)9 CLostinit Street HIL.U)ELPirLV. J^ ^PERTV Of ,RtC. MAR 1882 Division. ..t?rr::^* — Secti n .^is^V^ No, Plm/. c J/7/L(^'' ^ LECTURES TO YOUNG PEOPLE BY WILLIAM Bf SPRAGUE, D. D. PASTOR OF THE SECOND PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH IN ALBANY. INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS, BY SAMUEL MILLER, D. D. PROFESSOR IN THE THEOLOGICAL SEMIMARY AT PRINCETON. THIRD AMERICAN EDITION NEW YORK: D. APPLETON & CO., 200 BROADWAY. M DCCC XXW. Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1835, by D. APPLETON & CO. in the Clerk's office of the District Court of the United States, for the South- ern District of New York. WM- VAN NORDKN, PRINT. PREFACE. The plan of the following course of Lectures was suggested to the author, by his having often felt the need of a book to put into the hands of the young, which would yield them counsel and instruction adapted to every variety of circumstances. Such a book he has here attempted to supply; — a book designed to guard the moral principles and habits of youth, amidst the temptations of the world ; to im- press them with the infinite obligations and advan- tages of religion ; to conduct them through that most interesting period of anxious inquiry concerning their salvation ; to bring them to a cordial accept- ance of the gospel ofl^er ; to assist them in ascertain- ing their claims to the Christian character ; and to enable them to prosecute the various duties and con- flicts of the Christian life, in such a manner that they may finish their course with joy. Several of these Lectures were written during the author's connection with his late charge at West- Springfield, and the whole course was originally in- tended especially for the benefit of the youth of that IV PREFACE. congregation. Since his connection with his present charge, he has completed the course : and the seve- ral lectures embraced in it have been delivered in the hearing of the youth to whom he now ministers : and it is in compliance with a respectful and affec- tionate request from them, as well as in accordance with his original design, that the series is now given to the public. To the youth oi his former charge, whose friendly attentions he gratefully remembers, and in whose happiness he will ever cherish a lively interest, as well as to the youth of his present charge, whose many expressions of kindness he would gladly meet by his best efforts to do them good, these Lectures are now Affectionately inscribed. With every sentiment of regard. And with fervent prayers for their present and eternal well-being, By their obliged friend, W. B. SPRAGUE. FACE CONTENTS. y Introductory Address, by the Rev. Dr. Miller, . ix LECTURE I. IMPORTANCE OF THE PERIOD OF YOUTH. PROVERBS, IV. 10. Hear, O my son, and receive my sayings, . . 25 LECTURE II. DANGER OF EVIL COMPANY. I. CORINTHIANS, XV. 33. Evil communications corrupt good manners, . . 40 LE C T URE II I. DANGER OF EVIL INSTRUCTION. PROVERBS, XIX. 27. Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the words of knowledge, . . .61 LECTURE IV. DANGER OF A LIFE OF PLEASURE. ECCLESIASTES, XI. 9. Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth ; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth ; and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes : but know thou, that for all these things, God will bring thee into judgment, . . . .93 vi CONTENTS. LECTURE V. REGARD TO THE FAVOR OF THE WORLD CONTRASTED WITH A REGARD TO THE FAVOR OF GOD. I. THESSALONIANS, II. 4. Not as pleasing men, but God, .... 110 LECTURE VI. RELIGION AN ALL-PERVADING PRINCIPLE. MATTHEW, XIII. 9. But other fell into good ground, and brought forth fruit, 130 LECTURE VII. PERSUASIVE TO RELIGION. LUKE, XIV. 17. Come, for all things are now ready, .... 146 LECTURE VIII. EXCUSES FOR THE NEGLECT OF RELIGION. LUKE, XIV. 18. I pray thee, have me excused, 164 LECTURE IX. AWAKING TO RELIGION. ACTS, XVI. 30. What must I do to be saved ? 185 LECTURE X. EMBRACING RELIGION. ACTS, XVI. 31. Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, 203 CONTENTS. Vii LECTURE XI. EVIDENCE OF RELIGION. MATTHEW, VII. 21. Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven, 217 LECTURE XI L PROFESSION OF RELIGION. ISAIAH, XLIV. 6. One shall say, I am the Lord's ; and another shall call himself by the name of Jacob ; and another shall subscribe with his hand unto the Lord, and sur- name himself by the name of Israel, . . . 235 LECTURE XIII. DEFENCE AGAINST TEMPTATION. MATTHEW, XXVI. 41. Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation, . 252 LECTURE XIV. CHRISTIAN DECISION. DANIEL, III. 18. Be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship thy golden image which thou hast set up, 274 LECTURE XV. GROWTH IN GRACE. II. PETER, III. 18. Grow in grace, 287 viii CONTENTS. LECTURE XVI. DOING GOOD. GALATIANS, VI. 10. Let us do good unto all men, 316 LECTURE XVII. THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN'S COURSE. II. TIMOTHY, IV. 7. I have finished my course, 343 THEOLOGlO:^.L/r INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. The man who becomes, by any means, instrmnental in guiding a single youth to knowledge, virtue, piety, and true happiness, is a rich public benefactor : for the training of every such youth is a precious bless- ing conferred on his generation. But he who sends forth a good Book ; a book well adapted to serve as a guide to thousands beyond the reach of his per- sonal address ; and even to exert a benign influence on the temporal and eternal welfare of multitudes, in succession, long after he shall have ceased from his labors ; is a benefactor to mankind to an extent which no human arithmetic can calculate. Not only are his contemporaries rendered much his debtors ; but future generations also will have reason to rise up and call him blessed. It gave me, therefore, unfeigned pleasure to learn that the Reverend Author of the ensuing Volume had been warmly solicited by a number of his friends, and had finally consented, to publish from the press a series of Lectures which had been, with much ac- X INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. ceptance, addressed by him from the pulpit to the Youth of his pastoral charge. My long and intimate acquaintance with him, first as a beloved Pupil, and secondly as a highly esteemed Friend and Brother in the Gospel Ministry, convinced me that he was well qualified to execute the task which he was pre- vailed upon to undertake, with honor to himself, and with benefit to his readers. Of course, when requested to introduce the work to the public, by a preliminary address, I could have no other objection than that which arose from a persuasion that such an intro- duction was altogether unnecessary. It struck me, too, that when a third person, at any time, interposes between an Author and his reader, and claims an audience first, he ought to have something weighty to oflfer ; more weighty than I can hope to present in the pages assigned to this testimonial of respect and friendship. But whatever of reluctance may have arisen from these considerations, has been made to yield to the suggestion, that if the humblest indi- vidual should happen to be induced by this testimo- nial to procure and peruse the following Lectures, I shall be richly rewarded for the ofliering. He who feels admonished by advancing age, that his period of active labor cannot be continued much longer, ought to be " ready to every good work ;" and to be cautious of permitting false delicacy to deter hira from the smallest efi'ort to be useful. INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. XI Since the delivery of these Lectures, I have en- joyed the privilege of perusing a considerable portion of them in manuscript : and although it has not been in my power to extend this perusal to the whole work, yet I have examined so much of it as fully to confirm, and even to increase, all my previous ex- pectations in its favor. So far as my opportunity of examination has extended, it is rich and judicious in matter ; neat, perspicuous, and attractive in style ; and peculiarly adapted to engage and reward the attention of enlightened, reflecting, and literary youth. Indeed, if I were asked to point out a manual, better suited than any other within my knowledge, to be put into the hands of students in the higher literary institutions, I know not that it would be in my power to name one more likely to answer the purpose than this volume. It is no objection to such a publication as the pre- sent, that a number of excellent works on the same general subject, are already in possession of the re- ligious public ; and that several of recent appear- ance, and much value, are in very extensive and use- ful circulation. The truth is, works on practical religion, like works of devotion, provided they be well executed, can scarcely be too much multiplied. With respect to articles of secular trade, we know that an increase of demand must generally precede an increased supply. But this principle by no means XU INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. applies to moral and spiritual provision. Here, in- deed, the practical rule is rather the reverse. There is no natural demand in the human mind for religious instruction. The supply must precede and create the demand. We must abundantly replenish the market, — nay, we must run the risk, as has been re- marked, of " overstocking" it, if we would extend the taste for spiritual food. Besides, we know that personal and local considerations lead thousands, in every age, to patronize and read that which their own pastors or neighbors have published, when, perhaps, scarcely any thing else would bring them in contact with moral and religious works of the highest intrin- sic excellence. Surely, in these circumstances, he who adds a new and excellent manual to those alrea- dy in circulation, however numerous its predecessors, confers on the public a rich benefit. The formation of the youthful mind in knowledge, virtue, and religion, is, in all countries, of incalcula- ble moment ; but in THIS FAVORED COUNTRY, it is manifestly a matter of most peculiar interest. In many other communities, the form of the govern- ment furnishes a substitute fer popular purity. The strong and the prompt arm of power may be brought to bear continually, and may be applied with success to curb the excesses of unlawful indulgence, and to arrest the violence and the progress of crime. But the vital principle of our government is the intelli- INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. xiii gence and virtue of the people. Here public senti- ment is every thing ; and those whose character is now forming, are soon to govern that sentiment, and to hold in their hands the peace, the order, and the happiness of the community. Now the hope of maintaining order and happiness in any social body without Religion, is a chimera. It never was and never can be realized. It follows, of course, then, that the religious education of our Youth is, under God, our only hope. It ought to be the prime object of every lover of his country's welfare. The Patriot as well as the Christian ought to desire it, and pray for it without ceasing. Without it, the elective fran- chise, highly as we prize the privilege, will be a curse instead of a blessing. Without it, the liberty with which the great Governor of nations has been pleased to make us free, will only serve, in the end, to rivet upon us more ignoble and more wretched chains than any human despot ever forged. If I should see the formation of youthful character upon the principles of the gospel, becoming an object of earnest and general attention, I should consider it as an infinitely surer j^ledge of the stability of our na- tional privileges, and the continued progress of our national greatness, than all the human devices in the world could furnish ; than all the secular improve- ments, which seem to be the idol of so many millions of our population. Thinking men ought to know, XIV INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. that these mere secular improvements, though multi- plied and extended to any imaginable degree, can never make a people happy: — nay, that their exten- sion without a corresponding moral and religious improvement, will infallibly serve to render any population more active in corruption, more fruitful in crime, and more opulently and splendidly miser- able. There is, perhaps, no class of the community more negligent of the department of Religion, in conduct- ing the education of their youth, than the wealthy and the honorable. And to this fact we are, perhaps, to ascribe another, as melancholy as it is notorious ; namely, that the children of what are commonly called the higher classes so frequently fall victims to dissipation and vice. The truth is, there is no por- tion of our youth who so imperiously need the re- straining and purifying influence of Religion, in forming their character and habits, as the children of opulent and distinguished families. Why is it that they are so frequently profligate ; and so seldom either retain the wealth which has been bequeathed to them, or keep up the honors which their fathers acquired by knowledge, virtue, or public services t Obviously because they are commonly furnished with so many means of sensual gratification ; — are placed in circumstances adapted so strongly to flatter and inflate ; — and are surrounded with a thousand tempta- INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. XV tions, which are all so many bars to sobriety of mind. In short, feeling, at every step, as if they had something to sustain them besides their own exer- tions, and as if the advantages of birth and fortune would more than supply the place of personal accom- plishments, they too often fall into habits of gross self- indulgence, and soon forfeit all the advantages which they fondly imagined could never be lost. Forfeit them, did I say? — far worse than this ; — they con- vert them into means of the most humiliating cor- ruption and degradation; and thus often fall far lower than some of the most indigent and uneducated of their contemporaries. That this is the natural influence of wealth and station on the children of those who enjoy them, has been matter of universal experience : so that the instances of those who es- cape the baleful power of these circumstances, and in the midst of them attain a character elevated, dig- nified, and pure, are proverbially rare. Now, can any thing more conclusively prove, that the children of the wealthy and the honorable, stand in more ur- gent need of the influence of Religion than any other class of the young ; that there is the utmost danger of their being lost without it ; and that nothing can more powerfully tend to guard them against their peculiar temptations, to inspire them with true ele- vation of sentiment and aflfection, and to render every temporal advantage at once an ornament and a bless- XVI INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. ing? We often tell the poor, that vital religion (the only kind of religion that deserves the name) is the richest treasure which they can seek for them- selves and their children ; that it is adapted to alle- viate their sorrows, to sustain them under the heavi- est trials of life, to lift them at once to usefulness and enjoyment, and to lead their offspring to the truest and best elevation. But quite as strongly, nay, by arguments of peculiar urgency, may we re- commend this Treasure to the rich, not only as the best hope of their own souls, but also as the only adequate hope of their children ; as the best of all security that those whom they love as themselves shall not prove fugitives and vagabonds on the earth ; and convert all the advantages which they, with so much toil, have bequeathed to them, into mere incentives to crime and infamy. With peculiar earnestness would I apply this train of remark to such youth as are enjoying the advan- tages of a refined literary education ; and particu- larly to those young men who are ambitious of distinguishing themselves in the higher walks of literature and science. To such I would say — The object which you seek is noble, is worthy of your pursuit. But, like every thing else, if it be not sancti- fied, you v/ill have no ultimate reason to rejoice in it, even if attained. The Religion of Jesus Christ pro- perly understood, and cordially embraced, gives to INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. XVll learning its highest finish ; to genius its most exqui- site poAver ; to poetry its deepest feeling and tender- ness ; to eloquence its most resistless energy : to professional skill its most invaluable aids ; and to political wisdom its happiest insight, and preparation for blessing mankind. The groves of Academus will assuredly prove more verdant, more fragrant, and more fruitful, by having the " Tree of Life" planted and thriving in the midst of them. Nay, without the presence and power of the " Plant of Renown," their most luxuriant growth will be likely to be fol- lowed by morbid secretions, and pestilential influ- ences, fitted to countervail, and more than counter- vail, all their richest benefits. The beauties of Homer and Virgil, of Horace, Demosthenes, and Cicero, will be more exquisitely relished, as well as more profit- ably improved, by those who have previously imbibed the true spirit of the Bible, than by any others. We may even go further, and ask, — Can the refinements of classic literature, the ingenious dreams of Pagan mythology, and the recondite lore of mathematical and metaphysical science, fail of doing harm, if not consecrated by the faith and practice of true religion? Do not both Scripture and experience inform us that they are adapted to puflf up, and to corrupt, if not sanctified by an evangelical taste ? In a word, we may say of every part of education, — If it have not a decisively Christian character conferred upon 2* XVlll INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. it, — it may boast and illude, it may dazzle and inflate; but can never be expected to promote the real purity or happiness of its most diligent votaries. To every aspirant after literary wealth and fame, then, the caution of the inspired Apostle is most appropriate and important — "Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradi- tion of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ." There is another thought of deep interest which occurs in this connection. The highly favored, but most responsible population of this land, is now con- ducting an experiment of incalculable importance to ourselves and to mankind: — the experiment whe- ther men are capable of self-government ? In other words, whether they can live permanently and in peace under rulers of their own choice, and laws of their own formation ; or whether they are destined, until the Millenium shall open on our world, continu- ally to vibrate between anarchy and despotism; — between the manacles of privileged orders, and the exactions of an established Church — and the infuri- ated licentiousness of popular profligacy, which refuses to obey any law, either of God or man ? This experiment, as I said, is now going on ; and it will probably be decided by the men of the next generation ; by those whose principles and charac- ters are now forming. Of course, every youth who INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. XIX is decisively won to the side of Christian knowledge and practice, is so much gained to the cause of our national hopes. If, then, we wish to transmit all our privileges, civil and religious, unimpaired, to the latest posterity, let our young men be deeply imbued with the spirit of the Bible. — If we wish to avert from our country the curse of an ecclesiastical establish- ment, that bane of both church and state, let the Bible, and nothing but the Bible, be impressed upon the minds of our youth, as the only infallible RULE OF faith AND PRACTICE. Here, and here only, do we find those principles which are equally opposed to slavery and licentiousness, Every young man who has been trained in the spirit of the Bible, will be, as far as his influence goes, an impregnable barrier against every species of oppression, civil or religious; and equally against every species of disorder. Only let the great mass of our population for the next forty years, drink deep into the spirit of the Bible, and we may probably consider our stability and hap- piness as a nation finally secured. The peculiar character of the day in which we live presents a further incentive to the Young to seek after the best of all qualifications for being exten- sively useful. The lot of the present generation is cast in a period more strongly marked than any that ever preceded it, by a spirit of Christian benevolence and enterprise. The friends of God and man are XX INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. engaged more generally and zealously than ever before, in endeavoring to meliorate the intellectual and moral condition of mankind. That youth, then, who is not intelligently and decisively on the side of Christ, is not fit to take his part in the great move- ments which now distinguish, and in some measure pervade the civilized world. He will either be a drone or a cypher in his day ; or unite himself with that large mass who are the foes of all good, and who live for the miserable purpose of persuading men that their true glory will be promoted by tram- pling upon every divine institution, and dissolving every moral tie, however sacred. Can any youth of elevated sentiments be at a loss to decide which of these ranks he ought to join, and to the aid of which he ought to consecrate all the powers which God has given him? I need not add, that genuine piety is the best pledge of personal and professional success in life. The youth who consents to embark on the ocean of life, in any profession, without unfeigned piety, is infatuated. He proceeds without compass or chart. He is without any sure "anchor of the soul." He is absolutely destitute of any thing suited either to hold or to direct him securely on the troubled wates. On the other hand, all experience proves, that he who, in entering on his career, takes the Gospel of Christ as his guide in every pursuit, — derives from INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. XXI it his standard of morals, — appeals to it to learn his duty — to solve his doubts — to animate his hopes — and to form all his principles of action, — is in the fairest way to be happy in himself, beloved of all around him, prosperous in his affairs, and favored, in a word, with the best kind of success that true wisdom can desire or pray for here below. If man is to be prepared by education for the duties as well as the business of life, then surely that education which alone is likely to purify and quicken the con- science, to elevate the affections, to soften the heart, to inspire with practical wisdom, end to bind the individual by the ties of supreme love to God, and by those of enlightened and impartial benevolence to men, is adapted to promote, in the highest degree, personal and social happiness, in this life, as well as in that which is to come. In forming the religious character here recom- mended, it is of the utmost importance that the foun- dation be laid in clear views of divine truth. Doc- trinal knowledge is apt to be undervalued by private Christians, and especially by the young. They imagine, according to the popular prejudice, that if the heart be right, and the conduct correct, the doc- trines embraced are of small moment. This supposes that the heart of any one may be right, while his principles are essentially wrong ; or that his .prac- tice may be pure, while his religious opinions are XXU INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. radically erroneous. But nothing can be more con- trary both to Scripture and experience. The great Founder of our holy Religion declares that men are "sanctified by the truth." In fact, it is only so far as the truth is received, loved, and obeyed, that real religion has any place either in the heart or life. To suppose that any one can be sanctified, or in any respect benefited, by embracing error, is as repug- nant to reason as it is to the word of God. He who "has a hope in him," ought ever to be ready to "give a reason for it with meekness and fear;" and he will be ready to do so, if his hope be scriptural and intel- ligent. It is melancholy to think how frequently this matter is in a great measure disregarded by profess- ing Christians, otherwise well informed. Physicians, Lawyers, Merchants, and others, who confidently call themselves by the name of Christ, who have given many laborious days and nights to the acquirement of other kinds of knowledge, and who would be ashamed of being found ignorant of those branches of literature or science to which they profess to have attended, manifest no shame whatever in acknow- ledging themselves ignorant of the plainest subjects in Theology. It is not intended here either to assign the reasons, or to show the sin and folly of this deplorable fact ; but to remark that the foundation of this fact is commonly laid in youth. If the young, and even the thinking and serious portion of the INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. XXlll young, were as careful to store their minds with elementary principles, and with clear, discriminating views of revealed truth, as they are with the best and most accredited elements of other sciences, we should not find so many hoary-headed Christians unable to defend their own professed principles, and led astray by the artful votaries of error. That firm and accurate foundation of knowledge which is laid in youth, is most apt to remain unmoved, and to serve as a basis for the loftiest and most useful superstructure in after life. But, above all, let the Young see to it, that they content not themselves with a mere doctrinal, or speculative religion. Listen, beloved youth, to the Servant of God, when he faithfully tells you in the following pages, that your nature is in a state of moral ruin ; that you need pardoning mercy, and sanctifying grace ; that you must be " transformed by the renewing of your minds," or be forever shut out from the kingdom of God; and that that religion which will effectually serve you, either in life or death, must reign in the heart, and govern the con- duct. The principles and the practice to which he invites you, are not those of a sect or party, but those of the Bible ; and without some experimental acquaintance with which, no one is a Christian. And the more cordially and practically they are received, the more efficient will be their sustaining and sane- XXIV INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. tifying power, and the more benign the influence which they will difluse over your whole character and destiny. May the divine blessing rest on this and every other attempt to conduct our precious Youth to knowledge, piety, and salvation! v SAMUEL MILLER. LECTURE I. IMPORTANCE OF THE PERIOD OF YOUTH, PROVERBS, IV. 10. Hear, O my son, and receive my sayings. It can hardly have escaped the observation of any reader of the Bible, that a large part of the writings of Solomon, and especially of his proverbs, have a peculiar adaptation to the circumstances of the young. From this fact it is doubtless a legitimate inference, that he attached special importance to the period of youth ; and as he was unrivalled for practical wisdom, and wrote under the inspiration of God, we may fairly conclude that his opinion on this subject is correct. It is, moreover, an opinion which has been held by the wise and good of every age ; and it requires but a moment's reflection to perceive that it is built on a correct view of the prin- ciples of human nature, and of the connection be- tween man's character and destiny. Youth is a period of great importance. To illustrate this truth is the object of the present discourse. I. The importance of the period of youth is mani- 3 26 IMPORTANCE OF THE fest from the consideration that it is the commence- ment of a rational and immortal existence, the con- dition of which is, in some ijiiportant respects, con- cealed from us. Youth is the commencement of a rational exist- ence. There are orders of being below us, which we contemplate with various degrees of interest, according to their different properties. We look, for instance, with higher emotions upon the opera- tions of vegetable life in the flower unfolding its beauties, or the tree stretching forth its boughs towards heaven, than we do upon the clods of the valley. In the brute creation, we discover evidences of a still higher creating agency ; for they are en- dued with animal life and instinct, with a capacity for enjoyment and suffering. But man, though only next above the brutes in the scale of being, leaves them, in respect to his capacities, at an immense distance. Superadded to his animal nature, is the gift of reason ; a principle which is capable of an indefinite expansion ; by which, standing on this earth, he can measure the heavens, and explore the distant parts of creation. Moreover, he has not only an intellectual, but a moral nature ; he has a con- science, which recognises God as a moral Governor, and his law as the rule of duty ; and which more than intimates the fact of an approaching retribution. He is susceptible of enjoyment and suffering, not merely as an animal, but as an intellectual and moral being; audit is in these higher departments of his nature, that he is capable of enjoying the bliss of a seraph, or of being tortured with the agony of a fiend. However lightly man may think of himself as a PERIOD OF YOUTH. 27 creature of God, or however he may abuse his own powers, he is gifted in a manner which evidently points to some mighty result. But it were a supposable case, that man might be endowed with the very powers which he now has, and yet, by an annihilating act of the Being who created him, his existence might, at some future period, be blotted out ; and in this case, even the mighty capacities of the soul would, in a great measure, lose their importance. But man is not only gifted with reason, but is destined to immortality. Time was, when he had no existence ; but in all future time, he will be a living, intelligent, active being. When the foundations of the earth were laid, and the heavens spread out as a curtain, he did not exist to witness that exhibition of Almighty power ; but when the heavens shall be rolled together as a scroll, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, he will exist, not only as a spectator, but a sharer in those amazing scenes. And farther and still farther onward in the progress of ages, even to an intermin- able duration, his existence will be protracted : it is not at his option whether it shall be continued or not; for immortality is entailed upon him ; and though by his conduct he may affect the condition of his being, he can never accomplish the extinction of it. But though it is certain that man is destined to an endless existence, there is much in respect to the character of it, which, at its commencement, cannot he known, except by the Creator. This is true even in respect to the present life. No one can predict with certainty what his condition will be, even during the brief period of his sojourning here: 28 IMPORTANCE OF THE whether he is to be signally blessed by the smiles of Heaven, or to be unusually buffeted by the storms of adversity, is a problem which no present circum- stances can enable him to solve. And so in regard to di future existence — we cannot decide in respect to any one, at his entrance into life, whether he is hereafter to be an heir of glory or an heir of woe ; — a companion of fiends or a companion of angels. Such is the mutability of the world, the treachery of the heart, the sovereignty of God, that the condition of our being, both in the present and future life, must be, in a great measure, concealed from us, till we learn it by actual experience. Collect now the several circumstances which have been mentioned under this article, and tell me whether they do not invest the morning of human life with peculiar interest. It is the period in which a rational soul commences a career as unlimited as the existence of Jehovah, and attended by joy or woe which imagination in its boldest flights never conceived. Vit And over the whole path of the soul's existence, there hangs, at present, a fearful uncer- tainty : no one can say, in what manner these unfold- ing faculties are hereafter to be employed ; whether in serving God or in opposing him, whether in bringing upon the soul a perpetual shower of blessings, or an everlasting torrent of wratliv/ Is that an interesting moment, when the inexperienced ad- venturer steps from the shores of his native country, and trusts himself to the mighty deep, to be borne to some far distant region ? How much more interest- ing the period, in which an immortal soul commences the voyage of life, not knowing hoM^ much he may PERIOD OF YOUTH. 29 be tempest-tossed during his passage, or whether he may not even be wrecked on the dark coast of eter- nity! If, in the former case, the eyes of anxious friends follow the mariner as he goes off into the deep, is it not reasonable to suppose, in the latter, that the watchful regards of angels are attracted by the condition of a young immortal, whose character is yet to be formed, and whose destiny is yet to be revealed ? >(, II. The importance of the period of youth is far- ther evident from the consideration, that probably, in most cases, it gives a complexion to the whole future existence. Every moral action, no doubt^ exerts an influence on the prevailing disposition of the person by whom it is performed ; and if we could subject the character of an individual, at any given period, to a rigid analysis, we should find that it was precisely that which might be expected from the combined influence of all his previous moral actions. There are instances in which a single action — and that in itself apparently an unimportant one — has manifestly decided the character and destiny for life. One wrong decision has not unfrequently been the means of clothing the prospects of an individual with gloom and disgrace ; while one good purpose, one victory gained over temptation, has often proved the seed which has yielded a rich harvest of reputation and virtue. But if the influence of a single action, whether good or bad, has often such a decisive and visible bearing upon future character, what shall be said of the combined influence of all the actions which an 3* 30 IMPORTANCE OF THE individual performs, during a considerable period of life, and especially in the season of youth ? It is at this period that the habits of thought, and feeling, and action, are formed ; that the inclinations usually become fixed ; and the whole character assumes a definite complexion. It would seem probable, there- fore, antecedently to experience, that, in general, the first impulse given to the mind and heart would be the decisive one. But what reason teaches, experience abundantly confirms. If we look abroad into the world, some indeed we shall find who have disappointed the hopes which they early awakened in respect to useful- ness and piety ; and others, whose early life was a scene of profligacy, who have been afterwards plucked as brands from the burning ; but in the great major- ity of instances, it will appear that the direction w^hich the character received in youth, is retained in every succeeding period of life. In far the greater number of cases in which you see old age cheered by the hopes and comforts of religion, you will find that the foundation of this tranquillity was laid in the morning of life ; and on the other hand, where you see ho iry-headed vice shuddering in despair on the boarders of eternity, it will usually be safe to conclude that the agony which you witness is to be referred especially to the early neglect of religion. Hitherto I have spoken only of the influence which the period of youth exerts upon the subse- quent periods of the present life : but its influence is equally decisive upon ovr whole future existence. In many cases, indeed, the season of youth consti- tutes the whole period of life, and, of course, the P E R I O D O F Y O U T H . 31 whole period of probation: in all such instances, none can doubt that it must be decisive of the soul's everlasting destiny. Nor is the case materially dif- ferent, where life is continu ;d even to old age ; for if our condition in a future world depends upon our character at death, and if our character in the later periods of the present life usually takes its com- plexion from the period of youth, then it follows that the influence of this period reaches onward to eter- nity ; — that it is emphatically the seed-time for eternal life or eternal death. III. Another consideration which still farther il- lustrates the importance of the period of youth is, that it furnishes peculiar advantages for rendering the whole future existence happy ; or for hecoming practically religious. There is a general susceptibility of character at- tending this period, which is favorable to the culti- vation of religion. I mean not to imply that the human heart is not originally the seat of corrupt inclinations ; for that were to call in question, not only the decision of the oracles of God, but the re- sults of every day's experience. But this melan- choly truth notwithstanding, it admits of no question that there is something in the very state of the soul during the period of youth, which may be said, in a comparative sense, to favor the work of its own sanctification. The understanding, not having been brought under the dominion of prejudice, is open to the reception of truth. The conscience, not having had its dictates frequently opposed and trifled with, is ready faithfully to discharge its ofTice. The vari- 32 IMPORTANCE OF THE ous affections of the heart are easily excited ; and more easily than at any subsequent period, may re- ceive a right direction. Who will not say that there is in all this a most desirable preparation for be- coming truly religious ; especially when the state of the soul to which I have here referred, is contrasted with that almost invincible prejudice, that deep moral insensibility, which often results from long continued familiarity with the world. Another advantage for embracing religion con- nected with this period, is, that it is a season of com- parative leisure. True it is indeed that the want of time can never be reasonably urged by any human being, whatever may be his age or condition, as an apology for the neglect of religion ; but there is no period in respect to which it has so little even of the semblance of reason, as that of youth. Then the cares of the world which cluster upon manhood, are comparatively unknown. The more active scenes of life — the strife of business, the din of worldly en- terprise, are seen and heard only at a distance. Not as in subsequent life, is there a family to be provided for, and a thousand domestic cares pressing upon the heart, and putting in requisition the hands. There is much leisure for serious reading ; especially for reading the volume of inspired truth, which is given to be a light to our feet, and a lamp to our paths. There is much leisure for serious reflection, and self-examination ; for applying the truths of God's word to the regulation of the heart and life. There is much leisure for private communion with God ; for Christian intercourse ; for attendance on the various means of religion ; in short, for every PERIOD OF YOUTH. 33 thing which may be instrumental either of the reno- vation of the soul, or of its growth in grace. The season of youth, however it may be employed, is emphatically the leisure season of life ; and he who does not find time to become religious then, has no reason to expect that he shall ever find it afterwards. It is another favorable circumstance in respect to the period of which I am speaking, that the efforts which are then made towards a life of religion, meet a peculiarly ready and cordial co-operation from Christian friends. When the Christian looks upon the veteran in sin, who has reached an old age of carelessness, though his eye may affect his heart, as he reflects upon his character and his doom, yet the hopelessness of the case seems to damp resolu- tion, and discourage effort ; and even when he dis- covers in him some relentings in view of the past, or some anxiety in respect to the future, it is difficult for him to regard even these as symptoms of thorough reformation. But in regard to the young it is far otherwise. So much is there in their circumstances to favor religious impressions, that Christians are pe- culiarly encouraged to be faithful towards them. This is true especially of pious parents. They look upon their children, in the morning of life, with a mixture of concern and hope ; and they are prompted not only by Christian feeling, but by parental affec- tion, to do every thing in their power to secure their salvation. Hence they often warn them of the dan- ger of a life of sin, and urge them to enter immedi- ately on a life of religion. Hence, every indication of serious feeling on the part of their children is re- garded by them as a signal to double their diligence, 34 IMPORTANCE OF THE in pressing upon them their obligations, and in en- deavoring to bring them to repentance. Hence too, they make them the objects of daily prayer, and not only bring them around the domestic altar, but earnestly intercede for them in the closet. Nor are these efforts for the young confined to parents ; but Christians in general feel themselves especially called upon to labor and strive for their salvation ; and whenever they show any symptoms of anxiety, there are many around them who stand ready to second every effort they make to escape from the wrath to come. And is it not a privilege, my young friends, thus to be wrestled for by Christian parents ; — thus to be borne on the hearts of God's people ; — thus to be counselled, and exhorted, and aided by those who are walking in the path to heaven ? Let repentance be delayed to old age, if indeed old age should ever arrive — and where then will be the pious mother to embalm her supplications with her tears ; or where will be the companion in years to encour- age and accompany you in the rugged path of self- denial ; or where will the Christians be found, who will have hope enough in respect to you to come, while your last sands are running, and plead you with the earnestness which they now manifest, to prepare for heaven ? As the last and perhaps the most important ad- vantage for becoming religious, which belongs to the season of youth, I would say that the Spirit of God then, more frequently than at any other period, exerts his gracious influences. These influences he does indeed exert at every period ; and sometimes even when the heart has become incrusted with the mil- PERIOD OF YOUTH. 35 dew of spiritual death : but experience proves that the young are far more likely to be the subjects of them than persons at a more advanced period of life. To them he speaks most frequently through the dis- pensations of Providence, the preaching of the word, the operations of conscience, and even the vanities of the world, and charges them to make religion the ob- ject of their immediate and supreme regard. And I may appeal to the fact that his efficacious influences actually are exerted during this period far more fre- quently than in any subsequent one ; that much the larger part of all who, embrace religion, do it in the morning of life. Let revivals of religion be brought to testify on this subject ; and if I mistake not, you will find that, while a multitude of youth, during these scenes of divine mercy, are seen pressing into the kingdom, there are comparatively iew who have reached the period of middle life, and only here and there an individual from the ranks of old age. What does this fact prove, my young friends, other than that the Holy Spirit is peculiarly ready to exert his influences in bringing you to repentance ? IV. My last general remark illustrative of the im- portance of the period of youth is, that it is fraught with peculiar dangers. In illustrating this article, I shall take for granted the fact that man is naturally inclined to evil; — a fact which, you will readily perceive, must invest with much additional importance the several sources of danger to which I shall refer. There is danger resulting from that very suscepti- bility of character, which has already been mentioned 36 IMPORTANCE OF THE as favorable to early piety. For if tho mind is then peculiarly susceptible of truth, it is also proportion- ably susceptible of error. If the conscience possesses all its native sensibility, opposition to its dictates must exert a peculiarly hardening influence. If the feelings may be excited, with comparative ease, in favor of religion, they may even more readily be en- listed against it. And hence the melancholy fact is, that in a multitude of instances, the understanding, the conscience, the affections — the whole man, has become enslaved to a life of sin, at the very period when he was most susceptible of the influences of piety. Ji Let no young person then repose in the con- viction that his mountain stands strong, and that he is in no danger of becoming a hardened transgressor, merely because he is occasionally roused, or melted, or agitated, under the exhibition of divine truth : let him take heed lest the enemy come, and avail him- self of that very susceptibility, and bind him hand and foot with the cords of depravity and error, and consign him over to a most fearful destruction, "-v Moreover, youth is a season of inexperience ; and this constitutes another source of danger. Every one knows that our most valuable knowledge is de- rived from experience ; that it is far more accurate, more deep, more practical than any other. But of this the young, from the nature of the case, cannot, in a great degree, avail themselves ; as it is the ex- clusive prerogative of riper years. They have had but little experience of their own hearts ; but little opportunity of tracing out the sources of human con- duct, of becoming acquainted with the evil principles which lurk within them — the treachery, perverse- PERIODOFYOUTH. 37 ness, rebellion, which constitute the elements of man's depraved nature. They have had but limited experience of the world, and are very inadequate judges of its true character. They have ordinarily seen only its bright side ; have not often been pierced by its ingratitude, or betrayed by its faithlessness, or stung by its neglect. Of its temptations, too, of the stratagems of the wicked, of the serpentine influence of worldly pleasures, they know comparatively little. How manifestly does this want of experience give the world which they are entering a powerful ad- vantage over them. With but a slight knowledge of themselves, they are liable to misjudge in respect to the circumstances in which they shall be safe, and to put character and happiness in jeopardy, from a wrong estimate of their strength to resist temptation. With but a slight knowledge of the world, they are in danger of trusting it where it intends to betray ; and of being carried headlong by its influence into the vortex of pleasure and vice, while yet they have scarcely suspected that they were beyond the limits of virtue and safety. Many a youth has gone into the haunts of sin, and finally into the world of wo, because, at the commencement of his course, he did not suspect the danger. Again : the world has its thousand snares ; and here is another source of danger to the young. There are scenes of pleasure which are misnamed innocent; which, while they avoid the grossness of dissipation, wear a bright and fascinating aspect to the young, and strongly tempt them to the neglect of religion. There are scenes of profane and intemperate riot, which, though enough to sicken the heart of piety, 3S IMPORTANCE OF THE hold out a powerful temptation to many who have given a few of their first years to what is called in- nocent pleasure. There is the stage, with all its splendid apparatus for destroying immortal souls. The most burning strains of eloquence, and the most melting strains of music ; the exquisite efforts of the pencil and of the chisel, are all prostituted to make an appeal to the youthful heart in favor of irreligion and licentiousness. There are evil books, written with a pen dipped in the poison of asps, for the very purpose of carrying to the youthful breast the ele- ments of pollution and death. There are evil men, yes, and evil women too, who go about preaching the doctrine that religion is a dream, and death an eternal sleep ; who encircle the unwary youth, in his down-sitting and his up-rising, with the snares of death ; and who are prepared to celebrate the wreck of his principles and of his hopes with a shout of fiendlike exultation. In these circumstances, who will not say that the most appalling dangers hang around his path ? And now, in view of all that has been said, is it not manifest that youth is a period of great import- ance ? I ask you, my young friends, whether, as the commencement of a rational and immortal existence, and as the period which is probably to give a com- plexion to that existence, it is not too important to be devoted to any other purposes than those for which it was designed ? Is it not too important to be wasted in careless levity, in vain amusement, in any of the unfruitful works of darkness 1 Are not its advant- ages for becoming religious too important to be PERIODOFYOUTH. 39 neglected; its dangers too serious to be regarded with unconcern? This critical and deeply interest- ing season will soon have passed away, and the pe- riod of manhood will succeed. The period of man- hood, did I say ? Ah, it may be the period of retri- bution ; that in which the soul shall be mingling in the hosannas of the redeemed, or the wailing of the lost. But wherever, or in whatever circumstances, future years may find you, rely on it, the period of youth will have contributed much to make you what you will then be, both in respect to your character and condition. Regard each moment, then, as a price put into your hands to gain wisdom ; and remember that now, now, emphatically in respect to you, is the accepted time ; now is the day of salvation, LECTURE II. DANGER OF EVIL COMPANY I. CORINTHIANS, XV. 33. Evil communications corrupt good manners. Nothing is so valuable to man as his character. This is proverbial even in regard to the present life. Strip him of every thing else, and leave him with a good conscience, and what will probably attend it, a fair reputation, and all that you do will be compara- tively harmless. You may have wounded his sensi- bility, or overcome his resolution, or clouded his worldly prospects; but he has that which, in the end, will be likely to place him above the power of malice. His character is a broad shield, which the arrows of adversity, and even the sting of detraction, can never effectually penetrate. Be his circumstances what they may, the fact that he has a good conscience and a good character, may justly render him contented and fearless. But if the character which is formed here, be im- portant in its relation to our present existence, it is infinitely more so, as it stands connected with eternity. This life is the only period of our probation. It is a school in which we are training for an immortal ex- istence. Every moral action of our lives will exert DANGER OF EVIL COMPANY. 41 an influence upon us either in heaven or hell ; and the sum of these actions will decide the complexion of our characters, and, of course, our eternal destiny. If these remarks be just, then it clearly follows that there is no part of our conduct which ought to be considered unimportant. The least departure from du!y, the least violation of conscience, may be a seed which will produce a harvest of everlasting woe. It may be the germ of a sinful habit. It may be the first of a progressive series of wicked actions which will extend through eternity. It may prove the outer door to the temple of vice ; and he who enters it, may reasonably expect to be led on, till he has explored all its scenes of pollution and darkness, and till he finally sacrifices his immortal soul on the altar of confirmed profligacy. Perhaps there is no influence so uniform and so powerful in the formation of character, as that of example. This results from the fact that we are creatures of imitation : there is a principle in our nature which leads us instinctively, and from our earliest childhood, to copy the manners of those with whom we associate. This, to a great extent, is invo- luntary ; inasmuch that persons have often uncon- sciously contracted peculiarities of character, which, when they were reminded of them, they could in- stantly trace to the example of some friend. I do not here inquire whether we are more likely, from our constitution, to imitate good or bad examples ; but only speak of the general influence of example, of whatever kind, founded on the fact that we are naturally imitative beings. The considerations at which I have now just 4* 42 DANGEROF hinted, viz., that with the characters which we form here, must be connected not only our present but eternal condition, and that there is no influence more powerful in forming these characters than that of example; — these considerations, I think, must pre- pare you suitably to estimate the subject to which I am about to call your attention; — I mean the DANGER OF EVIL COMPANY. I wish Cach OUC of yOU to hear for himself; and to let conscience make a faithful and honest application ; and it is my earnest prayer to God, and I doubt not that it is the prayer of your parents who are here among you, that you may so listen, and so apply, that this discourse shall prove the means of making you better and happier through eternity. That evil company has a corrupting and dangerous effect, is a fact so well understood, and so universally acknowledged, that it would be quite superfluous to enter into any direct proof of it. The wisest man in the world has long ago said that " a companion of fools shall be destroyed ;" and who has not seen the assertion verified in instances almost innumerable ? It will be more to our purpose, therefore, to show you the process by which evil example operates ; or to notice the different principles which it brings into action, in corrupting the morals, degrading the cha- racter, and ruining the soul. I. The danger of associating with wicked com- panions commences in the fact that it renders vice familiar. I know it has been fashionable to say, in the lan- guage of a distinguished poet, that EVILCOMPANY, 43 " Vice is a monster of so frightful mein, Tiiat to be hated needs but to be seen ;" and on this principle some have gone so far as to justify the most profane and licentious exhibitions of the stage ; and have gravely contended that those splendid scenes of impiety, decked out with all that is most attractive and provoking to the sensual appetites, are fitted indirectly to nourish good affec- tions, and lead to a virtuous life. The fundamental error of this kind of philosophy is that it overlooks the melancholy fact that man is a being of depraved inclinations ; and the moment you bring him in con- tact with vice, you place by his side a companion to whom his arms and his heart involuntarily fiy open. However you will account for the fact, all experience proves that there is a tendency in human nature to go astray ; and that while nothing more than the absence of restraint is necessary to the formation of evil habits, a habit of virtue and piety is always the result of fixed resolution and severe effort. If then the state of the heart naturally be such as to render it most sensible to the solicitations of vice, you will easily perceive how this consideration operates to invest all needless intercourse with evil company with great danger. You may apply fire to materials which are exposed to the frost and damps of winter, and you will find it difficult to produce a flame ; but if you bring it in contact with some highly inflam- mable substance, you will see a blaze, or hear an explosion, in an instant. In like manner, if all our inclinations were originally on the side of virtue, the danger from being familiar with vice might be comparatively small ; but the case becomes greatly 44 DANGEROF changed, when it is recollected that we have within us evil propensities, which are ready to kindle as soon as the torch of temptation is applied to them. I am aware that the circumstances of our present condition sometimes necessarily lead us to witness scenes of wickedness ; but this so far as it is unavoid- able is to be considered as constituting part of our trial, and as making a loud demand for our vigilant activity and resistance. But in a large part of the instances in which young persons are the witnesses of vice, it is not because Providence places them in the way of it in the course of their duty, but because they are prompted by inclination. Now let me say that those of you who have yielded so far to curi- osity, or any other principle, as to place yourselves deliberately and unnecessarily in the way of vice — I care not what kind it is — have unconciously entered into a league with it. The fatal poison is already in your hand, and unless you cast it from you without delay, in all probability you are ruined. II. It is the tendency of mixing with bad associ- ates, to benumb and finally destroy the moral sense. By the moral sense, you will understand me to mean that faculty or principle of action, partly of an intellectual and partly of a moral character, by which we discern the difference between right and wrong, and approve the one and condemn the other. In some, I suppose, this faculty is originally more active and delicate than in others ; but in all, it is an essen- tial part of the human constitution, and is indispensa- ble to moral agency. It is easy to see that in the formation of character, much will depend on culti- EVILCOMPANY. 45 vating or neglecting to cultivate it ; and of course, whatever contributes to render our moral perception less accurate, or our moral sensibility les3 keen, must proportionably put in jeopardy our virtue. Now let me ask Avhether the voice of universal experience does not decide that mingling in evil company, and witnessing evil examples, has this unhappy tendency? Have not even persons of an established principle of piety, who have been called, in the course of provi- dence, to mingle in scenes of wickedness, found it exceedingly difficult to maintain that high and awful sense of the evil of sin, which they wished to culti- vate ; and have they not been obliged to fortify them- selves against this deadening influence, by a double degree of watchfulness and prayer? But perhaps there are some before me who can bear testimony on this subject from experience. Can you not re- member the time when some particular vice, say that of profane swearing, or gaming, or drunkenness, ex- cited in you emotions of disgust and even horror ; — when you could hardly look upon its miserable victim without an aching heart? But it may be that you have since frequently been in vicious com- pany ; and the sounds of blasphemy, and the riot ^' and loathsomeness of intemperance, have become familiar to you; and has not this familiarity rendered you insensible, in a great de. ree, to the odiousness of these vices ? Nay, are there not some among you who can now commit, without much remorse, sins, the very thought of which would once have made you tremble ? Look back, O young man, and see how far you have already fallen towards the gulf of profligacy and ruin ; and then, in the light of your 46 DANGEROF past experience, and over the ruins of a good con- science, look forward and prophecy concerning your future doom ! The extinction of the moral sense is usually very gradual, and the progress of its decline is often marked, with great accuracy, by the conduct. Every one knows that conscience is originally one of the most active and powerful of all the inhabitants of the human breast ; and that she will never yield up her authority till she has sustained a severe struggle. There is nothing, perhaps, in which this conflict is more clearly marked, than in the progress of a young man, who has had a pious education, towards a habit of profaneness. Though he has been accus- tomed occasionally to hear the language of cursing from others, the impressions of his childhood are too strong, to allow him immediately to copy it. At length, in an evil hour, he summons resolution enough to make the awful experiment of uttering an oath ; but his faltering tongue and blushing cheek proclaim, that there is a commotion and a remon- strance within. Conscience rouses up all her ener- gies, and thunders out a rebuke, which almost puts him into the attitude of consternation. Perhaps his early resolutions to reverence the name and authority of God, come thronging upon his remembrance; — or perhaps the instructions of other days, enforced by parental affecton, rise up before him; — or it may be, that the image of a departed parent, who had trained him up in the way that he should go, haunts his busy and agitated mind, and reproaches him with filial ingratitude. He resolves that the dreadful privilege of taking the name of God in vain, has EVILCOMPANY. 47 been purchased at too great expense ; and that he will not venture to repeat an experiment that has been so fruitful in remorse and agony. But pre- sently he is heard to drop another oath, and another; and in each successive instance, the conflict with conscience becomes less severe, till, at length, this faithful reprover is silenced, and he blasphemes his Maker's name without remorse, and almost without his own observation. When I see an ingenuous youth taking the first steps in this path of death, — when I see his countenance change, and hear his voice falter, and the embarrassment and awkward- ness of his manner tell me that conscience is uttering her remonstrances at the very moment when the language of profaneness is upon his lips, — I say to myself, ' Poor young man, little do you know what disgrace and wretchedness you are treasuring up for yourself!' I regard him as having set his face like a flint towards perdition ; and I read on his charac- ter, in dark and ominous letters, " The glory is de- parted!'^ It is important here to be observed, that the effect of any particular vice in destroying the moral sense, is universal; that is, by being familiar with any one sin, the mind gradually contracts a degree of insensi- bility to all others. For instance, if you indulge in profaneness, — the sin of licentiousness, or drunken- ness, as an offence against Cod, will not appear to you in its native odiousness ; for this plain reason, that, by indulging in sin of any kind, you lose your regard for God's authority. There is also such an intimate connection between different vices, that it is exceedingly difficult to be devoted to one, without 48 DANGEROF being, in a greater or less degree, the slave of more. Remember, therefore, that, in frequenting the com- pany of the vicious, you expose yourselves not only to the particular vices which you may happen to witness in them, but to any others to which subse- quent temptations may invite you ; because, when you have once cast off the fear of God, your heart will be open to every bad impression, and will be a soil in which every kind of sin will flourish luxuri- antly. III. It is another effect of associating with evil company, that it checks the operation of the princi- ple of shame, or renders one regardless of the opin- ion of the world. This too is part of our original constitution ; and is so essential and active a princi- ple, that the absence of it is always taken as a deci- sive indication of confirmed profligacy ; insomuch that there is hardly a more striking epitome of a thoroughly depraved character, than that he is with- out shame. Though some higher principle than a regard to the opinion of the world is necessary to constitute an action good in the sight of God, or to be the foundation of a religious life ; and though this principle, like every other, is liable to abuse, and needs to be properly restrained and regulated ; still, no doubt it was intended by Providence to impose a check upon our vicious inclinations ; and so essential is its operation to the welfare, and, I may say, the exist- ence of society, that if all those evil propensities which are now kept in check by a regard to the opinion of the world, were allowed to operate freely, it is probable that all the opposition which human EVILCOMPANY. 49 laws could make to the vices of men, would be no more than the weakest mound of earth set to defy the angry torrent, as it comes rushing from the mountains. If, then, this principle be so important to the preservation of virtue in the community, and, of course, to the virtue of each individual, surely any thing which has a tendency to extinguish it is greatly to be deprecated ; and that this is the direct tendency of evil company, must be obvious to every one. Here again, I appeal directly to the con- sciences of those, if there be any such before me, whose experience renders them the most competent judges. When you first associated with those who took the name of God in vain, would not the thought oiyour ever being heard to utter the same language have crimsoned your cheek with shame ? But after a while, did not this peculiar sensibility to the opin- ion of the world so far wear off, that when none but your sinful companions were present, you ven- tured a profane expression ; and even after you could swear fearlessly in their presence, was it not a con- siderable time before you could feel willing to hazard an oath in the hearing of your serious friends? And when, after taking the name of God in vain, you have sometimes turned your face, and been un- expectedly met by the reproving countenance of some pious friend, have you not been awed into con- fusion by the majesty of virtue ; and felt that you have done an act which, in the estimation of that good man, would cover you with disgrace ? But you may, for ought I know, have long since bid adieu to all such scruples ; and you may be con- gratulating yourselves upon the victory you have 50 DANGEROF gained over a prejudice of education ; and you may- have become so shockingly familiar with the dialect o'hell, that even the presence of the virtuous and good cannot restrain you from it: for all this may be calculated upon as a legitimate consequence of being often found in the way of sinners. Just so it is with the sin of intemperance. Probably the greatest drunkard in the community can remember the time when he would have shuddered at the thought of thus foolishly sacrificing his reputation ; and perhaps there was hardly ever an instance in which a man yielded to this kind of temptation for the first time, that he was not thoroughly ashamed of it, and would turn his face from you when you met him in the street, lest your countenance should re- veal to him your pity or contempt. But by fre- quently resorting to the company of drunkards, and by repeating a few times the brutish experiment, the flush of shame faded from his cheek, and made way for a still deeper hue of crimson, which proclaims that he is a shameless sot. And so it is with respect to every other bad habit. By frequenting the society of the vicious, a person soon comes practically to re- gard them as the most important part of the world ; and consequently, his regard for the opinion of the good, and his fear of losing it, are gradually dimin- ished and destroyed. IV. Another sentiment which is brought into ope- ration in aid of a vicious habit, by associating with wicked companions, is the dread of being" singular. There is nothing that goes to the heart of a young man like "the world's dread laugh;" or the idea of EVILCOMPANY. 51 standing alone ; or of being charged with supersti- tious scruples of conscience ; and this is a principle of which the abettors of vice are always sure to avail themselves, in regard to those who are inexperienced. When a young man, whose mind has been stored with good sentiments through the influence of educa- tion, falls into their company, it is wonderful to ob serve how their invention is quickened for devising means for his destruction. They take care not to display to him all the mysteries of iniquity at once, lest it should produce a shock which should drive him from their society. At first, perhaps, he disco- vers in them nothing more than an excessive cheer- fulness ; and so far, he thinks they may be imitated without much danger. But it is not long before he must take another step ; and if he hesitates and falters now, he sees on one side, a reproachful frown, and on the other, a contemptuous smile ; one, perhaps, charges him with unmanly superstition, and another with the want of independence ; or it may be, the whole fraternity of them set up one general shout of ridicule. At such a moment, I look upon a young man as suspended between life and death ; and as the experiment which is now going forward may result, I expect his eternal destiny will be decided. If I could look into his heart at this awful crisis, I should expect to find it in a state of fearful agitation : and if the power of reflection had not deserted him, to find him proposing to himself some such questions as these : — *' What step is this which 1 am now tempted to take ? Whither will it conduct me ? May it not ruin my character, and ruin my soul ? What mean these counsels and warnings of my early 52 DANGEROF youth, that now come knocking at the door of my heart ? If I yield, will not the hearts of my pious friends bleed with tenfold deeper sorrow than if I were to die ; — nay, will it not almost send a pang of agony down into the graves of my departed parents, who dedicated me to God, and with their dying breath charged me to beware of a life of sin ? But how can I sustain the anguish of being singular ? How can I bear to be thought mean and spiritless ; to hear these shouts of ridicule, and witness these expressions of contempt? No, I will not submit to this intolerable burden ; I will rush headlong into the haunts of sin, and endeavor to stifle conscience and drown reflection. Cease, then, to trouble me, ye recollections of my early days. Ye pious friends, who have followed me all my life with afl'ectionate wishes and good offices, I can heed you no longer ; I will sooner pierce all your hearts with anguish, than to stand alone and try to stem this torrent of ridicule. And you too, departed parents, even if I knew I should disturb the repose of your graves, and plant a thorn in that pillow which sustains your head in yonder lonely mansion, — I could not bear to be singular. Leave me, therefore, friends ; leave me, conscience ; leave me, every tender and endear- ing recollection ; leave me too, ye gloomy forebod- ings of future misery ; and let me sacrifice myself as quickly as I can ! I can hazard any thing else, even the eternal burnings of hell ; but I cannot, I will not, hazard the odium of being singular !" I do believe, my hearers, that many a young man, who now sits in the seat of the scofl!er, if he would honestly tell you his whole experience, would be obliged to relate EVILCOMPANY. £3 the story of some such conflict as this which I have here supposed ; and it may be that there are young persons before me, who can recollect something like it in their own experience. But if I knew there were such a case, I should hardly think it premature to call upon you to begin even now to mourn for the death of an immortal soul. V. I shall close the illustration of this subject with one more remark ; and that is, that it is the tendency of evil company to separate a person from the means of grace. What though he may live in the midst of Christian privileges, and almost at the very threshold of the sanctuary; — will he, think you, enter those hallowed courts, where every thing betokens reverence and purity, when his heart loathes the service of his Maker? Will he deliberately place himself in the way of reproof for those very vices to which he has deliberately resolved to yield ? Or will he be likelv to read the word of God, when he meets his own sentence of condemnation on every page? I do not say indeed that the whole extent of this evil will or- dinarily be realized in the early stages of vice ; on the contrary, I well know that its progress, for the most part, is gradual: but I do say — and I appeal to the heart of every profligate for the truth of it that the tendency of vicious company is, finally, to form a complete separation from all the means of religion. If he be entirely devoted to the service of sin, it were an absurdity to suppose that he should have either time or relish for the service of God : and even if he attend upon it with external formality 5+ 54 DANGEROF for a while, it will soon become too irksome to be continued. And when the means of grace are once abandoned, I know not where we are to look for a more decisive symptom of a hard heart and a repro- bate mind. We must not indeed venture to limit the power of the Most High ; but if there ever be a case which, upon all the principles of human probability, we may pronounce hopeless, and in which our most awful apprehensions may reasonably cluster around the destiny of a fallen mortal, surely it is the case of him who has voluntarily cut himself off from the means of salvation. On a review of this subject, 1. We may see how insidious is vice. From small and almost imperceptible beginnings, it gradu- ally makes its way, till it reduces the whole man to its dominion, and brings into captivity every affec- tion and faculty of the soul. It first throws out the bait of pleasure, and flatters its victim on to forbid- den ground ; then it makes him the sport of tempta- tion ; and does not give him over till he is fast bound in the chains of eternal death. In its very nature, it is deceitful; it is a stranger to all open and honest dealing ; its very element is the region of false appearances, and lying promises, and fatal snares. When it addresses itself to the unwary youth, it puts on a smiling countenance, and makes fair pretensions, and takes care to conceal its hideous features, till, like a serpent, it has entwined him with its deadly folds, and rendered his escape impossible. For instance, how common is it for jToung men to yield to the solicitations of evil com- EVILCOMPANY. 55 panions, from the notion that it discovers great inde- pendence of character ! But what sort of independ- ence, I would ask, is that which cannot command resolution enough to resist a few worthless and wicked companions ? What sort of independence is that which had rather put at hazard the interests of eternity, than to brave the sneers of half a dozen vile associates ? The truth is that the person who acts this part, shows himself the greatest coward that walks the earth: he is afraid to encounter the re- proaches of those whose censure is the highest praise ; and rather than to do it, he deliberately con- signs his character and his soul to destruction. Again, how often do young men become profane, from the idea that profaneness marks the gentleman; and that to break out occasionally in the language of cursing, gives them a sort of dignity and import- ance. But let them go out into the street, and see in what kind of characters this vice is to be found in its most frightful perfection ; and then say whether they wish to share the honor of profaneness with such companions. Let them listen to the poor drunkard who has fallen down in the highway, and is just waking from his beastly slumber, and they will find him muttering an oath ; cursing the God that made him, or it may be, the hand that is attempting to relieve him. Let them go into the most vulgar circles where not even decency is toler- ated, and there they will find profaneness, vulgarity, and intemperance, mingling in the same scene of dis- gusting riot. And yet they are cheated into the de- lusion that, at least, an occasional indulgence in this vice makes them more respectable. They are be- 56 DANGEROF guiled, as were our first parents by the fatal apple ; and think not of the danger, till it is too late to avert it. 2. We learn from this subject, how dreadful is the character of a corrupter of others. Every wicked man is more or less chargeable with this, whether he particularly intends it or not ; because it is im- possible for him to live in the world, without exert- ing an influence upon those with whom he associ- ates ; and this influence will receive its complexion altogether from his character. But there are men with whom the business of corrupting others is a profession ; who deliberately lay their plans for ruining immortal souls ; who seize upon the unwary youth, like the animal upon his prey, and never leave him till they have accomplished his destruction. I know not that there are any such here : I am willing to believe there are none: but if such a man has been providentially sent to the sanctuary, I cannot feel willing that he should go away without a word of warning. And I am not going to expostulate with you in regard to the danger, or cruelty, or guilt of your conduct ; but only to direct your thoughts to one event, which will as certainly overtake you as that there is a God in heaven. You are hastening to the judgment ; and at that awful bar, you will meet every soul that you have helped to destroy ; and the blood of each of these souls will be upon your own head. Nay, more ; your corrupting influ- ence may be propagated from generation to gene- ration ; and thousands whom you may never see in the flesh, may recognise you at the judgment as their EVILCOMPANY. 57 destroyer ; and the united curses of all these miser- able beings may be heaped upon you through the ages of a suffering eternity. If your heart has not absolutely received the dark seal of reprobation, or if all the fountains of feeling have not been con- gealed by the chilling atmosphere of vice, must not the prospect fill you with horror ? 3. The subject supplies an important argument to all in favor of a religious life. It is but too common for persons of vicious character to take shelter under the plea that they injure none but them- selves ; and that, whatever the consequence of their conduct may be, they alone must bear it. Never was there a greater mistake. A corrupt example, even where it is not accompanied by a deliberate purpose of corruption, mingles contagion with the whole moral atmosphere in which it operates ; and such must ever be its effect, until human nature is subject to a new set of laws. What a powerful mo- tive is here for a life of virtue and piety ! You are acting, not for yourselves alone, but for the world around you ; and when we urge you to a life of reli- gion, we are pleading in behalf of the immortal inter- ests of your fellow-men. What an argument also for the most exemplary circumspection on the part of the professed disciples of Christ ! You may have even a living principle of religion, which will secure your own salvation ; and yet for the want of proper vigilance, you may be betrayed into practices which will blast the rising germ of youthful promise, and even cause the darkest shades of vice to settle on some heart which had already begun to yield to the impressions of religion. How tremendous the thought 58 DANGEROF that a friend, by a careless and unedifying example, should be instrumental in destroying his friend for whom he would even have died ! How delightful, on the other hand, is the reflection, that, by yielding your hearts and lives to the purifying influence of the gospel, you may not only save yourselves, but may be preparing to meet some in heaven — it may be, the objects of your tenderest affection — who will have been conducted thither by the light of your ex- ample ! Finally: Let every young- person be deeply im- pressed with the danger of his situation, and avoid the beginning of evil. I cannot suppose that there is a youth before me, who has deliberately formed the purpose to resign himself to a vicious habit, and to persevere in it till he shall enter eternity. But I have reason to fear that there are those here in whom this fearful result will actually be realized ; those who are venturing into the path of vice with that most idle of all notions, that they shall retreat early enough to save their souls. Alas, with all your advantages, I fear you have not yet learned the slippery and insidious nature of vice. As well might you think to take the deadly viper into your bosom, and render him harmless by flattering words ; or as well might you drink down the fatal poison, and ex- pect to stop its progress in your system, when the blood had curdled at your heart, as to think of being the companion of fools, and yet not be destroyed. If you enter on a career of vice, and make the wicked your chosen companions, I acknowledge that Omnipo- tence may, in his adorable sovereignty, pluck you as EVILCOMPANY. 59 a brand out of the burning ; but witliout some special interposition which you have no right to expect, it is altogether probable that you will be lost forever. Your own safety lies in a cordial, practical, immedi- ate reception of the gospel of Christ. Every other guide will mislead you: — this will conduct you safely and certainly to heaven. And now, if such a conclusion would not do vio- lence to all the principles of human calculation, I would fain believe that all of you have resolved to enter immediately, and in earnest, on a religious life. But probably there are some here, who have not even thought of forming such a purpose ; and per- haps others who have formed it, in whose remem- brance it will hereafter exist, as a monument of the power of temptation, or the treachery of the heart. I confess that an ominous gloom settles upon my mind, as it ventures forward to explore the path of these persons through the darknes of futurity. I see them going away from this place, unaffected by all which they have heard, and returning to the haunts of sin with as keen a relish as ever. I see them becoming more and more hardened in vice, turning their backs upon religious instruction, and living as if eternity were a dream, and the word of God a fable. At no great distance onward in the path of life, I discover them struggling under the pressure of adversity. I hear them call to the world for assistance ; but the world turns a deaf ear to their entreaties. I extend my views yet a little fur- ther, and see these same persons on the bed of death. I see by the sinking countenance, the fluttering pulse, the faltering accents, that their conflict with the de- 60 DANGER OF EVIL COMPANY. stroyer has commenced. I cast an eye around me to see whether any of their former vicious compan- ions are present, to try to sustain them in this awful exigency; but not one of them is to be seen: theirs was the work of destruction, not of consolation. I see them writhing in agonies unutterable ; oppressed and appalled by the prospect of an opening retribu- tion, without a hold in the universe on which to hang a single hope. I hear their lamentations over a misspent life ; their cutting reflections upon their miserable associates ; their agonizing supplications for a longer space for repentance : and while my eye rests with horror on the frightful impressions that despair has made upon the countenance, I wit- ness the ominous change, which tells me that the soul is in eternity. And then, amidst all the wailings of parental tenderness which surround me ; and while my mind is busy in trying to recollect some word or look which might have been a symptom of repentance; — even then, from that world where "hope never comes that comes to all," I seem to hear echoed in groans of unavailing anguish, " the harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved !" And is there a youth before me, of whose future lot all this may prove to have been a faithful predic- tion? Especially, is there one who has been dedi- cated to God, and had the benefit of a Christian edu- cation and parental prayers, in whose experience this complicated wretchedness shall be realized ? " O Lord God, thou knowest!" LECTURE III. DANGER OF EVIL INSTRUCTION, PROVERBS, XIX. 27. Cease, my eon, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the words of linowledge. The primary elements of a good character are good principles. Not that good principles neces- sarily imply a good character ; for experience proves that passion often neutralizes their influence ; but a truly good character does necessarily involve good principles. Let a system of false opinions in re- spect to religion once gain possession of any mind, and what can you expect but that from this bitter fountain will issue streams of corruption and death? Hence it is that those evil men who corrupt and destroy the young, are exceedingly apt to assail, first, their religious principles ; not doubting, if they can gain a victory here, that they shall be able, with- out difficulty, to storm the citadel of the heart. To this end, they often make the great truths of religion the subject of conversation ; assailing them with sophistry on the one hand, and ridicule on the other. They thrust into their hands books and newspapers, to occupy their leisure, which are artfully designed to unhinge their moral and religious principles. 6 62 DANGEROF And not unfrequently this malignant agency is ex- erted in a covert manner ; and the youth is brought in contact with these vehicles of death, and has actually begun to extract the poison, before he is aware of it In short, every means of corrupting the principles of the young which the ingenuity of man can devise has been and still is employed ; and that too by persons of every rank, from the highest to the lowest in the community. It is in reference to efforts like these that the wise man gives the advice contained in our text : " Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the words of knowledge." In the spirit of this direction, I shall endeavor, in the present discourse, first, to EXPOSE SOME OF THE ERRORS OF WHICH YOUTH, AT THE PRESENT DAY, ARE IN DANGER; and, secondly, tjrge some considerations to dissuade them from being found in the way of evil instruction. I. I am, first, to expose some of the errors of which youth, at the present day, are in danger. 1. The first which I shall notice, is, that the Bible is not a divine revelation. I am aware that this is by no means a day of triumph for infidelity ; and that the man who now openly casts off* the authority of revelation, does it at the expense of being branded with at least some degree of public disgrace. Still there are to be found those, even at this day — and I fear not a few — who have hardihood enough to pronounce the EVIL INSTRUCTION. 63 Bible a forgery ; who deliberately set themselves to seal this fountain of consolation against the wretch- ed — this fountain of salvation against the sinner. Unhappily, we live so near the period in which the world was convulsed by what seemed the momentary triumph of infidelity, that infidels of our day find weapons enough for prosecuting their malignant war- fare, forged at their hands ; and yet, as it would seem, for no other purpose than to keep a malignant invention busy, they are, from time to time, replen- ishing their armory with other weapons of their own devising. Those to whom I now refer, are open in their hostility to the Bible : they breathe out the venom of infidelity wherever they go ; and put their books in circulation whenever they have oppor- tunity; and glory in their shame. But there are others who lend their aid to the same cause by means a little less direct, but not less effectual. Perhaps they will not tell you that they believe the Bible to be a forgery; perhaps they will even give a vague assent to its being a divine revelation; — but they will tell you, with nearly the same breath, of different passages which have a contradictory meaning ; of stories too trifling, and of doctrines too absurd, to have had any such a Being as God for their author : and thus, by endeavoring to bring into contempt a part of the Bible, they aim to destroy the authority of the whole. So long as men of this cha- racter are scattered through society, who can doubt that young people are in danger of being corrupted by infidelity ? Now, my young friends, I will tell you, if you are ever tempted for a moment, to give heed to those 64 DANGEROF who would persuade you to renounce your belief in the Bible as a divine revelation, what you must be able to prove, before you can consistently venture on infidel ground. You must be able to show that the miracles of which the Bible contains a record, either were never performed, or if they were, that they do not prove its divine authority. If you take the former side of the alternative, and say that these miracles were never performed, you must still admit either that they were pretended to be performed, or they were not. If they were pretended to be performed, as recorded in scripture, it behooves you to show how it was that so many competent witnesses, and among them the most malignant enemies, in circumstances the most favorable for detecting imposture, and for several years in succession, should actually have been deceived. If you say that they were not pre- tended to be performed, then you have to account for the fact that such a record of them as that which the Bible contains, should have been made, at the very time when the imposture — if it were one — was most open to detection ; and that it should have been circulated first among the very persons who would have been most interested and most able to detect it; who yet never even pretended to call the facts in question. If you say that the record of these mira- cles was not made during the age in which they were professedly performed, but that it was palmed upon some succeeding age, then you have to account for the fact that the whole mass of historical testimony fixes the date of this record to nearly the period in which they are alleged to have been performed ; EVIL INSTRUCTION. 65 and you have this additional difficulty to solve; — how a record of facts, purporting to have occurred under the observation of the very people to whom the record was first given, could have been received by them as a true record, when, at the same time, no such facts had ever fallen within their knowledge. But if you choose the latter side of the alterna- tive, and say that these miracles were actually wrought, but still do not prove the Bible to be a divine revelation; — you have then to show either that the God of truth would give the stamp of his authority to falsehood, or else that these mighty works were performed by the aid of evil spirits ; for that they transcended the limits of human power, admits of no question. The former of these suppo- sitions — that Jehovah has lent his sanction to false- hood — you will not dare to admit, even in thought. If you admit the latter, and refer the miracles of the Bible to diabolical agency, then you have this great moral phenomenon to explain — how the enemy of all good came to be so heartily and earnestly en- gaged in the destruction of his own kingdom; for the manifest tendency of all the miracles of the Bible was to promote the cause of righteousness. Here then you perceive, at the threshold of infi- delity, you have most serious difficulties to encoun- ter ; but the half has not been told yoiL You have, farther, to account for the fact that this book con- tains a long chain of prophecies, extending almost from the beginning of the world to the present time, and to all future ages; — that, as the plan of Provi- dence has been developed, these prophecies have regularly had their fulfilment in the history of the 6* 66 DANGEROF church and the world; — that the most minute and improbable events have occurred in exact corre- spondence with predictions which were written ages oefore their occurrence. If there were no divine wisdom here, whence this marvellous power of lift- ing- the veil that hides futurity ? How is it that a worm can tell of things that are to be, unless it has been mounting up above the dust, and holding com- munion with Omniscience ? Who dares be so im- pious as to say that Jehovah would arrange the sys- tem of his providence, to meet the conjectures of weak fanaticism or wicked imposture ? You have, moreover, before you can consistently reject the divine authority of the Bible, to account for the fact that so many different persons as were concerned in writing it, living in different ages, in various states of society, and in circumstances to preclude the possibility of collusion, could have pro- duced a book between whose various parts there is the most perfect, though evidently on their part the most undesigned, harmony. If all the letters of which the Bible is composed were to be separated from each other, and thrown promiscuously into the air, and should fall to the earth in precisely the order which they originally held, making a regular and complete book, it would not be a greater anomaly in human experience, than would be found in the fact that such a book as the Bible is, in respect to the harmony of its parts, should have been made in the circumstances in which it was made, independ- ently of divine inspiration. You have still farther to account for the fact, that men living in a rude state of society, and many of EVIL INSTRUCTION. 67 them with the most limited advantages for intellectual cultivation, should have produced compositions, which, in sublimity both of thought and language, leave far behind the finest models whether of ancient or modern times. The most perfect specimens of narrative which the world has seen, are found in the gospels ; but what was there in the laborious occu- pation of fishermen, that gave promise of these matchless performances ? If you deny that these persons wrote under divine inspiration, whence the mighty difi*erence between their productions and what you could reasonably expect from persons in the same sphere of life, and with much better advan- tages of education, among ourselves ? You have also to account for the fact, that the Bible presents a higher standard of moral purity than is any where else to be found ; that all its doc- trines and precepts, all its promises and threatenings, are worthy of an infinitely holy God. Tell us, if this be imposture, how it has come to pass that wicked men — the enemies of holiness — have pro- duced the holiest book that the world has ever seen. If they could have done this, where was the motive to influence them to it, so long as it was directly opposed to their corrupt views and purposes ? If they had desired to do it, would it not still, being conceived in sin, necessarily have borne, in a greater or less degree, the moral likeness of its authors ? And, finally, you have to account for the wonderful efficacy with which the Bible has been attended. Compare the combined moral eflTects which have been produced by all the other books in the world, with those which have been produced by the Bible, 68 .DANGEROF and the former dwindle to nothing in the comparison. It is the Bible which is the means of accomplishing such wonderful transformations, as we sometimes see, of human character : making the proud, humble ; the vindictive, forgiving ; the cruel, tender-hearted ; — causing the swearer to reverence the name of God ; the drunkard to lay aside his cups ; the disho- nest man to give back his ill gotten gains ; and the miser to open his coft'ers to the call of charity. It is the Bible which has shed the light of peace and hope around the path of adversity ; which has been a pillow for sickness, and a staff for old age ; which has caused the voice of rejoicing to rise even from the valley of death. It is the Bible which has demo- lished altars of cruelty and temples of idolatry ; which has illumined the wilderness with the light of civilization, and for savage customs has substituted the soft charities of life ; which, as it travels round the globe, sends abroad a healing influence, and leaves a bright track of glory behind it. Whence is it, I ask, that the Bible produces these wonderful effects, if it has not God for its author? How is it, if it be the work of man, that it has survived all the efforts which have been made for its destruction ; that, like the burning bush, it has been always on fire, and yet has never been consumed ? Such, my young friends, are some of the difiiculties to be encountered, before you can, with any show of reason, reject the divine authority of the scriptures. You must be able to show that the miracles which the Bible records, either were never performed, or if they were, that they do not prove it to be a divine revelation ; that the prophecies which it contains, EVIL INSTRUCTION. 69 notwithstanding their literal and exact accomplish- ment, were only fortunate conjectures. You must be able to account for the fact that so many writers, on such a subject, and in such circumstances, have written with perfect harmony ; that men compara- tively destitute of intellectual culture, have written with such unparalleled sublimity ; that men of most corrupt minds, (for the idea of imposture necessarily supposes this,) have made a book which breathes the most elevated purity ; and finally that this Book, bearing the signature of Heaven upon its title-page, and thus affronting Jehovah by a lie, has gone abroad, changing the moral wilderness into a garden, and l^ouring light and joy into every bosom by which it has been welcomed. Until you are able to account for these and many similar facts, you cannot, for a moment, consistently place your foot on infidel ground. How, then, ought you to estimate the cavils of infidelity % As lighter than nothing, till you have deliberately and satisfactorily met all the difficulties which have now been suggested. 2. Another error of which young people, at the present day, are in danger, is, that no atonement was necessary that God might pardon sin ; and that it was no part of the design of Chrisfs death to make an atonement. This error is, of course, held by all who reject the divine authority of the Bible : it is held also by many who profess, in some sense, to acknowledge its claims to inspiration. The former class deny the necessity of an atonement; but regarding the Bible as a mere human production, neither ask nor care whether it 70 DANGEROF contains the doctrine or not. The latter class, in common with the former, assert that an atonement was not necessary ; but they go farther, and also assert that this doctrine is not found in the Bible. Before you receive this error, you ought to be able satisfactorily to answer the following inquiries. Hoio could God grant an absolute pardon to the sinner, and yet maintain the dignity of his character and government ? The law which God has given to man as a rule of conduct, is perfectly holy, both in its requisitions and in its penalty. But man, by not obeying the requisitions of the law, has become obnoxious to its penalty. Suppose, now, that the great Lawgiver and Judge should remit the offence, without any expression of his displeasure against it; in what attitude must he place himself, in view of the intelligent universe? Would not the question be agitated in every part of the creation in which the fact was known — why an infinitely wise and holy God should make a law to be trampled upon with impunity ; and if it were fit that the law should be made, why it were not also fit that its honor should be maintained ? Is it an expression of infinite holi- ness, to let sin go unpunished 1 Is it an expression of infinite wisdom or benevolence, to connive at a spirit of rebellion in one part of the universe, and thus to hold out encouragement to the same spirit in every other part of it I If these questions must be answered in the negative, then I ask, whether Reason herself knows any other alternative, than that an atonement must be made, or the sinner must perish? Again : If Jesus Christ did not die as an atoning sacrifice, whence the connection between the ancient EVIL INSTRUCTION. 71 sacrifices and the pardon of sin ? That such a con- nection existed under the Mosaic dispensation, no person who reads the Bible can doubt ; victims were constantly offered under the name of sin-offerings, as an atonement for the sins of the people. That there is no natural connection between the slaying of an animal and the forgiveness of sin, is obvious ; and, moreover, the apostle expressly declares that " the blood of bulls and goats cannot take away sin." Whence, then, did these sacrifices derive either their significance or their efficacy, if they are not to be considered as types of the great sacrifice of Christ ? Moreover : How will you reconcile it with infinite wisdom, that God should have employed means so disproportioned in their importance to the end which he designed to accomplish ? If the object of Christ's death were to make atonement for sin, then here was an end to be answered of sufficient magni- tude to warrant the most expensive means that could be employed. But if he lived merely as a teacher, and died merely as a martyr, whence the wonderful preparation that was made for his advent and his death; and whence the wonderful interest which these events have excited, both on earth and in hea- ven ? Why this constant reference to the Messiah in all the rites of the ancient dispensation ? Why was he the burden of prophecy, during a period of four thousand years ? Why was his birth celebrated by the songs of angels, and his death signalized by the convulsions of nature? If his object had been merely to instruct the world, and to seal the truth of his testimony with his blood ; could not this object have been effected by some lower personage than 72 • DANGEROF Him who was the Brightness of the Father's glory ? and if this were so, whence the mighty difference between him and his apostles, which should invest his life and death with so much more importance than theirs ? Whence is it too that his death awakens so much wonder, and gratitude, and joy, in heaven ; that even the angels make it the theme of their high praises ; if, after all, no higher object was gained by it than to prove himself sincere in preaching an im- proved system of moral virtue ? I ask, again, whence this wonderful disproportion between means and ends, which there actually is, if Jesus Christ did not die a vicarious sacrifice for the sins of the world ? And finally, under this article, what explanation will you give of the following passages of scripture, consistent with a rejection of the doctrine of atone- ment ? " Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows." " He was wounded for our transgressions ; he was bruised for our iniquities : the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed." " The Lord hath laid on him the ini- quity of us all." " Being justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." " Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteous- ness for the remission of sins that are past through the forbearance of God." " Even as the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many." " Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree." " In whom we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins ; according to the riches of his EVIL INSTRUCTION. 73 grace." " Ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot." " Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God ; to Him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen." These are some of the more prominent passages in which the design of Christ's death is exhibited : Which of them all, let me ask, even seem to teach, that he died merely, or chiefly, as a martyr to the truth of his doctrines 1 If the doctrine of atonement is not explicitly taught here, we ask for language in which it can be conveyed intelligibly. 3. Another error to which young people, at the present day, are exposed, is, that a spiritual renova- tion, or radical change of character, is not necessary to salvation. Bui what is implied in salvation? Nothing less than being admitted to a participation of the joys of heaven. But what is the character of heavenly joys? They are perfectly holy; nothing that de- fileth can ever enter the kingdom. What sort of taste or disposition, then, must be necessary in order to relish or participate these joys ? Undoubtedly, a perfectly holy one ; for the very idea of happiness includes in it a correspondence between the taste of the individual, and the objects or pursuits from which the happiness is derived. You might, for instance, bring the most delicious food before a man whose taste was vitiated by disease \ and though the food would be good in itself, and would be grateful to a 7 74 DANGEROF healthy appetite, yet to the sick man it would only be an occasion of loathing. So also in reference to the joys of heaven — though they are not only real, but far surpass in extent all our conceptions, yet, in order that they may become ours, we must possess a temper conformed to them. But does man, by na- ture, possess this temper? Let every man's expe- rience answer. Let the history of the world an- swer. Above all, let the word of God answer. "Every imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth." " The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked." " They are altogether be- come filthy : there is none that doeth good, no not one." " The natural man discerneth not the things of the Spirit of God ; for they are foolishness unto him ; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned." If such be the natural cha- racter of man, and such the nature of heavenly joys, is it not manifest, even on principles of reason, that a radical change is necessary to the sinner, before he can be admitted to heaven ? Hear now the direct testimony of God on this sub- ject. By the mouth of his prophet Ezekiel, he says : " A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you : and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh." " But as many as received him," says the apostle John, " to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name : which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God." Our Saviour himself declares, "Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." The EVIL INSTRUCTION. 75 apostle Paul, having described the exceedingly de- praved character of the Corinthians previous to their conversion, says, in reference to the change they had experienced : " But ye are washed, ye are justified, ye are sanctified, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God." And again : " Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but ac- cording to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and the renewing of the Holy Ghost." What meaning, having the semblance of plausibility, can you attach to these passages, if you deny that they teach the necessity of a radical change wrought by the immediate influence of the Holy Spirit, in order to salvation? 4. The fourth and only remaining error which I shall here notice, is, that either no punishment, or only a limited one, awaits the wicked in a future world. If you say that the wicked are not to be punished at all in a future state, you must maintain the posi- tion either on the ground that they will cease to sin at death, or else that the connection between sin and misery will be dissolved. Will you take the former g^round, and say that the wicked at death are deli- vered from all sin? But by what means is this ac- complished? Is it by death itself? No; for death is only a termination of the animal functions — a mere passage from one world to another ; and surely there is nothing in this that can afiJect the moral state of the soul in any way. But do you say that it is by a divine influence, operating upon the soul in the action of death? You say this without any war- 76 DANGEROF rant ; for the Bible has given no such intimation. But if it he so, this influence is either exerted in con- sistency with man's moral nature, or it is not. If it is thus exerted, then of course the sinner must be conscious, in some measure, of those moral exercises which precede and attend regeneration ; must be conscious of co-operating with the Spirit of God, both in conviction and conversion. But this surely is not true; for, in a multitude of instances, the sin- ner dies in stupidity or delirium, and sometimes in the act of challenging the vengeance of God. If you say that this influence is not exerted according to the laws of our moral nature, then, in respect to this point at least, you make man a mere machine: you have gone over to fatalism, and are not to be reasoned with. But do you choose the other side of the alterna- tive, and take the ground that the connection between sin and misery will not exist after death ? But here again, as there is nothing in death to destroy the ex- istence of sin in the soul, neither is there any thing in it to change its nature. It is part of the nature of sin to produce misery, just as truly as it belongs to the sun to impart light ; and though this tendency is not always manifest in the present life, yet it is only on account of the countervailing influences which grow out of our present condition. Just in proportion as the sinner is removed from these in- fluences even here, you see him reaping a harvest of wretchedness. As he will be completely removed from them in a future world, what can prevent sin from having its legitimate operation in making him completely wretched ? EVIL INSTRUCTION. 77 But perhaps you admit that there is a degree of punishment in a future world, but maintain that it will he limited in its duration. The idea that an immortal soul should be doomed to suffer inconceiva- ble woe, during its whole existence, is so dreadful, that you shrink from the admission of it. And what then ? Is that any reason why you should reject the plain testimony of God ? Let it be remembered that this is a case in respect to which the wishes of men have nothing to do. The grand question in relation to it is, not what you desire to be true, but what actually is true. The criminal on the scaffold no doubt wishes to see his sentence re- mitted ; but that wish has no influence to prevent the executioner from doing his office. Not more does the dread which is associated in your mind with the idea of eternal punishment, constitute any evidence against its reality. But you say, perhaps, that it would not consist with the benevolence of God to inflict eternal punish- ment for the sins committed in this short life. Let it be remembered that we are but miserable judges in this matter. Is it consistent with God's infinite benevolence to bury the ship, laden with human be- ings, in the mighty deep ; or to cause the earth to open, and swallow up thousands, whom we are ac- customed to call innocent? None but the atheist will deny this ; for such events actually do take place under his administration. By what superhuman wis- dom, then, are you enabled to decide that the eternal punishment of the sinner cannot consist with infinite benevolence'? Whence have you gained that know- ledge of the exact influence of sin on God's moral 7» 78 DANGEROF universe, which qualifies you to pronounce that its punishment must be limited, or his perfection must be sacrificed? But if the punishment of the sinner is hereafter to come to a termination, in what 7nanner is this to be effected ? Do you say that his sufferings will be dis- ciplinary ; and that in consequence of their reform- ing and purifying influence, he will ere long be pre- pared for the happiness of heaven ? here again, this is a gratuitous assumption — no such influence being attributed to the sufferings of the wicked in the word of God. But this notion is moreover contradicted by the analogy of experience. Would the parent, if he wished to reform an abandoned child, be likely to confine him constantly to the company of those who were equally or even more abandoned than himself? And is it not true in fact, that when the wicked in the present life have been doomed for their crimes, by the sentence of human law, to confinement with those of a character similar to their own, they have generally come away monuments, not of the reform- ing, but of the corrupting and hardening influence of such kind of punishment ? Where then is the ground for believing that the wicked in a future world, by being associated with those who continually blas- pheme God, and oppose the interests of his kingdom, will become conformed to his image, and acquire a relish for his service? Admitting, however, this remedial tendency which you attribute to the sufferings of the sinner, you have yet another difficulty to surmount — it is to de- termine how the sinner can he delivered from punish- ment in consistency with the sentence of God's law. EVIL INSTRUCTION. 79 The only alternative that here presents itself is, either that he has actually suffered the full penalty of the law, and is released on the score of justice ; or else that his deliverance is effected through the effi- cacy of Christ's atonement. But both sides of this alternative are mere assumptions — not warranted even by the semblance of scripture authority ; and as for reason, if she has any thing to say concerning them, it is certainly nothing in their favor. But against both these suppositions, as well as against that of the disciplinary tendency of the sufferings of the wicked, there stands arrayed that mass of divine testimony, which exhibits the present world as the only world of probation, and the future as a world of unalterable retribution. " Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do," says Solomon, "do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave" — the world of departed spi- rits — " whither thou goest." Says the prophet Isaiah, " They that go down into the grave, cannot hope for thy truth." " The night cometh," saith our Saviour, that is, the night of death, " in which no man can work." As there is to be no change in the charac- ter of man after he leaves this world, the scriptures teach that we shall be judged according to " the deeds done in the body ;" and rewarded "according to our works," performed on this side the grave. It is clear then that the Bible has decided that, neither on the ground of justice, nor on the ground of mercy, will the punishment of the sinner be re- mitted, after he has become an inhabitant of the eternal world. 80 DANGEROF But there are many other passages of scripture, in which the doctrine of eternal punishment is not only implied, but explicitly declared. The prophet Isaiah, filled with the most awful impressions of the future state of the wicked, exclaims, " Who can inhabit ever lasting burnings?" Our blessed Lord himself, speaking of the wicked, says, " These shall go away into everlasting punishment." Paul says concern- ing those who obey not the gospel, that " they shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and the glory of his power." And John, in the Revelation, declares concerning the inhabitants of the bottomless pit, that " the smoke of their torment ascendeth up /or ever and ever." But you will say, perhaps, that the words " ever- lasting," " eternal," " for ever and ever," &lc. do not necessarily im,ply unlimited duration, as they are sometimes used in scripture in reference to objects whose duration is acknowledged to be limited. To this I reply, that, whatever this language may denote in certain cases, the manner in which it is used as de- scriptive of the punishment of the wicked, precludes the idea of limited duration ; for the same language which expresses the duration of the miseries of the wicked, is employed, in the very same connection, to express that of the happiness of the righteous ; which all acknowledge to be unlimited. " Some shall arise to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt." " And these shall go away into ever- lasting punishment, but the righteous into life eter- nal" — or " everlasting life ;" the same Greek word being used in the latter case as in the former. Here then is an example of the strongest expressions to be EVIL INSTRUCTION. 81 found in the Greek and Hebrew languages, being used by the Spirit of God, and in circumstances in no way liable to exception, to describe the duration of future punishment. The only alternative which these passages suggest is, either that the miseries of the wicked will be strictly eternal, or else that the happiness of the righteous will be limited. If, however, after all, you choose not to admit the passages already quoted as decisive on this point, there are others not liable to the criticism to which I have referred, and which undoubtedly convey the idea of unlimited duration, if it can be conveyed by human language. Such are the following : " Their worm dieth not, and their fire is not quenched." " They shall never see lifie." " They shall never en- ter into rest." " It were good for that man if he had never been born." Surely it would have been better for Judas to have been born, if, after suffering mil- lions of ages, he should finally begin an endless career of happiness and glory. There is yet another test to which the doctrine which I am considering may very properly be re- ferred. I mean its moral tendency : for it requires no argument to prove that that doctrine which re- moves any of the restraints to sinful indulgence, cannot have God for its author. Now then I inquire, if there be no punishment, or only a temporary punishment, for the wicked, in a future world — in other words, if virtue and vice are ultimately to find the same level, — I inquire what there is to keep a wicked man from any deeds of iniquity to which his inclinations may prompt him, provided only he can escape the eye and the arm of 82 DANGEROF human law. The wretch whose ruling passion is the love of gold, casts his eye covetously upon your possessions ; but they are so guarded that he cannot reach them without shedding your blood : what hinders then, if death be the gate of glory to all, but that, when he has once satisfied himself that he can escape detection, he should draw his dagger and stab you in the dark ? Nor is the penalty of human law, upon his principle, greatly to be dreaded, or even dreaded at all ; for it is only anticipating a little a momentary pang, which is, after all, the har- binger of eternal joy. Is it not then manifestly the tendency of this doctrine, to throw open the flood- gates of iniquity, and to license to the utmost every corrupt propensity of the heart ? You perceive then, my young friends, that you have most serious difficulties to encounter from rea- son, scripture, and experience, before you can adopt either scheme of universal salvation. Be not so un- wise as to yield to the dictates of mere feeling on this subject. It is a matter, I repeat, to be decided, not by the wishes of men, but by the testimony of God. To this then, as the ultimate source of evidence, be your appeal ; and if the doctrine is taught here, that the punishment of the wicked will be eternal, remem- ber that heaven and earth shall sooner pass away, than one jot or tittle of what Jehovah has threatened shall fail of being accomplished. II. I have now completed the examination which I designed, of some of the more common errors to which young people, at the present day, are exposed: I proceed, secondly, to suggest some considera- EVIL INSTRUCTION. 83 TIONS WITH A VIEW TO DISSUADE YOU FROM BEING FOUND IN THE WAY OF EVIL INSTRUCTION. The wise man, in the text, cautions the young, not merely to avoid giving heed to the instruction of the wicked, but to avoid even hearing it. " Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the words of knowledge." The idea clearly is, that you are not to allow yourselves, in any way, to be familiar with corrupt sentiments ; neither by reading bad books, nor by listening to the preaching or conversa- tion of bad men. 1. The first consideration which I shall offer, as a reason why you should not be found in the way of evil instruction, is, that that there is great danger that you will embrace the errors with which you thus become acquainted. This danger results partly from the fact that men naturally love darkness rather than light. Of this fact the history of the world furnishes abundant proof; else how will you account for it, not only that men in all ages have misinterpreted the voice of God speaking to them in his works and ways, and that they have worshipped every thing as God but Jehovah himself, but also that so many have shut their eyes against the broad light of revelation, and have either denied its divine authority, or else per- verted it to sanction the most gross and fatal errors. Taking for granted then this fact, it amounts to nothing less than a predisposition in the human heart to the reception of error. Suppose your bodily system was exactly predisposed to some con- tagious disease, would not that fact greatly increase 84 DANGEROF your clanger, on being brought into contact with the elements of infection ? Or suppose an individual had a strong thirst for intoxicating liquors, would not this invest with additional danger all opportunities for indulging in the use of them ? Is it not equally manifest that that natural aversion to the reception of God's truth, of which I have spoken, must be peculiarly favorable to the influence of evil instruc- tion? But this danger farther arises from the love of novelty, and the pride of opinion. There is some- thing exceedingly grateful to many youthful minds, in the reflection that they have turned off from the beaten track; — that they have escaped from vulgar prejudices, and broken away from the trammels of education, and that they are giving the world a fine example of independent thought. But this spirit finds but little aliment in the way of truth ; for that is a highway, and the simple and unlettered walk in it ; and the way to be distinguished from the vulgar herd, is to leave this plain path, and broach some wild or wicked speculation. More or less of this spirit no doubt belongs to human nature ; and though you may not hitherto have been sensible of its opera- tion, yet if you venture into the way of evil instruc- tion, there is great danger that you will find, not only that this spirit exists, but that it exerts a powerful influence in opening your mind to the reception of error. Moreover, you are in danger of embracing the errors which you accustom yourselves to hear de- fended, from the fact that familiarity with error, as with vice, has a tendency to make you insensible of EVIL INSTRUCTION. 85 its deformity. This tendency results partly from the power of habit, and partly from the deceitful nature of sin ; and it exists universally, though it must be acknowledged that it is often counteracted by the influence of circumstances. The process by which it discovers itself, needs only to be described, to be recognised by every one as a reality. The youth who has been educated to reverence the Bible as God's word, when he first hears it assailed by in- fidel cavils and scoffs, shudders at the impiety, and perhaps wonders that God suffers such a wretch to live. He hears the same thing the second time, but with less horror than before. He hears it again and again, and at length ceases to be affected by the im- piety. At no distant period, he gathers bravery enough to smile at what once made him tremble ; to assent to that, which once drew from him expres- sions of abhorrence. At a more remote point in the process, he cordially takes the infidel by the hand, and greets him as a brother; thus, perhaps, in a little period, having travelled the whole distance from a firm belief to a total rejection of the Bible. Say, my young friends, whether all this is not per- fectly natural, and easily accounted for on the principle that familiarity with error blinds the mind to its inherent odiousness. Venture not then in the way of evil instruction, lest, through the operation of the same principle, you should be the subjects of the same disastrous change. Another consideration which renders it probable that you will embrace the errors which you hear de- fended, is, that, from your age and inexperience, you cannot be supposed to he properly furnished for 8 86 DANGEROF an encounter with error. The man who, when pro- perly armed, might stand his ground against a com- pany of ruffians, would, if stripped of his armor, fall into their hands at the first onset. In like manner, the man who has been long accustomed to study his Bible, might find little difficulty, and be in little dan- ger, in meeting the cavils of the enemies of truth ; while he who is comparatively unacquainted with the word of God, might be easily entangled and drawn away by their sophistry. Taking it for granted then that you have not that deep and thorough knowledge of the Bible which might more naturally be looked for in advanced life, you cannot but perceive that you are in great danger, from this circumstance, of receiving the errors which are de- fended in your hearing. Cavils which might be satisfactorily answered in many ways, and the fallacy of which a more thorough knowledge of the word of God might enable you instantly to detect, assume, from your ignorance, the weight of arguments ; and there is danger that you will soon come to conclude that what you cannot answer, is unanswerable. But the consideration which crowns the evidence of your danger on this subject, is, that multitudes of youth, from hearing evil instruction, actually have embraced the errors with which they have thus been made familiar . Yes, I could point you to many a young person, who thought himself safe when he ventured on this forbidden ground, and felt confident that his belief of the truth was never to be shaken, who can now speak boldly in defence of the most dangerous errors, and even pour contempt on the revelation of God- Tell me, my young friends, what EVIL INSTRUCTION. 87 there is in your circumstances which promises that the same experiment will result more favorably in respect to you. Rely on it, that ground which your curiosity may tempt you to explore, is beset with snares ; if you venture among them, take heed lest they prove to you the snares of death. 2. Guard against being found in the way of evil instruction, because there is great danger that you will not only by this means embrace error, but that you will retain it till the close of life. There are two principles which will operate powerfully towards such a result. The first is, the •pride of consistency. The circumstances in which the error is supposed to be embraced, are exceed- ingly well fitted to bring this principle into action. You have become an errorist under the teaching of wicked men, who have watched you in every step of your progress, who have triumphed in their success, and have congratulated you on being set free from puritanical prejudices. In your intercourse with them and with others, you have probably gloried in your opposition to the truth ; for it usually happens that the truth finds its bitterest enemies in the ranks of apostacy. How dilficult then must it be to come down from this high stand which you have taken, into the dust ; to acknowledge, after all your confi- dent boasting, that you have been left to believe a lie ! How hard to bear the taunting accusation of fickleness or hypocrisy ; to be assailed by the h'ss of contempt, instead of being greeted with the smile of approbation ! If you have embraced error in the circumstances to which I have referred, is not here 88 DANGEROF a powerful consideration to prevent you from abandoning it? Even if doubts should sometimes force themselves upon you, is it not probable that this pride of consistency — this fear of the world's dread laugh, would lead you to shake them off as soon as possible? The other principle to which I referred as likely to operate in preventing you from abandoning your errors, when they are once adopted, is a regard to present comfort. No matter from what considera- tion you may have been induced to receive them — when once received, they will of course exert an in- fluence to quiet the conscience, and thus minister to a life of sin. The man who speculatively believes the great truths of the Bible, has but little to defend him against the arrows of conviction. When the threaten- ings of God are thundered in his ears, conscience is exceedingly apt to take advantage of his belief, to stir up tumult and agony in his heart. But the man who has embraced any fundamental error, carries a shield upon his conscience, which the sharpest arrows from the quiver of the Almighty can scarcely penetrate. He is at ease under the preaching of the word, under the warnings of Providence, in revivals of religion, and is even mighty to oppose the opera- tions of God's Holy Spirit: but take from him his system of error, and you strip him of the armor in which he trusted ; you leave him as liable to the terrors of conviction, as other men. But in every human bosom there is a natural dread of misery ; especially in the bosom of the sinner, a dread of finding himself exposed to the wrath of God. How probable is it then, on this ground, that if you have EVIL INSTRUCTION. 89 once yielded to the influence of error, you will never abandon it. It produces a feeling of safety which you love to cherish ; whereas the parting with it must be the signal for a painful sense of exposure to the most awful calamities. I have said that there is a probability that a system of error once adopted will be retained till the close of life : perhaps I ought rather to say till near the close; — for experience proves that the approach of death has a mighty influence to break up these delusions. Cases indeed occur, in which the soul clings to them to the last, and even with apparent triumph ; but the instances are far more numerous, in which the most honest confessions, and the most gloomy forebodings, pronounce these systems of error to be refuges of lies. But this conviction is often — perhaps usually, nothing more than the con- viction of despair. The soul, just in the act of making its change — though it may abandon the error, is not in a condition to escape from its influ- ence ; and hence it may be said in the most import- ant and practical sense, that those by whom error is once received, will probably carry it with them to the gates of eternity. 3. Guard against being found in the way of evil instruction; because the errors to which you are thus exposed, if adopted, and retained till the close of life, must he fatal to your souls. I here refer particu- larly to those errors which have been examined in the former part of this discourse, though they are by no means the only ones of fatal tendency. Let it be remembered that these errors are, in the 8* 90 DANGEROF highest degree, 'practical. There are many false notions, and even in respect to religion, which may- be held with little or no hazard ; because they are at best mere matters of speculation, and do not involve any great point of duty or interest. But it is other- wise in respect to those which we have been con- sidering : they contemplate man in his relations to God and eternity ; and involve interests too mo- mentous for the human mind adequately to estimate. I know there are those who will have it, that nothing is practical in religion, but what relates to external morality and to the present life ; but surely those are the most practical truths, in the only proper sense of that word, which are fitted to exert the greatest influence in preparing men for heaven ; and those the most practical errors, which minister most directly and effectually to the soul's everlasting destruction. But the fatal influence of the errors of which I have spoken, is more directly manifest in the fact, that they either sweep away the ojily foundation of the sinner^ s hope, or else they effectually prevent a compliance with the terms on which salvation is offered. If you believe that the Bible is not the word of God, then you set at nought all that God has done for your salvation, and fairly bring your- self under the sentence, "He that believeth not shall be damned." If you believe that Jesus Christ has made no atonement for sin, it were absurd to suppose that you should ever rest your soul's everlasting interests on his atonement ; and yet this is the only sure foundation. If you believe neither the reality nor the necessity of a renovation of heart by the EVIL INSTRUCTION. 91 Holy Spirit, what motive will you have to seek it ? But Jesus himself has declared, " Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." And finally, if you believe that there is to be no punishment, or only a limited punishment, of the wicked in a future world, what influence will this belief be likely to exert, other than that to Avhich I have already referred ; that of quieting your fears, and encouraging you to walk the downward road? I do not say that it is not possible, but that the ten- dency of this latter doctrine may, in individual instances, be counteracted ; but we may safely say that, if such instances exist, they are exceedingly rare ; and that this error has generally a most direct and visible influence in carrying the soul down to perdition. And is it so, my young friends, that the errors to which you are exposed are fraught with such amaz- ing danger ? Is it so, that every eflfort made to cor- rupt your principles, is an eflbrt to destroy your souls ? Then venture not into the way of evil instruction. Regard with more horror the man who would shake your belief in the truths of religion, than the assassin who waits to plunge a dagger into your heart. The one aims only at the death of the body, which must die soon in the course of nature : the other aims at the death of the soul ; — a death fraught with ever- lasting agony. If you are tempted to place your- self, even for an hour, in the way of hearing the truths of the Bible ridiculed or opposed, yield not to the temptation, unless you have made up your mind to encounter the agonies of the lost. 92 DANGER OF EVIL INSTRUCTION. And now what remains but that I exhort you to value and love the Bible 1 Be not satisfied with a vague and inoperative assent to its authority or its doctrines ; but let your belief in both be intelligent and influential. Study it daily with diligence and prayer. Endeavor not only to become familiar with its truths, but to become imbued with its spirit. Bind it about your heart, as the richest treasure that God has ever given to mortals. In this way, you will early become fortified against the influence of evil instruction; will have a sure guide amidst difliculties, a substantial solace in sorrow, an unfailing refuge in death. Give me the directions which the Bible fur- nishes, and I will ask for no other guide amidst the devious paths of human life. Give me the conso- lations which the Bible yields, and I will ask for no other staff to support me when I go down into the dark valley. LECTURE IV. DANGER OF A LIFE OF PLEASURE ECCLESIASTES, XI. 9. Eejoice, O young man, in thy youth ; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth ; and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes : but know thou, that for all these things, God will bring thee into judgment. A MORE cutting and awful piece of irony than is contained in this passage, is, perhaps, not to be found either in or out of the sacred volume. The wise man in the first part of the verse, assumes the cha- racter of a gay and thoughtless libertine ; and, in the true spirit of a libertine, counsels the youth whom he is addressing, to give himself up to an unrestrained course of amusement and dissipation. He bids him abandon all serious thoughts of God, and eternity, and religion. He welcomes him to the joys of an irreligious and profligate life ; and gives him all the liberty which any sensualist could desire. Having so far represented the wicked seducer and destroyer of the young, he suddenly lays aside his assumed character, and, with all the solemnity of a preacher from the world of spirits, closes the verse in a style of the most impressive admonition. The same young person, whom he had just before pointed into the path of forbidden pleasure, he now points to the judgment 94 DANGEROF seat of Christ ; and alludes with awful emphasis to that tremendous reckoning, which must succeed such a life as he had recommended. " Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth ; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth ; and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes : but know thou, that for all these things, God will bring thee into judgment." Our subject, at once, lays itself before you. In the first part of the text, there is the ironical invi- tation to partake of sinful pleasure ; in the latter part the solemn admonition to remember the judgment. Let us endeavor, so far as we can, to enter into the spirit of both parts of the passage. " Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth ; and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes:" — almost the very language by which many youth at the present day are tempted into the path of forbidden pleasure. Coming from the lips of the sensualist, it is no irony; it is the honest language of his heart ; and he rejoices when it is listened to and obeyed. Hear the sentiment contained in these words, a little expanded : — " You are now in the morning of life — the season most free from worldly care, and most adapted to worldly pleasure. However it may be with middle life, or old age, when the vigor of the body is spent, or the animal spirits have grown cool, this is not the time for religion. You were made to enjoy life ; but religion is only a course of mortification and penance ; it is the bondage both of soul and body — the grave of all that is bright and A LIFE OF PLEASURE. 95 goodly in the lot of man. Resist, then, the claims of religion, at least for the present. If you should think it meet to beckon her to you in your last hour, as a companion through the dark valley, be it so ; but while these years of youthful buoyancy are pass- ing off, make no league with this damper of human joy. Come with us into these scenes of mirth and revelry, in which reflection is drowned, and restraint is not known : and here let your heart be surfeited with pleasure. What if, after having devoted hours to amusement, the thought should occur to you, while in the solitude of your chamber, that all that you had enjoyed was vanity? Endeavor to convince yourself of the contrary, by thinking how happy you were while you were listening to the festive song, or while you were dancing to the sound of the viol. What if the open grave of some beloved friend should bring into your mind the gloomy thought of dying? Banish it as an intruder upon the joys of life ; and think how useless it is to trouble yourself about what is inevitable. What if the thought should occur to you, while at the gaming table, or in scenes of profane and boisterous riot, that you have beloved friends who would weep blood, if they should know where you are and how you are engaged? But what right have friends to abridge your pleasure, so long as you are willing that they should judge what is best for themselves, and you attempt no inter- ference with their plans for enjoyment? In a word, let it be your grand object to drink as deeply at the fountain of worldly pleasure, as you can ; and as the hours of this golden season whirl off, let there be no inquiry agitated in your breast more gloomy than 96 DANGEROF how you shall crowd into each hour the largest amount of careless gayety or sensual indulgence." But, my young friends, I dare not proceed farther in this strain of irony, which is suggested by my text, lest some of you should forget that it is irony, and should begin to think that you have found an advocate for your youthful vanities. I pass, there- fore, immediately to the other part of the subject, in which I am to enforce the awful warning contained in the closing part of the text. " But know thou, that for all these things, God will bring thee into judgment." What an awful contrast is here pre- sented to the language of the libertine, to which we have just been attending ! Reflect on the certainty of your being brought into judgment. " Know thou," says the wise man ; that is, " be assured that the fact of which I speak shall take place, without the possibility of failure." God has not left himself without witness on this subject, either in the constitution of our nature, or in the dispensations of his providence. The doctrine of a future judgment is written more or less legibly on the conscience of every man ; else, how will you ac- count for that painful restlessness which attends the remembrance of crimes long since committed, and the record of which is kept only in the perpetrator's own bosom ? Moreover, the unequal distribution of rewards and punishments in the present life, in con- nection with the immutable justice of God, seems to constitute a ground of necessity for a future retribu- tion ; for in what other way shall the divine charac- ter be vindicated from the charge of partiality ? But if reason has not spoken with sufficient distinctness A LIFE OF PLEASURE. 97 on this subject, you cannot say that of the lively oracles; for here the doctrine stands written with God's own finger in letters of light. The text is de- cisive on this subject: — "For all these things, God will bring thee into judgment." And again; "God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil." And again : " We must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad." The evidence that you are to be brought into judg- ment, then, is complete. Whether you take counsel of reason, or hold communion with conscience, or open the volume of God's truth, this evidence glares upon you. Forget it you may ; trifle with it you may ; but the awful fact you cannot change. I charge you, then, to remember, wherever you go, or whatever you do, that there is a tremendous reckon- ing before you. Go, if you dare, into the haunts of irreligious mirth, and hear God's name profaned, and join in heaping scandal upon the cross ; go and hear the scoffer ask, " Where is the promise of his coming?" and let your heart overflow with sensual joy : but remember that other scenes await you ; re- member that it has gone out of the mouth of Him who is " the same yesterday, to-day, and forever," that you are yet to be brought into judgment. Contemplate the purpose for which you are to be brought into judgment: — "For all these things," says the wise man ; that is, the things specified in the preceding part of the verse — giving yourself up to a life of vanity and pleasure. You will be brought 9 98 DANGEROF into judgment for the waste of your time ; for every hour and moment which shall have been devoted to other purposes than those for which your time was given you. You will be brought into judgment for all your profane and idle discourse, which was fitted at once to afiront your Maker, and to pollute your own mind, and close it against serious reflection. You will be brought into judgment for every scene of vain amusement ; for every meeting for sensual excess ; for every effort to stifle conscience and for- get God. You will be brought into judgment for all that you have done in corrupting others ; for the deadly poison which has distilled from your lips, and from your example, operating like the blast of death, wherever it has been communicated ; for that fearful amount of sin and wretchedness which will have re- sulted from the accumulating influence of your life on many successive generations. In a word, for all that belongs to a life of pleasure, whether it respect action or enjoyment, its more immediate or more re- mote influences, you will be brought into judgment. How diflerently will a life of sinful pleasure ap- pear to you, when you come to view it in the light of the judgment, from what it does now, while your heart cheers you in the days of your youth ! What you here plead for as innocent, will then be seen to have involved crimson guilt. What you here regard as fraught with no danger, will there be felt to have contained the elements of a heavy curse. What you here treat with levity as though it were a dream or a fable, will there gather all the importance that belongs to an appalling reality. How will your heart sicken, and your spirit die within you, Avhen A LIFE OF PLEASURE. 99 the light of eternity reveals your mistake in respect to the object of the present life ! With what emo- tions will you realize that the period which you have spent in trifling, was the only period given you to escape hell and to obtain heaven ! Consider, farther, hy whom you are to be brought into judgment. The text asserts that " God will bring thee into judgment ;" — God, from whom came all the blessings which you have perverted to pur- poses of sinful pleasure ; and against whom every sin that you have committed has been an act of re- bellion : — God, whose heart-searching eye has al- ways been intent upon you, noticing the birth, and progress, and accomplishment, of every sinful pur- pose ; who has been with you when you supposed yourself alone ; and who has kept an exact record of all that you have thought, and spoken, and done, from the first moment of your existence: — God, who, though long-suffering and gracious, is yet just and holy, and will by no means clear the guilty ; who has all the means of punishment in the universe at his command, and can execute with infinite ease the penalty which his righteous authority ordains. And is this the great and awful Being, who is to bring you into judgment? Say, whether it will not be a fearful thing to fall into the hands of such a Judge ? Were your final retribution to be decided by a mere man, or a mere creature, you might suppose it possible that you should escape the woes which hang over your eternal destiny. You might hope some- thing from his limited knowledge. Possibly he might not be acquainted with all your transgressions in all their aggravating circumstances ; or he might form 100 DANGEROF too low an estimate of the punishment which you deserve on account of them. Or you might hope something from his limited power. You might ima- gine that by some combination of energy or influence which could be formed, you might either resist the mandate which should summon you to judgment, or prevent the execution of the final sentence. Or you might presume upon the triumph of mercy over justice. You might hope that some appeal could be made to the heart of the Judge, which should lead him at least to abate the severity of your doom ; even though such mitigation should tarnish his cha- racter, and weaken his government. But surely you can form no such imaginations in respect to the infi- nite God. You cannot hope to evade the scrutiny of his eye, or to resist the might of his arm, or to awaken a blind and indiscriminate compassion in his heart. What though you may be courageous on every other occasion, yet can your heart endure, or your hands be strong, when you shall stand before the throne of Almighty power, beneath the searching look of Omniscience, to receive a just recompense for a life wasted in sinful pleasure ? Meditate on the time of your being brought into judgment. It would seem that the day of judgment, appropriately so called — the day which is to make a full revelation of the secrets of every heart, and to pour the light of a complete vindication over the character of God — is yet comparatively distant. There are purposes to be accomplished in the scheme of providence, preparatory to that august occasion, which may require the lapse of ages. Nevertheless, there is an important sense in which it may be said A LIFE OF PLEASURE. 101 that the judgment is near. The world into which the soul passes at death, is a world of retribution. Whatever means God intends ever to employ to bring the sinner to repentance have been employed pre- vious to that period : the first gleam of light from the eternal world reveals to the soul its destiny, which, though not yet published to the universe, is fixed by a decree which the whole creation could not change ; and whatever the soul experiences, whether of joy or of wo, subsequently to that period, belongs to its everlasting retribution ? Dream not, then, my young friend, that the period of your being brought into judgment is remote. Will you presume upon youth as a security against it ? So did that young man, who, the other day, was hurried into eternity, in the fulness of youthful vigor, and the bloom of youthful hope. Will you presume upon health as a security against it ? Go, then, and read a lesson from yonder tomb-stone ; and there you will find that a protracted sickness, and a lingering death-scene, are not the necessary accompaniments of dissolution : you will find that death may over- take you, while your hands are strung with vigor ; and that your passage through the dark valley may be the passage of a moment. Or do you presume on promising worldly prospects? I could point you to many a father who would tell you weeping, that he once had a son whose prospects were, in every respect, as bright as yours ;. but that death had marked him as his victim, and he had sunk into an early grave. Where, then, I ask, is your security against being early brought into judgment? When you go into a scene of amusement, how do you 9* 102 DANGEROF know but that the summons may meet you there ? When you mingle in the midnight revel, can you be certain that you are not passing the last hour of your probation ? When you lay your head upon your pillow, without lifting your heart to God, who has given you the assurance that that is not the night in which your soul is to be required of you ; that a voice from eternity may not break upon your ear amidst the stillness of midnight, calling you to judg- ment? But be it so that you should fill up three- score years and ten, it would still remain true that you are on the threshold of the judgment. That period — long as it may now seem to you — is but as a hand's breadth ; while you are dreaming of its continuance, it will be spent, and your spirit will be rushing; forth to meet its God. And is it so, that the judgment is not only a reality, but that its amazing scenes are so soon to burst upon you ? Tell me, then, O immortal soul, what account you are prepared to render of that wasted, perverted li^e, when you enter the invisible world, and stand before the dread tribunal ? Contemplate, moreover, the circumstances of your being brought into judgment. If you consider this expression as referring to the removal of the soul by death to a state of retribution, then the circum- stances of this event must, in a great measure, remain concealed, till they are disclosed to you in experience. In respect to some of them, however, you may form at least a probable opinion. By the power of a burning fever, or the gradual inroads of consump- tion, or perhaps by some more mysterious form of disease, you may expect ere long to be laid upon the bed of death. It may be that, in that awful hour, A LIFE OF PLEASURE. 103 you may be given up to delirium or insensibility, and may close your eyes upon the objects of sense with- out knowing where you are, or through what scenes you are passing. Or it may be that your rational powers will be active and bright, so that you will be conscious of all that happens to you in your passage through the dark valley. You may see around you beloved friends, who will alternately fasten upon you a look of mingled affection and agony, and turn away to smother the sobs which rise from a bursting heart. You may be sensible that the cold damps of death are already hanging upon your countenance ; that the vital current is performing its last passage through your heart ; that you are undergoing the convulsive struggle which is to dislodge the spirit from its clayey tabernacle. And supposing that your life has been devoted to sinful pleasure, how proba- ble it is that conscience will pour its accusations into your ears, and tell you of an ofiended Judge, and of coming wrath, and of interminable wo ! How pro- bable that the ghosts of wasted hours, and days, and years, will come up in frightful succession before you, as ministers of wrath, when you need so much to be attended byangels of consolation! Amidst some such assemblage of gloomy circumstances as I have now supposed, you may expect that your spirit will take its flight for the eternal world. And while your body is dressing for the grave, that spirit will be mingling in scenes of new and awful interest ; and though it will have done with the agony attendant on the dis- solution of the body, it will be convulsed by an agony far more dreadful — the beginning of a never- dying death. Oh what a moment will that be, when 104 DANGEROF you shall first know by experience the misery of the lost! But if you consider the text as referring immedi- ately to the great day of final decision, the circum- stances which will attend your being brought into judgment, will be of a far difi!erent character from those which we have just described ; and while, in the former case, we learn them principally from observation, in the latter, we derive our knowledge solely from the oracles of God. At the hour next previous to that in which the immediate preparation for the judgment shall commence, your body, dis- solved into its original elements, will be slumbering with its kindred dust; and your spirit will be ming- ling with other lost spirits in the region of despair. Suddenly the skies will send forth a sound — it will be a blast of the trump of God, which will echo from one end of the earth to the other, bursting open the doors of every sepulchre, breaking up the slum- bers of all their inhabitants, and re-collecting from the earth, the ocean, the air, the scattered dust of every child of Adam that shall have died since the creation. The union between body and spirit is restored — the same body that was laid in the dust, rises up to meet the same spirit which had animated it. The Judge descends from heaven, in the glory of his Father, and with all his holy angels ; and around his throne are assembled all nations, and kindreds, and tongues, and people. The righteous are placed in open, distinguished honor, at his right hand ; the wicked as a public proof of his indigna- tion against their character, are summoned to the left. In this latter class, you, who have been devoted A LIFE OF PLEASURE. 105 to sinful pleasure, will be found. There you will be obliged to contemplate the picture of your life, drawn only in black, without one bright stroke to relieve the eye from a uniform and sickening gloom. There you will be obliged, with all others who have been *' lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God," to hear the appalling sentence, " Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." Oh, when that piercing sound shall enter into your ear, will it not rend your heart with agony, and open your lips in wailing 1 For " who can stand before his indignation ? And who can abide in the fierce- ness of his anger?" Meditate, finally, on the consequences of your being brought into judgment. The consequence of your being summoned by death into a world of retri- bution, will be an entire separation from all the ob- jects of sense, from all the means of grace, from all the hopes of salvation. You will remember, indeed, how you once mingled in scenes of unhallowed mirth and revelry ; but with the remembrance of these scenes will be associated the reflection that they have gone by for ever ; while the effect of them remains to be felt in an interminable scene of anguish. You will think of sabbaths given you to prepare for heaven, but perverted to purposes of mere amuse- ment : of invitations and warnings a thousand times pressed upon you, but as often treated with indiffer- ence or contempt; of friends who had come with the tenderest concern to speak to you of the things that belonged to your peace, but who returned to their closets mourning that they could gain no access to your heart. But you will be obliged also 106 D A N G E R O F to reflect that there are no more sabbaths for you ; that the last invitation of mercy, the last warning to repent, has died away upon your ear ; that no Chris- tian friend can come where you are, to unburden a full heart in prayers, and tears, and expostulations, for the salvation of your soul. You may remenber too, how, in all your mad pursuit of pleasure, you still clung to the hope of future repentance : but the delusion is broken up : even the atoning blood of Jesus can now no longer reach you. And while you are an exile from all the good, real or imaginary, which you once enjoyed, you will be subject to the corrosion of a guilty conscience, will be a companion of fiends and reprobates, and as you look forward into eternity, will see one wo rising after another, like the billows of the ocean, in a train that will never end. The consequence of your being brought before the last tribunal, and of receiving a formal and final sen- tence from the lips of the Judge, will be still more tremendous. At the close of this awful transaction, you will behold, with a bewildered look of agony, all above, beneath, around, vaulted with the funeral fires of this great world; and when amidst this final wreck of nature, you look out for a refuge from the fiery storm, no refuge in the universe will be open for you, except that dungeon of wo in which the wrath of God is to have its perpetual operation. Into that prison of the universe, that grave of lost but living souls, you will immediately enter ; and there, in the hopelessness of unavailing anguish — there, amidst the curses and wailings of the lost — there, where the eye can fasten upon no object which A LIFE OF PLEASURE. 107 the wrath of God has not fastened before it, you must run the dreary round of everlasting ages. The sentence was, " Depart, ye cursed, into everlast- ing fire." And is it so, that this prison is built for eternity ; — that these flames are kindled for eternity ; — that these bolts, and bars, and chains, bespeak an eternal residence in these vaults of despair ? Will not some messenger come hither from yonder bliss- ful regions, though it be ten thousand millions of ages hence, to tell thee that this long night of sufier- ing will yet be succeeded by a morning of peace and joy? No, sinner, there are no such tidings in store for thee; thou wert sentenced there for a period as unlimited as the duration of God, and thy sentence is irreversible. I inquire now of the conscience of every youth present, who is devoted to sinful pleasure, whether these meditations upon the judgment do not throw an aspect of terror over the course which he is pur- suing ; and whether he dare persist any longer in a course which must so certainly lead to such a tre- mendous result ? If this life of vanity and pleasure had no connection with eternity, or if it were itself to be eternal, however pitiful a portion you might find in it, we might consent, with less reluctance, to leave you to your wretched choice ; but connected as it is with a course of illimitable and unutterable sufi^'ering, wonder not that we call upon you with pressing importunity to abandon it. Do you ask whether you must abandon all the amusements of the world? I answer — Abandon all upon which you dare not ask the blessing of God ; — all which crowd out of your thoughts the realities of eternity ; 108 DANGEROF — all which you are unwilling to think of in con- nection with the prospect of dying — all for which you would dread that God should bring you into judgment. Do you ask, again, what those amuse- ments are in which you may safely indulge, while you are yet unreconciled to God ? I reply, by ask- ing what amusement you would choose if you were just ready to be enveloped in the flames of a burning house ; or if you were under sentence of death, and had but one hour more, before you should ascend the scaffold ? Do you spurn at the suggestion of trifling in circumstances like these ? Then say not that we are superstitious when we tell you that you have no time to waste in amusement, while yet your whole work for eternity is before you, and for aught you can tell, each passing hour may be your last. Do you plead for a single indulgence ? Do you say, let me go into one more scene of vain recreation, and cheer my heart once more in these days of my youth, and then I will abandon the vanities of the world for ever? My young friend, the very resolution is a cheat : but even if it were not, who has told you that that one scene of recreation may not occupy the whole period given you to prepare for eternity ; and that you are not subjected to the alternative of turn- ing your back upon it, or of certainly losing heaven? Is it rational — rather is it not the height of madness, to waste a single moment, while you are suspended between an eternal heaven and an eternal hell ? I leave this solemn subject, beloved youth, with your consciences. I entreat you to make a serious and practical application of it. I pray the God of all grace to bring it seasonably to your remembrance, A LIFE OF PLEASURE. 109 and give it its legitimate influence over your feelings and conduct But if all which has been said shall appear to you as an idle tale ; if, after having been warned of the solemnities of the judgment, you are prepared to rush back to a course of sinful pleasure, then I must leave you with the same awful irony, and the same solemn admonition, with which I began this discourse. "Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and Avalk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes ; but know thou, that for all these things, God will bring thee into judgment," 10 LECTURE V, REGARD TO THE FAVOR OF THE WORLD CONTRASTED WITPI A REGARD TO THE FAVOR OF GOD. 1st THESSALONIANS, 11, 4. Not as pleasing men, but God. The church to which this epistle was addressed, is- supposed to have been planted by Paul and Silas, soon after the outrages committed upon them at Philippi, and recorded in the sixteenth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. In the verses immediately preceding the text, the apostle alludes to the signal success which attended his first labors among the Thessalonians; and notices, as an occasion of re- joicing, the fact that he and his companion in labor — notwithstanding the shameful treatment they had just met in a neighboring city, and the obstacles which they still had to encounter — were enabled, in the strength of divine grace, to preach the gospel Avith boldness and fidelity. And what chiefly encouraged them to these courageous efforts, was the reflection that they had no mercenary purposes to answer : and that there was nothing in their management in respect to which they need shrink from the strictest scrutiny ; but all was open and honest ; " not as pleasing men," or as consulting the tastes and pre- REGARD TO THE FAVOR OF THE WORLD. 11\ judices of the world, "but" as endeavoring to secure the approbation of " God, which trieth our hearts." The text, you perceive, has a primary reference to ministers of the gospel. And surely, if there be a class of men, in respect to whom it is pre-eminently important that they should act under the influence of the principle which the apostle here recognises, ministers of the gospel constitute that class. But it is important that all others should be governed by this principle, as well as ministers. It is especially important that its influence should be felt by persons in the morning of life ; because that is the period in Avhich habits are formed, which, in most instances, constitute the elements of future character. When the apostle, in our text, institutes an appa- rent opposition between pleasing men and pleasing God, we are not to suppose that he intends to forbid every eflfort to please men ; for this would be incon- sistent, not only with many of his exhortations, but with his own conduct. '' Let every one of us," saith he, " please his neighbor for his good to edification." And again : " I am made all things to all men, that I might, by all means, save some." The gospel not only allows, but requires, that we should seek the favorable regards of our fellow-men, especially, as a means of our own usefulness ; and the course of conduct which it prescribes, is exactly fitted to such a result. Hence it has been said, with much truth and force, that the gospel contains the most perfect system of politeness which the world has seen. The apostle, in our text, intends only to contrast a supreme regard to the approbation of the world, and a supreme regard to the approbation of God, as 112 REGARDTOTHE governing principles of action ; and to imply that they are perfectly incompatible with each other. My purpose, in this discourse, is to illustrate AND CONTRAST THE INFLUENCE OF THESE TWO DIS- POSITIONS, I. Upon human character ; IL Upon human happiness. I. Upon human character. 1. I remark, in the first place, that it is the ten- dency of a supreme regard to the approbation of the world, to produce a fickle character ; of a supreme regard to the approbation of God, a stable one. Who that has any knowledge of the world, needs to be told that its maxims, principles, conduct, are constantly changing? What, at one period, is ad- mired as elegant or praiseworthy, soon comes to be regarded with indifference, and perhaps ultimately sinks into contempt ; and on the other hand, what» at one time, is considered mean or worthless, gra- dually rises into respectability, and it may be, at length, becomes an object of admiration. For a com- plete illustration of this remark, you need only look into the walks of what is commonly called fashion- able life ; and you will see one fashion after another, in respect to manners, dress, equipage, and many other things, succeeding so rapidly, that even the devotees of fashion themselves are scarcely able to do homage to every new idol. Here you have a fair specimen of the fluctuation of human opinion. If then you make human opinion the standard of FAVOR OF THE WORLD. 113 your conduct, and that standard is constantly varying, your conduct must of course exhibit a corresponding course of changes ; and here is the foundation of a fickle character. On the other hand, the person who seeks supremely the approbation of God, has a fixed standard of ac- tion. The law of God is his rule of duty; and that law, like its author, is " the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." He may indeed sometimes be em- barrassed, in respect to particular cases, to know what this law requires and what it forbids ; but, in general, it marks out for him a plain path. Hence he acts not only in conformity to a fixed standard, but generally without hesitation ; and in this way he cannot fail to acquire and to exhibit stability of character. 2. It is the tendency of a supreme regard to the approbation of the world, to produce a timid charac- ter ; of a supreme regard to the approbation of God, a courageous one. The devotee of the world's favor has no easy task to perform. He well knows that he must shape his conduct to suit different and opposite dispositions ; that in securing the approbation of one, he is liable to lose that of another ; and that the means which may seem to him best adapted to gain favor, may prove to be fraught with injury or disgrace.. Be- sides, he has, sometimes, at least, a secret conviction that the course which he is pursuing is wrong ; and that his Maker and Judge is offended that the supreme ho- mage of his heart should be withheld from Him. Here, then, is a double influence exerted to produce 10* 114 REGARDTOTHE a timid character. On the one hand, he fears that he shall not gain the object which he is seeking : on the other, he fears that, if he does gain it, it will be at the expense of what is infinitely more valuable. Is it not obvious that a character formed under such an influence, will be likely to bear a strong impres- sion of timidity ? But in seeking supremely the favor of God, there is every thing to inspire true courage. There is the certainty of success, which is always favorable to bold and vigorous action. There is the reflection, that he whose approbation we seek, is All-gracious and Almighty ; and that let the world do by us as it may, his favor is a suflicient portion. There is more- over the consideration that the course which we are pursuing is in itself the right course ; the course which reason, conscience, the Bible, all prescribe. Who that acts under the influence of considerations like these, can fail to act with unyielding resolution ? 3. It is the tendency of a supreme regard to the approbation of the world, to produce a hypocritical character ; of a supreme regard to the approbation of God, an honest one. I have already remarked that, owing to the difi*er> ent tastes and dispositions of men, it will often hap- pen that that course of conduct which will gain the approbation of one, will forfeit that of another ; and hence he whose governing object is to please the world, will endeavor to appear to each one in such a character as he supposes will be most likely to secure regard ; and to conceal from each one what- ever he thinks will serve to excite displeasure. If FAVOR OF THE WORLD. II5 he happens to fall in with one who is a warm advo- cate of any particular measure, the desire of popu- larity will naturally lead him to appear as an advo- cate of it also ; or if he happens to be in the company of another by whom the same measure is opposed, the same desire will operate to induce him, if not to join in opposition to the measure, at least, to say nothing in its favor. In this way he contracts the habit of dissimulation ; and his whole intercourse becomes a system of studied concealment. But on the other hand, he Avho is governed by a supreme regard to the favor of God, has no motive to depart from the path of open and honest dealing. If he were to do this, he would instantly defeat his object ; for not the approbation, but the frown, of Jehovah, attends all insincerity. Moreover, the course which he is pursuing, neither involves guilt nor awakens shame : there is therefore no reason why he should attempt to conceal his conduct from his fellow-men, or why he should desire to conceal it from his Maker. Hence his character bears upon it the impression of truth and honesty. 4. It is the tendency of a supreme regard to the approbation of the world to produce an inconsistent character ; of a supreme regard to the approbation ■of God, a consistent one. As he who is governed by a supreme regard to the favor of the world has no fixed rule of action, but is blown hither and thither by the breath of popu- lar opinion, the different parts of his conduct must, of course, be inconsistent with each other. As the opinions of different individuals whom he wishes to 116 REGARDTOTHE please, are at variance, there must be a correspond- mg variance between the course of conduct which he adopts in different cases, in order to gain his object; and hence his life is a perpetual scene of contradic- tions. And if he happens to be a professor of reli- gion, he is chargeable with double inconsistency ; for not only are the different parts of his conduct in- consistent with each other, but his deportment as a whole, is utterly inconsistent with his profession ; for in his profession is implied an engagement to make the will of God, and not the opinions of men, the rule of his conduct. Most of the inconsistency that attaches itself to the characters of professed Christians, and I may add — of all others, results, no doubt, from an improper desire to please the world. But he who acts from a supreme regard to the ap- probation of God, cannot fail to exhibit a consistent character. The rule by which his conduct is govern- ed, requires that every duty should be done in its proper place ; and in adhering to this, his character, in its different parts, acquires a beautiful consistency and harmony, which it could acquire under no other influence. Such a person will not, on the one hand, neglect his retired duties — the duties of secret prayer, and reading the Scriptures, and self-communion, for the sake of being constantly engaged in public reli- gious exercises ; nor, on the other hand, will he ex- cuse himself from the more public services of religion, on the ground that he is regular in the duties of the closet. He will not substitute works for faith, nor faith for works, but will exhibit both in bright and beautiful combination. He whose favor he seeks, requires that he should cultivate all the virtues and FAVOR OF THE WORLD. H7 graces of the Christian ; and if he fail in respect to any, he so far incurs the divine displeasure. Hence his character is consistent with itself; and if he be a professed follower of Christ, it is consistent with his profession. Once more : It is the tendency of a supreme regard to the approbation of the world to produce an unholy character ; of a supreme regard to the approbation of God, a holy one. It is the decision of inspiration, that " the whole world lieth in wickedness ;" and what the Bible teaches on this subject, observation abundantly con- firms. It is only necessary to look abroad into the world, to be satisfied that the maxims, the feelings, the practices, that generally prevailed in it, are directly opposed to the spiritual and holy requisitions of God's work. He, therefore, who makes the ap- probation of the world his supreme object, must ex- pect that his character will, in this respect also, take the stamp of the mould in which it is cast. More- over, the very object which he is seeking, considered as a supreme object, is unholy ; the means by which he endeavors to gain it, are also unholy ; and under such an influence, how can he form any other than an unholy character? It were a contradiction to suppose that a person should make the favor of the world his governing object, and not retain that carnal mind which is enmity against God. He, on the other hand, who seeks supremely the approbation of God, endeavors to be conformed to a standard of perfect holiness. He can gain the divine approbation only by yielding obedience to the law 118 REGARDTOTHE which God has given him as the rule of his conduct ; and that law is perfectly holy. In endeavoring to obey its requisitions, he comes under a sanctifying influence ; he is brought immediately into the atmo- sphere of moral purity. And the more earnestly he seeks the divine approbation, by seeking conformity to the divine law, the more his character becomes assimilated to that of the infinitely holy God. II. Such is the influence which the two principles brought to view in our text exert upon human cha- racter. I am now, secondly, to illustrate the influ- ence of the same principles on human happiness. And if the eflect on character be as has been repre- sented, it would seem that little need be said to illus- trate the effect on happiness ; for it admits of no question, on the one hand, that a stable, courageous, honest, consistent, and holy character, is favorable to happiness ; nor, on the other, that a fickle, timid, hypocritical, inconsistent, and unholy character, has within itself the elements of misery, But as this is a point of great importance, I shall illustrate it by several distinct particulars. 1 . The person who seeks supremely the favor of the world, has no assurance that he shall gain it ; he who seeks supremely the favor of God, has certain evidence that his efforts will he successful. In order to estimate the difficulty of gaining the favor of the world, consider, for a moment, how dif- ficult it often is to gain the favor of an individual. Not unfrequently, the efforts to accomplish this ob- ject fail from the want of a proper knowledge of the FAVOR OF THE WORLD. l\9 disposition to be consulted ; or from their being made at an unpropitious moment; or from suspicion being* excited that they have originated in some selfish purpose. Hence it has often happened that the very means which have been used to secure favor, have resulted in producing displeasure or disgust And if it is often so difficult to gain the favor even of an individual, how much greater the task to gain that of many ; and how much greater still, that of the world ; or of that part of it with which we have intercourse. As the number of individuals, and of course the va- riety of dispositions which we have to consult in our conduct, increases, the greater the probability that interfering claims will be made upon us which we shall not be able to meet, and that in gaining the favor of some, we shall provoke the jealousy of others. Thus, you perceive that, if you make the approbation of the world your supreme object, you can never be certain of gaining it ; at least in any considerable degree. Admitting that it were ever so valuable, when attained, you may, for ought you can tell, spend your days in seeking it, and die with- out having ever gained your object. But he who seeks supremely the favor of God, has an assurance that his efforts shall not be in vain. This assurance results from the declarations of God, and from the experience of men. Jehovah, speaking under the name of Wisdom, says, " I love them that love me, and they that seek me early shall find me." And again, our Saviour says, " He that hath my com- mandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me : and he that loveth me, shall be loved of my Father; and I will love him, and will manifest myself to him." 120 REGARDTOTHE And the testimony of experience corresponds with the declarations of God. Every person who has made the favor of God his supreme object, has attained it ; and in far the greater number of in- stances, the evidence of having attained it has been communicated in the light of God's countenance, and in the spirit of adoption. Every such instance con- veys an assurance that the favor of God may be gained by all who will seek it in a proper manner. Here, then, you perceive one important point of difference between the two objects brought to view in our text; — the difference between a certainty and an uncertainty. Even if the favor of God and the favor of the world, when actually gained, were equally valuable, as means of promoting happiness, yet you have no security that you can gain the one, while you have certain evidence that you may gain the other. Who, that is wise, would choose to spend his strength in pursuit of that which would probably elude his grasp, while his efforts might be directed towards another object, to say the least, of equal value, which was fairly within his reach ? 2. He who seeks supremely the favor of the world, if he gains it, has no security that he shall retain it : he who seeks supremely the favor of God, having once gained it, has an assurance that he shall retain it for ever. Who does not know, who has not felt, how unsta- ble are human friendships ? Who of us has not wit- nessed cases in which the most ardent friendships — friendships which seemed formed for life, have sud- denly given place to deep-rooted and bitter enmity : FAVOR OF THE WORLD. [21 and that too, it may be, from some circumstance of the most trifling nature? Who of us has not, at some time, been met with distant reserve, where he anticipated a cordial welcome ; or who has not been pained to observe indications of diminished regard, when he has been conscious of having done nothing to deserve it, and has been unable even to conjecture the occasion of the change? Nor are these facts difficult to be accounted for. There is a fickleness belonging to the human character, which goes far to- wards explaining it. Moreover, as you are yourself but an imperfect and sinful being, you are liable, from the impulse of passion, or the want of proper caution, to say and do some things which may wound the feelings of a friend, and ultimately produce a permanent alienation : or you may say and do other things with perfectly innocent intentions, which, yet, from being misunderstood, may produce the same unhappy effect: or some jealous rival, who wishes to supplant you in the affections of your friend, may, by his disingenuous efforts, accomplish the object. You perceive, then, that if the favor of the world were worth ever so much in itself, and were gained with ever so much ease, its value would be greatly abated by the consideration that you have no security that you shall retain it even for an hour. Must not the very enjoyment of it be embittered by the uncer- tainty of its continuance ; and what Avill you do, when it is actually gone, and has left you without any other resources ? Far otherwise is it with the favor of God. Gain that once, and you have gained it for eternity. The love which God bears for his people is called, in 11 122 REGARDTOTHE scripture, an "everlasting love." Our Saviour de- clares concerning them, " I give unto them eternal life ; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand." I do not mean that the Christian may not, by neglect of duty, lose in some measure, the evidences of the divine favor, and provoke God to a temporary withdrawment of the light of his countenance. But I mean that he who is once reconciled to God, has his name written in the Lamb's book of life ; and that name will never be blotted out : and even the temporary loss of di- vine consolation, he may and will, in a great measure at least, avoid, if he is faithful in the discharge of duty. Yes, I repeat, the favor of God, once gained, endureth forever. Principalities and powers may combine their efforts to wrest from the believer this possession, but it will still remain his. It is secured by the promise — the oath, of the ever-living Je- hovah. 3. He who seeks supremely the favor of the worlds even if he not only gains it, hut retains it till the close of life, does not, after all, find in it what he needs : he who seeks supremely the favor of God, finds in it every thing that he needs. Be it so, that so long as the days of prosperity last, the man who seeks supremely the favor of the world, finds in it a portion with which he is tolerably satis- fied ; — though I doubt not that even then the heart sometimes sickens over the meagreness of its enjoy- ments, and longs for something more substantial and satisfying : but let it not be forgotten, that in the calendar of human life are numbered many days of FAVOR OF THE WORLD. 123 affliction. There are days of pain, when the hand of disease rests upon us, with convulsive and ominous pressure. There are days of bereavement, when the light of friendship and hope goes out in our dwell- ings. Above all, there is the day of death, when this earthly tabernacle tumbles to ruins, and the spi- rit which has inhabited it takes its flight to other worlds. Weigh all the consolation to be derived from the favor of the world in either of these cases, and it will be lighter than vanity. Can the favor of the world make you forget the pains which convulse your system? Can the favor of the world cheer your desolate heart, when your dearest friend goes down to the grave ? Will any light break from the favor of the world upon the valley of death, to cheer your passage from time into eternity? On yonder dying bed lies a man, the grand object of whose life has been to gain the favor of the world : and now in this extremity of nature — this most fearful exi- gency of his existence — let the world be called upon to open its resources of consolation. Who now, of all the children of the world, shall go to that bed of death in the character of a comforter? Shall the votary of wealth go, and talk to that dying sinner of his splendid domains or numerous possessions? Shall the votary of pleasure go, and tell of some projected scene of amusement, where every heart will beat high with sensual joy? Shall the stout- hearted and impious opposer of religion go, and talk fearlessly about dying, and exhibit all the black infi- delity of his creed, and press the awful thought of annihilation? Who will not say that all this is but an insult to the agonies of death ; and that they who 124 REGARDTOTHE have professedly come on an errand of consolation, have only imparted an additional sharpness to the pang of dying ? Go back, ye miserable comforters ; this is not the place for you. Here are agonies to be relieved, which your presence only serves to heighten. This expiring sinner pants for something which it is not for you, or the world which you re- present, to bestow ; and because he has it not, he is stung by remorse, or overwhelmed with despair. Such are the world's resources of consolation in respect to the calamities which befal us while we re- main in it : And if it is so powerless to yield relief even here, what can it do for the soul when it shall have passed into the eternal world *? Think not that all the evils to which men are exposed, exist in the present life : the most fearful evils belong to the condition of the sinner in eternity. But when he has once passed the boundary of time, the world, if it had ever so many favors to bestow, can no longer reach him. The influence of what it has done is indeed felt, not in the mitigation, but in the aggravation of his doom ; but henceforth it can do nothing either to lessen or to increase his anguish. Oh, if the favor of the world could satisfy every desire in the present life, yet how poor a portion would it be, so long as it oflfers no provision for a future and eternal exist- ence ! Not so with the all-sufficient God. When the arrows of affliction pierce the heart, Jehovah con- descends to take up his residence in it, while it is yet bleeding and broken, as the Spirit of consolation. You may see what his Almighty grace can do, in that quiet and uncomplaining spirit which delights FAVOR OF THE WORLD. 125 to count up the mercies of God, on the bed of pain. You may see it in the cheerful submission with which the heart lets go the earthly objects and in- terests which it valued most ; in the serenity which settles upon the countenance, while the falling clods announce that a beloved friend will never rise from his dark bed till the morning of the resurrection. You may see it especially in the sublime actings of that faith, which often enables the soul to hold sweet communion with its Redeemer in the valley of death, and to celebrate, as it were, the fall of the earthly tabernacle with a shout of victory. And beyond the boundaries of time, when the soul wakes, conscious, active, immortal, and the world has no more than it can do, or even attempt to do, for the soul's comfort, there will flow out to it from the favor of God, bless- ings large as its desires — lasting as its existence. Tell me, ye votaries of the world's favor, what is it, when compared with the treasures of Almighty grace ? 4. He who seeks supremely the favor of the world, forfeits the peace of his conscience : he who seeks supremely the favor of God, secures the peace of his conscience. As there is an essential difference between virtue and vice, holiness and sin, so God has constituted us with the power of perceiving this difference ; and with the perception, has connected a corresponding feeling of approbation or disapprobation ; and in re- spect to our own conduct, of pleasure or pain. Now, that that course of conduct in which we seek supremely the favor of the world is a sinful course, 11+ 126 REGARDTOTHE admits of no question ; for surely it is the very- essence of sin to withhold the heart from God. He who adopts such a course, then, must necessarily fall under the lash of his own conscience. He may in- deed, for the most part, succeed in drowning her ac- cusations in the din of pleasure or the din of business ; but sometimes, at least, she will speak with an authority and an energy that will make him trem- ble ; and with such an accuser as this in his bosom, it matters little how many friends he may have in the world. Moreover, conscience sternly points him to a retribution : she spreads out before him his sins, as matter of record in the book of God's remem- brance, and as matter for trial on the judgment day : she anticipates the condemning sentence, and the final doom ; and asks with awful emphasis, " Who can dwell with everlasting burnings 1" The martyr on the rack, or in the flames, may be happy ; for he has conscience on his side : but not he who is at war with himself, though he may dwell in a palace, or sit upon a throne. He, on the other hand, who seeks supremely the favor of God, keeps a conscience, in a good degree, void of offence. The course of conduct which he must pursue in order to gain the divine approbation, is precisely that which conscience approves and pre- scribes. Hence, let his external circumstances be as they may, he has peace within — a peace that passeth understanding. And not only has he the delightful consciousness of doing right, but he can look upward to the throne of God, and recognise in the august Being who sits thereon, a forgiving Father ; he can look forward to the eternal world, and in the bright FAVOR OF THE WORLD. 127 glories of heaven can recognise his own future and everlasting portion. Say, ye who have known what it is to have a conscience burdened with guilt, and have afterwards known what it is to have that bur- den removed by the application of the peace-speak- ing blood of Christ; — say whether a good con- science — a pacified conscience, is not among the richest blessings to be enjoyed on this side heaven? 5. I observe in the last place, that he who seeks supremely the favor of God, is more likely to gain the favor of the world, than he who makes the favor of the world his chief object. It is a truth never to be forgotten, that men are constituted with an original sense of right and wrong ; and that nothing but an extreme degree of depravity can materially impair it. Hence it is not at the option of men whether they will respect virtue or not : they may indeed profess to despise it, and make it the theme of ridicule and insult ; but they cannot, unless by a long course of flagrant wicked- ness, extinguish that sentiment of reverence for it, which belongs to their nature. Does not the world respect stability, honesty, consistency, of character ? I hesitate not to make the appeal to the most fickle, dishonest, and inconsistent of the children of the world ; and whatever may be the testimony of their lips, I doubt not that their consciences will return an affirmative answer. In the exhibition of these traits of character, no doubt, there will be some things to which their feelings will be opposed ; but nothing which will not accord with their conviction of what is right, reasonable, and honorable. 128 REGARDTOTHE Moreover, in making the favor of God your supreme object, you necessarily adopt a course of conduct from which the world cannot fail to derive much advantage. You not only cautiously avoid doing them injury, but you aim, by every means in your power, to promote their best interests. Now I maintain that, as depraved as man is, he has too much of conscience, and I may say ordinarily too much of gratitude, to be able altogether to resist such an appeal. Show a man that you are his friend, by doing every thing you can for his benefit, and let this course be continued for a long time, and it must be a deeply rooted prejudice indeed, which will not yield to such an exhibition of kindness. " And who is he that will harm you," says the apostle, " if ye be followers of that which is good ?" But what appears so probable from the nature of the case, is abundantly confirmed by facts. Look abroad and decide for yourselves, who is the person to whom the world renders the most substantial tribute of respect. Is it not the man who is stable in all his purposes, and who has moral courage to carry them into effect ; who is honest in all his deal- ings, both before God and man ; whose conduct is consistent with itself, and consistent with his profes- sion ; and who maintains a close and holy walk with God? I dare appeal to any of you, my young friends, for an answer. Is it not manifest, then, both from reason and from fact, that they who seek supremely the favor of the world, mistake in respect to the best means of gaining it; and that it is the ordinance of God that it should be found of those of FAVOR OF THE WORLD. 129 whom it may be said comparatively that they seek it not? And now, my young friends, will not every one of you resolve, here on the threshold of life, that you will make the favor of God, and not the favor of the world, your grand object of pursuit ? Is it not evi- dent that the world is a hard master ; that while its favor is difficult to be gained, it is easy to be lost ; that all that it can do for its votaries, it does in sea- sons of prosperity, when they are least in need ; and that when the evil days come, it leaves them to strug- gle unassisted with calamity and death? Is it not manifest, on the other hand, that it is a most profit- able employment to seek the favor of God ? for his favor is not only easily gained, and when gained, is never lost, but it is life ; it meets all the exigencies of the soul in every period of its existence. Moreover, it keeps the soul at peace with itself; and saves it from the shudderings of guilt, and the forebodings of hell. And even the world itself renders its best tribute to the man who seeks supremely the favor of God. Be it your fixed purpose, then, in every step that you take, to endeavor to gain the divine approbation. In all the various parts of your deportment, in all your intercourse with the world, especially in the adoption of your religious sentiments, and the formation of your religious character, let the grand inquiry be, " What will please God who searcheth the heart?" Do this, and no matter whether the world smile, or whether the world frown ; for you can look inward to an ap- proving conscience, and upward to an approving God. LECTURE VI. RELIGION AN ALL-PERVADING PRINCIPLE. MATTHEW XIII, 8. But other fell into good ground, and brought forth fruit. One of the most fruitful sources of self-deception, especially among the young and inexperienced, is the disposition which prevails to take partial views of religion. There are those who make the whole of religion consist in a correct creed ; and expect to be saved by their faith, though it neither purifies the heart, nor controls the life. There are those whose religion is made up entirely of strong emotion ; who make the evidence of Christian character turn solely upon the point of powerful excitement ; regarding it as only a secondary concern, what they believe on the one hand, or how they live on the other. And there are others still, with whom the morality of the life is all in all ; who, while they refrain from open vice, and are honest in their dealings, and punctual to their engagements, and perhaps charitable to the poor, pronounce an attachment to the truths of the Bible, bigotry ; and the inward experience of the power of these truths, enthusiasm. Each of these classes has, at best, but a partial religion. They are all chargeable with separating things which God hath RELIGION AN ALL-PERVADING PRINCIPLE. 131 joined together ; and they despoil Christianity, not only of its beauty, but of its power. The parable from which our text is taken, is de- signed to illustrate the different influence which the gospel exerts upon different hearts, according to their preparation for receiving it. The text itself illus- trates the influence of the gospel on a heart that has been mellowed and prepared for its reception by divine grace. By the seed, we are to understand the word of God. By the good ground, an honest heart. By its bringing forth fruit, its substantial and visible effect in a course of external obedience. The plain import of the passage then is, that the word of God being cordially believed, or received through the un- derstanding into a good heart, becomes the principle of a holy life ; in other words, that religion is an ALL-PERVADING PRINCIPLE. In illustrating this sentiment, I observe, I. First, that Religion demands the homage of the intellect, and requires that the truth should be be- lieved. I am not about to plead the cause of those who will have it that perfect agreement in religious opinion is necessary to constitute the basis of mutual charity ; or that absolute freedom from theological error is essential to our acceptance with God : for if the former of these were true, the Christian brother- hood would either be completely dissolved, or would be reduced almost to nothing : if we were to admit the latter, it might well be asked, " Who then can be saved?" Nor is it any part of my design to agitate 132 religionan the delicate and difficult question, " What degree of religious error may be held in consistency with a claim to Christian character ?" For he that reflects at all must perceive that no general answer to this inquiry can be given ; for as men are to be judged according to the light which they enjoy, the same degree of error may be incomparably more danger- ous in some circumstances than in others. Without inquiring, therefore, what the leading truths of the gospel are, I am only concerned, at present, to show, that whatever they are, they are to be believed ; and that he who refuses his assent to them, cannot, in any proper sense of the word, be considered a Christian. For in the first place, I may ask, if it is not import- ant that the truths of the gospel should be believed, wherefore did God reveal them ? If you admit that God is a Being of infinite wisdom, you must also admit that his views of things are all perfectly right ; and that whatever He regards important, certainly is so. What, then, I ask, shall we infer from the fact of his having made a revelation, except that He judged it important that such a revelation should be made ? And if this be a legitimate inference even from the fact, is it not still more so from the circum- stances of the fact ; from the wonderful expense at which this revelation was given to the world, and the wonderful interest which has been manifested for its preservation ? Would Jehovah, think you, have raised up a succession of men, reaching through a period of many centuries, and anointed them with his own Spirit, that they might communicate his will without the possibility of error ; and would he have miraculously interposed by his providence, to pre- ALL-PERVADING PRINCIPLE. ]33 serve this inspired record amidst revolutions in which every human record has perished, if, after all, he regarded it as a matter of inconsiderable moment ? Has he not, then, by his providence, inscribed upon it his own estimate of its value ? But if Jehovah regards this revelation important, whence does it derive its importance in his estima- mation ? Doubtless from the fact that it is designed to be instrumental of promoting his glory in the salvation of men. But how can it subserve this ob- ject, unless you believe it, any more than a system of Pagan philosophy, which you have never taken the trouble to examine, or if you have, have thrown it by as bearing the stamp of absurdity or impos- ture ? In refusing your assent to the truths of the Bible, then, you set up your wisdom against that of the Eternal ; you virtually declare that the commu- nication of his will, made at an unparalleled expense, does not deserve your regard ; you close against it even the doors of your understanding ; and what greater affront than this can you offer to the Almighty Being who dictated it ? But you say, perhaps, that you believe the Bible^ and therefore these remarks are inapplicable to you. I answer, they are not inapplicable, provided you hold the maxim that it is no matter what a man believes in respect to its leading truths ; for if it is no matter what he believes, it is no matter Avhether he believes any thing. Talk not of your belief either in the authority or the doctrines of revelation, so long as you maintain that a rejection of either is innocent ; for reason herself is at no loss to answer the question whether that faith is of any value 12 134 RELIGIONAN which pronounces it innocent to contemn the au- thority of God, and slight his acknowledged com- munications. Let no one here, professing to admit the claims of the Bible to be a divine revelation, repeat the hack- neyed allegation against it, that its meaning is ob- scure ; and that where there is so much room for difference of opinion, it were rash to fix a limit to our charity. In respect to minor points of Christian doctrine, let the principle, if you will, be admitted ; but the moment you extend its application to the leading truths of the gospel, you virtually arraign Jehovah on the charge of trifling with his creatures. You bring against him the accusation of having pro- fessedly given a revelation to mankind — a revela- tion, too, which involves their destiny for eternity — and yet of having framed it in such a manner that it actually amounts to no revelation ; because its meaning is incapable of being satisfactorily ascer- tained. Nor can you escape from this fearful reflec- tion upon the Divine character by saying that this efl'ect is chargeable to the limited powers of the human mind ; because the author of it knew well the character of the beings for whom it was designed, and the same Being who made the mind, made the revelation ; and to say that he did not adapt the one to the other, would be nothing less than to charge him with a deficiency either of wisdom or goodness. I repeat, then, he who makes the obscurity of the Bible an apology for error in respect to any of its prominent doctrines, puts himself in the impious att'tude of God's accuser: he lifts his arm toward the eternal throne, and insolently asks, " Why doest thou so ?" ALL-PERVADING PRINCIPLE. 135 Another consideration which shows that a behef of the truth is an essential part of religion, is, that all good 'practice must have its foundation in good principles. I know indeed there may be that which to the eye of man shall appear to be good practice — there may be an external morality so correct as to defy the most rigid human scrutiny, and yet it may all be the operation of the merest selfishness — the homage which a heart in rebellion against God ren- ders to the good opinion of the world. But when we speak of good practice in connection with religion, we can mean nothing less by it than that which is good in the sight of God ; and as He searches the heart, surely no external actions can be good in his sight, except those which are prompted by good mo- tives — which are built upon good principles. Men adopt the same rule, so far as they can, in judging of each other ; that is, they estimate the character of actions by the supposed motives in which they originate ; though from the imperfection of their views, they are always liable to be deceived. But Jehovah can never call evil good, or good evil ; for every motive and principle of human conduct is perfectly open to his inspection. Now, what think you, in the view of God, must constitute the principles of action which he can ap- prove ? What, but the truths which he has revealed in his word? Are not the motives which they con- tain for pursuing the course of action which is here pointed out, not only the most rational, but the most weighty, which it is possible for the human mind to contemplate? But these truths can never become with you the principles of action, unless they are 136 RELIGIONAN believed; so that in the rejection or the neglect of them, you actually undermine the foundation of a good life, and render your claims to religious character as baseless as the fabric of a vision. Separate now from religion a belief in the great truths of the Bible, and see whether, in this new form, she does not seem to you maimed, and stripped of her glory. What is the religion of the heart, if the heart be not under the influence of divine truth? If it be any thing that has the semblance of religion, it is mere animal excitement. It is the fever of the soul — the fire of the passions, now breaking out furi- ously, and now dying away : it is a gust of enthu- siasm, which perhaps passes over in an hour, but is yet desolating as a whirlwind. It has in it nothing of uniformity or consistency; it yields no solid comfort; it prompts to no useful actions. It is, if I may be allowed the expression, a religion of accident; it rises and falls, it burns and expires, none can pre- dict when, and none can imagine why. And if such be the religion of the heart, where there is any experimental religion professed, apart from the operation of Christian principle, what will you say of the religion of the life? There may indeed be an occasional paroxysm of blind zeal; but in general you may expect to find a deplorable neglect of duty, as unlike the Christian life as the most opposite ele- ments are different from each other. But suppose it be otherwise, and the life be most scrupulously correct, and every external duty be performed with Pharisaical exactness, what is it, after all, but the body without the spirit ; a professed recognition of your obligations to obey God, while yet, at the same ALL-PERVADING PRINCIPLE. 137 time, you actually refuse to obey him ; for this you do, let your external deportment be what it may, so long- as you act from any other principles than those which he has prescribed for the regulation of your conduct. Suppose that a fellow-creature were to render you the most essential service, and to act towards you the part of the greatest benefactor ; but that you should afterwards know that in all his apparent efforts for your benefit, he had actually had no regard for you, but was aiming only at the accom- plishment of some selfish purpose ? Would not such a discovery materially change your opinion of his character, and annihilate every sentiment of obliga- tion towards him? Estimate, then, on the same prin- ciple, the character of that external obedience which is rendered to God, and which is sadly misnamed a good life, when it results not from a belief of God's truth, or from a regard to his authority, but from the operation of that spirit of selfishness which is but another name for rebellion. I appeal, finally, to the Bible itself, for direct proof that a belief of its doctrines enters essentially into the nature of religion. The apostle, in writing to the Hebrews, declares, that "without faith it is impossible to please God." John the Baptist, whose ministry was designed as a preparation for the estab- lishment of Christ's kingdom, exhorted those whom he addressed to "believe the gospel." Our Saviour himself has declared, " He that believeth, shall be saved ; but he that believeth not shall be damned." And again, " Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that heareth my word, and believeth on Him that sent me, hath everlasting life ; and he shall not come into 12+ 138 RELIGIONAN condemnation, but is passed from death unto life." If a belief of the truths of the gospel, then, be so important that God has thought proper to make it the subject of an express command ; if he has de- clared that it is essential to obtaining his favor, and has suspended upon it the possession of everlasting life, who will doubt that it enters essentially into the nature of true religion ? But you will say that the faith which the passages to which I have referred contemplate, is something more than a mere intellectual belief; that it includes the exercise of the affections. Be it so ; but it in- volves the assent of the understanding also, and cannot exist without it : for to suppose that any truth could influence the heart, from which the under- standing withheld its assent, were an absurdity. We are warranted, therefore, in applying to the faith of the intellect the passages which have been quoted, so far as to say, that without this faith (I here speak of those who enjoy the gospel) it is impossible to obtain the divine favor, or to secure eternal life. More than this is indeed necessary ; but without this, nothing else can be of any avail. Thus I have endeavored to show you that a belief of God's truth, an intellectual assent to the doctrines of the Bible, is an essential part of religion; — so essential that the maxim that it is no matter what a man believes, is perfectly at war with the genius of the gospel, and utterly unworthy the character of a Christian. But, II. Religion demands the homage of the heart, and requires that the truth should he felt. Though it ALL-PERVADING PRINCIPLE. 139 begins with the understanding, it does not end there: the understanding is only the door through which it makes its way to the heart. In illustration of this sentiment, I observe that all the great truths of revelation are directly calculated to call into exercise the affections. Is man suscepti- ble of fear ? If by fear be meant a holy reverence, what is better fitted to awaken this sentiment than the scriptural character of God? Or if we under- stand by it a dread of evil, what is better calculated to excite it than the fearful outline which the Bible has given us of the condition of the lost ? Is man susceptible of gratitude ? Where is to be found the record of so much condescension and love, of so much suffering voluntarily endured, and endured for enemies, as is exhibited in the word of God 1 Is man a creature of sorrow and of joy ? What better calculated to melt him into sorrow, than a contem- plation of the evil of sin, and of his own sins in par- ticular, especially when viewed in their connection with the cross of Christ ? And what can waken in his breast a thrill of joy, if it be not a view of the glories of the divine character, and the glories of re- demption, and the glories of immortality, as they are brought to view in the word of God? Is man susceptible of hope ? What object in the universe ought to be an object of desire, if it be not the incor- ruptible inheritance which is reserved in heaven for the faithful : and what more could be done to place it within his reach, and to make it a proper object of expectation and of effort, than the word of God as- sures us has actually been done? In short, I will venture to say, that there is not an emotion of the 140 RELIGIONAN soul, which it is right to indulge, which the truth of God, in some or other of its parts, is not fitted to awaken. Surely, then, the Author of our religion must have designed that it should be a religion for the affections, else its truths would not have been so adapted to call them into exercise. Again : Religion is designed to promote our hap- piness ; hut it can do this only as it influences the affections ; for happiness has its seat in the affec- tions. No exercise of the understanding can yield any enjoyment, apart from the influence which it ex- erts upon the feelings. It is possible that a mathe- matician may be enraptured in the contemplation of lines and angles ; but the enjoyment consists not in the abstract contemplation, but in the feeling of admiration and interest which is awakened by it. There is enjoyment in the operation of many of the affections of the soul — in hope, in love, in gratitude, in submission, yes, and even in godly sorrow ; but there is no enjoyment in the bare operation of the intellect, because the intellect is not the seat of en- joyment. If, then, religion will answer the great purpose which it proposes, that of making man happy, it must address itself to him as a creature of feeling ; and it must bring before him considerations which are fitted powerfully to affect his feelings ; and any religion which should not do this, would mistake the character of man, and would be alto- gether inadequate to the exigencies for which it was intended to provide. As we here assume the fact that our religion is of divine origin, and that it is intended to make men happy, and as all experience proves that happiness has its seat in the affections, ALL-PERVADING PRINCIPLE. 141 we are brought instantly to the conclusion that it claims the homage of the heart, not less than of the understanding ; and that he whose religion termi- nates in the intellect, has not a religion to render him happy. Moreover, let the word of God be brought to tes- tify to this point, and you will find that its testimony is equally decisive and abundant. I have already alluded to the fact that the faith which the gospel makes a condition of salvation, is not merely the faith of the understanding, but of the affections. Accordingly, when the eunuch inquired of Philip in regard to the propriety of his being baptized, the re- ply was, " If thou believest with all thine heart, thou mayest." Is the exercise of repentance also a con- dition of salvation ? But who does not know that repentance is chiefly a work for the afl?ections? Does the word of God require that we shoulu "i From these various sources, then, you may derive materials for religious contemplation ; and who will not say that here is enough to employ the mind in all the circumstances and periods of its existence ? One of the most important forms of the duty of which I am speaking is self-examination ; or medi- tating upon ourselves with a view to ascertain our own character and condition. You are to examine yourself in respect to your sins; the sins of your whole life ; the sins of particular periods, especially of each passing day ; the sins which most easily beset you ; and all the circumstances of aggravation, by which your sins have been attended. You are to examine yourself in respect to your spiritual wants ; to inquire in which of the Christian graces you are especially deficient ; through what avenue the world 25* 294 GROWTH IN GRACE. assails you most successfully; and, of course, at what point you need to be most strongly fortified. You are to examine yourself in respect to your evidences of Christian character : to inquire whether you have really the spirit of Christian obedience, and whether that spirit is daily gaining strength. This inquiry is to be conducted with great vigilance ; otherwise, the heart is so deceitful, that you will deceive your- self in the very attempt to avoid being deceived. It must be prosecuted with unyielding determination ; for the work is in itself so difficult, and, withal, the discoveries which must result from it so painful, that, without this spirit, it will inevitably be abandoned. You must refer your character to the scriptural standard ; to the law, if you would ascertain the ex- tent of your departure from duty ; to the gospel, if you would test your claim to the Christian character. And finally, in the spirit of humble dependence, let all your efforts be accompanied and crowned by the prayer — "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts ; and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way ever- lasting." The importance of self-examination, and of the more general duty of meditation, of which this is a part, as a means of growth in grace, it is not easy adequately to estimate. Meditation is necessary not only as a preparation for prayer, but as entering essentially into the nature of prayer ; nay, it is essential to every act of faith ; it is the exercise by M^hich the soul digests all the spiritual food which it receives. Moreover, it is of great importance, as tending to promote spiritual economy. How many GROWTH IN GRACE. 295 hours, and days, and years, of the Christian's life, are lost, and worse than lost, from the fact that his mind has not been disciplined to a habit of medita- tion. No inconsiderable part of your whole time is passed in solitude ; many of these hours, at least, might be redeemed by meditation, for purposes of religious improvement You may meditate not in the closet only, but in the field or the work-shop, in the lonely walk or the midnight hour ; you may meditate in circumstances in which you can do nothing else; and thus, by this sweet and silent exercise of the soul, you may keep yourself con- stantly under a sanctifying influence. In respect to the duty of private prayer, much of what might here naturally be said, has been antici- pated in another discourse. Let me only add, that your private addresses at a throne of grace should he, in a high degree, particular ; and should con- template even the most minute circumstances of your condition. In social and public prayer, our petitions are necessarily, in some degree, of a general character ; as they embrace wants which each indi- vidual has, in common with many others. But every Christian's experience has something in it peculiar; and not only so, but it is subject to constant varia- tion ; and it is in the devotions of the closet alone, that this variety of experience can be distinctly recognised. Endeavor, then, by previous medita- tion, to gain an accurate knowledge of your necessi- ties and sins, on the one hand, and a deep impression of the mercies which you have received, on the other; and by thus communing with your own heart, you will be prepared for close and particular communion 296 GROWTH IN GRACE. with God. In reviewing a given period, do you find that you have been betrayed into levity of conver- sation or deportment ; or that you have remained silent, where you ought to have dropped a word in behalf of the cause of Christ? Do you find that your thoughts have been wandering on forbidden objects ; or that you have yielded to the influence of some evil passion — have indulged in discontent, envy, pride, or revenge ; or that, from the want of vigilance, you have been overcome by some sudden temptation ? Let all this be a matter of distinct and solemn confession in your closet. Or have you re- ceived some signal manifestation of God's kindness in preserving you from temptation, or strengthening you for arduous duties, or imparting new vigor to your religious afllections, and thus brightening your hope of heaven? Let these, and all other private blessings, be a subject of devout thanksgiving in your closet. Or do you find that you have easily besetting sins ; or that duties await you, which must involve great self-denial ; or that temptations are about to throng upon you, which mere human reso- lution can never sucessfully oppose ? In the closet you are to seek for grace accommodated to these and all other exigencies of your spiritual condition. In short, here you are to unburden your whole soul with the confidence of a child. You have sins, and sorrows, and wants, which it might be neither desir- able nor proper that you should bring before the world : but there is not a sin of which you are guilty, which you are not encouraged here to con- fess : not a sorrow can agitate your breast, but you may venture here to tell it to a compassionate God : G R W T H IN G R A C E . 297 not a want can you feel, but you may here ask with confidence to have it supplied. Let the exercise of private prayer be conducted in the manner which has now been described, and it cannot fail to exert a powerful influence in making you holy. But in proportion as it becomes general — overlooking the more minute circumstances of your condition, it will degenerate into formality, and thus defeat the great end which it is designed to accomplish. Closely connected with private prayer, as a means of growth in grace, is reading the scriptures. " Sanctify them through thy truth," is part of the memorable prayer which our Lord offered in behalf of his disciples, a little before he left the world ; and the sentiment which it contains, has been veri- fied in the experience of every Christian from that hour down to the present. Not only is the word of God the incorruptible seed of the renewed nature, but it is that from which the spiritual principle de- rives its nourishment ; and accordingly we find that those who have attained the most commanding stature in piety, are those who have drawn most largely from this storehouse of spiritual bounty. But in order that you may realize the benefit which this exercise is adapted to secure, you must read the word of God with devout and earnest attention; for like the food which nourishes the body, it must be digested in order to its being a means of nourish- ment to the soul. You must regard it as the word God ; with the most reverent regard for its Author ; with a firm persuasion that it contains the words of eternal life ; and with a conscience lying open to the authority of Him who speaks in it. You must read 298 GROWTH IN GRACE. it as being- addressed particularly to yourself; must apply what you read for your personal instruction or admonition, as truly as if it had been spoken im- mediately to you by a voice from heaven. You must read it with a spirit of dependence on God, as the author of all holy illumination ; often sending up the prayer — " Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law." Read the Bible in this way, my young friends, and while new glories will constantly be unfolding to your delighted vision, as the stars thicken upon the eye at evening ; the principle of spiritual life will be continually growing more vigorous, and the evidence of your title to heaven more unquestionable. In connection with reading the scriptures, I may mention reading other hooks also, of a serious and practical nature. There are books which are de- signed immediately to illustrate the meaning, and to exhibit the harmony, of the scriptures. There are other books whose more immediate object is to pre- sent a detailed view of the doctrines of the Bible ; to show their connection with each other, and their practical bearings both upon God and man. And there are other books still, which are especially fitted to awaken and cherish a spirit of devotion ; to with- draw the soul from the influence of external objects, and to bring it to commune with spiritual and invisi- ble realities. Books of either of the kinds to which I have now referred, you may read with much ad- vantage; though you are always to recollect that, as the productions of uninspired men, they are to be tried by the law and the testimony. They are the GROWTH IN GRACE. 299 lesser lights in religion, which borrow all their lustre from the sun. It deserves here to be remarked, that the different private exercises of which I have spoken, are inti- mately connected, and are fitted to exert a mutually- favorable influence on each other. Meditation, while it composes the mind to a devotional frame, and brings before it subjects for prayer, applies the truths of God's Word as means of sanctification. Prayer not only leaves the soul in a state most favorable to meditation, but spreads over the sacred page an il- luminating and heavenly influence. Reading the Scriptures at once furnishes materials for meditation, and kindles the spirit, while it supplies the language, of prayer. Let these several duties, then, be joined together, so far as possible, in your daily practice; and while each will contribute to render the others more interesting and profitable, they will together exert a powerful influence in your Christian im- provement. 2. Another important means of growth in grace, is Christian intercourse. The utility of social inter- course has been felt in every department of know- ledge and action. He who desires to make distin- guished attainments in any thing, can scarcely fail highly to estimate the society of kindred minds en- gaged in a similar pursuit ; and accordingly we find that some of the most brilliant discoveries in science have resulted from the intercourse which great minds have had with each other. And as it is with other things, so is it with religion — hardly any thing can serve more effectually to invigorate our religious affections, or to heighten the interest with which we 300 GROWTH IN GRACE. regard the objects of faith, than a close and fraternal intercourse with Christian friends ; whereas, the neglect of such intercourse is at once a cause and a symptom of spiritual declension. That your intercourse with Christian friends may be profitable, let it he frequent. Every consideration which should induce you to cultivate this intercourse at all, should induce you to engage in it frequently : and besides, if religion is made the topic of con- versation only at distant intervals, the almost certain consequence will be that such conversation will never awaken much interest, or be prosecuted with much advantage ; whereas, by being frequently introduced, it can hardly fail, through the influence of habit, on the one hand, and an increased degree of religious feeling on the other, to become a most pleasant and edifying exercise. Let a few Christian friends ap- propriate an hour of each week to the interchange of pious sentiments and feelings, to compare with each other their spiritual progress, and to strengthen each other for their spiritual conflicts, and let this exercise be continued regularly and perseveringly, and you may expect that its influence will be felt in a rapid and vigorous growth of piety. The place of such a meeting will soon come to be regarded as a bethel ; and the hour consecrated to it will be hailed with devout joy and gratitude. But these are by no means the only seasons in which you should avail yourselves of this privilege. In the common and daily walks of life, there are occasions constantly occurring, on which you may take sweet counsel with your fellow-Christians. Why may not the friendly call, and the social interview, instead of be- GROWTH IN GRACE. 301 ing perverted to purposes of idle ceremony, be made subservient to spiritual improvement ? Is it not far more grateful to review an hour passed with a friend in conversing on tapics connected with Christian ex- perience, or with the kingdom of Christ, than one which you have frittered away in mere trifling inter- course, without having uttered a word worthy of your Christian character or Christian hopes? More- over, this intercourse should be more or less unre- served, according to circumstances. I would not, by any means, recommend an indiscriminate disclosure of your religious exercises : this would not only ap- pear to be, but there is reason to fear that it would actually be, the operation of spiritual pride ; than which, nothing can be more offensive either to God or man. As a general direction, I would say that, while you may profitably hold religious intercourse with all Christians, that of a more close and confi- dential kind should ordinarily be confined to intimate friends — those who will at once value and recipro- cate your Christian confidence. You are, by no means, of course, to decline religious conversation with a Christian friend, because there may be those present who are not interested in it : but you are so far to regard their presence, as to endeavor to give the conversation that direction which shall be most likely to minister to their profit, as well as your own. And finally, I would say that all your religious in- tercourse ought, so far as possible, to be accompanied or followed by prayer. This will serve at once to strengthen the tie that binds your hearts together, to give additional interest to your intercourse, and to draw down upon it the blessing of God. Is it not 2G 302 GROWTH IN GRACE. the melancholy fact that this most delightful duty is often neglected, in the circumstances of which I speak, because it is considered a matter of delicacy? God forbid, my young friends, that you should ever, for a moment, yield to such a sentiment ! Surely that is not only false but criminal delicacy, which, by forbidding you to kneel down with a companion in the Christian life at the throne of mercy, would intercept some of the richest blessings of God's grace. 3. I notice as another of the means of growth in grace, the observance of the sabbath, in connection with public worship. On this subject, it must be acknowledged that there prevails extensively a lamentable deficiency in Christian practice. I refer not here to those who openly outrage holy time, by perverting it to worldly business or amusement ; they, of course, cut themselves off from every claim to Christian character ; but I refer rather to those, who, professing to sanctify the sabbath, yet adopt a low standard of duty, and take little pains to ex- clude the world either from their thoughts or con- versation. That you may avoid this evil, and secure the benefit to be derived from a proper observance of holy time, attend to the following directions. Make it an object religiously to observe the whole sabbath. I do not here attempt to decide the ques- tion at what time the sabbath commences : I only insist that your practice on this subject should be consistent with your principles. Whenever you be- lieve the sabbath begins, then begin to observe it ; and remember that it is just as criminal to devote the first half to secular purposes, as any other part of GROWTH IN GRACE. 303 the day. Let all your worldly concerns be arranged to meet the earliest demands of holy time ; that thus you may avoid the wretched practice of suflering the secular business of the week to crowd upon the sacred duties of the sabbath. Be equally careful, on the other hand, that you do not curtail this sacred day, by suffering your spirituality gradually to decline with the sun. I urge this counsel upon you the rather, from the fact that the error to which I refer so extensively prevails, that you will be in danger of falling into it almost unconsciously. Remember that He who has fixed the stamp of His authority on the sabbath, has left the impress of holiness equally on all its hours. Remember that if you begin the sab- bath too late, or close it too early, you are, in either case, guilty of robbing God. I would say, in the next place, keep the day strictly holy. With the low standards of the world on this subject, have nothing to do ; remembering that the command of Jehovah is resting upon you, that you should not think your own thoughts, or find your own pleasures. Wherever you are, recollect this com- mand is to be strictly obeyed. What though you may be thrown into the company of those who pro- fane the sabbath ; or what though worldly courtesy should seem to claim that you should relax a little from your accustomed strictness, for the sake of making yourself agreeable to irreligious friends — you have no right to listen to any such demands for a moment; and you cannot venture on the experiment of a compliance, but at the hazard of fearfully pro- voking God, and bringing upon yourself crimson guilt. That you may comply with this spirit of the 304 GROWTH IN GRACE. divine command, take heed that you avoid everything inconsistent with a devout observance of the day. Never allow yourself in any reading which is not strictly religious. Beware that you do not, from conversing on subjects which have a remote bearing upon religion, slide into conversation of a mere secu- lar character : the temptation to this will sometimes be almost irresistible. Guard against the indulgence of vain and worldly thoughts ; for though the eye of man can take no cognizance of these, they fall with- in the full observation of Him who searches the heart. But in order to keep holy the sabbath, you have much to perform, as well as much to avoid. With the exception of what are called " works of necessity and mercy," (and in respect to these, an enlightened conscience is to be the judge,) the whole day is to be devoted to duties strictly religious. Beside attend- ing on the public worship of the sanctuary, (in respect to an absence from which, you are never lightly to admit an excuse,) you are to devote a considerable part of the sabbath to the private exercises of medi- tation, prayer, and reading the scriptures and other religious books ; and some part of it may be pro- fitably spent, as you have opportunity, in serious conversation. It is also an employment perfectly consistent with the sacredness of the day, to com- municate religious instruction ; and for this, a noble opportunity is presented by sabbath schools. Keep- ing the sabbath in the manner which I have now described, you may reasonably expect the blessing of the Lord of the sabbath, in a rapid advance in piety. I have spoken of your attendance on the public GROWTH IN GRACE. 305 worship of God : this is so important a part of the business of the sabbath, as to require distinct con- sideration. Let me say, then, that you ought always to prepare yourself for this duty by secret prayer ; by imploring the divine blessing upon the exercises in which you are to engage, and divine aid to enable you to engage in them with a proper spirit. On your way to the house of God, let your meditations, and, if you converse, your words, be such as to pre- pare you the better for the solemnities in which you are to mingle ; and when you pass the consecrated threshold, realize that you have come hither for no other purposes than to worship God, and to listen to his truth. It is no part of your errand here to en- gage in worldly civilities ; or hear worldly news ; or count the number of strangers, and prepare to comment upon their appearance. Your business here lies between God and your own souls ; and it will never advance, while your attention is absorbed by external objects. Guard then against the idle gaze and the wandering imagination ; make the prayers and the praises which are here offered, your own ; let every truth which is here delivered, be ap- plied for your instruction, admonition, or consola- tion ; and feel best satisfied when, on retiring from the sanctuary, your thoughts have been least upon your fellow-mortals, and most upon God. And let not the good impressions which you may have re- ceived, be effaced by worldly conversation at the close of the service, or on the way to your dwelling. Decline all conversation which will be likely to exert such an influence, even though it should be solicited ; for it is far safer to offend man than God. 26+ 306 GROWTH IN GRACE. And avail yourself of the first opportunity to enter your closet, to supplicate the blessing of God to fol- low the service in which you have been engaged, and to bring home the truths which you have heard more impressively to your own soul. " They who wait upon the Lord" in this manner, "shall renew their strength ;" and shall have just occasion to say, " A day in thy courts is better than a thousand." In connection with this article, let me direct your attention for a moment, a little more particularly, to your duty in relation to social religious exercises during the week. These are never to be elevated to a level with the public services of the sabbath : the latter are prescribed by divine authority ; the former are left to the regulation of human prudence. But so chilling is the atmosphere of the world to re- ligious feeling, that the Christian greatly needs the aid which these weekly services are fitted to impart, to keep alive the spirit of devotion. They who fear the Lord will desire not only to speak often one to another, but to unite their hearts in prayer, and to open them to the reception of the truth. While, therefore, you regard such exercises as matter only of Christian prudence, you should consider them im- portant helps in the religious life ; and if, at any time, you grow weary of attending them, it will be well to inquire whether there is not a proportional decline in respect to other Christian duties. No doubt services of this kind may be multiplied to an improper extent, so as to interfere with duties of paramount claims ; and no doubt tKey may be ren- dered unprofitable, and even injurious, by being im- properly conducted: at the same time, I am con- GROWTH IN GRACE 307 strained to believe that objections to these services have arisen more frequently from want of religion, than any thing else ; and that the spirit which treats them with contempt, would, if it were armed with power, blot out the sabbath, and bring every institu- tion of God into the dust. 4. The last means of growth in grace which I shall here notice, is attendance on the Lord's supper. That you may receive the benefit which this ordi- nance is fitted to impart, endeavor to gain a deep impression of its nature and design. It is a com- memorating ordinance ; in which we are to remem- ber " the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, who, though he was rich, for" our " sakes became poor." It is a confessing ordinance ; by which we profess our- selves to be the disciples of Christ, and openly re- nounce the world as our portion. It is a communi- cating ordinance ; in which the blessings of God's grace are communicated for the renovation of our spiritual strength. It is a covenanting ordinance ; in which God declares himself our God, and we de- vote ourselves anew to his service. The more you reflect on the nature and design of this institution, the more you will discover in it of wisdom and grace ; the more you will derive from it of light, and strength, and comfort. Endeavor, moreover, to be faithful in your imme- diate preparation for this ordinance. This prepara- tion consists generally in all the private religious exercises of which I have spoken : but more espe- cially in self-examination. " Let a man examine himself," says the apostle; "and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of that cup." The public ser- 308 G R O W T II I N G R A C E . vice which has been instituted in our churches as preparatory to this ordinance, you are also devoutly and punctually to attend ; and let me say that, if you are voluntarily and habitually absent from that ser- vice, you not only wrong your own soul, but carry upon you the mark of a backslider. Cases may in- deed occur in which the Lord's table may be spread before you unexpectedly, and in which you have no opportunity for immediate preparation ; and then it is no doubt your duty to partake, and you may hope for the blessing of God. But where preparation is voluntarily neglected, you may expect that the ordi- nance will be to you a mere dead letter ; and it will be well, if you do not eat and drink judgment to yourself In your attendance on the ordinance, be careful that you cherish the feelings which the occasion is adapted and designed to awaken. You should yield yourself to devout admiration of that grace, and wisdom, and glory, which shine forth in the plan of redemption, and which seem concentrated around the Redeemer's cross. You are to behold with fer- vent gratitude the amazing sacrifice which consti- tuted the price of all your joys and hopes — the price of your immortal crown. You are to look inward with deep humility upon your own sins, as part of the guilty cause of your Redeemer's suflerings. You are to look upward with holy joy to a reigning Saviour, and to a bright inheritance. You are to renew your resolutions of devotedness to Christ, and to determine, in the streno-th of his orrace, on a course of more unyielding self-denial. You are to cherish the spirit of brotherly love towards your fellow- GROWTH IN GRACE. 309 Christians, and a spirit of good will towards the whole family of man ; and you are to let your benevolent affections go out in fervent prayer for the revival of God's work. Thus you are to wait upon the Lord at his table : but that you may not, after all, defeat the design of your attendance, carry the spirit of the ordinance back with you to your closet, and there let it be fanned into a still brighter flame. Carry it with you into the world, into scenes of care and temptation, and let it certify to all with whom you associate that you have been with Jesus. III. I proceed to the third and last division of the discourse, in which I am briefly to illustrate the im- portance of growth in grace. 1. Growth in grace is important, as constituting the only satisfactory evidence of piety. I well know that there is a tendency in the back- slider and self-deceiver to be perpetually recurring to past experience. When they are rebuked, as they cannot fail sometimes to be, by the consciousness of being far from God and from duty, they call to mind the days in which they were cheered, as they sup- pose, by the manifestations of the Saviour's love ; and by connecting experience at best equivocal in its character, and long since gone by, with a sad perver- sion of the doctrine of the saints' perseverance, they arrive at the welcome conclusion that, though fallen from their first love, they have yet the love of God in their hearts. Beware, my young friends, of this delusion. The Christian character is, in its very nature, progressive. If, then, vou make no sensible 310 GROWTH IN GRACE. progress in piety — much more if you are on the de- cline, and have suflered your affections to become wedded to the world — you have no right, from your past experience, to take the comfort of believing that this is only the occasional lapse of a child of God, from which his grace is pledged to bring you back : you have reason rather to calculate that you have been resting upon the hypocrite's hope, and that you are yet in your sins. But if, on the other hand, the principle of religion in your heart is constantly gain- ing strength, then you have evidence on which you may confidently rely, that you have been born of God. The grain of mustard-seed, when cast into the earth, is so small as almost to elude observation ; but when it shoots up into a tree, and gradually lifts its boughs towards heaven, no one doubts the reality of its existence. In like manner the principle of re- ligion, when first implanted in the heart, is so feeble, that even its existence may be a matter of question ; but as it gathers strength, and advances towards ma- turity, the evidence of its reality becomes decisive. 2. Growth in grace is important as constituting the only solid ground of comfort. We have already seen that it constitutes the only satisfactory evidence of piety. But without evidence of piety, you have no right to indulge the hope of heaven ; and without that hope, where in the universe will you look for comfort ? If you do not grow in grace, you must either be sunk in spiritual lethargy, or else you must be occasionally at least harrowed with fearful appre- hensions in respect to the future ; and who will say that either situation has any thing in it that deserves the name of enjoyment? If, on the other hand, you GROWTH IN GRACE. 311 grow in grace, you have, Avith the evidence of piety which is thus gained, a right to hope that you are an heir to the glories of the upper world. Is there any thing in this hope that is transporting ? As you value its consolations, grow in grace. Moreover, the growing Christian finds comfort not only in the hope of heaven, but in the daily exercise of the Christian graces ; but if you do not grow in grace, you have not more to expect from this latter source of comfort than from the former. In the ex- ercise of love to God, and faith in the Saviour, and many other Christian graces — yes, even in the suc- cessful struggles of the soul with sin — there is some- times a joy which mounts up to ecstacy. But to all this the sluggish and backslidden Christian (for such, at best, must he be who is not growing in grace) is, of course, a stranger. He cannot have the comfort of the Christian graces, because he has not the exer- cise of them. Cxrow in grace, then, as you would avoid the languor and apathy of spiritual declension on the one hand, and as you would rejoice in the inward experience of God's love on the other. 3. Growth in grace is important as constituting the only pledge of religious action. I am well aware that many actions externally good, and fitted to exert a benign influence on the world, are per- formed by men whose hearts have never been touched by a sanctifying influence : there are broad and deep streams of public charity, flowing from fountains into which the salt of divine grace has never been cast. Thanks to that Providence which has ordained that it should be so ; which causes bad men sometimes to do good ; laying under contribu- 312 GROWTH IN GRACE. tion their hands, even while they withhold their hearts. But who does not perceive that in all cases of this kind, there is not — cannot be — a pledge for continued exertion in the cause of Christ? As there is no love to that cause, whence shall come that con- straining influence, which shall nerve the hands for unrelaxed and persevering eff'ort ? Who can feel any assurance that the person who serves God to- day, by his property or his influence, from merely selfish motives, will not to-morrow, upon a change of circumstances, become a persecutor of the faith which he now labors to promote ? Far otherwise is it with the person who lives in the growing exercise of grace. With him, to do good is a matter of principle ; and in every variety of circumstances, it is the business of his life. Do you fear that he will grow weary of well-doing ? Never, so long as he continues to grow in grace ; for it is only the outward operation of the inward prin- ciple. Place him in circumstances the most unfa- vorable to benevolent action ; let him, for his mas- ter's sake, be shut out from the light of heaven, and chained in dreary solitude, where he can have no access to a human being — and is his benevolent in- fluence no longer exerted ? I tell you, Nay : That man is doing good even in his dungeon: he has in his breast a principle whose operations no tyrant can check, and no dungeon confine : though his com- munication with the visible world is cut ofl", he has communion with the invisible God ; and the influence of his prayers may not only change his dark abode into a habitation for the Most High, but may carry the blessings of God's grace to many souls. Culti- GROWTH IN GRACE. 313 vate, then, this holy principle, that yours may be a life not only of sincere, but of persevering benevo- lence ; and that it may hereafter be said of you, as of your Master, that you went about doing good. 4. Growth in grace is important, as constituting the only adequate preparation for heaven. You hope you have been renewed in the temper of your mind : but even if you are not deceived in this hope, you cannot be insensible that there is much of cor- ruption still lodged in your heart ; and that a mighty change is yet to take place in your character, before you are prepared to inhabit the regions of perfect purity. You still sometimes feel the risings of a spirit of rebellion : sometimes you are brought under the power of evil affections ; and not unfrequently, when your soul would rise to heaven in pious con- templation, it is weighed down to the dust by the most oppressive sluggishness. But this spirit of re- bellion, and these evil affections, and this oppressive sluggishness, you can never carry with you to hea- ven : hence the necessity of growing in ^race, that you may be prepared for heaven. But do you say that eternal life is promised to all who have been re- newed ; and that, die when they will, C4od will see to it that they are completely sanctified ? Be it so — but let it not be forgotten that, in the ordinary course of his providence, He accomplishes this object by bringing them to work out their own salvation witli fear and trembling. And besides, though there is a pledge that all the regenerate shall be received to heaven, yet the measure of their joy in that happy world is to be proportioned to. their present attain- ments. Wouldst thou then, Christian, be ready for 27 314 GROWTH IN GRACE. thine entrance into rest ? wouldst thou aspire to a place in heaven near thy Redeemer, where the beams of his glory shall illmninate thy soul with brightest effulgence ? then grow in grace ; press forward to the mark of the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Let me, in the conclusion of this discourse, my young friends, impress upon you, in one word, the importance of aiming at high attainments in religion. Whether you are to be a sluggish or an active Chris- tian: whether you are to cheer the region around you by the light of a holy example, or to be a stum- bling-block in the path of sinners, depends much on the resolutions which you now form, and the course which you now adopt. Oh, resolve — and supplicate God's grace to enable you to execute the resolution — that you will exemplify the character of a constantly growing Christian. Make all your worldly employ- ments subordinate, and, so far as possible, subservient to your progress in piety. Think yourself more happy when you have gained the victory over a be- setting sin, than if you should see an empire at your feet. Let nothing allure you — let nothing drive you from the straight and narrow path of duty. If the world should come and court you with its smiles, turn your back upon it, or meet it only as a tempter. If it should cast its chilling frown upon you, and call your zeal enthusiasm, and your devotion hypocrisy, remember that it is enough for the disciple that he be as his master. Be it your grand object to become a perfect person in Christ Jesus. Keep your eye steadily fixed on heaven, as the eagle's eye fastens upon the sun ; and let your spirit constantly press upward, as the eagle's wing lifts itself towards the orb of day. LECTURE XVI DOING GOOD. GALATIANS VI. 10. Let us do good unto all men. In this brief exhortation, the spirit of the gospel comes out with unrivalled beauty ; it is an index pointing away from earth to heaven, as the region whence this treasure of light and love was sent down to men. How different is the spirit of the gospel from the spirit of the world ! The one is selfish : the other, noble. The one breathes good wishes and kind words : the other prompts to substantial acts. The one is limited to a circle which private interests marks out : the other, in its comprehensive range, takes in the world, and calls every man a brother. What youth, especially what Christian youth, would not desire that this spirit might have a permanent lodgment in his heart ; controlling his actions, form- ing his character, elevating his destiny? It is of great importance, my young friends, that, at the very commencement of your religious life, you should not only be deeply impressed with the fact that the great purpose for which you are to live is to do good, but also that you should form your plans, 316 DOINGGOOD. and direct your efforts, in such a manner as to ac- complish the greatest amount of good in your power. Many a person who has been brought into the king- dom of Christ early in life, has sadly disappointed the hopes which have been formed in respect to his usefulness, merely from having made a wrong esti- mate of his own powers, or from having unwisely selected his sphere of action, or from having plunged, as it were, at random, into the duties of life, con- scious of his own good intentions, and presuming that they could scarcely fail to be fulfilled. With a view to guard you against any such mistakes, and to secure to yourselves and the world the full benefit of your early conversion, I bring before you to-day the comprehensive subject which my text suggests — that of DOING GOOD : and I will endeavor to present it under the four following divisions : — I. The field for doing good : II. Means of doing good : III. Directions for doing good : And, IV. Motives for doing good. I. What is the field in which, as Christians, you are called to labor ? In other words, to whom are you required to do good? I answer, in general, the field is the world : you are to do good unto all men. There are those who limit the sphere of their beneficence to their own families or kindred. To their own children they are even profuse in offices of kindness ; and not only do for them all which their necessities require, but grant them many indulg- DOINGGOOD. 317 ences which their best interests forbid. In the circle of their immediate friends, also, they seem to delight in diffusing happiness, and sometimes they may do this, even to their own personal inconve- nience. But bring before them the wants of a stran- ger — much more of an enemy — and they are deaf as adders to every claim you can urge upon their compassion. Their sympathy and their charity are all expended at home : they never go abroad in search of objects of distress ; they even pass un- heeded the suffering stranger who lies at their door. Exactly the opposite of this is the course which Christianity marks out, and which, as the disciples of Christ, you are bound to pursue. You are indeed permitted by the gospel (for it is the dictate of nature) to cherish towards your family and kindred a pecu- liar affection : and it may he proper that they should occupy the first place in your beneficent regards : but you have no right, and if you are a Christian you have no disposition, to limit your benevolent acts to them. Nor have you any right to refuse such acts even to an enemy ; nay, the fact that he is an enemy, may impose upon you the stronger obligations to do him good ; for not only is he a brother, as a mem- ber of the human family, but if he is an enemy to you, and cherishes towards you malevolent feelings, not improbably he is also an enemy to God, and as such, claims your best efforts for his salvation. Hear the language of our great Master on this subject : " But I say unto you, love your enemies ; bless them that curse you ; do good to them that hate you ; and pray for them that despitefully use you, and perse- cute you." 27* 318 DOINGGOOD. There are those, again, (and I here refer especiallj-^ to persons in the higher walks of life,) whose sphere of benevolent action is limited to those of the same rank with themselves. To the rich and the great, who stand least in need of their favors, their hearts and their hands seem always to be open ; and even to real objects of charity, who are invested with the dignity of rank, they may give liberally ; but if you go around among the poor, and the friendless, and the houseless, who have nothing but their misery to recommend them, you will find yourself in a region which the charity of which I am speaking has never condescended to explore, and amidst sufferings with which it could have no communion. Let there be some great enterprise set on foot, which will be blazoned abroad to excite the admiration of the world, and these persons will be forward to identify themselves with it, by contributing liberally to its advancement ; but as for the more humble and every day objects of charity, they have neither a heart to feel, nor a hand to give. Not so with the benevolence of the gospel. That is not only active, but unostentatious and humble. It disdains not to go into the haunts of wretchedness, and to search out the children of want and woe, and to minister to the relief of the most abject, and even of the most depraved. And after having gone into the dark retreats of misery, it does not go out into the world to chaunt its own praises, but goes back to the closet, to ask God's blessing on the deeds of mercy which it has performed — satisfied that only one record of them should be kept, and that in hea- ven. If you would see precisely what I mean, brought DOINGGOOD. 319 out into living action, you have it in the illustrious Howard, who flew through Europe like an angel of mercy, not repelled but attracted by the contagion and loathsomeness of hospitals and dungeons ; and who has left behind him a track of glory, which grows brighter the longer he sleeps in his grave. His was the genuine benevolence of the gospel; — doing good for the sake of doing good ; — energetic, self-denying, quick in its operations as the lightning; and yet unostentatious, seeking no man's applause, and caring for no earthly reward. There are those again whose range of benevolent exertion does not extend beyond a sect or party. In this narrow sphere, they are willing to labor, and perhaps to labor diligently ; they are willing to give, and perhaps to give liberally. And, at first view, you might think they were full of the benevolence of the gospel. But if you look a little farther, you will find that these people are Jews, and all who do not belong to their party are Samaritans. Let an object of charity be proposed to them, and the first inquiry is, " is it likely to subserve the interest of the sect or party to which I belong ?" and the answer to this question decides the course they adopt in respect to it. The object may be one in which the interests of the community at large are deeply involved ; but this is a consideration lighter than air with a person who is shut up within the narrow limits of a sect. True Christian benevolence knows no such limits You could no more trammel her by sectarian pecu- liarities, than you could arrest the progress of light, or chain a giant with a cobweb. Instead of stopping at the line which divides one denomination of Chris- 320 D O I N G G O O D . tians from another, as if she were arrested by a flaming sword, she walks over that line every day, and breathes as freely on one side as on the other. What though a man may be a heretic in religion, and, bearing the Christian name, may still have renounced the Christian faith ; she regards him just as he is ; she does not receive him into her bosom as a Chris- tian, but she pities and prays for him as an errorist, and does her utmost to reclaim him from his wander- ings. All who are fundamentally right, she receives into the arms of Christian fellowship: to all the rest she delights to do good, as God gives oppor- tunity. I observe, once more, that there are those whose benevolence is limited to their own country. It may be they have bright visions of their country's future glory ; and their bosoms kindle at the thought that she is marching towards a nobler destiny than awaits any other of the nations. And when plans for her aggrandizement are brought forward, whether they are connected immediately with politics or religion, they stand forward as their advocates ; and whether it be personal exertion or pecuniary contribution that is demanded, the demand is met with commend- able promptness. But suppose there be a project of benevolence presented, as wide as the world ; a pro- ject in which one's own country is recognised only as a single member in a great family : — and it is met with chilling apathy ; and it is faced with a thousand objections : and its advocates not improbably are called enthusiasts or madmen. Here again the flame of benevolence burns brightly within certain limits ; DOINGGOOD. 321 but beyond those limits, it goes out in the chillness of the grave. Christian benevolence, on the other hand, literally embraces the world. He Avho has been touched with the true spirit of the gospel, remembers that men of other countries, as truly as of his own, have souls and bodies to be provided for, wants to be supplied, and miseries to be relieved ; and he does not, he can- not, refuse his aid to any project for doing good, be- cause it may be intended to operate beyond the sphere of his immediate observation. He has his eye fixed on the moral regeneration of the world ; and he does not regard any contribution, whether of influence or money, as to no purpose, which has a bearing, however remote, upon this grand object. Hence, while he is the active promoter of missions at home, he labors also to advance the cause of mis- sions abroad; and the news of the triumphs of the gospel from the distant islands of the sea, gladdens his heart as truly as if it had come from his own immediate neighborhood. Thus you see, my young friends, that the field which you are called to occupy in doing good, is literally the world ; that is, you are to include all men in your benevolent regards, and are actually to do good to all men, so far as you have opportunity. II. Let me now, secondly, call your attention to some of the most important means of doing good. On a subject of so great extent, I must necessarily confine myself to mere hints. It may be proper, however, before I proceed to specify particular means of doing good, to observe 322 D O I N G G O O D . that these means are not all equally fitted to every individual ; or rather, some of them may be employed with greater effect by some individuals than by others; owing to an original difference of character, or to a difference of providential allotments. All of them, however, may, by most or all of you, be em- ployed, in a greater or less degree ; the comparative importance which you are to attach to each, or the principle by which you are to be governed in your selection, will come into view in a subsequent article of this discourse. I remark, then, 1. In the first place, that one important means of doing good is private conversation. In the circle of your acquaintance, and probably in the circle of your intimate friends, there are many young persons, who are living in the neglect, perhaps the open contempt, of religion. With some of them, it may be, you have been associated in a habit of carelessness, and possibly may have contributed your influence to render them insensible to their immortal interests. Now, these especially are the persons to- ward whose salvation your private efforts are to be directed. You are indeed to address yourself to this duty with prudence ; not in a manner to excite dis- gust, but, if possible, to secure a favorable and list- ening regard ; nevertheless, you may, you ought, to make a serious and earnest effort to impress them with their guilt and danger, and to bring them to escape from the wrath to come. Or it may be that some with whom you have intercourse are actually awakened to a sense of religion, and are oppressed with the burden of unpardoned sin, and are agitating DOINGGOOD. 323 the momentous question — " what they must do to be saved." You may do good — good beyond the power of human calculation — by pressing upon such per- sons the obligations of repentance, and faith, and holiness ; by admonishing them of the danger of re- sisting the influences of the Holy Spirit ; by taking them by the hand, as it were, and leading them into the kingdom. All this you may do in the ordinary intercourse of private friendship, without either being or seeming to be officious or obtrusive ; and for ought you can tell, you may by such instrumentality save souls from death, and hide a multitude of sins. Moreover, you may do good by private conversa- tion, not only to those who are strangers to the power of religion, but also to Christians, and espe- cially to Christians at your own period of life. You may see among your companions some who are be- ginning to grow unmindful of their Christian obliga- tions, and seem to have entered on a course of back- sliding. You may do immense good by meeting them at the threshold of their decline with an afl?ec- tionate and faithful admonition : you may not only do good to them, but prevent a vast amount of evil to the cause of Christ. And to those of your Chris- tian companions who are watchful and exemplary you may do good by encouraging them in acts of self-denial, by cherishing in their bosoms a spirit of devotion, by provoking them to love and good works. Especially, you may avail yourself of your inter- course with them, to devise plans for the moral and spiritual benefit of your fellow-men, or to encourage and assist them in carrying such plans into efl'ect. In short, all your private intercourse with your com- 324 DOINGGOOD. panions, whether they be Christians or not, may, if rightly conducted, minister, either directly or indi- rectly, to the promotion of their best interests. 2. Another efficient means of doing good is fur- nished by the opportunity of instructing in the sab- bath school. This I know may be considered as be- longing to the great system of benevolent operations, of which I design to speak more particularly under the next article : but it is of so much importance, and withal belongs so appropriately to young Chris- tians, that I cannot forbear to give it a distinct con- sideration. Though the sabbath school institution is yet com- paratively in its infancy, it has been too long in ex- istence to require, especially before the youth of this congregation, that its claims should be formally set forth. But I speak in accordance with my most de- liberate convictions when I say that you can scarcely employ a more efficient means of doing good than this institution furnishes: none which will tell more loudly or more gloriously on the destinies of indi- viduals, on the destiny of our country, or on the destiny of the world. When you sit down in the sabbath school room, with a few children around you, you may seem to those who look on, and pos- sibly you may seem to yourself, to be accomplishing but little : but rely on it, the results of what you are doing, as they will be seen in the light of eternity, will surprise you: the influence which you exert there may not improbably be felt through your city, and even through your country: and no mortal can say at what point, either of time or place, it will be arrested. If I were called upon to say what feature D O I N G G O O D . 325 in the present age is most favorable to the benevo- lent activity of Christian youth, I should unhesi- tatingly refer to the fact that it is in an age of sabbath schools ; and I am sure that none of you whose heart has been touched by the benevolence of the gospel, will be willing to lose the opportunity of doing good which is hereby afforded. Let me say, then, my young friends, let the sabbath school come in for a large share of your active re- gard and support. Instead of regarding it a task, regard it a privilege, to engage in it. And that your labors may turn to the best account, qualify your- selves thoroughly for the discharge of your duty ; endeavor to impart, in connection v/ith each exercise, all the instruction you can ; aim not only to enlighten the understanding, but to impress the heart ; and follow up every good impression Avith pious and affectionate counsels, which may be fitted to render it abiding. Consider yourselves as intrusted in a mea- sure with the best interests of your pupils ; and let all your efforts be directed, if possible, to secure their salvation. I rejoice that so many of you are already enlisted in this benevolent, this godlike enterprise ; enlisted in it, I trust, with a degree of ardor in some measure proportioned to its importance. 3. You have another important means of doing good in the great system of benevolent operations by which the present day is distinguished. The in- stitutions which have grown up during the present age for the diffusion of Christian light, and the con- sequent melioration of the character and condition of man, bespeak a new and better era of the world ; and they put into the hands of every one, and espe- 326 DOINGGOOD. cially of every youth, facilities for doing good, which the wise and virtuous of other ages have desired without having enjoyed. This, unquestionably, is the great moral machinery by which the world is to be evangelized ; and there is not one of you who may not, who ought not, and I think I may say who will not, in some way or other, put forth his hand to keep this machinery in operation. You may aid this great cause, in the first place, by personal exertion. In sustaining and carrying forward these various institutions, there is a demand for much sober calculation, for much judicious ma- nagement, for much zealous and faithful co-opera- tion ; and that, whether you consider each institu- tion as insulated, or as making part of a great sys- tem of benevolent operation. Here is a field in which you may tax your faculties to the utmost, and which you cannot occupy with success, without more or less of intellectual effort. But beside the exertion necessary to guide and control these institutions, there is also a demand for a spirit of enterprise in extending their operation, and in enlisting a greater amount of influence in their favor. You may, by suitable measures, bring other youth who have hitherto stood aloof to engage in the same great cause ; and they, in their turn, may influence others : and so any one of you, for aught you can tell, may oive a new impulse to the benevolent oj^erations of a neighborhood, or even of a city. And you may help forward the same great cause also by your pecuniary contributions. I do not un- dertake to prescribe the amount which any one shall give ; nevertheless, I will venture to say, Give as the DOINGGOOD. 327 Lord has prospered you : give as an enlightened and well regulated conscience dictates : give as you be- lieve the object will appear to have demanded, when you shall see it in the light of the judgment-day. If you are rich, you can give much ; if you have only a competence, you can do less ; if you are compara- tively poor, you can do something : and God, both by his word and providence, assures you that what you give shall not make you the poorer. It is a noble resolution which some young persons have formed, to consecrate a certain part of their earnings to God in the promotion of his cause ; and this resolution, to their honor, they have been enabled to keep, even though they have been prospered beyond all their ex- pectations. The world is not to be evangelized without an immense amount of pecuniary contribu- tion ; and as you desire that glorious result, and as you desire to be instrumental in bringing it forward, you cannot but esteem it a privilege to contribute of your substance according to your several ability. 4. Another important means of doing good, which is fairly within the reach of all of you, is a holy ex- ample. There is a power in a consistent, devoted. Christian life, which belongs to nothing else ; and which greatly increases the power of each particular effort that you may put forth. For instance, you may talk much on the subject of religion, and occa- sionally manifest a deep interest in it, and yet it will be to little purpose, if your general deportment be not in correspondence with your conversation ; whereas, on the other hand, a uniformly holy exam- ple will give to the same conversation a point and energy not easily resisted. So also you may engage 328 DOINGGOOD. actively in the pomotion of benevolent objects, and may bring large gifts to the treasury of the Lord ; and if this is not of a piece with your daily walk, instead of stimulating others to nobler deeds of charity, it is not improbable that the charge of os- tentation will be made behind your back, if it is not rung in your ears. But beside the influence which a holy example exerts in giving effect to individual acts of beneficence, there is a more general and more direct influence, which may be calculated upon with absolute certainty. A devoted life addresses itself, silently indeed, but most pow^erfully, to persons of every description. To the careless sinner, and to the slumbering Christian, it brings reproof and admo- nition. To those who are awakened to the import- ance of religion, it proflers a most persuasive invita- tion to comply with the terms of the gospel. And to those who are actively engaged in doing their Master's business, it holds out encouragement to in- creased activity and perseverance. In short, a true Christian example is a living epistle, known and read of all men. To this point, then, let me entreat you, my young friends, to give diligent heed. See that your conver- sation be, in all respects, as becometh the gospel of Christ. See that the spirit of piety shed its kindly influence over your whole life. In whatever circum- stances you are placed, exhibit the humility, the con- sistency, the dignified firmness, that belongs to the Christian character. I exhort you to this now, not as a matter of comfort, but as a matter of usefulness — as a means of doing good ; and I repeat, that there is in the Christian life a power over the hearts and DOINGGOOD. 329 consciences of men, of the extent of which you have probably never conceived. And if this is true of the Christian life in any circumstances, suffer me to say that it is especially true of it when it is exhibited by the young. Let an elevated tone of piety appear in a young Christian ; let him be at once humble, active, and consistent ; and he will diffuse around him a light, which, perhaps, beyond almost an} other, will lead men to glorify our Father who is in heaven. 5. The last of the means of doing good which I shall specify, is prayer. In a preceding discourse, I have spoken of its importance as a means of growth in grace ; I now remark, that it is not less important as a means of doing good. The kind of prayer to which I here especially refer, is, of course, inter- cession. I stop not now to inquire in respect to the nature of the connection between asking and receiving : ir is sufficient for us to know that there is such a con- nection : — that God has commanded us to ask, and has promised, if we ask aright, that we shall receive. And he is as ready to hear the prayers which we offer in behalf of others, as of ourselves. Not that every prayer we offer will be answered in the very manner, and at the very time, which we may expect or desire ; still it is true, literally true, that praying breath is never spent in vain ; and we shall ulti- mately know that all our prayers offered with faith in the Saviour, have been answered in the best man- ner possible: — in the way which infinite wisdom and goodness has dictated. In some respects, you wilj instantly perceive that ?8* 330 DOINGGOOD, prayer possesses an advantage over every other means of doing good. It is a means which you may employ with its full effect, when you are unable to employ any other. Perhaps you have an irreli- gious friend, who has steadily resisted all your eflbrts for his salvation ; who has even treated your affec- tionate counsels and expostulations with contempt, insomuch that you have become satisfied that you have done all for him in that way that you can ever do : — must you then absolutely give him up, and sit down with the heart-rending reflection that he must certainly perish ? No : you may enter your closet, and on his behalf commune with your Father who seeth in secret ; and there perhaps, when all other means have failed, you may prevail with God to create within him a clean heart. Or you may be laid in the providence of God upon a sick-bed ; and you may think with deep concern of the salvation of sinners around you, and yet be unable to reach them with the voice of expostulation ; or you may think of the noble institutions of Christian charity which bless our land, and yet be too poor to contribute a farthing to aid their operation ; but in either case, you can wield the most powerful engine that God has put into the hands of mortals ; and it may be that you will actually accomplish more on that bed of sickness, than many around you who have health, and property, and a profusion of the means of active benevolence. And then again, let it not be forgotten, that unless all your other efforts to do good are crowned with prayer, you have no assurance that they Avill be of any avail : or if they should, by God's grace, be made instrumental of good to others, they DOINGGOOD. 331 will bring no blessings into your own bosom. And let me say too, that the spirit of prayer is the spirit of beneficence : and it is in the closet, in the worship- ping assembly, and universally at the throne of grace, that the Christian's heart is quickened to its highest impulse of benevolent action. I say then, my young friends, pray without ceas- ing. Pray in season and out of season. Pray for your friends, and your enemies. Pray for those who are near at hand, and those who are afar off. Pray for the whole family of man. Pray with deep humility, with true faith, with earnest perseverance ; and you shall know, probably in this world, if not at the judgment, that in these importunate wrestlings, you were doing a greater amount of good to the souls of your fellow-men, than you have the power to calculate; perhaps, that you were clothing the wilderness with moral verdure, and causing the dark places of the earth to echo with the sounds of sal- vation. I have now specified some of the most important means of doing good ; means which, in a greater or less degree, are within the reach of all of you. Let me here only add, that your worldly calling, what- ever it may be, ought to be regarded by you in the same light as an important means of benefiting your fellow-men. In whatever sphere Providence may call you to labor, you are to bear in mind that your efforts are not to terminate in mere self-gratifi- cation, but are to have respect to the higher purposes of doing good to others, and of glorifying God. III. I proceed to the third general division of the 332 DOINGGOOD. discourse, in which I am to suggest some directions for doing good. 1. In the first place, then, if you desire to accom- plish the greatest amount of good, I would say, Be careful to select a field adapted to your peculiar talents. This remark may apply in general to the choice of your calling for life ; or it may apply more particularly to the special enterprises of benevolence in which you may engage. There are a great variety of stations and employments allotted to men, in any of which the true Christian, if otherwise jfitted for them, cannot fail to be useful. But it is easy to conceive that a Christian, with certain natural or acquired talents, might be very useful in one station, when he would be little more than a cumberer of the ground in another. Hence the vast importance of judiciously selecting your employments ; of always occupying those places which you are fitted to occupy with the greatest advantage ; of using those means for doing good, which are likely, in your hands, to be most efficacious. It is true, indeed, that this is a subject on which you may not always be able to form the most correct opinion ; for there is no kind of knowledge in which we are more apt to be deficient, than the knowledge of our own character: but if you are prudent, you will not only look well into your own hearts, but will take counsel of judicious Christian friends, who will be able to judge with less partiality, and probably with more correctness. Entering a sphere of labor for which you are fitted, you may accomplish more in a short period, than, in other circumstances, you could accomplish during a whole life. D O I N G G O O D . 333 There is one common mistake connected with this subject, to which I beg leave to advert for the sake of putting you on your guard against it, if perchance it should with any of you become a practical matter. I refer to the fact that young men, not unfrequently, from conscientious considerations, leave a profession to which they have been trained, and for which they are fitted, for one to which they have neither a natural nor acquired adaptation. Far be it from me to question that there may be cases in which a me- chanic, or a merchant, or a lawyer, may very pro- perly resign the trade or the profession to which he has been educated, and even, at a comparatively late period, enter the gospel ministry ; but I am con- strained to offer it as my deliberate conviction that, in the great majority of instances in which such a change takes place, it is not for the better but for the worse, as it respects the amount of good ultimately accomplished. Admitting that the calling to which the individual is first devoted, is honest and honor- able, and one to which he has been regularly trained, he had, in all ordinary cases, better remain in it; for if he enter another, especially if he enter the gospel ministry, it will probably be with at best a hurried preparation, and in circumstances which give little promise of success. If you have found by experi- ence that you can occupy one place to advantage, there is always some hazard in relinquishing it for another which you have not tried, of a very different character. And you misjudge altogether, if you ima- gine that the Christian ministry opens the only ex- tensive field of usefulness to a Christian : for it ad- mits of no question that there are many good men. 334 DOINGGOOD. who can be far more useful out of the ministry than in it. I do not decide that in a case like that which I have supposed, you ought not to change; but I say with confidence, that you ought not tc do it without much deliberation and prayer. 2. Another direction necessary to be observed, if you will accomplish the greatest amount of good in your power, is, that, so far as may be, your whole time should be occupied in doing- good. I should not be surprised, if the query should arise in some of your minds, whether this is indeed possible; whether it is not necessary, from the very constitu- tion of our nature, that part of our time should be devoted to amusement? I answer, the constitution of our nature does require an occasional cessation from severe labor, and an occasional change of em- ployment; but it does not require that it should be a change from what is useful to what is useless or foolish : on the contrary, the whole purpose, the only legitimate purpose of amusement, is answered by a change from one useful employment to another; an employment which keeps you still doing good, though you are doing good in a different way. If you govern your conduct by this principle, you will find yourselves blessed with a far higher degree of activity both of mind and body, and will be far better fitted for the discharge of your ordinary duties, than if you should yield yourselves up to absolute inac- tion, or to what ordinarily passes with the world under the name of amusement. In this M'^ay, too, many of your precious moments which would other- wise be lost, and worse than lost, are improved to DOINGGOOD. 335 the benefit of your fellow-men, and the glory of God. 3. If you would do all the good in your power, reduce your various duties, so far as possible, to system. Every man of the world knows how neces- sary this is in the accomplishment of his purposes: and it is equally necessary for the man, who, what- ever he does, aims to do all to the glory of God. You ought to regard this as a matter of Christian obligation, not only in respect to whatever relates to your daily employment, but to your efforts for the promotion of particular objects of benevolence, and especially to your pecuniary contributions. Let the plan by which you are to regulate your whole con- duct, be formed in your closet: let it be formed de- liberately ; in the exercise of a spirit of prayer ; with a deep sense of your Christian obligations ; and in view of the retributions of the judgment : and that plan reduced to practice, will, on the whole, bring a much larger amount of blessing in its train, than any course of conduct which should be left to the control of accidental circumstances and occa- sional impulses. I do not say but that, in the latter case, you might sometimes do more, and give more, from the momentary impulse of excited feeling, than in the former: but in the one case, your influence would be like that of a summer shower — rattling, soon over, and not penetrating beyond the surface of the earth ; in the other, it would be like that of a steady rain — comparatively noiseless, but sinking deep into the earth, and causing it to minister to the wants of man. Suffer me to say, my young friends, that if you in- 336 DOINGGOOD. tend ever to regulate your efforts in doing good by a regard to system, you cannot begin too early. I know not whether there be any one habit which is broken up with more difficulty, than a habit of action which has no respect to order; and such a habit per- sisted in for a few years, if we may judge from the analogy of experience, must be pronounced nearly incurable. As you desire, then, not only to do the greatest amount of good, but to do it with the greatest ease and pleasure, I exhort you to lose no time in forming a habit of systematic action. 4. It is also important, in order that you may do the greatest good in your power, that your efforts should be proportioned to different objects, accord- ing to their claims on your regard. Two objects may be equally important in themselves, and yet the one, from peculiar circumstances, may have a much stronger claim on your attention than the other : for instance, the members of your own family, or the circle of your immediate friends, have no doubt a stronger claim on your benevolent exertions, than the inhabitants of Japan or Hindostan ; not because the souls of your kindred or friends are more pre- cious than the souls of these heathen, but because Providence has placed the former more immediately within the range of your influence. Not that you are to refuse your aid for the salvation of those who are afar off; for you have already seen that your field of operation is the world : nevertheless, as a general rule, you are to regard those who are near you, other things being equal, as having stronger claims than the more distant, on the principle to which I have just adverted. Of the various objects DOINGGOOD. 337 of real benevolence which are presented to you, I do not advise you to turn away from any which you have the ability to aid ; but I exhort you to let the comparative aid which you render to each, be a matter of reflection and prayer. An object in itself less important, may, sometimes, from peculiar cir- cumstances, demand, for the time being, more of your aid, than a more important one ; but in general, the relative importance of the object, in connection with the providential relation you sustain to it, is to be the criterion by which you are to determine your duty. 5. I observe, once more, that if you would do the greatest amount of good in your power, you must watch for the most favorable seasons for action. You know how important this is to the merchant, and indeed to men of every profession ; the improve- ment of a single opportunity, the taking advantage of a slight turn of circumstances, may be the hinge on which turns their fortune for life. Let not the children of this world, my young friends, be wiser in their generation than the children of light. Be always on the watch for opportunities of doing good ; lest, while your vigilance is suspended for an hour, some opportunity should escape you, which, by hav- ing been faithfully improved, might have secured the salvation of some immortal soul. Be ready at all times to speak a word in season for God : I say, a word in season ; for while I desire that you may be faithful on this subject, I would never have you dis- gust by being inappropriate and obtrusive: but "a word fitly spoken," that is, spoken in the right time, and in the right manner, the wise man has declared, 29 338 DOINGGOOD, " is like apples of gold in pictures of silver." So also you may sometimes do incalculable good by a tract, and that too in circumstances in which you could do good in no other way : and who does not know that, by this means, a reproof has sometimes been brought home to the heart of the scoffer, which has melted him down into a penitent at the foot of the cross ? In a word, let it be your object, while you are always engaged in doing good, to avail your- selves especially of those golden seasons which now and then occur, in which you may accomplish great good, perhaps in a single moment ; opportunities which, if once suffered to pass, can never be recalled. IV. I have already dwelt at so great length on this subject, that I shall detain you but a few moments upon the last article, in which I am to consider the motives for doing good : though this of itself consti- tutes a subject so broad, that, instead of occupying a small part of a discourse, it might profitably occupy several discourses. 1. The first motive which I would present before you for doing good is, that, in this way only you an- swer the end of your existence. A moment's in- spection of your intellectual and moral constitution shows you that you are gifted with noble powers ; powers which could have been bestowed only by the Almighty and All-wise God. The question arises, Whence, then, were they bestowed? Was it that they might be perverted to purposes of rebellion and crime ? Such an inquiry needs no reply. Was it, then, that they might merely answer the purposes of self-indulgence, or that they should remain in a state D O I N G G O O D . 339 of indolent inaction ? To admit this were not only absurd, but blasphemous. You need go to no higher teachers than reason and conscience to be assured that these noble powers were given you for benevo- lent action; and that when they are used in any other way, or for any other purpose, they are per- verted, Man was made for a far higher purpose than the beasts that perish ; but if his faculties are employed in any other way than in doing good, he loses the place in creation which his Maker assigned him, and becomes worse than a blank in the works of God. I know that this is a motive which ad- dresses itself to youth of every character — to those who utterly neglect religion, as well as to those who have entered on a religious life : but I am sure it applies in all its force to you who are professedly the disciples of Christ ; for to say nothing of the fact that you may be deceived, it is certain that you bear about with you a body of sin, and hence are in danger of doing far less good than is actually within your power; and just in proportion as you come short of this, you defeat the design for which your faculties, your very existence, were given you. As you desire then to answer in the highest degree the end for which God made you, and made you what you are in the scale of being, be always employed in doing good. 2. Another motive by which I would urge you to a life of active benevolence is, that your destiny thereby becomes allied to that of the highest orders of creation. No doubt there are various ranks of being above us, as we know that there are various orders below us ; and with the exception of the rebel 340 DOINGGOOD. angels who are confined in chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day, all these supe- rior orders of intelligence are engaged in a course of unceasing, active benevolence. They breathe the pure atmosphere of heaven ; they w^alk in the light of the Lamb ; they execute the purposes of infinite wisdom and infinite love ; they strike their golden harps to the praises of Jehovah. By a life of active benevolence, you become incorporated into the same family with them, and prepared for their communion and their joys. Nay, more, your destiny, in some respects, will be elevated above theirs ; for the song of redemption you will raise to a higher and nobler note than they ever can. Is not here, then, a power- ful motive to benevolent action ; a consideration which should induce you not to be weary in well- doing? 3. By a life of active benevolence, you are changed into the image of God, from glory to glory. It is the most perfect epitome that was ever formed of the character of God, that he is Love : it is his delight- ful and unceasing employment to do good. Every thing in creation, every thing in providence, every thing in redemption, proves it. Would you, then, bear the lineaments of his character ; and do you desire that you may wear his image with increasing bright- ness ? Then, let me say, imitate his divine benefi- cence. Let it be the constant employment of your life to do good. This brings you up towards the standard of infinite perfection ; and while it makes you like God, it makes you a constant object of his complacence and blessing. DOINGGOOD. 341 4. Be encouraged to a life of benevolent action by the consideration that you hereby act in character, not only as a creature of God, and a probationer for ■eternity, but especially as a professor of religion. In acknowledging yourself a disciple of Jesus Christ, you not only recognise your obligations to do good, but avow your determination to do good ; and it is only in proportion as your life is given to active benevolence, that you redeem the pledge which a Christian profession involves. When you make it manifest that your grand aim is to diffuse blessings around you, to relieve the temporal and spiritual wants of your fellow-creatures, and thus to leave the world the better for your having lived in it, your character is clothed with a majesty which does not belong to that of the hero or the statesman — the majesty of a consistent Christian. But on the other hand, if you content yourself with a mere negative character, satisfied to do no harm, though you do little positive good, every man who knows what you profess, will note your inconsistency, and will, at least in his heart, say, '* You profess more, but what do you more than others ?" 5. Finally : Let me urge you to a steady course of benevolent action, by the consideration that in no other way, can you accomplish the design of your early conversion. When God calls sinners into his kingdom at any period of life, he calls them to be active in his service: wh€n he calls them in the morning of life, it is that they may labor for him early ; and if he is pleased to continue them to an advanced period, that they may also labor long. Suppose^ in his providence, he should spare you to 29* 342 DOINGGOOD. advanced age — what an amount of good may you not accomplish ; what a mighty influence may you not exert on the destinies of your fellow-men ; what large treasures of bliss and glory may you not lay- up for yourselves in a better world ! And what if you should die early? Still you do not wish to die without having done something to benefit your generation, and glorify God : and God, by calling you early into his kingdom, has declared that he is willing — nay, that he is desirous that you should thus be honored. In the accomplishment of this benevolent design concerning you, see that you faithfully and diligently co-operate ; do good to all men as you have opportunity ; and God your Father and Redeemer will smile upon you from his throne, and ere long will take you up to dwell amid the glories of his own eternal beneficence. :*- LECTURE XVII. THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN'S COURSE II. TIMOTHY, IV. 7. I have finished my course. You will instantly perceive that I have chosen this passage somewhat in the way of accommodation. As it stands in the apostle's discourse, it is the lan- guage, not of a young Christian, but of an aged Christian, who is just closing his career of conflict and trial, and has heaven full in view. "I have finished my course — the labors and sufferings of a long life are now soon to be ended : already I have reached the hither part of the dark valley ; the crown of righteousness, and the robe of glory, begin to glit ter in my eye ; and strains of heavenly music fall sweetly on my ear." Oh what a moment was that to Paul ! Who would not covet death, if he could greet it with such joyful confidence, as a messenger to call him up to glory ? But in the present discourse, I purpose to consider the text as an expression of triumphant faith in a young Christian, in the immediate prospect of his departure. In the series of discourses which I am 344 YOUNG CHRISTIANS COURSE. now bringing to a close, I have contemplated a youth, first, as exposed, perhaps yielding, to the temptations of the world, and neglecting his immor- tal interests; then, as inquiring with deep anxiety, "what he shall do to be saved," then, as actually complying with the conditions of the gospel, and becoming a new creature in Christ Jesus ; and sub- sequently, as walking in the commandments and ordinances of the Lord, and thus growing in know- ledge, piety, and usefulness. I now make the sup- position — and it surely involves nothing improbable — that this same youth, in the midst of his Christian activity, is arrested by the hand of death ; and that, in the last hour of his life, as he contemplates the past, and looks forward to the future, he exclaims, " I have finished my course." I invite you, my young friends, to contemplate this youth — suppose, if you will, that it is one of your own companions — in these most solemn and interesting circumstances ; and then answer to your own conscience, whether the joy of such a death does not compensate a thou- sand fold for all the sacrifices which, yourselves being judges, religion ever required of him. Without adverting particularly to the obvious fact that the text contains an allusion to the Grecian games, I shall proceed directly to call your attention to the COURSE here spoken of, in application to a young Christian : to its character, its close, its con- sequences. I. Its Character. And I remark, in the first place, that it is a brief course. Brief indeed is the course of that Christian YOUNG christian's COURSE. 345 who even fills up his threescore years and ten ; for the life of man, at its best state, is as a dream of the night when one awaketh. But in the case which I am supposing, it is a brief period compared with that which falls to the lot of many others. This is true of the whole period of youthful life ; and it is especially true of that part of it, which is devoted to the service of Christ. The youth perhaps has lived twelve, fifteen, twenty years, before he has ever thought seriously of his soul's salvation : supposing him, at either of these periods, to have entered on the religious life, and yet to find an early grave, how short the season allotted to his Christian course ! Whatever he may have done, or whatever he may have suffered, in the cause of his Redeemer, has all been brought within rery narrow limits. Again : It is a beneficent course. However some may imagine that a life of religion necessarily im- plies seclusion from the world, and others, that it imposes no peculiar obligations, the Christian of whom I am speaking, having been faithful, has acted upon a far different principle. From the time that he became a new creature in Christ Jesus, he has steadily recognised his obligation to live not for him- self, but for Him who died for his salvation. His grand object has been to do good ; — to do good in the various relations of life ; — to do good to all men, so far as he has had opportunity and ability. He has found no time to waste in the follies to which many of his companions have yielded ; but has en- deavored, to the extent of his power, to give all his hours to some employment, which would contribute to render the world better for his having lived in it. 346 YOUNG Again: It is a self-denied course. At its very commencement, he took a deliberate survey of the field he was about to enter, and saw that he could do nothing without constant conflict ; but he resolved to be a Christian notwithstanding ; and from that hour he became crucified to the world, and the world was crucified to him. Not improbably he had much to encounter in leaving gay associates, and taking his stand on the side of religion; but he dared to be singular then, and the resolutions which he then formed to resist temptation, he has steadily adhered to since. He has found himself in only a partially sanctified state, with corrupt afllections and inclina- tions often prompting him to sin ; and sometimes he has been ready to exclaim, under the power of in- dwelling corruption, " O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death ?" Nevertheless, he has resolutely prosecuted the war- fare with himself, and has seen his spiritual enemies gradually put under his feet. It has been his con- stant prayer, his earnest endeavor, that he might gain an entire victory over all his evil passions and appe- tites, and that every principle of his nature might be brought into captivity to the obedience of Christ. Again : It is a dependent course : and by this, I mean that he has not gone about the performance of his duties in his own strength. He has recollected o that all his springs were in God ; that while he was commanded to be active, he was dependent for the very power of action on the influence of the Holy Spirit. Instead of perverting this truth to minister to indolence on the one hand, or presumption on the other, he uses it as furnishing at once an argument YOUNG christian's COURSE. 347 for activity and humility , and while he doeth what his hand findeth to do with his might, he habitually connects with his efforts to do good, a sense of de- pendence on Almighty grace. Hence that may be said of him, in reference to his general character, which was said of Paul in reference to his conver- sion — "Behold he prayeth !" Further : It is an increasingly easy course. When he first contemplated the obstacles which would op- pose his progress, they seemed to him perhaps well nigh insurmountable ; and it may be that he hesitated long before he took up the resolution to encounter them. One of the greatest difficulties he apprehended was that of separating himself from worldly com- panions and vanities, and taking the attitude of a determined friend of religion, in the face of the world : but he has found the difficulty in this respect con- stantly diminishing with each successive effort ; and that, not only inasmuch as his efforts have contri- buted to increase his power of action, on the princi- ple that every faculty is improved by proper exercise, but also because his determined perseverance has discouraged, in a great degree, the attempts to draw him away from his duty. And as it is in this respect, so it is in every other. He has indeed, as he has advanced, learned more of the corruption of his heart, and of his need of a constant divine influence ; nevertheless, every temptation over which he has gained the victory, has rendered each successive one less formidable : every evil affection which he has been enabled to crucify, has given him an advantage in respect to every other which has risen in his heart : every measure of grace which he has received. 348 YOUNG christian's COURSE. has been a measure of strength to enable him the better to discharge his duty. In this way, amidst all the disclosures of his own corruptions, amidst the constantly accumulating weight of duty, his course has continually become more easy ; and obstacles which once seemed not only real, but even appalling, have at length entirely disappeared. Moreover, it is on the whole a pleasant course. Yes, it is pleasant, with all the conflicts and trials with which it is connected ; for with these very con- flicts and trials, grace intermingles ; so that the cup which seems to have in it nothing but bitterness, has really little else than consolation. If I were to speak of the elements of the joy which is here experienced, I should tell you of that peace which passeth under- standing ; of that hope which is an anchor to the soul ; of that living faith which rests in and appro- priates the promises of God ; which unites the soul to its Saviour, and impresses upon it his image ; which takes from adversity its terrors, and plucks from death his sting. Leaving out of view then altogether the exceeding and eternal weight of glory, I say there is enough to justify the remark that the young Christian's course is pleasant; and especially when compared with the only other course which it was in his power to pursue. And finally, it is a successful course. His com- panions in age have had various objects in view, and have pursued them with great labor and perseverance. Some have been toiling for one worldly object, and some for another; and either the object of their pur- suit has not been attained, or, being attained, has been found unsatisfactory. And not improbably some YOUNG CHRISTIANS COURSE. 349 among them have already rendered their dying tes- timony to the folly and vanity of their pursuits. He, on the other hand, has succeeded in his eftbrts — I may say, has succeeded fully ; for he has been honored as the instrument of diffusing blessings around him, and he is an heir to "a crown of righteousness that fadeth not away." But in these remarks I anticipate a succeeding division of the discourse. Let me then, from the character of the young Christian's course, pass, II. To its close. The text contemplates it as finished. It is finished in a peaceful manner. It may be that the young Christian has often contemplated death as an object of dismay ; and though he may have been able to think of every other trial with composure, yet as often as he has thought of going down into the dark valley, he has been oppressed with fearful apprehension. But the terrors of death gradually diminish as his end draws near. His faith becomes more active, his hope more firm, his views of heaven stronger and brighter ; the promises of the gospel come home to his soul in all their reality, and richness, and power ; and he feels ready to breathe out his life in an act of thanksgiving to redeeming grace. He sees around him friends, it may be parents,, brothers, sisters, to whom he is united by the most endearing ties ; but he can cheerfully give them up for the community of friends to which he is gomg ; and he gives them up too, it may be, in the strong 30 350 YOUNG christian's COURSE. confidence that they will ere long be his companions in glory. The world, its objects, and interests, gra- dually fade upon his vision, till he falls calmly and sweetly to rest, and the place that has known him hitherto knows him no more. But the close of the young Christian's course is often more than peaceful — it \^ joyful and triumph- ant. The soul, as it approaches the hour of final conflict, sometimes gathers surprising strength ; and is enabled to raise the shout of victory, while it is not yet dislodged from its earthly tabernacle. Such are the visions of glory that entrance the departing spirit, that the agony of dying appears lighter than nothing; — it is even forgotten, till the soul is re- minded that it is past, by finding itself among those whose robes are washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb. Often have I seen the young Chris- tian, and sometimes even the naturally timid female, breathing out her spirit on the bed of death with un- utterable transport ; committing herself into her Redeemer's hands, not merely without a chill of dis- trust, but with the joyful, thankful exclamation — "I know in whom I have believed :" and when I have seen and heard this, I have wished that I might bring every thoughtless youth around me as a spectator of the scenes of that dying bed ; not doubting that each one in view of it must say, "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his !" Nevertheless, the close of the young Christian's course, peaceful and even triumphant as it may be, is humhle. For he realizes strongly — probably more strongly than at any preceding period of his life — that in his best attempts to serve his Master, • YOUNG CHRISTIANS COURSE. 35I he has been but an unprofitable servant. When he thinks of the waywardness, the listlessness, the incon- stancy, by which even his religious life has been marked, and then of that grace which has all along been manifested to keep him from final apostacy, and then of the peace and joy which he is permitted to experience in his last moments, and finally glances the eye of faith onward to the glories which await him in heaven ; in a word, when he reflects that all that enters into the work of his salvation is grace — rich grace, and that instead of leaving the world in triumph, he deserves to leave it in despair, and to go down to the world of despair; — when he thinks of all this, I say, he desires, amid all the glory of dying in the Lord, to lie at the foot of the cross, and with his last breath, to give to God all the praise of his salvation. " Not unto me, who am less than the least of all saints," is the language of his soul, "but to thy great name, Merciful Redeemer, to the efficacy of thy blood — to the power of thy grace — to the merit of thy intercession, be all the honor of my redemption from the eternal pit, and of my exalta- tion to that throne of light which awaits me in heaven !" And finally, under this article, the young Chris- tian finishes his course in a manner that is honorable to religion. It may be that some of the thoughtless youth around him have called his piety by the hard name of hypocrisy or fanaticism ; but if they are present to witness his closing scene, they have evi- dence that they were in a most wretched mistake. Here they see that the religion which he had ex- hibited in life, is an all-sustaining principle ; that the 352 YOUNG Saviour whom he had served by a course of self- denying obedience, fulfils his promise to be his stay and his staff in the dark valley. And such a scene, if any thing, is fitted to impress them with the reali- ties of eternity, and to awaken them to an inquiry concerning their own salvation. It is fitted, too, to strengthen the faith, and quicken the obedience of Christians, and especially of their young Christian friends, who may be present to witness their depart- ure, and who are to remain yet longer in the field of conflict, before they are dismissed for their reward. More than once has the triumphant death of a young Christian carried conviction to the heart even of the scofier and of the profligate : often has it brought the anxious yet lingering inquirer to a decision on the great question that has involved his immortal in- terests ; and where is the Christian who has witnessed such a scene, who will not testify that it has dimi- nished his attachment to the world, and strengthened his confidence in his Redeemer, and rendered the gospel more precious to him, as containing a death- bed religion ? In whatever other circumstances the infidel may scoff at the religion of Jesus, he cannot — I had almost said, even if he had the malignity of a fallen spirit — he cannot revile this religion, as it is acted out in the peace and joy Avith which the young Christian often yields up his soul into the hands of his Redeemer. III. Let me now, in the third place, call your attention, for a few moments, to the consequences of the young Christian's course. These we will con- YOUNG CHRISTIANS COURSE. 353 sider in relation to himself, and in relation to the world. His course is followed by most important bless- ings to himself. It is a blessing, a rich blessing, to be able to leave behind us a good name ; to live after we are dead, in the grateful and affectionate re- membrance of those who survive us. The voice of popular applause which sometimes rings in shouts at the virtues, and even at the vices of men, and which, by a slight change of circumstances, can be changed into the voice of execration, is indeed an unimport- ant matter, and is rather to be deprecated than de- sired. But to desire that our memories may be em- balmed in the hearts of the wise and good, that we may be spoken of with gratitude and kindness, as having lived for the benefit of our fellow-men — this is a genuine dictate of nature; and perhaps there is no degree of depravity that can dislodge this original desire from the breast. I say then, it is a delightful consequence of the course which the young Chris- tian has pursued, that it secures to him a good name after he is dead : it secures to him a place in the af- fections of all in whose affections a good man would desire to live. When his neighbors and acquaint- ances come to unite in a prayer around his unburied remains, and then go and see them deposited in the grave, that funeral service will not be, as in many other cases, a dull formality; but you will see that many hearts are in it, and that there are many out of the circle of near friends, who feel that they have sus- tained a loss. And long after the grave has closed upon his remains, those who knew him — especially those who have been benefited by his counsels, or 30* 354 YOUNG CHRISTIAN'S COURSE. example, or prayers, will delight to dwell on his memory, and will speak of that as a dark dispensation by which so much Christian promise, so many budding hopes, were prematurely blasted. Yes, though his course has been brief, it has been so bright, and holy, and useful, that it cannot soon be forgotten: the record of what he was will remain fair in many hearts, when the moss shall have grown over his tomb-stone, and the worm shall have revelled upon his body. But fir richer blessings than these are to crown the young Christian's course — the blessings which are to fall upon the path of his whole future exist- ence. For the moment that death has done its work — yes, at that moment when the bosom of surviving friendship heaves its heaviest sigh — his spirit is be- fore the throne of God ; an innumerable multitude of glorified beings welcome his arrival ; the songs of redemption tremble on his ear ; the glories of the upper world blaze upon his eye. From all doubt, and sin, and sorrow, he finds himself for ever set free : he has become an inhabitant of a world of light, in Avhich he can contemplate even the unveiled glory of God; — of a world of purity, in which there is not a vestige of any thing that defileth ; — of a world of joy, in which all tears are wiped away. His character is that of a glorified immortal ; his residence is the third heavens ; his employment, un- ceasing praise to God and the Lamb ; his society, the general assembly and church of the first-born, an innumerable company of angels, Jesus, the Mediator of the new covenant, and God, the Judge and Father of all. And where, during this period of the soul's perfec- YOUNG CHRISTIANS COURSE. 355 tion, is his body ? Slumbering in the grave ; it may be, dissolved into its original elements, and scattered to the winds. But shall it always be thus ? No : the voice of the archangel shall wake that slumber- ing dust, and collect and reorganize it, by an al- mighty energy ; and instead of being a corrupt ble body, it shall be an incorruptible one ; and it shall be united to that glorified spirit ; and the whole man shall be brought into judgment: and shall recog- nise in the Judge a Redeemer and Friend ; and shall hear the sentence of acquittal and reward ; and then shall advance onward into the ages of eternity, clothed with the splendors of immortal beauty. Say then, are not the consequences of the young Chris- tian's course glorious to himself? If it were a per- petual scene of wretchedness, unmitigated by the least consolation, and were always to terminate amid the fires, and agonies, and horrors, of martyrdom, tell me, whether it were not wise to incur this, and a thousand fold more than this, for the sake of obtain- ing such a reward? But the course of the young Christian is ordinarily followed by rich blessings to others. For though he has lived but a little Avhile, he has not lived in vain. He has lived long enough, and been a Christian long enough, to sow some seed that shall bear fruit unto eternal life. Perhaps his holy example and faithful efforts in the family, have been blessed to the salva- tion of some of its members. Or perhaps his labors in the Sabbath school have been crowned, in an un- usual degree, with the divine blessing; and have been the means of bringing many children to love their Creator and Redeemer. Or perhaps he has been the instrument of reclaiming some of his former thought- less associates from haunts of irreligion and habits of levity, and bringing them to attend seriously to the concerns of their souls. Or he may have been the parent of some benevolent institution, which will live and continue its operations long after he is dead, and perhaps into the ages of the millenium. In either or all of these ways, he may have labored in the cause of Christ; and when it is recollected that influence is, from its very nature, progressive and accumulative, how much, think you, may he be found to have done, in the end of the world, for the benefit of his fellow-creatures ? On how many myriads of souls may the labors of a few short years, it may be of a single year, tell, in the whole progress of his being 1 I ask, are not the consequences of this brief course, to the world, as well as to himself, literally incalculable ? Who will not say, on a review of this subject, that it furnishes a powerful argument to every young Christian, for persevering diligence in the service of his Master ? You have entered on a course which, for aught you know, may very speedily be closed. If you could read what is written concern- ing you in the book of God's secret counsels, you might possibly know that you have almost reached the limit of your probation ; that you are on the eve of going to render up your account. I know that you desire to finish your course with joy. I kno^v that you desire that it may truly be said of you, after you are dead, that your life has been a blessing to the world. I know that you desire to crowd into this little period as much of service as you can, to YOUNG CHRISTIANS COURSE. 357 that Saviour who has died to purchase the reward to which you are looking forward. Well then, if your days are so rapidly passing, ^vhat remains but that you should, during the residue of life, consecrate all your powers to the honor of your Master. Dream not, my young friends, that the course of a mere nominal Christian can terminated in joy and glory. Dream not that the forms of religion can be safely substituted for its life and power. Remember that nothing but practical godlines will stand, when flesh and heart fail. See to it, that your course be the course of the humble, self-denied, devoted Christian ; then will its termination be happy ; and its conse- quences, to you and the world, in time and in eternity, unutterably glorious. But if this subject supplies a powerful argument to the young Christian, for a devoted religious life, it furnishes an argument equally powerful to every irreligious youth, to become immediately reconciled to God. Tell me, my young friends, whether the course which has now been presented before you, does not, in every respect, approve itself to your judgment, more than that which you hitherto have been, and still are, pursuing. What though there may be self-denial, and conflict, and bitter repent- ance, in a life of religion ; yet are you not satisfied that it has, on the whole, greatly the advantage, even on the score of happiness, of a life of sinful indulg- ence ; and is it not, in the view of all whose good opinion is worth possessing — nay, is it not, in the sober judgment of your own conscience, far more honorable? But suppose, as it respects both hap- piness and honor in this world, they were alike ; 358 YOUNG CHRISTIANS COURSE. which course, think you, is the most desirable in its close ? Would you rather have in the hour of death the remorse, the wretchedness, the fearful anticipa- tions, which impenitence begets, or the peace that passeth understanding, the hope full of immortality, the joy unspeakable and full of glory, which are in- spired by the review of a life that has been devoted to the service of Christ? And after you are dead, would you rather have it said of you, that you had lived for the benefit of your fellow-men, or that you had lived for the gratification of self? And in eter- nity, would you choose to be associated with seraphs or with fiends ; to be employed in wailing or in praise ; to have a part in the resurrection of life, or in the resurrection of damnation? I am sure not one of you can hesitate in what manner to answer these questions ; not one of you but must feel that the lot of the righteous is infinitely to be preferred before that of the wicked: — I venture even to add, not one of you but intends ere long to make the lot of the righteous his own. I warn you then, once more, that there is no time to be lost. Not an hour passes, but your immortal interests are in jeopardy. Yield yourselves then to the service of God without delay ; and though you should die early, you will die safely and peacefully ; will die to live and reign with Christ on his throne for ever and ever. I here close the series of discourses, my young friends, which have, for a considerable time, occupied you, and which have been designed for your special benefit. I may be permitted to say that I have been gratified, in no small degree, by the respectful atten- tion you have rendered them ; and nothing now YOUNG christian's COURSE. 359 remains, on my part, but that I should commend them to your serious recollection, and to the blessing of Almighty God. It shall be my earnest prayer — and I invite you to join me in it — that this effort made for your salvation may be crowned by the in- fluence of the Holy Spirit ; and that in the day when we shall meet to testify how I have preached, and how you have heard, it may appear to our mutual and everlasting joy, that this course of instruction which is now closed, has been to some of you — to many of you — to all of you, a savor of life unto life.