^ • •¿^~. y y^cce^^ g/ , fc^T ^^,
^1^. y ^Ai''^r y y^Íu^ ¡y y^e<^ . Ay¿ty¿¿t-^ y
yyyy y
?^A/t¿yá: Ay 4íyyjL^ yyy¿^.
V^y3etyv\Jy¿try y^y^yf y A^t,^ . ^ty¿ty¿ÍA^ _,
'y?^ \^y^l^,yyJU¿y A/^p/ /A-tyy4t^ ,
-J^A y^y.
'^y^a^y^yU^ y*.
y^, 0^! ^ ' X^AyÓt^^ ^y^Ac^y^ .<t K.yi<»yJ ^
I /A ¿^^4<Úyyfí^ 'i^>'-*tv-ÄElL^ .¡¿^C-,
^^ ¿L- y?cfty¿»\.y^ (^LeyCyCy .>^-ît—*—> , .
yj^o/?^- 24AiAA^t^A^*^, —/r-xJLfß" ,
- M » "TiTPIaJu ^ «¿*-0 ,
/?^~" ^^(/UALaa^A^ ÍA^
.:^7~. /í>*AUri Au-AUjUMyyy> O^cMZJÜ
4^ /^tY-, eôyttb ty y^ '^yit^Cúy Ô^'KyytA ,
?. «^Ä" £¿JUyÁí/ ,#v> /.
p/ ¿L- ■ - ey ^¿AU.AA£A^^ CU^.áyQy^.^ ?
p. M,^. üu / Ä--/ yí!^ /S^ÂaLuIa^ ■
t. c¿.
^Auyty ^t yyó y^
Me, 2. yyjâ,
¿ct^. /yù2.
Ay
yyj¿.
tÁí,iy„ /yj4.
X.,^, Ayj^.
íiY^<P- fy^o.
ßtA. jfi, /fi^o .
ÂyÇ yj. yys^,
ihyMy n. mJ-:
oJ-, /. /yzf.
a^My 2/> jé>zs>-r
/y22.
. /. /yj¿.
^JxJiyy. XO , '•
y^. z¿. /yjy.
Oc.
J-
,♦
9
*
-A!?» /
—^ ^ tA Ä
7
rREACHED AT
KING'S CHAPEL, BOSTON,
SEPTEMBER 9; 1813^
THE DAT OF THE
NATIONAL FAST.
BY SAMUEL CART,
OHE OF THE MINUTEES OF THE CHAFEl.
Nihil e$t qttod moiteam ; nemo est tain staltus qni non intelligat, si
indormierimos huio tempori, non modo erudelem soperharoqoe
dominationem nobis, sed igaomimosam etiam et flagitiosam esse
ferendam. cic.
BOSTON;
POBLISHED BY ISAIAH THOMAS, JUN.
1813.
PSALM CTÍ. 4, 5.
0 VISIT MB WITH THV SALVATION, THAT I MAT SEE THE
1 '
eOOD OF THT CHOSEN, THAT I MAT REJOICE IN THE
GLADNESS OF THT NATION, THAT I MAT OLORT WITH
THINE INHERITANCE.
This is the language of generous and
sincere patriotism,—of a man whose heart was de¬
voted to his country, and who was accustomed
to consider its welfare as inseparable from his
own. It is a noble spirit which thus indentifies
individual and public prosperity, which rejoices
in the national gladness, and is depressed by its
adversity, and is fired by its disgrace ; which
feels the indignities that are offered to it as
a private injury, and is ready to make the most
heroic sacrifices for its good, and presses for¬
ward eagerly to defend it against danger. Noth-
6
■ ' I
ing can be «nore honorable to thç, huinan charaç-
I . *
ter, for it is opposed to every Jnean and selfish
affection ; it is pure, disinterested and liberal ; it
is the most glorious form of benevolence ; it
flourishes in a soil, enriched by the choicest
dews and the purest light of Heaven.
This feeling, which is sometimes denomina¬
ted patriotisMf and sometimes public spirit,
and sometimes political virtue, is the great sup¬
port of all republican governments. There nev¬
er has been an instance of a commonwealth,
which was able to sustain itself, after this vi¬
tal principle had been extinguished. In a re¬
public, where the supreme authority is vested in
I
the ^at body of the people, all of whom are at
liberty to exert their talents an such pursuits
as please them, and who can be restrained no
farther than they themselves choose to be re-'
strmned, it is obvious that there must exista
sacred regard to the mutual Ínteres^ of one
another, and to the good of ihe whole. So long
as the selfish is compelled to ^ve way to the so¬
cial principle ; so long as the laws by which the
7
society is governed are made with a view to the
general accommodation; and are obeyed from a
desire of promoting in this manner the general
happiness ^ so long as the people feel that deep
interest in the national success and glory which
makes them attentive to the manner in which
they may be increased; and jealous of every at<
tempt to obstruct or lessen them; the community
will flourish. All the advantages belonging to
this peculiar form of government will be felt uni¬
versally. The blessings of rational liberty will be
perceived in the maturity of all those arts which
are useful to mankind. The power of the state
will be entrusted to its most wise and most vir¬
tuous citizens ; and all the abilities; the wealth,
and strength of the individuals will be placed at
the disposal; and be made to subserve the interests
of the whole. But when this patriotic spirit is
gone when the public good is forgotten; and the
community is split into a multitude of clashing
interests ; and every individual is solely intent
upon himself; and upon securing the power of
the state; for the sake of making it subservient to
8
his own views ; when the glory of the nation,
and that of the individual, or the party, are total¬
ly distinct, and the sufferings of separate por¬
tions of the citizens are unheeded, and malignant
passions have gained a frightful ascendancy,
and there is on the one side nothing but tyran¬
ny, and on the other nothing but oppression,—
then the republic must fall. The supreme au-
thority is not then wielded by the people them¬
selves, but by corrupt individuals. The name of
liberty and perhaps some of its forms may for a
time exist. The mass of citizens may believe
themselves secure, because they always hear
most of their power, and privileges, and safety,
when the danger is nearest. But the struggles
of contending and inflamed factions are deadly ;
and the community having lost the power of
governing itself, and distracted by internal ani¬
mosities, throws itself into the hands of the con-
queror and holds its privileges at his mercy.
There is no possible mode of arresting or ward- ^
ing oflf this evil. There is no superior power to
counteract the influence of popular depravity.
9
t
«
The ^uprem^, power is ia the people^ who |M«
hound together bj nothing but the love of country,
nnd can he ^strained by nothing but virtue.
A despoUc government may support itself,
*
%
notwithstanding the general prevalence of cor-
ruption. A tyrant may, prevent it from affect¬
ing his own safety, by force or by terror j or, if
he should fall fi victim, the sceptre is only trans-
ieited to another hand ; the throne itself remains
unshaken. But in a republic, when the connect-
*
ing bond of {^riotism is dissolved, the govern¬
ment is utterly subverted. The fact is uniform,
that the virtus of ¡the people and the power, of
the people decsy and perish together. I^ook at
the declining years of the Roman commonwealth.
Why was it utterly impossible for liberty to sub¬
sist among that once free and powerful people ?
Because their patriotism was gone ; because the
glory of the republic was no longer the object
of universal idolatry ; because personal a^ran-
disement was the paramount desire (ff the citi-
* *
zens, and th0 public good was sacrificed to the
fury of mutual animosities ; because, instead of
«
10
the exalted sentiments and the simple and pure
I
manners which prevailed in the better days of
Rome; the people had become corrupted by too
much prosperity, and suffered themselves to be
guided by profligate leaders, and cheerfully sold
f
themselves and their votes to the highest bid.
«
der. They were unworthy of being free ; they
had prepared themselves for the yoke ; they
felt the miseries of a popular government with,
out virtue; and they fled for protection to a
master and to chains. Their liberties, it is
true, were not yielded without a severe strug¬
gle. The discerning and upright men, who
saw the tendency of affairs, exerted all their
strength and all their eloquence to save the
commonwealth. But it was too late. The fa¬
tal blow had been given by the general deprav¬
ity. The sacrifice was completed by the blood
of these excellent citizens ; and the stroke which
terminated the life of Cicero, extinguished the
liberty of his country.
This decay of patriotism must be considered
therefore as one of the surest marks of the de-
<1
«
11
»
cline of a republic. And whenever it is observ¬
able among ourselves ; whenever the time shall
come when the people have no pleasure in the
national successes, and no mortification in its dis¬
honour ; or which is the same thing, when the
«
government is administered so unfaithfully, that
its prosperity is not the prosperity of the whole
communhy, and with so much indifference to jus¬
tice and to religion, that the good can neither
pray for, nor rejoice in its success,—then the glo¬
ry of this republic and its safety are departing^
it trembles upon its base ^ and it will be shatter¬
ed to fragments in its fall.
1 will now point out the manner in which pa¬
triotism or political virtue may become extinct
in the great body of the people ; particularly of
a republic.
One cause of this is found in the too great ex¬
tent of its territory, and in the multitude of local
interests and prejudices, which exist in such a
state. In order to love their country, it is indis¬
pensable that the people should have some dis¬
tinct ideas of th e country itself ^ that it should
IS
not be an object too great and too^ complex for
tbeir understandings ; that its several parts
should be within reach of each other's sympathy ;
that they should be near enough for the people
to perceive the common bond or the common in¬
terest which unites them. In a territory of mod-
erate extent, this general interest is easily per-
eeived and felt. The people are known to one
»
another. They see how essential is the welfare
of the whole to that of the parts. They are as¬
sociated by similar customs, by consanguinity^
I
by the same language. The parts are not re¬
pelled from each other by mutual contempt or
jealousy ^ and if among the different classes
which make up the community, there are to be
found occasional and violent contentions, yet
these things do not affect the public spirit of the
people ; they still can perceive and rejoice that
these envied or despised classes are instruments
of general prosperity.
But it is impossible that this common interest
should be felt, or even that it should exist, where
the people who exercise the supreme power are
13
scattered ovei^ remote regions ;—^where the diflfer-
ent portions of this great community are totally
T •
distinct from each other ; where the patriotism
of each is confined within its own peculiar sphere,
associated with its own views, customs and poli¬
cy 5 and cherished by a strong contempt for the
welfare and the rights of other sections, and a
determination to depress them. There can be
nothing like public spirit among such a hetero¬
geneous, such a discordant mass of people ;
because there is no one object to which the eyes
of all may be directed ; no one feeling or soul
to animate the whole. It is not in this case as
in the human body, that when one member
suffers, all the members suffer with it, and when
one rejoices all the others rejoice tvith it.''
Here the sufferings of one, or its lameness, or
its decay, may be an object of extravagant ex¬
ultation to the others. The mutual and bitter
jealousies which subsist among them all ; the
t
mutual consciousnsess, that each is regarded
with little friendliness by its companions, that
its welfare is neither promoted nor understood by
14
them, that its very strength and resources are
marked as the prey, and are encouraged only as
«
they may be serviceable to the views of the
rest, must necessarily extinguish the generous
feelings of the people. And the consequence
will be, that some few will get possession of the
«
supreme power, and the rest must either become
mere tributaries, or establish a new and distinct
government in the blood of their citizens.
Another cause of the decay of political virtue
or patriotism in a republic, is a want of confi¬
dence in the integçty of its government. If the
power is in the hands of upright men, who feel
that their OAvn glory depends upon the public
felicity, who extend their protection indiscrim¬
inately to every citizen who deserves it ; and who
endeavour by their conduct, their laws, their pol-
icy, to improve the good affections and the good
0
morals of the people ; they will then love their
country. It is worthy of their love ; it is the
source of all their happiness ; it is a kind mother
who watches, and guards, and pities, and sup¬
ports her children. Their patriotism will be a
i5
confirmed and constant principle of action.
They will do and suffer every thing for what
they love so ardently. A commonwealth made
up of such citizens is invincible. ^
But it is the misfortune of popular gov¬
ernments to be more exposed than any other,
t
to fall into the hands of men whose peculiar
interests are promoted rather by the eorrup-
iiott than the improvement of public virtue.
Where every individual perceives that the
power of the state is within his reach, his
ambition is at once inflamed. If his under¬
standing or his integrity give him no claim to
distinction, he learns to intrigue with the pop-
•
ulace. He represents the best men in the com¬
munity as their malignant enemies. He flatters
their mean passions, their envy of those who are
more privileged tiian themselves, tiieir vanity,
their love of importance, their cupidity. He
knows that while virtue exists among the peo-
«
pie, the virtuous will be honoured. His business
therefore is to excite all the malignant passions
and to destroy all reverence for purity of senti-
i6
inent and morals ;—it is on tlie stp>eamjOf popular
cormption that he is carried to power. * '
AVhen therefore men of this character are in
possession of the government^ eai^ M'e wonder
that public spirit should be withered by their in¬
fluence ? The people then see that the good of
the whole community is not, as it ought to be, the
principal object of their rulers ; that they hav^
obtained their power, and are using it, for most
unhallowed purposes ^ that to these purposes ev¬
ery thing is sacrificed. They see that they have
»
nothing to hope from the justice of the-men u'hom
they are bound to obey, from their liberal views,
from their generous affections, from their love
of real glory ; that to be distinguished for in¬
flexible uprightness, to serve the state by hon¬
orable enterprise, to enlighten the public mind^
to watch and expose the progress of the ene¬
mies of its prosperity is no longer the path to
favour. They perceive that the laws are partial
and oppressive ; that all the blessings and all
the safety and all the honour of freedom are
gone ; and that the rulers, who presume on the
17
popular credulity, aud are Tersed in those ar'
tifices by which the thouglitless are deluded,
are in fact securing to themselves a permanent
and unlawful influence at the expence of the
general happiness. They find themselves de.
prived of the power of pursuing their chosen em-
ploymeirts ; incapable of gaining even the means
of subsistence honourably; pinched and dis.
mayed by the constant pressure of hardships
which are peither deserved, nor are ultimately
conducive to their good, nor are lightened by any
consolations. When a people are thus driven
by the perfidy of their government into deprav.
ity ; when they have lost all confidence in its vir¬
tue, are we to expect them to be patriots ? They
cannot avoid associating the country with its ru¬
lers ; they cannot love the source of such un¬
merited calamities ; they cannot exult in that
success and that prosperity which serves only to
seal their ruin.
A farther cause of the decline of public spirit
' in the body of a people is the national disgrace.
When good citizens are ashamed of their coun-
S
18
try ; when they perceive that either by the cor¬
ruption of the people, or by the cowardly and
selfish conduct of the government, the nation is
no longer entitled to the reverence of mankind,
and has lost it ; when the name of the republic
no longer excites a feeling of generous enthusi¬
asm ; and they must hear the contemptuous lan¬
guage of its enemies, with a bitter consciousness
that what they hear is only the truth, and with¬
out the power of honestly repelling it ; be assiir-
ed that the flame of patriotism is expiring.
The great motive to honourable exertion has
lost its force. Instead of that magnanimity,
those high and noble sentiments, that confidence
in the public worth and dignity, which are the
pillars of national greatness, there has succeed¬
ed a groveling sense of shame and of degenera¬
cy. The people are disheartened $ the good
and the great retire into concealment ; the arts
which expand the soul and exalt and adorn it
cease to be encouraged. The men of powerful
and honest minds will not devote their talents to
«
t
i9
blazon the infamy of their country that peo¬
ple are prepared to be slaves.
My iNrethren, let us tremble when the spirit
of patriotism is declining among ourselves.
a
There is no difficulty in perceiving that all these
causes of its decline are to a certain degree in ac¬
tual operation. If they should succeed in de-
«
basing the minds of the people ;—^if the immense
extent of our territory and its innumerable con¬
tending interests ; if the treachery and selfishness
of the government; or the national disgrace
should make them more devoted to private and
paltry emoluments; than to their country;—^utter¬
ly indifferent to the general honour and prosper! -
ty ; then the effect we have already described
4
will be inevitable. Let us hope that political
virtue is not yet extinguished. In this part of
the country at least; the wise and good are in
authority; and like the last patriots of Rome are
s
struggling for the commonwealth and for liber¬
ty. God grant that they may be successful.
Let it be the prayer of us all; that God would
»
âo
visit us with his salvation, that he would eheck
»
the flood of corruption which threatens to ov^-
whelm US; and give us rulers who fear him and
hate covetonsness ;—^then indeed; in tlie lan¬
guage of David in our text; we may reyoice in
the gladness of our nation ,• we may glory in its
successes.
KLIOT, PRINTER*
A
DISCOURSE,
DELIVERED AT PORTLAND, MAY 5, 1814 j
BEFORE
THE BIBLE SOCIETY OF MAINE,
»
RT THEIR ANNUAL MEETING«
BY EDWARD PAYSON,
PASTOR OP THB SECOND CllüRCH IN PORTLAND,
PUBLISHED nr EEilUESI'''
PORTLAND :
PRINTED BY ARTHUR SHIRLEY.
1814.
A DISCOURSE, &c.
%
There are two objects, which a speaker who ad¬
dresses his fellow-beings on an occasion like the present,
ought ever to keep in view. Of these objects the first,
and, with respect to his hearers, the most important, is,
to induce them to prize as it deserves, a volume, which
notwithstanding its unrivalled claims to attention, is too
generally neglected. The second is, to procure their
assistance, in gratuitously distributing this volume
among their destitute fellow-creatures. These objects,
though distinct, are intimately connected ; for if we can
be induced suitably to prize the sacred scriptures our¬
selves, there will be little difficulty in persuading us to
aid, in communicating them to others ; and there is but
too much reason for presuming, that he who is not de¬
sirous, to impart this treasure tp all around him, knows
nothing of its real value, nor of the temper, which it is
designed to produce.
With respect to à part, and we trust a very consider¬
able part of the present assembly, the objects, which we
have mentionedr may be considered as already attained.
There are, we doubt not, many before us, who entertain
a profound veneration for the Bible ; and in whose
breasts it has an advocate, who pleads its cause, and
that of the destitute, far more powerfully and success¬
fully, than we can do. To such persons, nothing need
be said in fiivor of a book, which not only affords then
support and consolation under tlie troubles of life, bui
enables them to contemplate death with pleasure, and
to boitow its own language, makes them ' ' wise unte
salvation." .If all present are of this description, oui
object is obtrined ; and farther remarks are needless
4
»
But it is presumable, that in eveiy assembly, many are
to bé found, who, through inattention to the subject, or
from some other cause, have formed veiy inadequate
conceptions of the worth of this volume ; and who, cwi-
sequently, do not feel the ihïuiite importance of putting
it into the hands of others. It is also notodous, that
eveu among such as profess to venerate the scriptures,
there are not a few, who seem to regard them as defi¬
cient in those qualities, which excite mterest and atten¬
tion. It may . not be improper, therefore. On an occasion
like the present, to ma^e a few remarks with a design
to shew, tliat while t^ scriptures are incalculably valu¬
able and important, viewed as a revelation from heaven ;
they are also in a very high degree interesting and de¬
serving of attention, considered merely as a human com-
. position. As the whole volume of scripture will form
the subject of these remarks, it was thought unnecessa¬
ry to select any particular part oí it as a text. • ■
Were we permitted to adduce the testimony of
scriptures in their pwn favor, as a proof tlwt their con¬
tents are highly interesting, our task would be short, and
easily accompfished. But it is possible, that to this tes¬
timony some might think it a sufEicient reply, to apos¬
trophize the sacred volume in the language of the cap¬
tious Jews to our Saviour ;—" Thou bearest record of
^ ^
thyself ; thy record js not true." No similar objection
can be urged, however, against our availing ourselves of
the testimony, which emment uninspired men have borne
in favor of the scriptures. .From the almost innumera¬
ble testimonies of , this nature, which might easily be
, adduced, we shall select only that of Sir William Jones,
a Judge of the supreme court of judicature in Bengal—
a man, says his learned biographer, who, l)y the exer¬
tion of rare intellectual talents,; acquired a knowledge of
arts, sciences, and languages, which has seldom been
equalled, and scarcely, if ever, surpassed.« I have ctne-
. k ^ '
I
«
fully and regularly perused the scriptufes, ^ys this tru«
ly great man» and am of opinion, that this volume, inde¬
pendent of its divine origin, contains more sublimity,
purer morality, more important history, and fine^ strains
of eloquei]|ce, than can be collected from all other books,
in whatever language they may have been written. How
well he was qualified to make this remark, and how
much it implied in his lips, may be inferred from the
fact, that he was acquainted with twenty-eight different
languages, and with the best works, which had been
published in most of them. That a volume, which, in
the opinion of such a man, is thus superior to all other,
books united, cannot be so in^pid and uninteresting a
composition, as many seem to imagine, it must be need¬
less to remark. That his praises, though great and un¬
qualified, are in no respect unmerited, it would be easy,
were it necessary, to prove, by appropriate quotations
from the book which he so highly extols. But its moi*-
ality will be more properly considered in a subsequent
part of this discourse ; and its unrivalled eloquence and
sublimiQr are too öbviousj and too generally acknowl¬
edged, to require illustration. If any imagine that he has
estimated too highly, the historicsd information which
this volume contains, wc would only request them to
peruse it with attention ; and particularly to consider the
assistance which it affords, in accounting for many oth-
erwise inexplicaUe phenomena, in tiie natural, political,
and moral world. A person who has never attended to
the subject, wiU, on recollection, be surprised to find,
for how large a proportion of his knowledge, he is in¬
debted to this neglected book*. It is the only book
■ which satis&ctorily accounts, or even professes to ac¬
count, for the introduction of natural and moral evil into
the world, and for the consequent present situation of
• , a
• ®
* It will be recollected, that we here refer to such informaUpa
only, as uhinspired tnen might communicate. '
I * ^
»
6
iiumkind. l^o this book we are also indebted, ior all
our knowledge of the progenitors of our race, and of the
early ages of the world ;—for our acquaintance with the
jnanners and customs of those ages ;—^for the origin and
explanation of many remarkable traditions, which have
extensively prevailed, and for almost every thing which
is known, of many once flourishing nations ^ especial¬
ly of the Jews, the most singular and interesting peo¬
ple, perhaps, that ever existed. It is the Bible alone,
which, by informing us of the deluge, enables us to ac¬
count satisflictorily, for many surprising appearances in
the internal structure of the earth, as well as for the ex¬
istence of marine exuvise on the summits of mountains,
and in other places £ir distant from the sea. By the
same volume we are assisted in accounting for the mul¬
tiplicity of languages, which exist in the world fen* the
degraded condition of the Africans ;—^for the origin and
universal prevalence of sacrifices ; and many other facts,
of an equally interesting nature. We shall only add,
that while the scriptures throw light on the facts here
alluded to, the existence of these &cts powerfully tends,
on the other hand, to establish the truth and authenticity
. of the scriptures.
In addition to these intrinsic excellencies of the Bible,
which give it, considered merely as a human produc¬
tion, powerful claims to the attention of persons of taste
and learning, there are various circumstances, of an ad¬
ventitious nature, whidi render it peculiarly interesting
to a reflectiag mind. Among these circumstances we
. may, perhaps, not improperly, mention its great antiqui-
. ty. Whatever may be said of its inspiration, some of
the books, which compose it, are unquestionably the
most ancient literary compositions extant, and, perhaps,
the most ancient that ever were written ; nor is it very
improbable, that letters were first employed in record¬
ing some parts of them, and that they were written in
7
the language, first spoken 1^ man. It is also not only
the most ancient book, but Üie most ancient monument
of human exertion, the eldest t^I^ring of human intel¬
lect, now in existence; Unlike the ot^r works of man,
it inherits not his fi:ailty. All the cotemporaries of its
infancy have long since pmshed and are forgotten. Yet
this wonderful volume still survives. Like the fiibled
pillars of Seth, which are said to have bid defiance to
the deluge, it has stood, fbr ages, unmoved in the midst
of that flood, which sweeps away men, with their labors,
into oblivion. That these circumstences render it an
interesting object of contemplation, it is needless to re¬
mark. Were there now in existence a tree which was
planted ; an edifice which was erected ; or any monu¬
ment of human ingenuity which was formed, at that
early period, in which some parts of the Bible tvere
written, would it not be contemplated with the keenest
interest ; carefully preserved as a precious relic ; and
considered as something, little less dian sacred ? With
what emotions then will a thoughtful mind c^ten open
the Bible ; and what a train of interesting reflections, is
it, in this view, calculated to excite ? While we con¬
template its antiquity, exceeding that of every object
aroimd us, except the works of God, and view it, in
anticipation, as continuing to exist unaltered until the
end of time, must we not feel almost irresistibly impell¬
ed to venerate it, as proceeding originally from him,
"who is yesterday, to-day, and forever thé same ; and
whose works, like his years, fail not.
The interest, which tiiis volume excites by its anti¬
quity, will be greatly increased, if we consider the vio¬
lent and persevering opposition it has encountered ; and
the almost innumerable enemies it has resisted and over-
come. We contemiflate, with no ordinary degree of
interest, a rock, which has braved for centuries the
«
ocean's ragè, practically saying, " hitherto shalt thou
I
8
borne, but no farther ; and here shàil thy proud waves
be i^yed. " With still greater interest, though of a
somewhat different kind, should we contemplate a for"
tress, which, during thousands years, had been con»
standy assaulted by successive generations of enemies ;—
around whose walls millions had perished ;—and to
overthrow which, the utmost efforts of human force and
ingenuity had been exerted, in vain. Such a rock, such
a fortress, we contemplate in the Bible; For thousands
of years, this volume, has withstood, not only the iron
tooth of time, wdiich devours men, and their works to¬
gether, but all the physical and intellectual strength of
man. Pretended friends have endeavored to corrupt
and betray it ; kings and princes have perseveringly
sought to banish it from the world ; the civil and mili¬
tary powers of the greatest empires have beeii leagued
for its destruction ; the fires of persecution have often
been lighted to consume it, and its friends together ;
and, at many seasons, deaths in some horrid form^ has
tseen the almost certain consequence of affording it an
asylum from the fury of its enemies. It has also been
almost incessantly assailed by weapons of a different kind,
whic^, to any other book, would be far more dangerous
than fire pr sword. In these assaults, wit and ridicule
iiave wasted all their shafts ; misguided reason has been
Compelled though reluctantly to lend her aid, and, after
repeated defeats, has again been dragged to the field ;
the arsenals of learning have been emptied to arm her
for the contest ; and, in search of means to prosecute it
vrith success, recourse has been had, not only to remote
ages, and distant lands, but even to the bowels of the
earth, and the region of the stars. Yet still the object
of all these attacks remains uninjured ; while one army
of its assailants after another has melted away. Though
it has been ridiculed more bitterly, misrepresented more
grossly, opposed more rancorously, and burnt more
• *
§
è'equenuy» than any odier book, and, perhaps, than aÜ
other books united ; it is so &r from »nking under thé
bffurts of its enenüfö, that the probability of its surviving
until the final consummation of all things, is notv, evident¬
ly, much greater than ever; The rain has de&cëhdéâ ;
the floods have come ; the storm has arisen, and beat
upon it ; but it frlls not, for it is founded upoti a rock.
Like the burning bush, it has ever been in the flames^
yet is stin unconsumed ; a sufficient proof, were theré
no other, tíiat he who dwelt in the bush, preserves thé
Bible.
9 * I \
If thé opposition which this volume Has successfully
iencoüntered, rendere it an interesting object of contem¬
plation, the veneration which has been paid to it ; thé
tise which has bren made of it, änd the benefits tvhich
have been derived from it by the wise and good, in all
ages, make it still moré so. Who would not ysteem it
a most delightful privilege, to see and converse With a
man, who had lived through as many centuries as '
Biblé has existed ; who had conversed with all the suc¬
cessive generations of men, and been intimately acquaint- ,
ed with dieir hiotiVes, characters, and conduct ; who
had been the choseti friend and companion of tho wise
and good, in every age—the venerated monitor, to whose
example and instructions, thé wise had ascribed their
wisdom, and the virtuous theii' Virtues? What could
be moré interesting than the sight. What rdore pleasing
and instructive than the society, of such á man ? Yet such
society we may in eifeet enjoy, whenever we choose to
open the Bible. In this volume, we see the chosen
companion, the most intimate friend of the prophets, the ,
apostles, the martyfs^ and their pious cOtemporaries ;—■
the guide, whose directions they implicitly followed -
the monitor, to whose faithful warnings and instructions,
they ascribed their wisdom, their virtues, and their hap¬
piness. In this volume, we see the book, in whieh the
«
deliverer, thé ki»g, the sweet psalmist of ísraeí deligkt^
ed to meditate, day and night ; whose counsels made
him wiser than all his teachers ; and which he describes,-»
as sweeter than honey, and more preciods than gold«
This too is the book, for ..the sake of which our; piousr
ancestors forsook their native land and came to this then
desolate wilderness ; brmging it with them, aá their most
Valuable treasure, and, at death, bequeathing it to Us, as
the richest bequest, in their power to make. From this
' source, they, and millions more now in heaven, deriv¬
ed the strongest and pui«st consolation ; and scarcely
can we fix our attention on a single passage in this won^
derful book, which has not a^rded comfort or instruc¬
tion to thousands, and been wet with tears of penitential
sorrow or grateful joy, drawn from eyes that will weep
fto more. There is, probably, not an individual pres¬
ent, some of whose ancestors did not ,white on earth,
prize this'volume niore than life, and breatte many fer¬
vent prayers to heaven, that all their descendants, to the
latest generation, might be induced to ¡»ize it m a sim¬
ilar manner. Thousands, too, have sealed their belief
of its truth with their blood ; rejoicing to shed it in de¬
fence of a book, which, while it led them to the stake/
enabled them to triumph over its tortures. Nor have
its efiects been confined to individuals. Nations have
participated largely in its benefits. Armed with this
volume, which is at once sword and shield, the first her¬
alds of Christianity went forth conquering, and to con¬
quer. No less powerful than the wonder Working rod
of Moses, its touch crumNed into dust the temples of
paganism, and overthrew, as in a moment, the immense
fabric of superstition and idolatq-', which had been, for
»
ages, erecting. To this volume alone it is owing, that
we are not now assembled in the temple of an idol ; that
Stocks and stones are not our deities ; that cruelty, intem¬
perance and impurity do not constitute our religion i and
/
II
our children are not burnt as sâcrificçs at the shrinç
pf Moloch. To this volume we are also indebted for the
reformation in the days of Luther ; for the consequent
revival and progress of learning ; for our present free¬
dom ^m p^al tyranny, ^^or aré these benefits, great
as they are, ail wlUch it has been the means oi conferring
lOn inan. X^herever it coipes, blessings follow in its train^
l^ke tho stream, which diffuses itself, and is apparently,
lost among the herbage, it l^trays its coiirse by its efr
^ts. W hereyer its ^n^uence is felt, temperance,
dustry, and contentment prevail ; natural and moral evils
are banished, or mitigated^ and churches, hospitals, and
'asylums for almost every species of un-etphedness, a-
rise to adorn the landscape, and cheer the eye of benev¬
olence. Such are the temporal benefits, which even in¬
fidelity itself, if it woifid for once be candid, must ac-
knowledge, that the Bible has bestowed on man. Al¬
most coeval with the sun, its fittest eipblem, it lias,
like that luminary, from the commencement of its exis¬
tence, shed an unceasing flood of light on a benighted
mid wretched world. Who then can doubt, that he who
formed the siin, gave die Bible to be **a light unto our
^et, and a lamp to pur path." Who, that cmitemplates
thb fountmn, still full and overflowing, notwithstanding
the millions whb have drank of its waters, can doubt,
it has a real, though invisible connection with that
river of life, which flows, forever at the right hand of
Ood? >
Thus far we haye considered the Bible as merely a
human composition, though, as was unavoidable, some
< ^ 4 /
rays of divinit}' have, from time to time, burst through
the cloud, in which wp vainly attempted to shroud it.'
But if it be, in this view, thus valuable and interesting,
in what language shall wc describe the importance it
assumes,, when viewed as a revelation from God ;—^as
< .
the book which has guided millions of immortal beings^
12
• ^
tp lieaven as the hook which must guide us there, if,
we ever reach those mansions of eternal <îay ! That it is
so, we shall not at present attempt to proved In áddres?
sing such an assembly, on such an occasion, we have a
right, to take it for granted ;—4o proceed on thé suppor
sition, that you believe with thé apostle, that, " all scripr
iure is given by inspiration of God." Viewed in
this light, what finite naind can estimate its worth ; bt*
describe 'the reyerence and attention, with which it
ought, to be regarded ? The' ancient preeks had
one sentence, which they believed, diough without
foundation, to have descended from heaven ; and to
evince their gratitude and veneration for this gift, they
caused it to be engraven, in letters of gold, on the front
of their most sacred aiid magnificent temple. We, morç
favored, have-not a sentence only, but a volume, which
' really descended from heaven ; and which, whether wc
consider its contents, or its author, ought to indelibly
engraven on the hçiart of every child of Àdam* Its Àu^-
thor is the àiithoy of dur being v and its contents afford
us informátion, of the most satis&ctory and important
kind,dii subjects of infinite consequence; resecting
which, all other books afç either silent, or speak only
doubtfully "and úñautHoritatively. It informs us, with
the greatest clearness arid precision, of every thing nec¬
essary either to bur' present, or future happiness ;—of
eveiy thing, in fact j which its Arithbr knows, the knowl¬
edge of which wbuld be reàll^ useful to u's ; and thps
confers those benefits, which t^e tempter falsely pre¬
tended would restilt from eating the forbiddeii fruit ;
making us as gods, knowing good and evil. In the
fabulous records of pa^n ' antiquity, we read of a mir¬
ror, endowed with properties so rare, thatj by looking
into it, its possessor could discover any object which he
wished to see, however remote ; and discern with equal
ease, persons and tilings above, below, behind, and
13
i
»
|brc him. Such a mirror, but infinitely more valuable
than this fictitious glass, do we ^lly possess in (he Bi-
ble. By employing this mirror in a proper manner, we
may discern objects and events,' past, present, and to
come. Here we may contempkte thé äll-enfolding cir¬
cle of the Eternal mind ; and behold a most perfect per-
trait of Him, whom no mortal eye hath sëen^ drawii by
his own unerring hand. Piercing into the ^eepest re¬
cesses of eternity, we may behold Him existing indepen¬
dent and alone, previous to the first exertion of His cre¬
ating energy. We may see heaven, the habitation of
His holiness and glory, * Mark withthe excessive bright¬
ness" of his presence ; and hell, the prison of His jus¬
tice, with no other light than that, which the fiery bil¬
lows of his wrath cast, " pale and dreadful ; " serving
only to render, darkness visible." Here too, we may
witness the birth of the'world which we inhabit stand
as it were, by its cradle ; and see it grow up from in¬
fancy to manhood, under the forming hand oS its Creator,
We may see light at his summons starting into existence
and discovering a worid of waters, without a shore.
ContrdCed by His word, the watèrs subside ; and islands
and continents appear, not, as now, clothed with verdure
and fertility, but sterile, and nakéd as the sands of Ara¬
bia.' Again hé speaks ; and à landscape appears, unit¬
ing thé various beauties of spring, summer, and au¬
tumn; and extendmg farther than the eye can reach.
Still all is silent ; hot even the hum of insects is heard,
and the stillness of death pervades creation ; till, in an
instant, ^hgs burst from every grove ; and the startled
spectator,'raising his'eyes from thé carpet at his feet,
sees the air, the earth, and tlfe sea filled with life and ac¬
tivity, in a thousand various forms. Here too, we may
Contemplate the origin and infancy of our race ;—^trace
from its source to its termination that mighty river, of
which we compose a part ; and see ' it separating into
/
u
|wo great branches ; one of wlüch flows back in a cirt
cle, and loses itself in the fountain, whence it arose ;
whUe die otlier rushes on impetuously in an oppoáte
direction, and precipitates itself into a gulph* which has
no bottom. In this glass, we may also discover the
/ountain, whence flow thpse torrents of vice and wretch¬
edness which deluge the earth ^trace the glorious plan
.of Divine providence i^nning, like a stream of lightning,
through the dark and stormy cloud of sublunaiy events ;
and see light and order breaking in upon the' migh^
chaos of crimes, reycflutions, wars, úid convulsions,
which haVe ever distracted the world ; and which, to a
person unacquamted with the scriptures, must ever ap¬
pear to produce no beneficial effect ; but to succeet^
each other without order, and to happen without de»gn.
Here too, we may contemplate ourselves, in every con¬
ceivable situation and point of view See our hearts
laid open, and all thjcir secret recesses dbplayed ;-r-trace
as on a map, the paths which lead to heaven and to hell' ;
ascertain in which we are walking ; and learn, what we
have been, what we are, and what we sliall be hereafter.
Above all, we may here see displayed to view, that
Wonderful scheme for the redemption of self destroyed
inan, into which, angels desire to look and without
which the knowledge of God, and of ourselves, would
serve only tp plunge us in the depths of dispair. We
may behold Him, whom we had previously seen creat¬
ing the world, lying as a helpless infant in a manger )
fcxpiring in agonies on the cross ; and imprisoned in the
tomb. We, may see Him, rising,-r-ascending to heav¬
en,-^sitting down " at the right hand of the throne of
the Majesty on h^h and there swaying the sceptre of
tiniver£^ empire and ever living to make intercesión for
his people. Finally, we may see film, coming in the
clouds of heaven, with power and great glory, to judge
the-world. We may see die dead, at His commands
4 ♦ *
u
' I* ' ; . •
tising »OTti their graves ¡-^standing in awful silence and
suspense before His tribunal and Successively advan^
Cing, to receive from His Hps, the sentence, which will
confer on each of them sa eteráal wéight of glory, or
Consign ihenr forever to thé mandons of despair. Such
äre the scenes and objects, which the scriptures place
before us ^such the information which they afford.
Who wiU deny diat this information is important ; or
that h is such as we might naturally expect to find in ai
revelation from God ?
Equsdly important to the present, and future happiness
of man, are the precepts which the scriptures inculcate.
With the greatest clearness and precision ; and with an
authori^, to which no other book can j^etend, they
teach us our duty to God, to our fellow-creatures, and
to ourselves. That spiritual kingdom, whose laws they
jM'omulgate, consists in righteousness, and peace, and
joy in the Holy Ghost ; " and were these laws universal¬
ly obeyed, nothing but righteousness, peace, and holy
joy, would be found on earth. Should any one deny
this, after perusing them attentively, it would prbvé
nothing, but the weakness of his understanding/ or the
depravity of his heart. They require us to regard God
t^hh filial, ' and our fdlow-creaturesr with fhiternat afibc-
tíon. They require rulers, to " be just ; ruling in the'
foar of God ; and subjects, to lead quiet and peaceable
Kves in all godliness and honesty." TRcy require the"
husband, to " love the wife even as himself and thé
wife, " to reverence her husband." They require par¬
ents to educate their children, " in the nurture and ad¬
monition of th^ Lord ; and children, to love, honor, and
obey their parents. Thèy require masters, to treat their
servants with kindness ; and servants, to be submissive,
diligent, and faithful. They require of all, temperance,
Contentment, and industry ; and stigmatize, as worse
than an infidel, him, who neglects to provide for the
f ' • '
eëssUies of his family. They provide for the speedj?
terimnaticm ammosities, and dissentítms, by requiring
us, to forgive, and pray for our enemies, whenever we
pray for ourselves ; and to make repäratioil to all, whom
we niay have injured, before we presume to appear witli
our offerings in the presence cff Ood. ' In. a word, they
teach us, That j denying ungodliness, ànd worldly lusts,
we should live soberly, righteotisly, and godly, in this
present world ; looking ftMr that blessed hope, and the
glorioiis appearing of the great God and our Saviour,
Jésus Christ. These duties they require us to perform,
with constancy and perseverance, on penalty of incurring
the everlasting displeasure of our Creatorj and its dread¬
ful coiisequenc^i
in addition to these instructicHis and precepts, thé
scriptures furnish us with the most instructive exam¬
ples—examples, which most plainly and convincingly
teach us, both what we must shun ; and what we are to
pursue. On evely rock, where immortal souls have
been wrecked ;—^at the entrance of every piath which
leads to danger, they shew Us some self-destroyed
wretch, standing, like a pillar of salt, to WarU succeed¬
ing travellers not to approach it ; while at the gate, and
in the path of Hfcj they place many divinely instructed
and infallible guides, who lead the way, beckon us to
follow, and point to the. happy mansions^ in which it
ends. Knowing how powerfully we are influenced by
the example of those, with whom we associate, it intro¬
duces us to the society of the most amiable and excel¬
lent of our species ; makes us perfectly acquainted with
their characters and pursuits ; admits us into, not only
their closets, but their hearts ; unveils to us all theit
secret springs of action ; and shews us the hidden source
^'hence they derived wisdom and strength to subdue
their sinful propensities, and overcome the world. Bj
" opening thb volume^ we may, at any time, walk in the
17
«
garden of Ëden with Adam ; sit in the ark with Noah i
share the hospitality, or witness the £iith, of Abraham ;
âsscend the mount of God with Moses ; unite in the
secret devotions of David ; or listen to the eloquent and
impassioned addresses of St. Pctul. Nay more, we may
here converse with Him, who spoke as never man
spake ; participate with the spirits of the just made perfect,
in the employments and happiness of heaven ; and enjoy
sweet communion with the Father of Our Spirits, through ^
his Son, Jesus Christ. Such is the society, to which
die scriptures introduce us ;~such, the examples which
they present to our imitation ; requiring us, to follow
them, " who, through ^th and patience, inherit the
promises ; " to walk in the steps of our divine Redeemer ;
and to be, followers of God, as dear children."
Nor does this precious volume contain nothing, but
instructions, precepts, examples, and threatenings. No,
it contains ¿so, "strong consolation;"—consolation
suited to every possible variety and complication of hu¬
man wretchedness ; and of sufficient efficacy, to rendet
the soul not only resigned, but joyful in the lowest depths
of adversity ;—^not only tranqiiil, but triumphant in the
very jaws of death. It is the appointed vehicle,, by
'which the Spirit of God, the promised Comforter, com-
munic^es not only hb instructions, but his consolations
to the soul. It is, if I may so express it, the body
which he has assumed, in order to converse with men ;
and he lives and speaks in every line. Hence it is said to
"be quick," or living, and powerful." Hence its words,
"^'are spirit and they are life ;"—the living, life-giving
words, of the living God. The consolation which it
imparts, and the blessings which it offers, are such, as
nodiing but omnipotent goodness can bestow. It finds
us guilty and freely offers us pardon. It finds us pol¬
luted with innumerablç defilements ; and offers us moral
s
18
purity. It finds us weak & enslaved ; and ofifers us liberty*
It finds us wretched ; and oilers happiness. It finds us
dead ; and oflFers everlasting life. It finds us, " having
no hope and Without God in the world," with nothing
brfore us, " but a certain, fearful lopking for of judg¬
ment and fiery indignation;" and places glory, andhon»
or and immortality, full in our view; and while it urges
us to pursue them, by the exercise of faith in the Re¬
deemer, and patient continuance in well doing," it
encourages and animates us in the pursuit, by the, most
condescending olfers of assisstance, and " exceedingly
great and precious promises ; " promises signed by the
immutable God, and sealed with the blood of his eternal
Son ;—promises which, one would think, are sufficient,
to render indolence active ; and timidity bold. Unfall -
ing pleasures; durable riches; immortal honors; im-
perisliable mansions ; an unfading crown ; an immove¬
able throne ; an everlasting kingdom ; an eternal weight
of glory ; perfect^ uninterrupted, never-ending, perpet¬
ually increasing felicity, in die full firuidon of God, are
the rewards, which these promises assure to all penitent
believers. But in vain do we attempt to describe these
rewards ; for, ' ' Eye hath noC seen, nor ear heard, nei¬
ther have entered into the heart of man the things, which
God hath prepared for them that love him. "
Such are the circumstances, which render the Bible
interesting as a human composition ;—such the instruc¬
tions, precepts, and promises, which it communicates as
a revelation from God. And in proportion to thè im¬
portance of its contents, are the evils which would result
from its absence or loss. Destroy ^his volume, as the
enemies of human happiness have vainly endeavored to
do ; and you render us profoundly ignorant of our Cre¬
ator ; of the formation of the world which we inhabit ;
rif the origin and progenitors of our race ; of our present
duty, and future destination ; and consign us, through
N
t
ßie, to the dombion of fancy, " doubt, and conjecture.
Pestfoy this volume ; and you rob us of the consolatory
expectation, excited by its predictions, that the stormy
cloud which has>so long himg over a suffering world,
will, at length, be scattered and a brighter day suc¬
ceed ;—you forbid ijs to hope that the hour is approach¬
ing, when nation shall no more lift up sword against na¬
tion ; and righteousness, peace, and holy joy, shall pni-
yersally prevail ; and allow us to anticipate nothing, but
a cmistant succession of wars, revolutioris, crimes, and
miseries, terminating only with the erid of timie. Des¬
troy this volume ; and you deprive us, at a single blow,
of religion, with all the animating consolations, hopes,
and prospects, which it affords ; and leave us nothing,
but ihe liberty of choosing,;—miserable dternative ! be¬
tween the cheerless gloom of infidelity, and thl^ mon-
• súrous shadows of paganism. Destroy this yobm^ ;
you unpeople heaven ; bar forever its doors against the
wretched posterity of Âdam ; restore to the king of terrors
his fetal stbg ; bury hope in the same grave which re-
ceives our bodies ; consign all who have died before us,
to eternal sleep, or endless misery ; and allow us to ex¬
pect nothbg at death, but a similar fetCi In a word,
^stroy this volume ; and you take from us, at once,
every thing, which prevents existence from becoming
of aU curses, the greatest. You blot out the sun ; dry
up the ocean ; and take away thç atmosphere of tlie
moral world ; and degrade man to a situation, from *
which he may look up with envy to " the brutes that
perish." Who then would not earnestly wish to believe
the scriptures, even though they came to him, unattend¬
ed with sufficient evidence of their divihe (»-ig^ ?. Who
can be so much his own enemy, as to refuse to believç
them," when they come attended with evidence, more
than sufficient, to satisfy all, but the wilfully incredur
ious ? Who, in this view of them, imperfect as it Is, is
h
%
20
prepared to say, that they are not of all books the most
important ; that they ought not to be prized and studi*
ed as such, by all who possess them ; and put, without
delay, into the hands of all who do not ? Were this in¬
estimable treasure in the e:^lusive possessipn of any in*
dividual, would you not consider hiro as the most maU
cvolent of beings, if he neglected to communicate it, as
soon as possible, to his fellow-creatures ? And if he
were a stranger to the use of the press, would not thç
common feelings of humanity require Mm, to spend
whole nights, as did a wealthy merchant in the E^t, in
transcribing it for their use ? What possible excuse,
then, can wé assign, ' for neglecting to distribute this
treasure, when the prçss afibrds us the means of doing
it, at so trilling an expense f Will it be said, that few,
or none of our fellow-citizens are destitute ? It-isafact,
within the knowledge of this sopiety, that the deficiency
of Bibles in this District, to say nothing of other places,
is far greater, than they are able to supply. Will it be
said, that none are destitute of the sacred volume, but in
consequence of their own fiiult ; and that they are there-
fore unworthy to receive such a gift ? Admitting this
to' be the case, which in many instances however it is
not, is this an excuse for neglecting them, which it be¬
comes us to assign ? Had God adopted such a rule in
' the distribution of his favors ;—^had he bestowed thç
^ i ^
Biblé on none but the deserving ; who among ourselves
should ever have been favored with it ? Will it be
«
said, that the other wants of the ^ poor are so numer¬
ous and pressing,' that nothing can be spared for the
supply of this ? ' But what other want can be so press¬
ing, so desèrving 6f immediate attentipn, as that of the
Bible ? In what other way can we, at an equal expensé^
do so miich to alleviate the miseries, and proniote, ]
will fiot say the eternal, but even the temporal happiness
of the poor, as by putting into their hands ^ book^ whicl
21
# • V
I
çontains such a mass of the most valuable and important
information ?—which is so eminently calculated to render
them better, «aid conse<juently happier, in ^ the rela^
tions of life ; which teaches them, " in whatever state
they are therewith to be content imd to look for tíje
wlief of their necessities to Sim who, ' ' hears the young
ravena whra they cry"?" and to whom they wiU never
look in vain, whUe they take this precious volume for
their guide. Were they experimentally acquainted with
the worth of this volume, they would themselves feel the
want of it, to be the first, the most pressing of wants.
Send us any famine, they would cry, but, " a famine
the word Qod." I^eep your wealth ^ enjoy your
possessions ; ^ve us but the Bible to smooth the path
of 1^, and the bed of death ; and we will enyy none
fteir poussions, but living, and dying, wUl bless you ;
diough we should perish with hunger. • Such is the lan¬
guage öF the pious poor. Such, were it not for, their
vices or their ignorance, would be thç language of aU
' ihe poor ; and who will deny, that their vices and ignor*
ance render it still more necessary, that they should bç
put in immediate possesion oi the Bible. In request-
mg you to assist in supplying them with it, this Society
^oès not much solicit you to confer a favor, as to,
share in a privilege the privilege of unking with the
pious and benevolent in all parts of diç world, in thç
noble design of distributing the scripture ; and the still
piore enviable privilege of becoming, " workers together
with God," in difusing die knowledge çf Himself, and
His will. With what has been already done ; with what
is now doing for the promotion of this God-like design,
you are, in some measure, acquainted. You are not
ignorant, that societies, for the gratuitous distribution of
the scriptures, have been formed in all parts of the world}
and that new societies, for the same purpose, are con¬
stantly fonfiing. By the members of these various soci.
22
leties nearly a million of dollars was contributed during
the past year ;. more than four hundred thousand dollars
of which, were received by the British and Foreign Bi¬
tte Society alone. To aid the efforts of these socieUes^
not only have kings and princes lent their influence, and
the rich opened their treasures ; but the wido>v has cast
in her two mites ; the child has presented all his little
hoard ; servants have given a third part of their annual
wages ; and more than one military corps have offered
a certain proportion of their pay. In consequence of
these astonishing and unprecedented exertions, the sac¬
red scriptures, or at least parts of them, have already
been printed and circulated in upwards of forty different
languages and dialects. Shall we then be idle, while all
ranks and denominations are thus actively eng^|éd iii
this glörious work ? While Britpqs, Russi^s, Swedes,
Pttandei-s, Germans, Swiss, Italians, Greeks, Africans,
and Indians, are employed in diffusing the scripturesj
shall Americans alone do nothing ? Or shall we bé last
and least among Americans in feivoring and promoting
^ such a design ? It is with no small reluctance we aré
obliged to confess, that in this rank, a very considerable
part of this District may justly be placed. All that has
been done here, has been done by, comparatively, a few.
We speak with confidence, when we assert, that among
aH the societies which have been formed for the distri¬
bution of the scriptures, in our own, or in other coun¬
tries, not one can be found which has received assistance
' so disproportionate to what might have been reasonably
expected, as this. And to what is the existence of this
- disgraceful fact to be ascribed ? Are the inhabitants of
this District less religious,—do they value the Bible
less,—or their property more than others ? This, we
presume, you will not feel disposed to allow. Shall we
not, then, do all in our power, to wipe off so foul a stain
from this section of our country ? Shall we give our
4
*
23
destitute countrymen reason to regret, that they were
' not bom in any other part of the world, where they
would have been supplied with die scriptures, rather
than in this christian land ? Shall ,the eye of Omnis¬
cience, while it surveys the globe, find here the only
spot, where the water of life is not permitted to flow
freely ;—were the cry of the poor for Bibles is disregard¬
ed; and thus be provoked to take from us a gift, .of
yhich we se¡em not to know the worth ? , There is rea¬
son to believe that, unless we speedily and diligently
exert Ourselves, this will be the case. He, ' ' who cannot
lie, has declared, that, "the knowledge of the Lord shalï
fill the earth as the watCTS cover the seas." The period
in which this prediction will be fully accomplished, is
now evidently and rapidly' approaching. The greatest
of those obstacles, which once opposed its fulfilment, are
already removed or overcome ; and it is more than
probable, that before very many years have elapsed, there
will be scarcely a human habitation on earth, unless in¬
deed it be among ourselves, in which the Bible will not
be found. Let us, then, engage as one man, in hasten¬
ing the arrival of this glorious and long expected day.
Let us give wings to the Bible. Let us guide this life-
giving stream into every abode and cottage in our wil¬
derness. ' And permit us to express a hope, that your
assistance in promoting this design, will not be con¬
fined to the present occasion ; but that you will aid our
exertions, by becoming active members of this society.
Above all, while engaged in conveying the Bible to oth¬
ers, let us beware of neglecting it ourselves. Let us
bind it to our hearts as our most valuable treasure ;
study it with that reverence and attention which its
character denvatids, and submit implicitly to its decis¬
ions, as to, " the lively oracles of God." Thus we shall
be impressed with a conviction, far more strong and a-
biding than any external evidence can produce, That
áíl séripturé is given by inspiration of Qnày 'and is ptO'
fiitablejor doctrine, for reproof, for eetfection, and in-
struction in righteousness ; that the man of God may bé
perfect, thoroughly furnished ntno all good works.
Thus shall we be enabled Oui* own experience, to feel
and adopt the language of the Psalmist, " The law of
the Lord is perfhct, converting the soul ; the testimony of
the Lard is sure, making wise thé simple. The statutes
of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart ; the command,
merit of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes. More
to be desired are they than gokl; yea than much fine
gold; sweeter (dso thán honey, or the honey comb.
Moreover by them is thy Sertmni Warned, and in keeping
Of them there is great rewara.'j,
A
SERMON
FRSACHED BEf ORB THE ,
ANCIENT AÏÎD HONOURABLE
ARTILLERY COMPANY,
IN BOSTON; JUNE 6, 1814<;
BEIHG THE 177TH ANHIYBESART OF THEIR
ELECTION OF OFFICERS.
BY SAMUEL CARY,
0NE OP THE MiNlSTERa OP THE CHAPEL, BOSTON.
Non jam ad eahnîo)Î rerum
Injustos erevisse queror ; toBantur in altum
Ut lapsa graTiore ruant. Clavdian.
BOSTON ;
PUBLISHED BY THOMAS WELLS, 3, HANOVER. STREET.
John Eliot, Printer.
1814-.
SERMON.
/
2 samuel xeív. 16«
and tbe lord said unto the angel that destroyed the
tEople, it is enough, stay thou thine hand.
9
IT is at all times a most animating subject to
consider tbe proofs of divine agency in the affairs
of this world ; the connexion which exists between
the revolutions of human society, its improvement
or corruption, its prosperity or wretchedness, and
God the beneficent cause and controller of all
things, it is peculiarly so at this period of the
world, when we have lived to see a course of .
events, to which nothing in history can be at all
parallel; events so vast, so unexpected, so ap¬
palling ; which have so baffled all our calculations
and all human foresight, that the mind cannot rest
upon mere natural causes,, but ascends and fixes
itself upon that invisible power, which calls order
ont of confusion, and joy out of depression and '
4
despair. And the subject presents itself with ob¬
vious propriety on the present occasion, when the
soldier appears in the temple of the most high, to
acknowledge, that his courage, and strength, and
skill, without the divine blessing, are all vanity ;
that it is God, who covers him with his shield in
battle ; that peace and war, glory and shame, vic¬
tory and defeat are from his hand.
Ï shall make no apology therefore, if I should
deviate from what may have been the usual prac-
a
tice on these occasions, for the sake of making ,
such remarks upon these great occurrences, as may
display jhe agency of divine providence in produe-
«
ing them, and their tendency to confer ultimate and
great benefit upon human society.
Let us endeavour to re cal some of those appre¬
hensions, which, not many months ago, made every
^ good and every thoughtful man among us tremble
for himself and for mankind. What a spectacle of
horror, of coldkearted, mejrciless tyranny, d the
irresistible and triumphant career of vice was at
\
that time exhibited in Europe ! We saw a despot¬
ism, of a character totally unknown in modem Ids-
tory, more ferocious and mmre e&teu^ve than
*
s
soundest iioliticians had believed could have exist¬
ed in an advanced and enli^tened state of society,
establishing itself, upon the niin old and vener-
abk habits, prindples and institutions ;-<-a despot¬
ism possessing all the worst features of the ancient
govmmments, with more ex;^rienee, more profound
views of human nature, more skill in applying it-
self to the character, the favourite prejudices, the
corrupt passions and sympatldes mankind ;—a
dreadful despotism, which held both soul and
body in its chains. We saw it advancing with an
impetuosity, which confounded all calculations and
aU resistance ; bearing down m its course, monarchs,
and armies, and nations, degrading the exalted,
disarming ihe, powerful, endeavouring to crush
0
every feeling of patriotism, and every manly senti¬
ment; proclaiming an. extmminating war against
kiman libmrty, xirtue and happiness. We saw it
inflicting misery upon hs victims till their cour¬
age was gone, tiU tiiey were compelled to stifle
thmr very groans, till they resigned! themselves
to despak. i
It was a time of universal dkm*;!—«• day of
clouds and Of thick darkness. I 1!%ere Vras nothing
in prospect to support or eneoura^ h^, im fisi-
»
«
t, c
ble means of arresting the destroyer in his coarse
and saving the world from slavery^ nothing in short
»
to console the philanthn^st but cbnfidence in the
over-raling; the ever watehftil; the benevolent pro-
•
vidence of the Supreme Being. The most enlist-
ened of our citizens thon^t they could perceive
distinctly, that the foundations of this terrible pow-
er were laid with too much care, and were too
broad and deep to be shaken by any probable hu¬
man efforts ; that there were causes, to be found in
the profligate spirit and principles of the French
revolution, and in the hahits and comparative im¬
becility of the other nations of Europe, which en¬
sured its permanence and its securiiy. They told
us of the immense resources of France ; of the ad¬
mirable subtleiy with which her plans of subjuga¬
tion had been conceived, and the steadiness with
«
which they had been kept in view, and the success
%
which had followed them; of the boldness vrith
4
»
which she had released herself from every moral
obligation, from all those common ties, those habits
and laws, which connected her with other pecóle,
I * • * '
and placed her in some measure within their con¬
trol. A nation like France, despising the reslraints
of justice and humanity, calHng its- whole popula-
7
tion to armS) em^oying its whole, wealth in the
g^ice of war or of eormpti«»!; giying all its spirit
and energies to foreign conquest^ must, as they
Uiought, be always irresist&le. They told us of
.fte martial enthusiasm of this people, of their tUrst
fw glory and their contempt for the arts of peace,
a passion which had marked their national charac¬
ter for centuries, which was diffused through all
ranks and all possible conditions, which glowed in
%
the bosoip of squalid penury, and reconciled the
slave to his chains, and was extinguished only
*
witii life ;—a pasmón which taught them to submit
to any sacrifices, and to follow any leader who
I
could cut his way to victory. We were referred
to the character (ff the man, who held these great
resources at his own disposal ; to his fierce, inexo-
*
rabie, insatiable ambition ; to his unrivalled skill
in the art of sowing discord among his enemies, di-
viding their strength, alarming their fears, inflam¬
ing their cupidity ; to the originality and grandeur
4
of his military schemes, the facility with which he
could strike all tiie points of his object at the
same moment, the fury of his onset, the rapidity
with which one blow was followed by another, the
' I
immense armies, trained by exact discipline and
t
uümated by the hope of victory and plunder, with
which he could overwhelm his terrified enemies.
4
We were told of that keen sight, which penetrated
|ill the sources of danger and was forever on its
A
guard, which detected hostility in its very germ^
and could blast it ; which suffered nothing to es*
cape its notice^ however remote, however difficult
bf access, which could serve as an instrument of
ambition. Can we forget the impassioned tone of
t
eloquence, in which our statesmen and orators de*
elared to their countrymen, that thé same fatal in-
ñuence, which had destroyed the enerves of Eu*
%
rope, had extended itself to our own shores, and
was already visible in the base servility of the gov*
emment, and in the degraded character and grow*
ing depravity of the people ? Can we forget the
anguish, with which these great men saw their
. country associating itself with the fortunes of this
sanguinary tyrant, and throwing at his feet the no¬
ble inheritance, which had been purchased with the
blood of its best citizens? We thought of the
conseqwnees of this most hateful union. It was. a
tíreme, on which our emotions were unutterable;
on which we dwelt, till our hearts grew liquid,
and we could have poured them out like water.'^^
• Ames.
I
é
9
Let me hcdd iM» picture, before your eyes a little
longer.-^lt was a time, when. men said, one to '
ano9ier, d^b God know tiiis ? is 9ie am of tbe
Xiprd shortened, that he eamiot save ? Why is this
moral deselaticm, tins contempt of truth, and jus¬
tice, iad mercy, imd^good faith, permitied to i|ffiead
itself over the face oi society ? It was indeed the
4
lan^a^ of short-si^ited impatience, of unmanly,
timughtless despondency ; men, who, because
they could not see the end of ^ese thin^, and
how far this cmilusion and misery might be cmi-
sistent with the ultimate felicity of mankind, dis¬
trusted the bmievolent intentions of the Deity ; Of
«
men, who did not allow themselves to considw,
that the design of the calamity, might be oonrec-
ve and remedial ; tha^ however terrible and mys¬
terious, it might still be intended to remove greater
and more fetal cmrmpticms, and to be the instru¬
ment of smue vast and permanent good to be con-
#
ferred hereafter. We have proofs equally strong
and incontestible, Aat the stoms of society, and
%
«
the storms oí nature, are called forth and controlled
by God. We see them equally serving as means
^ 9
of puriftca^n, and followed by that genial, benig¬
nant sunshine, which yields health, plenty and
cheerfulness. Every one knows, that war, not-
g
Af
y
10
p
✓
-vrithsttmding its influence np<ni public mwals^
é
and its innumerable calamines, is one of the moirt
powmrful instruments, in the hand of God, of de¬
stroying deep rooted airà inveterate abuses, ele-
Vating the human character^ eliciting its noblest en-
ergiety and ^ displaying all the subHmhy of virtue ;
*
that it advanees society toward perfection, incases
its knowledge improves its condition, excites .its
piety tiiai its ultimate effects, in one word, are
-ifften mestimable. WMle tiie dark cloud is hail¬
ing oVer our heads> and the ^ui^er is roaring ihri-
oadiy around us, the heart may j^haps sink with
terrour, because the end b dbtant and nncertmn,
nnd the tempes^ we think, may dbchai^ ib fury
upon ourselves. But if we are permitted to live
till it is over, and the light of heaven again bursts
forth in full splendour, we feel, that what excited
all this soliritude was a dispensation of mercy.
o
We have now seen the justice (ff the Supreme
Being manifested in the utter ruin of this tremra«
dous. despotbm. It is no\^ proved to have been a
scourge in his hands, inflicting misery under his
%
eye, and in such degree and to such extent, as bb
4
periect wisdom determined to be right. It was
f iSl - ■ t ^
* When thy judgments are in the earthj the inhabitants of the world i
' will leant rirhteonsness. Isaiah xxvL 0. ^ . j
Ii
«
pmrîtted to rise^läe a raaligjmnt star, to a fearfal
«levatiou, and to shake pestil^ee finnn its horrid
hallt," lälihe nyi^rious pni^ose of heaven was
aecomphshed; and then God stretched fwth tos
tontd,^ and it sank ftoever. « There is nottong since
toe mnaenloas victeitosffif toe Old Testas^t, which
«
has demonstrated the divine intm^sition so cleaiv
iy, as this great act of retribntíon ; nothing which
Itos taken ^ace so dbreetly in x^ppositlon to toe
strongest human probahiMes, or tQ which human
eames, even in the eye ^ toe most intelligent ob-
"serVers, appeared so tottoly inadequate. Gould we
have betieved, tlmt a finroe so immease and inresist*
iMe as toat which invaded the norih ni Europe, a
body of di^plined wai^ims, a mass, vigwous, ac¬
tive, intelligent, in proportikm to its magnitodei
miimated by the most powerful of human passions ;
supports hy^toe aeenmnlated resourcmi of^Eu-
'rope condui^d by a leader, accustomed to see
vietoty hovmhig about tos stmdard, whose very
%Mtte paralyzed the strmigto of his antagonists ;
'and opposed by a people without political or mtii-
^iary renown, mid degraded by domestic ■ tynm-
^ ay,—'that toese vast armies were mmrèhing to their
graves ? Gould any human sagadty have foreseen,
tiiat,in the heart of a half dvilized country, togre
i»
would bave be^ displayed •« %uiraele of magua*'
jiùnify« I uueqaaUed by'any .thiug .ever oxhibited
among mankiud; and .wUl be ^amt by futmre; ages,
widi tears of admirationy4i people sacrificing their ^
capital, the object of deep' religious awe ' and üm'
strongest national enthusiasm, to the safety of their
country ? Gould We have thought, that this accurs¬
ed enemy. virtue would have thus received hisi
death wound from the hand of virtue hersèlf ?>***
that his overthrow would be so sudden, so conu
plete, so awful ; timt this mighty conqueror, whm
had set God and man at défiance, should, in tho
space of a few montiis, have fled, a trmnUing cow¬
ard, alone, exhausted, ruined, seeldng his safi^'
witibin the walls of Hs own, palace ^ tíiat so many
enslaved people would- have shaken, off the yoke,
which crushed them to the earth and. actually do-
cree the repose of-Europe, from the very throne of
the disgraced and teilen op^ssor? Yetthm»-
what our eyes have semil. O God, how |ast' and*
how terrible are thy judgments ! . ' ^
.¡And now the day of vengeance and desolMkm
is over. 1 God 1ms said te the destroymg angel, k
iS' enough, stay thoq? thine hand. The tearful
images, which have passed before us in rapid ^
succession,. have disappeared,, and the li^t ^
la
I
bf^ «ad joy> and peace » dawning upon tbe
wwld. But it may lie ' asked, emi events,'*
wkklL have produced in their progress such ex^^
treme misery, be referred to the Bupreme Be^tg,"
and to bmiefieenee? Are we to consider tiie an*
#
%
aiœfay and hmmrs of the French revolution, and
%
its deadly enmity to retigion, and the consequent
snbvttrsimi of the most sacred rights of mankind,'
a« ^dmed by the perhiission of God, and as an'
act of his mercy? Let it be remembered^ my
firtends, t^ evil, or what we caH evil, w^n it is
employed as the punishment of vice, or as' the
means rectifying disorder, or producing good,
is one of tiie instruments of benevolence. If it is
the only mode, or the most effectual mode of pro¬
moting human improvement ;—^if, for instance^ it
is'the'direct tendency or this great experiment,
whi^ we have now seen brennt to its condu-
»m, to develope and to establish those principles/
wtíeh are essential to 'social happiness ; If it will'
serve to giv||^ mankind mmre enlightened' views of
tiie nature cff government or'of religion, to mcrease
tAeir ■ knowledge or their virtue^ to effect radical
and permalimit beneficial chaires in their' c<mdi-
;^hra it is unquestionably a subject of thank-
htiness to heaven, and Ou^ to be acknowledged
0
as such by usy who survive the stora^ and by
ihosBy who come after us. That this k, in fact,
its. tendency, Ï will endeavour to show in a few
é
words»
é
It would be wrong for us to undertake to say
what precise effects will take place when this
great convulsion of Europe has sidisided. But
there are some general views of the subject, which,
at least, so far display its tendency to promote
human happiness upon the whole, as to vindicate
• B
the equity of the chvine government in permitting
it to exist.
In the first place, we may consider it as a les-
son of most solemn instruction to the* present and
I I
all future ages. It has taught .mankind in a tone
of energy, which must forever be heard and felt,-i->
that the restraints of law and of religion are essen-
«
tial to the very existence of human liberty that
a state of rational freedom k not that in which every
»
dtizeq mity actas he is prompted by hk corrupt pas-
f
sions, or. hk false principles, or the Impulse of hk
wild imaglna^n ; but that in whidt he Ms the pow-
%
mr of acting thç part fw which €lod created'him, and
improving his own charaetmr, and advancing his own
and his neighbour's felicity. It has given more
to
solid ideas of. government itself, and of the rights
45
mankind. It has exMbited to. the, world the
singolar spectacle of a pure theoretic dmnocracjy
♦
—« goverBB^t of 4he very, populace, a state in
which all ranks, conditions and understandings are
levelled, m which power is entrusted without dis-
cthnination to the ignorant and the intelligent, the
upright and the base, the nœn of character, princi-
pie, virtue, and those who have no consciousness
of their responsUtilify, and are enable of sacrificing
every thing to their own selfishness,—a state in
wto<^ the pasnons are triumphant, and every clam*
orous demagogue beccnnes an oracle. We have
seen how ftur such à state of things is consistent
with public liberty and happiness. We have seen
tiie passion f<n unrestrmed freedom overturning
pnnciples, which had been. sanctioned by the ex>
perience of ages, plunging a flourishing people into
anarchy, and at length subjecting it to the rod tjf
a ferocious tyranny, which had no heart to pity the
miseries it inflicted. And is it possible for us, or
for posterity to see these things in vain ?
It was most important, that this decisive experi-
y
ment should be permitted to ti^e place in the pre¬
sent state of society. It was the error of many
intelligent minds, that the intellectual condition of
-mankind was so evidently improved, that they
. •
16 ♦
é
would DOW be safe under a government of philoso¬
phy 'f that liberty was in no danger Qf being abus-
ed; because men were capable of discerning their
real interests^ and the necessity of restraining them¬
selves. Similar experiments in ancient times had
ë
no weight in the minds of these reasoners. They
saw nothing in the lessons of history, nothing in
*
tiie state of ^ Gmek and Roman republics, or
the causes of their destruction, which was at all
applicable to an enlightened age. They consid¬
ered the principles of government as so much bet¬
ter understood, and the means of judging rightly
on subjects that immediately affect human happi¬
ness, as diffused so generally among all classes,
• *
that the seeds corruption would be at once de¬
tected and extinguished ; that a free people would,
of course, be mrtuous, because virtue was essential
to thmr security. But now this delusion is ended.
/
In the secçnd place, it is the evident tend^y
of these events to destroy the accumulated abuses
«
of the old systems. That such abuses did exist,
and were mveterate and most oppressive, is undeni¬
able J tiiat they were an effectual bar to the general
■
advancement of society ; and that it was most im<
0
portant, that tiiey should be rectified, is also un-
a
deniable. But how. was this desirable end to be
É
17
aeeotnplislied ? How were etilS) which had become
BO venerable by age, so confirmed by education
and habit, so closely associated with all the sym*
i
pathies of human nature, to be separated from the
4
good, and thrown away foreyer ? Not by the mere
influence of reason, for reason had to contend with
• 4
power, with ambition,, wiüi avarice, with the fear
J »
of change,—^with enemies, who would either de«
spise its gentle remonstrances, or would not hear
them -not by the moral improvement of mankind,
for it was first necessary to remove the evils, before
such improvement could exist. Nothing could
have so effectually, and so radically extirpated
• #
these abuses, as the great. c<mvolsi(ni which God,
I
in his wisdom, has permitted to take platm in Eu¬
rope ; an event it is true, which seemed, instead of
*
correcting, to deshroy ; which overturned the whole
political fabric, with its good as well as its evü,
its beauty and deformity ; but which, without
question, will prove most salutary in. its conse-
♦
quences. The discordant and inflammable prin¬
ciples, which had been so long collecting, have dis-
t
charged their fiu>y, and are harmless,^ Society
will be restored to tranquUlify and to r^ement.
\
It will be settled upon more solid jNrinciples, awak-
3
18
ened as it is, and made wise by tbe severe lessons
4
of experience. There will probably be a more
equal distribution of power, a more sacred regard
to the acknowledged rights of mankind, men« dis¬
tinct ideas of the duties of those who govern, and
those who obey, a more solemn conviction, that the
♦
true glory of the one consists in giving efficacy to
just laws by their ready acquiescence, and that of
the other in promoting the public prosperity.
Again, it is the tendency of these events to en¬
courage a commercial, instead of a military spirit,
among the nations of Europe. War has always
been their passion and pride ; a passion kept alive
and cherished by the nature of their governments,
their habits and institutions. But in the general
wreck of ancient habits and institutions, these
sources of military enthusiasm have disappeared,
and will not soon, and perhaps may never be re¬
vived. War is at length a prostrate and vanquish-
èd enemy. The world is exhausted by its mis¬
eries, and tired of the follies' of ambition, and the
«
blood-stained trophies of victory. What a lesson
for the pride of kings in the poor, degraded exile
4
of the Mediterranean, yesterday the terror and
scourge of mankind, darting thunder from Olym-
19
paS; and eovering the earth with . desolation ; to
day so low, so despicable, Uiat Ids conquerors will
not dei^ to crush him ! '
if
Europe mil now seek felicity in the arts of
peace, in the interchange of good <^ces, of wealth,
»
of biowledge ; in the encouragement of industry;
imd honoundde enterprise, in giving useful employ-.
9
.ment to all classes of its population ^ in exciting a
love of ordm, and truth, and justice, and all those
virtues, which are the support and ornament of so¬
ciety. That commerce may eventually produce
.luxury and its peculiar vices, and a spirit of mu¬
tual hostility, is not im^hable. But in the piean
«
timé the gmieral state ci society will have been
most essentially. improved ; habits of amity will
s
have been formed between the people of different
nations, the principles of national law and justice
will have become generally understood and re-
spected ; and war will neither possess its present
malignant character, nor will its effects be so ruin-
«
ous to the general interests of mankind.
1 persuade myself, that these most awful dispen¬
sations of diyme providence are intended to pro-
a
duce great effects upon the rdi^us character of
b
society. They have already drawn the ■ eyes of
so
♦
the world to the Supreme Being. In the stillness
of prosperity, when men are wafted' gently along
the stream of life by favourable breezes, and cheer¬
ed by a serene sky, they forget the Creator, and
their dependence and their duty. It is amid the
horrors of the storm and the earthquake, and the
falling of empires, that we fly. to religions princi¬
ples for consolation, and feel that without the pro-
s
tecting care of the Deity, we must perish, we are
nothing. The persons, who are now to act a dis¬
tinguished part in Europe, have been trained in the
school of adversity ; they know the value of relig¬
ion, and they will support and diffuse it by their
example.
But this is not all. Christianity' was given by
God to soften the hearts and reform the manners
of the world. It is a system most admirably
adapted to its end ; and eighteen centuries have
elapsed since its influence began to be exerted.
Has it been successful ? No. And the reason is,
that Christianity, as it has been current in Europe
during this long period, is as distinct from that
simple and benevolent religion, which was once
delivered to the saints, as the abominations of Fa-
ganlty^. The thing, which has assumed this name,
SI
is a ferocious system, armed with the sword of the
civil magistrate, loaded with disgusting absurdi-
*
ties, teaching sentiments concerning God and the
condition of mankind, which fill the soul with
horror, and ' breathing vengeance against all, vidio
«
ventare to question its infallibility. ' •*
When the religion of Jesus was taken under the
protection of the state as incapable of protecting
itself, and was deccarated with artificial wnaments
to make it venerable in the eyes of the vulgar ;
and when the scriptures were withdrawn from the
public eye, as if this gift of God was an inconsid¬
erate gift, and ill adapted to the condition or wsmts
of man,—then a dark cloud spread itself over this
«
bright orb, and it became invisible. Then the
dogn las of ignorant pride, and the reveries of an
I
absurd philosophy, were delivered to mankind, as
the genuine doctrines of the gospel. Our faith fell
into the hands of theorists, who undertook to make
the work of omniscience more perfect, to' supply
what they chose to consider deficient, and to beau.<
tify what to their tasteless vision seemed gross de-
I
formities. The consequence was, that a mass of
falsehood became incorporated with Christianity,
which was handed down from generation to gene-
m
ration ; and which, though in some measure ex¬
ploded at the reformation, still exerted a most fa¬
tal influence throughout Europe. But in this
whiñwind which we have seen subverting religion,
and liberty, and gov^ment, from their founda^
♦
tions, these abuses, of which we speak, have dis¬
engaged themselves from Christianity. There is at
least this advantage resulting under the care of
vina providence from a general inattention to re¬
ligion, that what is false belonging to it loses. its
hold up(m the affections ; error .ceases to be en¬
couraged and ^ it expires systems are - permitted
with impunity to be severely scrutinized ; and the
true principles - of religion, which are indestructi¬
ble, invulnerable by any revolutions of society,
founded in the pature of man ,and etemal as his
duration—these,true principles rise from their tem-»
\
porary depression in a purified and most glorious
form, to be the consolation, the support, the joy of
mankind. i *
It appears, that the great principle of protestant-i
\
ism, the right of worshipping Gk>d unmolested, ac-,
cording to the dictates çf eonscience, is to be guar¬
anteed by the new constitution, of France. My
friends, have we considered this all-important, llús
SB
#
most animating fiiet with snfflei^ attention ? The
rights of conseience are at length distinctly recog.
nized and j^tected upon the continent of Europe !
Christians then are permitted to' search the records
s
m
of their faith, without opposition and without fear ;
%
to hold tiieir own ctmclusions, and to avow them
honestly ; to assail and reject error without expos.
m
ing themselves to public scorn, or the lash ' of
ecclesiastical tyranny. The mind is at last free.
Man may worship the God of his affections and his
understan^g, the God of the scriptures, the God
and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, instead of the
idol of .superstition, or of the civil ma^strate. > The
principal obstructions to freedom of inquiry, and
the acquisition of evangelical truth, and the genuine
ii^uence of Christianity, are at an end ; and is it
too mnch to predict, that thé gospel in its original
simplicity, the gospel as it was preached by Christ
and his apoi^es, that gospel, which breathes noth¬
ing but benevolence and subdues the whole heart
to puri^,—will come forth from obscurity and
reign in triumph over the very people who have
loaded it with injuries ? What a glorious prospect
j^esents itself to our eyes ! What a day is break-
» •
ing upon tiie moral state of man ! Intolerance, big-
I
otry, persecution^—dseuioiis* youlr hour is come^
«
your empire is destroyed !
s
I
Gentlemex of the Axcient and Honourable
Artillery—In applying this subject to the state
and prospects of our own country, it is impossible
to disguise or to restrain our apprehensions. We
have seen the Supreme Being wise and benevolent
in his dispensations ; and this should teach us to
confide in his care, and to be satisfied, that what-
ever lot is reserved for us will be right. But at
the same time we have seen him leading mankind
to happiness through scenes of inconceivable mise-
ly. Perhaps it may be necessary, that we should
suffer more, and severely, before we are permitted
to see days of prosperity. It may be that there are
prevailing vices among us, which must be removed
by pinishment ; a national tameness and insensi¬
bility to honour, which requires to be stimulated ; a
timid, luxurious, indolent, mercenary spirit, which
fears to be disturbed, more than it fears disgrace ;
a national degeneracy, which must be checked be¬
fore it drags us to ruin. Qur fathers scorned to
stop and calculate, whether it was more profitable
to be freemen or slaves.-—^Perhaps the blessings of
r^enerated £ur(^ are not io be imparted to usy
who maj be unworthy to enjoy them. -When
I •
however, 1 consider the character of the nation,
#
with which we are at war, the astonishing eleva-
a
tion on which it stands, its unexampled magnanim¬
ity ;—when 1 cmmider the heroism and inflexible
a
fidelity with which it has defeuded the cause of
God and man, of lel^on, of liberty, of justice, of
every thing valuable, which escaped the &ngs of
miarchy ; the enthumasm with which it has flown
to the succour of nations who dared to struggle for
^eir rights ; its devotion to the arts of peace, and
to whatever improves the intellectual and moral
condition of society—think thm'e is every thing
to hope. 1 think this people will not tarnish the
ineffable glory wliich surrounds them, by an act of
mere vengeance.
t But, gentlemen, there are more serious causes of
apprehmision than foreign hostility. The collisions
between this country and Europe may be extin¬
guished. But will peace reconcile the innumera¬
ble contending interests which exist among our¬
selves? Will «it appease the fierce animosities
which are cherished by the different sections of
this republic, or restrain the ungovernable spirit oif
4>.
é
86
y . ^ <
party, or teach the people and their mlers to be-
come disinterested patriots ? I fear the time is not
far distant, when these seeds of national disgrace
♦ s
and wretchedness will shoot into fatal luxuriance.
4
• » • *
But on this topic I have no time and no desire to
» ^ • •
enlarge, liet us trust in God. If prosperity is in
9 ' ' •
store for us, let us take warning by what we have
r « ^ •
suiSered, and bear it with moderation. If we are
• ft • ' . '
to pass through scenes of horror, let it be with that
♦ ♦ •
fortitude and that dignity, which will prove us
«
worthy of our ancestors, and bright examples to
our posterity..
OFFICERS GF* THE COMPANY.
Captain, Capt. Jonathan Whitney,
lAeiUenant, Mr. Jacob Hall,
Eiisign, Mr. Caswell Seal.
r
Sergeants,
Capt. John Roulstone, j Mr. Edward Obat, :
Mr. Abraham Wood, | Mr. James Hooper.
1814 1815.
Captain, Mr. William Howe,
lâetaenant, Capt. George Welles,
* Mnsign, Mr. Levi Melcher.
Sergeants,
Capt. Benjamin Losing, I Capi James'B.'Mabston,
Mr. John Bodd, 1 Mr. Thomas Wells.
SERMON
OK TH1&
t
ATONEMENT,
%
PREACHED AT THE
Ktttmâpl Cotttwniiott
OF THE
CONGREGATTONAL AND PRESBYTERIAN MINISTERS
OF THE STATE OF NEW HAMPSHIRE,
CONCORD, JUNE 2,1824,
Br DANIEL DANA, D. D.
MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL IN LONDONDERRY.
CONCORD
PRINTED Br JOHN W. SHSPARD,
1824.
i
The Rev, DANIEL DANA, D. D.
Dzâk Sir,
• Your DiscowsCy delivered last evening^^ he/ore (he Cwi-
vention of Congregational and Presbyterian Ministers of J^evs
Hampshire^ was on a subject believed to be of vital importance to
the interests of religion ; and it is wished that it may be extensively
circulaied. We wotdd therefore respectfully request a copy for pub¬
lication.
bv order of the convention,
A. BURNHAM, )
J. CURTIS, > Committee;
' J. WEBSTER, S
Concord, June 3, 1824.
SERMON.
%
ISAIAH, rin. 4, 5, 6.
^SURELY HE HATH BORNE OtJR GRIEFS, AND CARRIED OUR SORROWS ; TET
WE DID ESTEEM HIM STRICKEN, SMITTEN OF GOD, AND AFFLICTED. BUT
BE WAS WOUiO^ED FOR OUR TRANSGRESSIONS ; HE WAS BRUISED FOR
OUR INIQUITIES : THE CHASTISEMENT OF OUR PEACE WAS UPON HIM ;/
.AND WITH HIS STRIPES WE ARE HEALED. ALL WE, LIKE SHEEP, HAVE
^jGONE ASTRAT; WE HAVE TURNED EVEBT ONE TO HIS OWN WAV ; AND
THE LORD HATH LAID ON HIM TUE INIQUXTT OF US ALL. '
My design, in the selection of this passage, is to offer some
thoughts on the atonï:ment made by our Divine Redeemer,
for the sins of men. This doctrine, all must admit, is a
matter of pure revelation. Whether a sinner can be par¬
doned ; whether a human rebel can be reconciled to his
heavenly Sovereign—these are questions which anxious na¬
ture may ask ; bqt which God alone can answer. If this
pardon and reconciliation be possible, God alone can declare
the terms. And, adored be His mercy ! the Bible, which is
his only communication to man, speaks, on this most interest¬
ing of all topics, a language perfectly explicit and intelligi-
' ble. If there is any difficulty in the case, it is a difficulty
introduced by human philosophy, anxious to perplex what
God has made plain ; not to say, anxious to mend what God
has made perfect. Let us then close our ears to the reason¬
ings and conjectures of men, (for on this subject, what is
reasoning but conjecture?) and let us simply listen to the au¬
thoritative and unerring voice of Heaven. What saith the
Scripture ?
4
The chapter before us discloses the most wonderful and
appalling scenes ever exhibited on our guilty globe. Who
that peruses it, is not ready at once to pronounce a most
faithful and circumstantial narrative of the sufferings of the
s
Lord of glory? But on recollection, we perceive that it
was writtCDimore than seven hundred years before the Son
of God appeared among men ; and of course, that it is not
history, but prophecy^ Still, this circumstance, while it
enhances our surprise, confirms likewise our faith. No won¬
der that, in attentively comparing what is here recorded,
with the gospel history, infidels have been convinced that
Christianity must be true and divine. Indeed, if any doubt
after this, it cannot be for want of evidence. For their
conversion, we must look, not to the exhibition of truth, not
to the power of argument, but to a miracle of divine grace.
What astonishing things are presented on the face of this
inspired page ! The world's Creator, visiting this earth, and
on an errand of the kindest love ; receiving no homage ; wel¬
comed with no songs of grateful praise. The eternal god,
a man of sorrows^ and acqminted zixith grief He whom pros¬
trate angels adore, despised and rejected of men» Nay more,
Heaven joins with earth, to pour bitterness into the Redeem¬
er's cup. Jehovah, the just, the benevolent Jehovah, is
pleased to bruise him^ and to put him to grief Unparalleled
MYSTERY ! riow shall it be explained ?—One fact, and that
alone explains it. He suffered as a Substitute» He suffered,
not for himself, but for those whom he came to save. This,
the prophet unequivocally declares in the text ; and declares
in such variety and accumulation of language, as is calcu¬
lated to make the very strongest impression on the mind.
" Surely^he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows;
^'yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflict-
" ed. But 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 arc healed. All
*" we, like sheep, have gone astray ; we have turned every
" one to his own way ; and the Lord hath laid on him the
" iniquity of us alL"
â
I will not undertake, my brethren, to make this passage
plainer, by any comment of mine* The attempt would be
as abortive, as it is superfluous. In this, as in a thousand
other instances, the truths of inspiration, like the rays of
the sun, are best seen by their own light. The doctrine
which offers itself from this remarkable passage, is as simple
and obvious, as it is interesting. That the* sufferings of
Christ were eocpiaioty ; that they constitute a proper atonement
for sin ; this ^ou perceive at once, is the doctrine oi the
text. This is the great and momentous truth on which we
shall now insist. May the Spirit of truth guide our medita¬
tions, and deeply affect our hearts !
A moment's reflection may convince us, that, if any of
our sinful race are to be pardoned and saved, an atonement
is absolutely necessary. God is holy and just ; infinitely
and immutably holy and just. These attributes imply that
he has a perfect and irreconcilable aversion to all sin ; and
must manifest this aversion to his creatures. But how can
this be done, if sin be pardoned without an atonement?
Would not the great Jehovah, in this case, practically deny
himself? Would not the lustre of his glorious attributes be
awfully eclipsed and tarnished ?
Further-; as the Sovereign of the universe, God has given
his intelligent creatures a law. This law, while it requires
perfect obedience, must likewise be enforced by penalties.
Nor is it enough that these penalties be merely denounced.
They must be executed on those who incur them by trans¬
gression ; or on a Surety. Otherwise, where is the truth of
the Lawgiver? Where is the stability of the law ? Where
is the dignity of government? Would not a human sove¬
reign who should permit gross violations of his law to pass
unnoticed and unpunished, destroy at once his own reputa¬
tion, and the order and happiness of the community ? Should
the Sovereign of heaven and earth, act upon this plan, would
not his majesty be insulted? Would not his commands be
set at nought? Would not transgressors grow bold and
shameless in iniquity ? Would not universal misrule and
misery overspread the intelligent creation?
6
Still further ; it is easy to see that satisfaction, if made by
; 'a Surety, must correspond with the debt due from those in
whose behalf it is rendered. Mankind universally owe to
their heavenly Sovereign, a debt of perfect, undeviating
obedience. True, as apostate, depraved creatures, we arc
morally incapable of paying this debt. But our obligation
to pay it is not, on this account, cancelled. It is not even
impaired. The law of God is immutable and eternal as its
Author. Depraved as we are, it makes precisely the same
demands upon us, as if we were perfectly holy ; perfectly
inclined to obedience. We have likewise contracted a debt
of punishment. This results from the pénal sanction of the
law; and is proportionate to the evil of sin. It corresponds
with the majesty and glory of the Lawgiver, and with our
own obligations to obedience. Now if a Surety undertake
for us, he must pay our debt in both these regards.
Again*; the satisfaction rendered to the law and justice of
,God, in behalf of sinful men, must be infinite in value., On
no other supposition, can it correspond with the demands of
the divine law, or the demerit of sin. On no other supposi¬
tion, can those dire and destructive consequences already
mentioned, be effectually precluded.
These things being duly considered, it will not be difficult
to perceive what are the qxialificatims which must meet in
him who undertakes, as a Surety, to make atonement for
human transgression. It is obvious, that he must be per-'
fectly obedient and spotless ; free, not only from every taint,
but from every suspieion of offence against the violated law.
Yet he must possess our nature. The debt of obedience
and suffering, must-be paid in the same nature in which it
was contracted. At the same time, he must have a perfect
and unquestionable right to dispose of his life and services,
at his own pleasure. It is not less essential that his interpo¬
sition, his sufferings, his obedience, should be all unconstrain¬
ed and voluntary. And finally, he must possess that infinite
power and unbounded merit, which will enable him to go
through the mighty work without sinking under it; and
\
7
wbich will instamp a correspondent dignity and efficacy ort
his works and sufferings.* It is scarcely needful to say^
that in the whole universe, one being, and one alone is found,
• /
in whom all these qualifícations meet. Jesus Christ is that
being; Perfectly holy in himself, he has assumed our na-
ture. He has vtduntarily consented to bè the Substitute and
Surety of his people ^ to obey and to suffer^ not only for
their benefit, but in their stead. He is the Sovereign lord
and proprietor of his own life ; having power to lay it dozon,
and power to take it again. To crown all, he-is truly and pro¬
perly God—God manifest in the ßesh. He is therefore pei>
fectly capable of doing and suffering all which our case
requires, and of imparting an infinite efficacy and value, both
to his active and passive obedience. ^
Such is the Mediator, such the Surety, who has under¬
taken in our behalf. Such is the exalted and glorious Per¬
sonage who has obeyed the law w^hich we have violated ;
and who, in the language of the text, " bore our griefs, and
" carried our sorrows—was wounded for our transgressions,
" and bruised far our iniquities." His obedience, it has
been justly rémarked, " was a suffering obedience, and so
" expiatory : his death was the highest perfection of obedij-
" ence, and so meritorious." It seems therefore scarcely
proper to institute minute inquiries and distinctions as to the
precise place and use of his obedience and sufferings^ in the
economy of redemption, or in the salvation of men. Yet it
is somewhat natural to trace the sinner's pardon to the suf¬
ferings and sacrifice of the Mediator ; his justißcation and
heavenly felicity^ to that " everlasting righteousness" w^^^h
Christ has " brought in," and which is expressly declared
to be " unto all, and upon all those who believe."t . The
obedience and sufferings of the Savior were both essentially
necessary; and they were both infinitely important. By
his obedience, he proclaimed aloud, that the law of God,
however strict and spiritual, was worthy^ and was capable^ of
an entire compliance from man. It shewed the precise na^
* Se« Tarretín on the Atonement. f See Scott*s
ff
\
• A
ture and extent, and thcf perfect beauty, of such a compli¬
ance. The infinite dignity and glory of the Savior, likewise,
reflected a correspondent dignity and glory on the law which
he obeyed. And let it not be forgotten that, as this obedi¬
ence was not the obedience of a mere Tnan, but of a divine
Person^ originally above the law, yet voluntarily consenting
to be made under the latv, and solemnly constitutéd a Media¬
tor, his obedience, which was not necessary to his own ac¬
ceptance, but designedly vicarious, was of course capable of
being imputed to sinners of mankind, of being accepted on
their behalf, and thus of imparting to them a gratuitous title
to everlasting life. In every view, therefore, the obedience
of Christ vindicates and establishes the law. It does more.
It magnifies the law\ and makes it honorable in the highest
conceivable degree.
As to his sufferings, we contend not that the Redeemer
endured precisely the same misery, in kind and degree, to
which the sinner was exposed, and which he must otherwise
have endured. This was neither necessary, nor possible.
Infinite purity could not know the tortures of remorse. In¬
finite excellence could not feel the anguish of malignant
passions. Nor was it needful that the Savior, in making
atonement for human guilt, should sustain suflerings without
end. Such, it is admitted, must have been the punishment
of the sinner, had he borne it in his own person. But this
necessity results, not directly from the penal sanction of the
law, but from the impossibility that a finite transgressor
should, within any limited period, render satisfaction for his
sins. But the infinite dignity of the Savior imparted an in¬
finite value and efficacy to his temporary sufferings. Indeed,
it cannot be doubted that he endured as much of that same
misery to which the sinner stands exposed,» as consisted
with the perfect innocence, dignity and glory of his charac¬
ter. He suffered not only the united assaults of human cru¬
elty and infernal rage, but the far more torturing pains of
divine dereliction. And inasmuch as the Scripture -expressly
declares that, in redeeming us from the law, he was made a
9
cum for us, we are constrained to conclude that his suffer¬
ings wero a substantial execution of the threatening of the
law ; a real endurance of its penalty, so far as the nature of
the case admitted, or required. Nor will it surely be deni¬
ed that such unexampled sufferings inflicted on a person so
spotless, so exalted, and so dear to God, gave as much hon¬
or to his holy law, as could have been given by the eveiv
lasting sufferings of the whole human race. If the lightnings
of Sinai, and the fiercer flames ,of hell, reveal the divine in¬
dignation at sin, this indignation shines in still brighter and
I
more tremendous colors, from Calvary. There, indeed, the
whole chamcter of Deity has a signal and transcendent dis¬
play. Justice appears more awful^ as well as more amiable,
by its connexion with boundless mercy; and mercy appears
at once more venerable and more attractive, by its union with
inflexible justice. On the one hand, Jehovah is exhibited as
" A God all o*er, consummate, absolute.
Full erVd, in his whole round of rays complete.^
On the other, the pardon and salvation of man, which, apart
from the Savior's atonement, might seem to threaten the sub¬
version of the divine law and government, are now seen to
establish them in their highest dignity and glory. "
Having given this brief view of the doctrine of the atone¬
ment, we will proceed to shew that it is in reality the doc¬
trine of the Bible. This appears,
1. From the sacrifices appointed under the ancient dispen¬
sation. Indeeed, the general prevalence of sacrifices, from
the earliest times, and among all nations, no one acquainted
with history, either sacred or profane, will deny. Should it
be alleged that there is no natural or perceivable connexion
between slaying God's creatures, and conciliating his favor ;
Between the blood of a guiltless animal, and the pardon of
a guilty man ; we readily concede the fact. And we draw
from it the undeniable inference, that sacrifices must have
been originally, not a matter of human invention, but of di¬
vine appointment. As practised even among heathens, they
may be traced to supernatural revelation, though the prac-
^ V
10
f
tice remained, after all traces of the revelation were effaced«
That to the selected people of God, sacrifices were appoint'
ed in an immense variety, is evident from every part of the
Pentateuch. We have not opportunity to go into so large a
consideration of the subject, as might be profitable. Let
me simply point my hearers to the services of the an¬
nual day of atonement, as they are recorded in the sixteenth
chapter of Leviticus. On that occasion, the priest was to
slay, as sin offerings for himself and for the people, a bul¬
lock and a goat and to sprinkle their blood upon the mercy
seat, and before it. In immediate connexion with this sol¬
emn service, the priest was to take another animal called the
" scape goat," to lay both his hands upon its head, and con¬
fess over it all the iniquities and transgressions of the chil¬
dren of Israel ; in consequence of which the devoted animzd
is represented as bearing their iniquities. What could possi¬
bly be a more striking emblem of that divine Redeemer con¬
cerning whom the text declares that the Lord hath laid on him
the iniquity of iis all ? Thus likewise, with evident allusion to
the paschal lamb whose blood was to be sprinkled on the
door-posts, for the security of the Israelites, the insffired
Apostle declares : Even Christ our Passover is sacrificed for
us. Alluding to the sin-offerings under the Levitical dispen¬
sation, the same Apostle declares : He hath made him to be
sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteous¬
ness of God in him. Indeed, unless we admit the proper atone¬
ment of Christ, the whole system of ancient ceremonies and
sacrifices appears utterly insignificant, useless and absurd.
The distinguished, the highly favored-people of God were
plunged in deeper darkness than ever enveloped Egypt. It
is not possible, says an inspired Apostle, that the blood oj bulk
and goats should talce away sm. Reason adds its fullest sanc¬
tion to the same sentiment. To what purpose then were
those sheddings and sprinklings^ blood, so multiplied, and
so constantly recurring in the Jewish worship, if they did
not point to a real atonement by the blood of Christ?—But
«n this topic, of infinite moment, let reason be silent, and let
11
Inspiration speak. It speaks a language unequivocal and
decisive. The law had a shadow of good thirds to come, and
not Úe very image of the things.* When he (that is, Christ)
Cometh into the world, he saiûi. Sacrifice and ojfering thou wouldst
not, but a body hast thou prepared for me.—Lo I come {in the
volume of the book, it is written of me) to do thy mil, O God.
By the which will we are sanctified, through the offering of the
body of Jesus Christ, once for all. For by one offering he
hath perfected forever, them that are sanctified.^—Christ being
come, a High Priest of good things to come.... .neither by the
blood of goats and calves, but by his own bood, he entered once
into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for V5.t
2. The anguish and horror of the Redeemer's soul, pre¬
vious to his death, especially in the garden of Gethsemane,
afford strong argument that he died as an atoning sacrifíce
for sin. On no other principle can they be accounted for.
Surely the Son of God had not less fortitude than his disci¬
ples and followers, thousands of whom have triumphed in
the prospect, and ia the A'ery endurance of deaths the most
agonizing. The difference, the wide and awful difference,
doubtless was, that he endured in his soul, all that perfect
innocence could endure, of the penalty .of the divine law;
of the anguish due to sin. In one vast survey of his mighty
mind, he comprehended the dimensions of human guilt, the
curse of a violated law, the wrath of a holy God, due to
guilty man ; and in full view of all, he bared his guiltless
bosom to the sword of divine vengeance, uplifted against
his people. Never was there, never will there be, in the
universe of God, a sorrow like his sorrow. " His cries and
" tears, his agonies and sweats of blood, preach the doc- ,
trine of atonement, with dreadful power, and uncontested
" evidence."
3. The same doctrine was taught by our Redeemer, in the
institution of the sacramental supper. Of the bread he
said, " This is my body, which is broken for you." Of
the cup, " This cup is the New Testament in my blood,
m
» 1. } Heb. X. 5, 7,10.14 • t Heb. ix. 10,12
«
12
" which is shed for you—shed for many, for the remission
" of sins." On ànother occasion, he declared, " My flesh is
" meet indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. Whoso eateth
" my flesh and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life. Ex-
" cept ye' eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his
" blood, ye have no life in you." • How shall we explain
these expressions ; how can we possibly account for them,
but on the principle, that the sufierings and death of Christ
were a real atonement for sin ; and thus the food and life of
his people; the procuring cause of all their blessings and
consolations, in time and in eternity ?
In a word ; this precious and interesting doctrine is taught
us in the most plain and unequivocal expressions of Scrip¬
ture ; and this, not in a few instances, but in passages almost
continually recurring,both in the Old Testament, and the New.
Thus Christ is expressly exhibited as the/»ropiíiaíion for sin.
His obedience and sufierings are represented as a sacrifict
for sin. He is described as the Lamb of God, lahich taketh
away the sin of the world. He is declared to have ojfered
himself without spot to God^ to have given his life a ransom
for many ; to have poured out his soul to deaths and to have
made his soul an offirit^ for sin* He is declared to have
purged away the sins of his people ; to have washed them from
their sins in his own blood ; to have borne their sins in his own
body on the tree^ to have been made a sin-offering^ ondoi
curse for them; to have been cut off^ but not for himself ¡ but
that he might finish transgression^ make an end of sin^ make
reconciliation for iniquity^ and bring in everlasting righteous^
ness* In agreement with these representations, Christians
are said to be forgiven for his sake ; to be cleansed by his
blood from all sm ; to have redemption through his blood; tú
be reconciled to God by his death ; and to bé made righteous
by his obediénce. Such is a mere specimen of what is contain¬
ed in that heaven-descended volume, of which every page
is refulgent with the light of truth ; every sentence replete
with instruction ; every word susceptible of a definite mean¬
ing. Let then the question be solemnly asked ; If exprcs-
13
sions such as theses do not convey the idea of a proper atone¬
ment, where are the words which can convey it ? If they
do not establish the doctrine beyond a rational doubt, where
can we possibly find a resting-place ? If they were designed
to bear z different construction, must not the Bible itself be
calculated (I speak it with horror) to perplex and mislead us ?
If what has been advanced on this great subject be true, it
directly follows, that every system of religion which denies
the atonement, must be radically defective and erroneous.
It equally follows, that every system of atonement which
omits or rejects the great principle of substitution must be, at
least, extremely questionable.
A scheme which represents the atonement as an exhibition^
or display ; Q. symbolical transaction merelj I which rejects or
omits the Savior's substitution ; which denies that his suffer¬
ings were vicarimis ; and of course denies that they consti¬
tuted a proper satisfaction for the sins of men—such a scheme
is new to most Christians, and needs to be well examined,
before it is embraced.
On this System, I shall offer a few remarks. '
In the first place. It tends apparently, at least, to subvert
the law. It declares that " the atonement is something dif-
ferent from the execution of the law, and a substitute for
" it that " it did not fulfil the law, or satisfy its demands
on transgressors." In accordance with these views, it de¬
clares that " the justification of believers is not founded on
" the principles of law and distributive justice and fur¬
ther, that it is " a real departure from the regular course of
" justice ; and such a departure from it, as leaves the claims
of the law on the persons justified, forever unsatisfied."
Without commenting at large on suggestions so peculiar,
and so grating (as 1 apprehend) to the ears and hearts oX
most Christians, I will simply set before you the Savior's
own intentions, in his advent and mediation ; and these, as
declared in his own words. " Think not," says he, " that I
" am come to destroy the law, or the prophets : I am not
14
" come to destroy, but to fulfil. For verily I say unto you,
" till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no
" wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled." Surely, then,
his atonement was not " a svAstitute for the execution of the
" law." On the contrary, his obedience and sufferings were
a substantial fulfilment of its precept, and its penalty ; and
were designed to procure the justification and salvation of
men, not through " a departure from the regular course of
" justice not by " leaving the claims of the law forever un-
" satisfied 5" but in perfect accordance with the immutable
and everlasting principles, both of law and justice. ' •
The Apostle to the Romans speaks the same language.
Having explained at large the method of justification by
faith without the deeds of the law, he pauses, asd inquires ;
" Do we then make void the law through faith ?" Does this
mode of justification vacate or impair the law ? " God for-
" bid i" he replies ; " yea, we establish the law." By this
method of justification through the sufferings and righteous¬
ness of Christ, we place the law of God on a firm, imper¬
ishable basis ; we secure to it all its sacred rights, and en¬
compass it with everlasting glory.
Let us beware, my beloved hearers, of the admission of
any principle which brings into question the immutability,
the indispensable obligations, of the divine law. Its advo¬
cates may be guiltless in their intentions. But every such
principle tends directly to subvert the foundations both of
religion and morality. It opens all the flood-gates of error.
Among the numberless corruptions which have infested
Christianity, it would be diflicult to find one, which may not
be traced to this verv source.
2. This scheme gives us such views of the divine charac¬
ter, as are equally inexplicable and distressing. It declares
that the impression intended to be made on rational beings,
by the sufferings and death of Christ, was, that " God is a
" holy and righteous God ; that while inclined to mercy, he
" cannot forget the demands of justice." Now, upon the
generally admitted principle, that Christ was a Substitute,
15
and that his sufferings were vicarious, all this is perfectly
natural and plaiiu But what if this principle be discarded ?
Can the sufferings of Christ explain any thing, or vindicate
any thing, in the divine character and administration ? Far
otherwise. They must ihemsdves need to be explained apd
vindicated. A Being of spotless innocence, and divine dig
nity ; a Being adored by angels, and dear to God ; a Being,
in short, the most lovely and glorious that the intelligent
creation ever saw ; is subjected to sufferings more compli¬
cated and severe than were ever before endured in our
world ; and all this, not by way of substitution ; not by way
of satisfaction for the sins of others ; but of exhibition, or dis¬
play ! All this, to convince the universe that God is holy and
just; the Friend of righteousness, and the Enemy of nothing
but sin ! ^
3. It is a serious question whether the theory in view does
not comprise a virtual denial of the atonement itself. It
leaves us the name ; but what does it leave of the reality ?
An exhibitmi is not an atonement. A display is not an atone¬
ment. A mere symbolical transaction is not an atonement.
To employ either of these terms in such a sense, is a cata-
chresis of the harshest kind. If, as we have seen, the princi¬
ples of substitution, of vicarious suffering, and a proper
satisfaction to the violated law and justice of God, are all
essential to constitute the nature of atonement for sin ; does
it not follow, of course, that a theory of atonement, which
rejects these principles,-virtually abandons the doctrine it
professes to maintain ?
Where then, let it be asked, in the fourth place, is the
foundation of the believer's hope? It is a notorious fact,
that the great body of Christians in every age, have embrac¬
ed the doctrine of the vicarious sufferings and obedience of
their Savior. Pressed with a sense of guilt, they have taken
refuge in his atoning blood. Conscious of the imperfection
of their best obedience, they have trusted in his righteous¬
ness alone. United to their Redeemer by living faith, they
have assured themselves of a personal interest in his atone-
le
ment and righteousness. And they have exulted in the
thought, that this method of salvation met all the demands,
and secured all the honors, of the divine law and justice*
Shall Christians now be told that this is mere dream and de-
lu^on ; that no proper satisfaction for their sins has ever been
made; that their justificatioii is nothing but an absolute par"
don ; and that even this is a " departure from the regular
^'course of justice?'' Doctrine like this is calculated to
appal the believer's heart, and plant thorns in his dying
pillow. It is even calculated to send a pang to the bo¬
soms of the blest; to silence those anthems of praise which
the redeemed on high are offering " to Him that loved
them, and washed them from their sins in his own blood."
It remains to remark, that this theory is utterly irrecon¬
cilable with Scripture. How evident is it, my brethren, that
on a topic on which reason neither tells us any thing, norpre-
iends to tell us any thing; a topic which constitutes, far more
than any thing else, the theme^ the burden of the Bible;
we must resort to the Bible for instruction. To this sacred
volume we must come with minds unbiassed, uncommitted
—I might say, unoccupied and vacant. In short, we must
come, not like philosophers to reason, but like children to
learn. If, neglecting this obvious course, we gravely sit
down to form a theory of our own—to decide, indepen-
ently of revelation, what the atonement must be, and what
it must not be; we involve ourselves in tenfold darkness.
We may produce a theory which shall be a compound of
human philosophy and weakness, (for here, extremes not
unfrequently meet;) but we shall wander far, very far from
the truth. The theory of which we, have spoken,'scarce¬
ly professes to ground itself on any express declarations '
of Scripture. The text on w^hich it mainly relies for sup'
port, does not support it. Because God hath set forth Jesus
Christ to be a propitiation to declare his righteousness ;
it surely does not follow that the manifestation of God's
righteousness is the sole and exclusive end of the sacrifice
of" Christ. Indeed, we have seen already, that it is only
0
17
in the light of a proper satisfaction for sin, that the sofferings
of Christ declare the righteousness of God. It is only in this
character, that, they exhibit God as just, while he justifies
the believing sinner. The scheme, then, which denies that
the sufferings of Christ were vicarious, renounces all support
from this text. And where will it find countenance from
any other ? ,
If a theory of gospel doctrine which wants support from
Scripture, is utterly objectionable ; what shall we say of the
?ame theory, if it stand in direct opposition to repeated and
reiterated passages of the Bible ? What shall we say of a
theory which cannot be believed, till a great portion of this sa¬
cred book be disbelieved, or explained away, or tortured into
a new sense by criticism, or evaporated in metaphor ? If noth¬
ing is to be left us, but a metaphorical atonement^ who can as¬
sure us of any thing more than a metaphorical pardon, a
metaphorical justification, a metaphorical deliverance from
the wrath to come?
I know it is objected to the plain, old-fashioned, scriptural
view of the atonement, which we have given, that reason dis¬
claims it. " To suppose that Christ was really our sponsor^
*'and that he suflfered in this character;" this, it is alleged,
would involve such a transfer of legal obligations and lia-
"bilities and merits, as is inadmissable:" This objection
comes in the guise of philosophy. Yet one of the greateat
of philosophers had very different views. " Vicarious pun¬
ishment," says the profound Butler,* is a providential ap-
"pointment of every day's experience." He adds, The ob¬
jection to redemption by the sufferings of Christ, is an''ob¬
jection, " not against Christianity, but against the whole gen-
" eral constitution of nature." And farther; It amounts to
" no more than this, that a divine appointment cannot be ne-
^'cessary, or expedient, because the objector does not discern it
" to he Í0." Here, my brethren, lies the grand difficulty.
We assume the character oí judges^ when no character be¬
longs to us, but that of criminals and learners. We would
* Analogy of Religion, ^c. SfQ,
18
confine the Sovereign of the world to our own rules, wheir
by those rules we must inevitably perish. The proper
amount of the objection just stated, is this: Since mankind
have universally sinned; since they can make no atonement
for themselves ; since the case admits no sponsorship, no
substitution ; since the unalterable sentence of the law is
eternal death—what then ? TTmr salvation is utterly impossibles-
Such is the imposing and tremendous logic by which every
ray of human hope is blotted out forever, and all the mil-
Hons of the fallen family are plunged in absolute despair !,
But the objection comes too late. Without hesitation, and
without fear of contradiction, it may be asserted, that by a
Surety, or Representative, the character and the condition of
every human being has been stamped already. And the same
Book which reveals the fact, lets us know, that if a different
character and destiny await any of us, they must come pre¬
cisely in the same way; that is, by a Surety, or Represen¬
tative. Hear the inspired Apostle. " If by one man^s of-
" fence, death reigned by one ; much more they who receive
" abundance of grace, and of the gift of righteousness, shaB
" reign in life by one, Jesus Christ. As by the offence of
J one, judgment came uipotí all men to condemnation ; even so
" by the righteousness of one, the free gift came upon all men
unto justification of life. For as by one mane's disobedi-
4
Sence,-many were made sinners; so by the obedience
of one, shall many be made righteous."*—The divine
. constitution iiere declared, I am not now to justify^ nor to
plain. My object is simply to assert.^ and to prove it. Let ev¬
ery hearer judge whether this inspired passage docs or does
not declare the doctrine of sponsorship and substitution; of
vicarious obedience and suffering; of the justification and
salvation of sinners through the merit of Jesus Christ.
' Still it is objected, that if the atonement of Christ fulfilled
the law, the acquittal of the sinner must be an act oijustice^
not of grace. To this objection we reply, that if the sins of
men were, strictly speaking, pecuniary debts, then, by whomr
* Rom. V. 17,18,19.
f
19
4
«ever they are paid, the debtor, from that moment, has a
Tightful claim to a discharge. But the sins of men are not
pecuniary debts. They are offences against a righteous
•God, which might most justly be punished in the person of
every offender. But he has instituted a process of salvation,
•every step of which is brightened with beams of infinite
grace. It was grace which laid the plan, and determined to
tidmit a Mediator. By grace the Mediator was provided
and sent; It is grace which imparts the gospel ; which con¬
quers the heart ; which bestows, in short, every blessing
upon every believer, from the first moment of his conversion,
lo his admission to heaven. Who can deny that in all this,
there are infinite displays of mercy? And who will contend
that the grace is less, because, through the matchless wisdom
•of Deity, all its displays are rendered consistent with ihe
sacred rights of justice ? Did it ever enter the mind or heart
of an enlightened believer, that he was less indebted for his
•salvation, because it came to him, not in mere absolute sov-
ereignty, but through the channel of his. Redeemer's blood ?
»
But it is asked Í If Christ was a Substitute, for whom was
he substituted ? If he made a proper satisfaction for sin, did
he satisfy for the sins of all, or of a part only ?—From some
real difficulties attending these questions, occasion has ap-
«
parently been taken to deny both his substitution and his
satisfaction altogether. But surely, my hearers, this is a
most dangerous principle. Would it not lead us to discard
the whole system of revealed truth? If the Bible contains
doctrines hard to be understood ; and even apparently at
variance .with each other ; should we not still receive them
with implicit assent; humbly waiting for that world of su¬
perior light, in which they will blaze upon the mind in all
their lustre, and in all their harmony ?
Much difficulty would at once vanish from the subject,
should we consider the atonement, rather in reference to
the law and justice of God, than to the numbers of mankind
to be finally saved by it. And this is the proper mode of
considering it. So far as we can perceive, all that the Sa-
20
%
Víor has rendered, of obedience and suffering, must have
been rendered, though but a single sinner of the human
family were to have been saved. Nor have we reason to
doubt, that, had it pleased the Supreme Being to save the
whole human race, ivhat Christ has done and suffered,
would have been amply sufficient for the end. If these
■ principles be admitted, the atonement may be considered
without respect to numbers. It may be viewed as a kind
provision of the Father of mercies, for his perishing human
family ; as opening the door of mercy, and of hope, on a
dying world.
If the question still recur. For whom did Christ die as a
Substitute?—we reply, that whatever difficulties meet us
here, some things are perfectly plain. That he died for all
the elect, none will deny. Nor can it be doubted that his
death had a special reference to them. At the same time, we
have an equal warrant to affirm that he died for all that
should believe on his name, to the end of time. Nor need
we hesitate to add, that such is the effect of his intervention
and death, that a free and sincere offer of mercy is made,
"wherever the gospel comes, to every sinner that breathes the
air. If any perish now, they perish by closing on them¬
selves the door of hope, which Heaven has opened. They
perish, not because no Savior, no atonement have been pro»
vided, but because the Savior and his atonement are rejected.
These things are all plain and indisputable; because they
are in substance declared and repeated in the volume of un¬
erring truth. If any diffjculties still remain, they may pro¬
bably be ascribed to the imperfection of our faculties, and
to our present limited views. The Bible, rich as it is in
practical instruction, does not profess to solve all our per¬
plexities, nor to answer all our curious inquiries on every
possible subject. Let us confidently follow where it/leads;
and where its directions terminate, let us humbly pause.*
One thing is somewhat remarkable. Those objections
which we have briefly noticed, with perhaps some scores of
others, which, in the eyes of jpinutc critics, have appeared so
21
grievous, and which have raised so much learned dust among
philosophers; have given no trouble at all to plain common«
sense Christians. The thing, thus objected to, they have
found in their Bibles ; and because they have found them
there, they have been simple enough rto helkm them.
Let us follow these simple-hearted Christians; content with
their happy ignorance; and unenvious of the self-inflicted
pains of minute criticism, and misguided philosophy.*
My respected hearers ; it is with heart-felt reluctance and
pain, that I have mingled so much of controversy in the dis¬
cussion of the subject of the Atonement; a subject never
designed, surely^ to perplex our minds with the subtleties of
debate ; but rather to overwhelm every human heart with a
tide of grateful admiration and love* But an imperious
sense of duty has constrained me. Should I have increased
the darkness in which the subject has been involved, I should
be unhappy indeed ; nor less unhappy, to have infringed on
the sacred principles of Christian meekness and decorum.
My simple wish has been to bear testimony to a doctrine
which I verily believe to be the article of a standing or fall¬
ing church; the article of a standing or falling religion. And
were this the last act of my life, I should wish it to be sub¬
stantially the same. My humble attempt 1 submit to the
candid judgment of my hearers; especially, of my bi*ethren
in the holy ministry ; but most of all, to the patronage.and
blessing of our common and glorious Lord.
*On the hist^cal notices respecting the atonement, which accompany the theo¬
ry briefly reviewed, 1 shall not remark at large. With deference to the learned
and laborious Author, I would, however, propose a single question. Do they not
proceed on a very material errort Apparently they take it for granted that
Christianity, like most human sciences, existed at ûrst, in a very crude and imper¬
fect state; and during a lapse of years, received its ful! polish and perfection from
the efforts of human genius and learning. But is not the very reverse of ibis, the
real fact? Did not Christianity eome from the lips of its Author.and from the pen
of his most distinguished Apostle, in all its divine purity and perfection? Was
not the first moment of its mingling with the subtleties of human philosophy, the
moment of its corruption ? Have not all the attempts of self confident metaphy¬
sicians, in every subséquent age, to illustrate and improve it, served only to dete¬
riorate and darken it ?
Sad indeed would be the condition of most Christians, could they not under¬
stand the doctrine of the atonement, unless made acquainted with all that ¿earned
fathers have dreamed about it, and all the light which has poured upon it from the
dark ages. But the case is far otherwise, llie Bible is in every hand ; and all
which is most essential in its eapiial and favorite doctrine^ beams on the mind of
the bumble, praying Christian, with the radiance of the noon day sun.
2?
In view of the subject of the Atonement, a variety of in-
' teresting practical reflections throng upon the mind. But
your patience is more than exhausted ; and they must be
waived altogether.
Did the time allow it, I would respectfully submit to my
Brethren in the ministry, a simple question. Would we
wish our immortal hearers to embrace the gospel, must we
not preach to them the gospel; the real, simple gospel; un¬
polluted by human mixtures; ungarnished by foreign orna¬
ments; unobscured by the boasted light, the "darkness vis-'
ible," of false philosophy ? Would we wish them to " re¬
ceive the atonement,^' as the ground of their immortal hope,
must we not preach to them a real atonement ; something on
which an immortal hope can be built?—The great danger,
at the present day, resj)ecting Christianity, is not lest its
open enemies should overthrow it (as well might they hope
to pluck the stars from their spheres;) but lest its professed
advocates should unwarily betray it. There is a licentious¬
ness in modern biblical criticism, particularly the biblical
criticism which is poured upon us in such floods from Ger¬
many, which sets truth and common sense at absolute defi¬
ance. Under the plausible pretence of illustrating the
Scriptures, it shrouds them in impenetrable darknes§. With
unparalleled effrontery, it expunges from the Bible its mira¬
cles, and its mysteries; and with cold-blooded apathy, re¬
signs all its peculiar doctrines into the hands of the infidel.*
—My brethren ; if the gospel is defended at all, it must be
*ïsit notatleast questionable, whether the frequent and familiar perasal^ by theo-
logicál students, of those writings which, beneath a flimsy veil of professed Christiani¬
ty, concealthe wildest scepticism, and even iJie rankest inñdelity, is either expedient
or safe ? The contagion may not be communicated at once, but the mind may be in¬
sensibly polluted, its reverence for truth gradually impaired, and thus every princi¬
ple of religious belief ultimately undermined and destroyed. Mrs. Carter, the
celebrated translator of Epictetus, speaking of VoHaire, remarks, have not seen
any of his writings; nor, from the character of them, do 1 ever design it 1 should
as soon think of playing with a toad, or a viper, as of reading such blasphemy and
impiety, as I am told are contained in some of his works." Such was the natural
and correct sentiment of a mind of the flrst order; a mind ardent in the pursuit of
every species of useful knowledge ; and wholly untinctured with superstition. It is
much to be doubted whctfler the worst writings of the celebrated French infidel«
are more calculated to infuse into the heart the mortal poison of infidelity^ than the
writings of many German critics, expositors and theologians. Their tendency is
precisely that which Dr Johnson ascribed to the theolc^ical works of Dr. Priestly.
They vnstttU every thing^ and settle nothing.
23
*
defended on its own peculiar, characteristic, unaccommodat¬
ing principles. Nor is it, on any other principles worih de¬
fending. Let lis, then, in an age of the most alarming laxity
and innovation, not be ashamed of the gospel of Christ. Let
us preach constantly, plainly, boldly, and to our latest
breath, those very doctrines which human depravity op¬
poses, which proud philosophy disdains, but which have
poured balm into the hearts, and shed the light of glory
around the dying beds, of myriads of humble, heaven-
taught Christians, in every age.
Permit me, before I close, to remind this Assembly, in a
word, of the important duty (or may I not call it, the delight¬
ful privilege,) of the evening—that of manifesting their love
to a dying Savior, by shewing kindness to his living family.
Were this Savior now on earth, poor, suffering, neglected by
a thankless world, would it, beloved hearers, would it be a
pleasure beyond utterance to be permitted to console and
jrclieve him ? A portion of this sublime pleasure you may en¬
joy, even now. This evening, he commends to your com¬
passion, the suffering widows and children of his deceased
ministers. He assures you that the kindness you shew to
thein, if sincere, he will accept as shewn to himself. And
more ; he will say in the final, decisive day, " Inasmuch as
" ye have done it to one of the least of these, ye have done
" it to me."
«
The National Amuversary.
IN
FIDO ACntfOWM
f
4
Prtached Jnlj 4th, 1824,
IN THE
FIRST VXITARUJr CHUEÇB,
WASHINGTON CITY ;
HPith • chort addreu reipwUiig 1h$ vitm of CdutSpatíiM
ßoeUtjf.
Bj ROBERT LITTLE, Minister of the Chvrch.
Washington :
Wat & Gidion, Paiirmns anb Boos-inranne.
18^,
THE NATIONAL ANNIVERSARY.
SERMON I.
»
Peut xjcvt 5« Hiou shall speak and say before the Lord thy God» a Syiiaii
ready to perish WasRsy ârfher ; and he went into Egyi^ and sojourned
' there with a few» and became there a nation great» mighty and populous«
A very general impression prevails in society unfa¬
vourable to what are call ed political sermons. The pre-
judice against them perhaps has originated in a great
measure, from not distinguishing between what is really
essential to the Body-Politic, and what only concerns
the paities into which that body is sometimes unhappily •
«
divided. As the contentions of parties in the state are
always irritating, disoi^anizing and injurious, by their
direct influence, and only remotely beneflcial: the
christian minister (as such) should certainly have nothing
to do with them. He must not " do evil that good may
come.^' If he lend the influence of talent and religion
to support a faction, or aid intrigue, he has forgotten the
*
proper obligations of his office, and degraded himsejf in
the estimation of the wise, by becoming the servant and
tool of ambitious men. But Christianity no where for-
1rids us to be advocates or intercessors for the general
«
welfare, to support the laws and civil institutions of -the
country in which we reride, and to use our utmost exer^
tions to make our fellow citizens sensible of their nation-
«
al advantages and duties. Instead of forbidding this, the
very spirit of our relimen requires it. It is tiie religion
4
\
(S truth, ai fireedom, and of public happiness. It is not
,confined in its instructions or consolations to individua]
pian» it is adapted to elevate» dignify and improve the
species ; it has already in all its forms ameliorated the
condition of humanity» and even where it is most impe^
fectly understood» and encumbered with much remam*
ing superstition» it has excited aspirations after knov-
ledge and liberty» which» however suppressed by
cumstances» will never cease to operate unseen» till the
nations shall attain intellectual maturity» and cast awa|
I
their " childish things." National happiness cannot he
secured without religion. Righteousness exalteth a
nation." It is not necessary to this end» that the ciifi
magistrate should exclutively patronize any religion» ar
establish its usages or opinions by law. This is equa%
injurious to liberty and truth. But let the ministen
religion shew the importance of its principles to socidf
as well as to individuals» let them enforce the advanti^
and obligations of citizenship, as well as of domesticité
let them protest agrinst national vices» and shew thl
causes for national contentment and gratitude» and thdr
services will have the happiest effect in promotiog the
solid greatness and moral excellence of their countij*
Thus Jesus did in his ministry» though it was reject^
Thus Paul admonished the christians throughout fils
Roman Empire to do. But of all nations on the
the earth» there is none wherein these duties may In
discharged more advantageously» and more consrior
tiouriy» than in the United States, for besides the est-
6titutional freedom of discussion l^t every citizen has a
Hght to use, the facts of its history are of so recent date,
its laws and political arrangement^ so public and well
understood, the system of its government so entirely
popular, that the idea of disaffection (which in all Eu¬
ropean gövemments is a continual bugbear) is scarcely
within the range of suspicion. Besides the advantages
of our institutions are to the nation so great, and to in¬
dividuals so small, that eulogium, though it may be sus-,
pected of pride or vanity, is seldom obnoxious to the
chaise of selfishness. > ' ' ^
The great event the anniversary of which we have
lived to celebrate once more, is of that magnitude and
importance not only to this country but to the world,
itself, that its nature and principles, form one of the
finest subjects for philosophical and religious improve¬
ment or speculation. At the period of its occurrence
1 was an in&nt, in the country then under an adminis¬
tration as adverse to British liberty, as to yours. Had
their uncmistitutional and tyrannic conduct succeeded
here, it is very probable that not a vestige of rational
freedom would have existed at this day in England, or
on the continent of Europe. From the first date of my
capacity for exercising personal opinion, I have not
ceased to imbibe and maintain those views of human
rights, upon which Âmetican independence is built, and
to admire and love those who have devoted themselves
as martyrs to th» imperishable cause. We are required
in the scriptures to " consider the works of the Lord,
. ô
and io meditate on the operations of his hand.*' The
revolutions of empire, by which overgrown power htt
been broken up, and the sceptre of dominion transferred
from one people to another, are among, the most wott*
derfiil and instructive memorials of the disposing hand
of the great Almighty governor. The majestic eBer0
that called the world into being, that set the mountahi
on their bases, and poured out the floods of the Ocea%
overwhelms us with wonder when we contemplate iH
displays ; but the disposal of the human mind, the tmw
ing of the hearts of the people, and changing the rdlH^
tive positions and . influence of millions of intelligttl
agents, so as to form new moral and political combinatuM#
affecting the condition of the whole world ; this isá»
object of. more refined and curious investigation, Ü
seems to discover more profound wisdom, more spi]#t
uality of operation, and is more clearly demonstrativi^
of the intellect and benevolence that constantly prcsM#
over and govern the whole creation.
Almost all the details of the Jewish scriptures rehto'
\o this subject, they are in fact a history of the moni
government of the world, so far as it was connected'
with the origin and fortunes of that singular peqdfe
'/They were thus taught to recognise the hand of Go#
in every thing that affected their prosperity, to acknove^
ledge their dependence on him, and to consider thoti
national safety as identified with their morality and re^
ligion. One of their most beautiful and affecting insti*
tutions having these objects in view, was their amnui
t * \
%
ftiu}t(^tbe First Fruits as enacted in the chapter before
us ; Terse 1—11. When Jacob, thâr &ther, who was
Syrian descent, went into Egypt, he was in extreme
distress,, by reason of the famine that prevai|ed in the
land of Canaan. His fmnily cousisting then about
70 persons must have perished but for the food and pro-
tieetion they found in Egypt. . After the death Jacob
and the first generation of his sons, their descendants
beeame objects of suspicion and dislike to the Egyptians,
and they grieviously oppressed them, and tocdi very un¬
righteous means to prevent thrir increase. Notwith-
standmg which they multiplied and grew so that in two
craturies they numbered 600,000 souls, at which period
#
they burst the bands of oppression, and went back to the
country. where their fathers had sojourned, and took
possession of it. To this the text refers. The exodus
Imnel out of Egypt, is a &ct confirmed by. all the
glimmering light, that fragments of History, and inonu-
mmits of human transactions, can be expected to throw
OVOT an. event of such remote antiquity. Chronology
refers it to a period, yery near the foundation of the
of Athens by a' somewhat similar emigration from
Egypt under Cecrops ; and about four hundred yeai^
^ before the siege of Troy by thedîreeks. At that period
, Africa seems to have been the hive whence a redundant
I
population swarmed, to settle and improve the unculti-.
T^ed and uninhabited parts of the earth. There is but
Utile analogy between what is said in our text of the
Israélites, and the rircumstances of the first settlers in
8
*■
America, or the condition of their descendants : butin
one point it is sufficiently strong to justify our using the
passagé as a motto of our morning discourse. They
came her^ to sojourn, a small and feeble band, and they
have " become a nation, great, mighty, and populous."
I shall briefly glance at their history,, as terminating
in the independent sovereignty which was proclaimed 48
years ago this day, and which has been confirmed by such
a growth to power, wealth and numbers, as we now wit¬
ness. A history replete with most striking exemplifica¬
tions of human character in all its varieties, and of the
signal interventions of Providence for thq benefit oí
mankind.
The two principal settlements made on the coast of
North America, after it had been for unknown ages m
possession of savage tribes of Indians, were both fnmi'
Great Britain ; and they became the germ of all that
immense population which is now dispersed over more
than 900,000 square miles of territory ; and which wiB
doubtless in process of time extend from the shores oí
the Atlantic to those of the Pacific Ocean.
The accession to this population by settlers from other
countries, or by additional emigration, has been far less
considerable than is frequently supposed. Its prodi¬
gious and rapid increase has originated more in natural,
than artificial causes. The abundance and variety
food, the unconfined extent of land to be occupied, the
absence of despotic power, the facilities with which all
the necessaries of life can be obtained, and the constat
doaand for additional labourers, tbese are tbe adarces
sf an increased and rapidly inereasii^ population, which
is destined tosubdueancP^plenish thk part of the earth.
- The first successful and permanent settlement was
made on the coast of Virginia, in 1607, by" about 100
En^tsdimen, who pbnted themselves in the midst of an
immense wilderness, surrounded by tiiousands of untu'
tmred and savage Indians. With innumerable hardships
and severo diseases, they struggled through the twelve
first y^rs of their residence, and in consequence of
saoCestive emigrations, and their own natural increase
di^ amounted to more than 3000 at that period,
' It was then, in 1620, that the second great branch of
the same &mily arrived at Plymouth, in Massachusetts,
at least they gave that name^ to the pla& where they
bnded, because it was' from that port in England that
they sûled. This band of Pilgrin^ also conmsted of
about 100. They were followed in a few years by 300
more' who settied at Salem. And in about two years
afterwards, more than 2000 persons had emigrated and'
settled in New England. The character of these set¬
tlers, and their great motive for leaving their native
crnmtry and crossing 3000 miles of ocean, to fix them-
à i
semes in an uncultivated wilderness, are too well known
to require explanation, except for the sake of our chil-
^»en, to whom these great providential events ought to
[be rendered familiar, that they may know their duties,.
¡and transmit the knowledge of them to future genera-
^ons. were strongly attached to their own coun¬
try, and left it with sorrowful hearts and streaming eyes ;
- 2
10
but they were more strongly attaehed to religion, in
plainness and unostentatious simplicity. At that time
(the reign of Charles I.) the government of England was
becoming daily more arbitrary, and the national church
which had been reformed in a preceding reign,
(Elizabeth,) was adding one piece of pagentry to another,
and making rapid strides towards a complete reconcilia¬
tion with the mother church of Rome. Ecclesiastical
splendor, and civil tyranny, have always gone hand in
hand. The Puritans (as they were called) whatever
intolerant and erroneous notions they might retain, and
however divided as to the external forms and discipline
of their church es,-we re distinguished by zeal for person¬
al piety and moral purity, in opposition to tlie levity,
ceremonial observances and obsequiousness to power, that
distinguished the members of the national church. They
asserted the exclusive authority of Jesus Christ to make
religious rules for christian men ; and therefore held in
abhorrence the spiritual supremacy claimed by the
King of England, as much as they did the usurpations of
the Pope.
The English hierarchy of the church, used all
means in their power to vex and oppress these men, who
were as thorns in their side ; and the royal government
by perversions of the laws, and stretching the preroga;
tive, harrassed them by fines, imprisonment, and almost
every kind of oppression.
The result was, that a part preferred to expatriate
themselves, and find on this western contint a retreat
from persecution, a home where they might act accord-
iag to tte dictates of conscience^ and enjoy áie blessings
of dvil and reUgious liberty, where they thought the
am of tyrumy could not reach them ; and the othm* part
remaining in their native land, after a few more years of
suffering, succeeded in rousing the nation to a discovery
of Ae dan^rous precipice to which it was urging, the
old English spirit of resistance to oppr^ion revived,
and the persecuting priest, and the despotic prince, were
botí» emiducted to the block.
.The intrepid sons of freedom who had settled in
i^Linerica, seem to have had no thought of a political
separation frmn the parent stock. Their education,
their religion, their dearest coiinexions, their laws, their
halnits and prejudices, were ajl essentially Englbh.
They had escaped from her immediate government,' as a
noble minded youth may break lose from the house of
hb birth, the home of hb fathers, the scene of hb
earliest joys and assocbtions, because he cannot endure
some transient tyranny, riot and debauchery, that has
gained ascendency in the domain ; but they still looked
back to her, shores with affection, and voluntarily bound
themselves, to obey her laws, and maintain her side in
every Mendship and quarrel, if so ' be they were not
mcdested in those respects for which they left their native
land.
• 1 »
, IJpmi. the arrlvd of the first emigrants off Cape Cod,
"before landing they formed themselves into a body
politic under the crown of England, for the purpose of
framing laws, &c." for the government of the colony.
12
For 150 years did the Americans abide by this
«
arrangement, into which they had entered with, such
seriousness 'and sincerity, and how much longer they
would have done so, it is now impossible to conjecture.
But whoever has read the history of the fidelity and
exertions of the colonists on the side of Great Britain,
in the successive wars with France and Spain, and in the
conquest of Canada ; whoever knows the sentiments that
inspired the breasts of sueh men as Franklin and Wash¬
ington, down to the latest period of that connexion j
must be convinced that it was nothing but the corruption
and despotic principles that had again risen to a most
alarming height in the British government, the injustice
and intrigues of its agents, and the rash miscalculating
tyranny of its parliament, urged on by an insatiable
ambition, that snapped the cord which bound this coun¬
try to the destinies of Europe, never to be re-united
more. At the period at which we began this sketch, a
few hundred Englishmen constituted the whole white
population of North America. In 154 years when the
Declaration of Independence was issued—you numbered
one million and a half, so true it was, that the few whd
came here to sojourn, had became "a nation, great,
mighty and populous." Since then 48 more years have
rolled away, and what are you now? Twenty-four, in¬
dependent, but United States, containing by-the last
census nearly 10 millions of souls. What is this, that
God hath wrought? 0! come behold the works of the
Lord, and acknowledge his power and glory among the
children of men ! It is he that has given you cities for
13
hi^tAtioD; and enabled you to sow fieUb a^ plant vine¬
yards which yield for yoursehres» fruits increase. It
is be that sets the poor on high frotn'afflictíon aiid maketh
hb funilles like a flock: He blesseth them also so that
they are multiplied greatly! ■ "Oh that men would
therefore praise the Lord for his goodness, and for hb
wmtderî'sl works to the children of men!" (Ps. 107.)
But you will miserably mistake, thb whole matter,
and ul^ately foil of the glory to which providence
seems conflicting this nation, if you consider the revo¬
lution comtnemorated thb day only as food for your van-'
ity^ and tightly celebrated with vain glorious boastings,
and selfish pridd. , All the nations of the earth are in-
termfted in it^ almost as much as yourselves.' It has
^Ven a«4esson to mankind that can never be forgotten ;
iit |ias proved a check to misrAe and oppression every
iwhere v it h«i ascertained the Hmits of the strongest
(tyranny r it shows thm« b a boundary beyond which
(ipjustke, however armed, cannot pass.' It is like thé
gAlflûghty voi^, that says to the swelling surges of the
^oeean/' hitíiem shall ye come, but no farther; here
'hall your proud waves be stayed." Ëi^and, herself
Ims heard the voice, and will no more in our day, com-
nithemdf to the hopeless task of turning back that tide,
ivhich b carrying on the nations to real liberty and
indcp^denee. • , . ,
«The excellence of your constitutional government,
^nd the* wisdom and fidelity with which if has been
|iitherto administered, insure to you the internal pros-
^leiity the country, and its respect among other nàtions.
If there be any danger, it is that you should forget the
-serious religion, and manly virtues of that generation
which is now almost passed away. That you should think
pomp, and show, and luxury, marks of national greatness.
That you should substitute a spurious, sickly sensibility
about trifles, falsely called honor, for that lofty integrity
and unbending virtue, that guided your fathers through
all the perils of thestorm. That you should trifle with God,
with truth and religion, and think to sustain your position
by mere gasconade and intrigue, instead of the undisguis*
ed frankness of republican principles. That you , imbibe
a rapacious eagerness for wealth and honors. If you do
these^things, they will be a worm at the; root of your pros¬
perity, and " the blossom thereof will go up as the dust"
We are not of the nurabej who think every thing that
the founders of this greaf republic did, was wisest, best;
and unimproveable. They also had their weaknesses,
and the spirit of their times infected them with intol¬
erance and with too high notions of human power in
spiritual matters. Some relicts of their laws, both is
New England, and some of the southern sfates, remainte
attest this. But let us be as sincere and honest as they
were, with the improved light that belongs to our age,
arid we shall presently sweep away every cobweb that
they left on the fair statue of freedom. The exact
lineaments, the full and fair proportions of her heaven¬
ly form, will be presented unobscured to the view of an
admiring world ; and it will be no more necessary, than
it would be just, to engage in expensive crusades to ex¬
tend the dominion of liberty and law. Nations wiH
15
I
manifestly creates and
difibses happiness, peace, and contentment among mil*
Hons of men.' May our free constitution, and responsi¬
ble government, continue to dO so, to the remotest ages ! '
I
It having been determined to solicit your assistance,
in common witli several other christian churches, on
this day, to Ae society for colonizing free people of co¬
lour on the coast of lAfrica, I shall add a few words, in
l^tkm to that object, before you make your contribution.
There is (me, dark. spot on our otherwise cloudless
sky, which it is only necessary to mention, and on which
pmd^e forbids us po expatiate. Every intelligent
(^itixen sees it i»#l its bearings. The mistaken policy
of our ancestoix in introducing and accumulating Ais
evil, is lamented by every enlightened man, but ^he
counteraction of its consequences can only be affected
by the most gradual, wise, and patient measures.
Among Aese measures, the steps adopted by the Colo-,
nizatkm Sig^ety appear founded on justice, humanity .
and wisdom, and promise very important results. The
number of free coloured people who may voluntarily
%
leave these states for Africa, may, for 20 years to come,
a
be comparatively small. But in t^at perio(l,. in all pro¬
bability, there will be a very numerous and powerful
s^-govemed nation of them there, possessing adyan-
m
tages certainly as great as did the first white settlers in
America in the same period, and probably much greater.
16
It requires no prophetic insight into futurity, and only a
moderate share of knowledge of human nature, to de¬
termine the influence which such a known object must
have on the remainder of their brethren here. And
when there is a place to which they may retire with so
much safety and advantage to themselves, as well as to the
inhabitants of this country, every year will witness the
emancipation of thousands, who are willing to adopt this
measure. You ought, at least in this respect, to think for
your posterity ; and there are fotir objects which the
Colonization Society aims at, and in which there is a ra¬
tional probability of success, each of which is more
worthy of your liberality than all the religious missions
of the country.
1. The securing of the civil liberties of these states,
by preventing the necessity of a largd*standing army.
2. The equitable and humane treatment of our fel¬
low men, of a different colour from ourselves.
3. The civilization of western Africa, by introducing
a population accustomed to our habits, laws and religion.
4. The complete extinction of that most detestable of
all crimes that disgrace humanity, and which both this'
country and England to their mutual honor, have at
length agi'eed to call and treat as Piracy—the Slave
Trade.
If these objects deserve your approbation, let them
call forth your liberality this day.
17
THE >rATIONAL ANNIVERSARY.
m
SERMON II.
Samuel Xll. 24.' Only fear the Lord, and serve him in truth with all your
heart : for consider^ how great tlûngs he hath done for you.
1 endeavoured this numiing, with all the brevity
which a short discourse requires, to recalto your memo-
^ •
ry the origin and process of this great political confed¬
eracy to Mrhich we belong : The independent sovereignty
of which was asserted by your fathers 48 years ago, and
b^g triumphantly vindicated by their arms, became
acknowledged and respected by the other nations of
the world. Since that period, your affairs, like those of
other countries, .have experienced much vicissitude;
many dark and difficult hours have been passed through,
I and new and untried experiments have been tested.
Nations, as well as individuals, when they arrive at ma-
turity and take the management of their affairs into their
I own hands have much to learn, that nothing but experi-
emtetf. (sometimes long and painful) can teach. Countries
goiremed by an absolute despotism have Im difficulty in
this respect than these states had to contend with. For
where a single will governs, and (as one of our British
statesman said) the people have no more to do with
• f
the laws than to obey them,'* it is hard indeed if you
3
IS
cannot keep the vessel of the state obedient to the helm,
on whatever eourse she steers. But to unite the
public safety and quiet, with a suecessful progress of its
affairs, under a system perfectly popular, and subject to
perpetual revision, we may say of this what the poet
said of the ascent from the realms of Pluto, Hoc opus,
hie labor est !* The task however has been marvellously
well achieved, and under a eonstitution which has
now been 35 years in operation, the greatest existing
portion of public liberty, has been combined with more
peace, order, obedience to law, and general prosperity,
than was ever exhibited in any other eountry for a simi¬
lar space of time.
This is no exaggerated picture. It has little to do
with the wisdom or virtue of the people, in comparison
with other nations. It is the result of a grand discovery
in politics, which being at first a theory was but little
regarded, but having established its truth and impor¬
tance by fact and time, is now working powerfully on
the public mind in all nations, and will unquestionably
transform the face of society.
This discovery is, the system of" government by re¬
presentation, regulated by a permanent eonstitution,
abolishing hereditary succession to power, and so short¬
ening the duration of both legislative and execufire
♦I beg pardon for this scrap of latin. Perhaps it would have been as weD
to have said in humble English 'prose, it is a very difficult and laboriinisUtà.
I believe tliose who hold the helm in the United States find it so. Their places
are not sinecures. EspeciaUy when we consider the manner in which theii
duties are discharged, the rigid scrutiny to which they are subject, and the
economy (I had almost said parsimony) with which they are paid.
' 19
X
attthority, that the iresponsibility of the public officers
can never be lost sight of, nor the abuse of power re-
quire a resort to violence for its redress. Eyery human
institution has its defects, and the best blessings of hea*
ven may be abused. It would therefore betray ridicu-
lous ignorance to pretend that our institutions are incapa*
ble of improvement, or that human interest and' passions
cannot pervert them to mischievous pyrposes. Mankind
are every where the same, and in proportion to personal
virtue, or moral turpitude, so will the possesion of pow¬
er create good, or evil. But the advantage of the sys¬
tem adopted by the United- States, after securing their
independence, are die limitation of the power to do evil,
afibrding full scope for the public sentiment to detect and
redress abuses, shortening the duration of misgovem-
ment, and opening the path of power to every one who
is qualified to be serviceable to the public.
.To render yourselves worthy of the continuance of
these advantages^ and of the distinguished station you
hold in the eyes of other nations. We exhort you in the
words %f our text " Only fear the Lord and serve him
in truth with all your heart : for consider how great things
the Lord hath done for you." The passage teaches us,
tibdt public blessings, as well as private and personal
ones, are from God, and ought to be acknowledged with
gratitude and improved to his glory. In fact this con¬
stitutes the great difference between a wise and foolish
man ; b^ween a good and wicked one. .
Legislators and magistrates will act with discretion
and impartial justice, having a genuine, concern for the
\
y
20 ^
%
public good, when tliey are fully persuaded of thdr ae^
countableness to God, and that his righteous providoiee
and moral government regdlatC all things; that consequmH:-'
1y all measures in themselves unjust and injurious caa
never be permanently successful, but will be followed
by a re-action that shall punish and correct them. Or
• V
if while they profess religion to satisfy the public, th^
inwardly disregard its dictates, and in defiance of the
Bible believe, that the " race will always be won by the
swift, and the battle by the strong, that bread is to die
wise, and riches to men of understanding," why thm,
they will neglect great moral rules and give themsrimt
up to intrigue and crafty management to strengthen thór
hands and consolidate their power. .They will act uffli
e e
expedients instead of sound general principles, «d
, their measures will betray the reckless charadir
of the desparate gambler, who hazards every tlmiig
on one cast of the dice, rather than trust to patient wi9
doing, or the slow process of honest industry. So ià
, common life, if a man act always under the impresâfl
of a supreme, unseen governor who will retpwd «r
punish him according to his deeds, his errors will not ba
many nor great. Want of judgment, or strength sf
passion, may occasionally betray him, but the pÜm
principle, the fear of God, is a redeeming quality, thit
checks him early in his deviations from the path of iS'
tegrity and virtue, and 'forbids his perseverance in aaf
crooked way.
Religion, to be truly useful either to individuakor
nations, must be sincere. " Serve him in truth." Tte
21
0
subi^tutioas of false religion and supemtitioùs services,
f«»" genuine piety and morality, have almost dways been
subservient to civil tyranny, and have been among the
arts used to rivet the chains of despotism on the unthink¬
ing multitude in all ages. ' . '
Such shackles, civil and ecclesiastical, God hath in his
mercy broken from off the necks of the people of these
states. ' Let your, gratitude for the deliverance, be ac« '
companied with a steady watchfulness to prevent their
heing ever imposed on you again. Let the great liber¬
ty whdrewith he hs» made you free, be carefully pre¬
served, and no faction either civil or religio\|S be per¬
mitted to dictate to, or domineer over thW equals.
You will thus prove, a salutary example, and your inde¬
pendence be justly esteemed á blessing, not to yourselves '
alone, but to the whole world.
A few particulars in which it may prove so, I will
moreWi^y enumerate.
1. It wiU ameliorate the legislation and government ■
■o/o^er natiotis. It has done so already. Since the
peace of 1783 there is no country we are acquainted
with, that has not been improvèd in some material points.
The agitations in Europe, commencing with the French
revolution, evidently grew out of the system adopted
I here, and notwithstanding the fearful ravages that
I marked their progress, and the disappointed expectations.
I of many in their result, the good that has been done is
undeniable. Many odious laws are abolished ; the ad- '
^ vancement of just and liberal principles is marked and
, triumphant; public opinion, has more weight; and
2»
0
*
. national burden» and exactions, are more wisely regula»
ted and more equally distributed. Without anticipatíii^
or wishing for, ^reat and sudden revolutiom, we may
be sure that the peaceful and prosperous progress of tU»
republic, will act as a continual check upon tyramy
every where, within the reach of its example. For if
governments refuse to remove intolerable abuses, aai
adopt wholesome measures, the aggrieved will se^ ao
asylum in the western world, and transfer their weakly
knowledge and industry, where it can, and will,.be prot
tected and encouraged. The advantageous influmice of
these United States in this direct manner is cfai^
felt upon Ëngland, by reason of the common language^
religion and laws of the two nations. But Spain, and dm
whole continent of Europe will be directly affected ttoi
by the independence of South America. For if libeid
institutions and righteous laws prevail in the south é.
this continent, the south of Europe also must be lifimufi»
zed or its best inhabitants will forsake it. Oreeee too,'
has caught the flame of liberty and independenee, and
the deathly paleness and torpor under which a natk»-
descended from Philosophers and Heroes, passircfy
4
endured for ages the most abj ect submission to a race af
barbarians, has at length given place to the strong
passions of patriotism, the aspiration after power, the
thirst for revenge. A form of government, very simifa»
to our own, has superseded the despotic power of the
minions of the Turkish Sultan; and Europe sees with
astonishment the rapid progress of principles, whkk
she fears to approve, and dares not condemn. *
'^3
• Every year is adding strength and solidity to the re¬
publican system of government as established here ; and
«
if its future progress be as prosperous as the past, it can- '
not fail, to induce many nations to engraft the mo^ im¬
portant features of its administration on their own.
II. Observe tíie effect which the independence of this
country has and ought to have on literature and science.
It has laid open4o the prying curiosity of inquisitive
men, an almost boundless region. It has conducted a <
population, daily becoming more dense into the great
western wilderness, where only the foot of the untutored
laihian, a few years, since trod the untilled soil and
threaded the impervious forests, where so many mighty
rivers pursue their deep and silent course towards the
far distant ocean. It has planted in these once mysteri¬
ous wilds, large towns ; and raised in them schools and
seminaries of learning, where the ancient languages and
modem sciences'are studied by numerous youth, who
are preparing to assume the station and carry on the
purposes of a generation that is fast passing off the stage.'
. freedom and knowledge have ever gone hand in hand.
The population of a repuUic must be enlightened, or it
eannot remain free. - Knowledge, like wealth, in this
country exists not in such large and splendid masses as
in Europe, but both are more equally diffused. General
a
education is of much greater importance to à communi¬
ty, than a few striking examples of gigantic learning.
These latter have their uses, but they ill compensate'
for the general ignorance and brutality of an uninstruc-
ted peasantry. The world abounded with deeply learned
24
I
men, in centuries signalized chiefly by the unqualified
despotism of the great, and the darkest ignorance of tim
lower ranks. When the more practical sciences becaaw
generally taught, and every mechanic's son received
his proportionate share of eduation, priestcraft sunk into
contempt and the thrones of tyrants began to shaké.
Knowledge, (said one of the most eloquent orators of
the present day) is like'water, which has the most impos*
ing appearance in its larger collection, as in vast lakfll
mighty rivers, or the immeasurable ocean ; but its more
useful forms are those of the silent dew, which hai^
its countless drops on every blade of grass, and meadow
flower, or in the copious but gentle rains that saturée
the earth, and spread fertility over the face of nations«"
Since the American revolution, all countries, exceptii^
those which it sickens an enlightened mind to nam^
have become reading nations ; and the effect thereof il
as visible to a traveller through them, as the agrictdtn*
ral improvements on the surface of their soil.
III. .The independence of this country has hady' and
will have great influence on public religion.
It has introduced an era, and habits, with which im*
posture is incompatible. Mere authority, and Ae
dictum of priests, will have little weight with those wbs
have broken loose from the trammels of early prejudicei
on so many important points. One of the first acts of
the leaders of the episcopal church after the revolutioi^
was a partial revision of their book of common prayer.
And the alterations and omissions of their service ai*
real improvements, though I think they did not go
25 ■
^
enough. However, as they have altered once, they may
%
alter again. And indeed they must do so, to keep pace
with the spirit of the age. Perfect liberty involves in
it free enquiry, and having once given up the claim to
infallibility, it can be no degradation to examine freely
what yet remains to be investigated. England has her
«
act of Parliament religion, yet she can scarcely keep
orthodox. You have no act of Congress religion, and
therefore the power of reason is more likely to be felt
I
and extenávely obeyed here. Already the sects that
have hitherto had an undisturbed sway, are beginning to
acknowledge that they cannot depend on mere articles,
and covenants, and confessions, and system of Theology,
#
they want some new stimulus, some fresh band, to keep
the flock attached and steady. It is true, they want,
and must have, a more rational system ; a system found¬
ed on truth, not fancy ; a system that can be understood
and explained, as well as believed; and which will be
the more seriously believed because it is understood.
Though it be freely admitted that Reli^on and Politics
are very different things, yet there is a congruity between
systems of the former, and certain arrangements of the
latter kind, which cannot escape the notice of any dis¬
passionate observer. There are schemes, which passed
unquestioned as ^cred truths of heaven, when the di¬
vine right of kings was also implicitly believed and re¬
vered, but which can only retain a feeble, uncertain
hold, in those who have adopted the doctrine, that the
people are the fountain of power. I have seen a flight
of marble steps in the Cathedral church of Canterbury,
26
in England, on which were deeply indented thef tracks
worn by the feet and knees of millions of Pilgrims wbs
used 600 years ago to visit the tomb of St. Thontas à
Betket ; but for the last 400 years, I believe poor Stl
Thomas has been suffered to lie quietly enough, without
any devotional visitors ; and the marble steps, nolñúA-
standing the hard wear of their earlier days, are Hk^
now to last as long as the walls that enclose thenvt Thew
are other objects of devout veneration, which the Kgit
of science and progress of fiberty will leave as lUufll
disregarded. It has been very usual in the rhetoriâd
flourishes of a certain class to talk about the Altar and
the Throne, in close connexion; and it i3;nof witfaflW
reason, for there is an Altar on which the sacrifice bwUt
very dimly, when the cheering influence of tlic thrfflrt
is not near.
V
To dismiss this metaphorical style, we mean oidy tt
say, that they who will not pay implicit deference to tSe
^ *
political institutions of their forefathers, ' because tfiM^
think them founded on ignorance of human rights, aal ;
unworthy submissions to usurpation of authority oogi# j
to be consistent, to question as severely, their opinieil
and practices in religion, and renounce every thing tírtt
is slavish, superstitious and unreasonable ih oUe class ti
these subjects, as well as the other.
It cannot be doubted but this will be the case. Evoiy
«
' advancement towards perfect civil liberty has been afr
tended with sotUe purification of religion frOm its grOntf
absurdities.
IV. The independence and republicanism of tK»i
K
cûmHry will greatln influence the peace óf the weeldi
I- fesfp thô tiirie λ Bot Vêt arrived when- íb© natioâs
'f" '
leáñtí war no mot«/' and thiB^oiÎRtry, as weft as.
*• H »
ethers, fiïay be érabroiïed'iiv ihé cdntehtktns^ which ambi^
I 4
tion may createt Büt yoiir system relnoves seVeitil of
the itfost usuad sources of bloody wars^ and every addi-
fifoual nation! that aidbpts it adds to the strength: of the
^cifie policyV Fatmily compacts^ leg^mafe saecessioit^
ejctension of territory, or security from pOpulárinsUrrée-
k
fidhs; these have always been the principal caUses of
these áital' wars,, that have deleted t!^ earth with blood#
They are causes which- cannot operate here, and whichf)
wheit other nations become wiser, wiR have little weight
with them.
M the meant time, having oterceme those diffic^ies
which for near thirty years have marked ' one of the most
stormy periods of the world ; your firm, but peaceful
policy, will have a restraining influence on the rest of
the nations. They will learn from you how to unite
moderation with firmness ; how to make an explicit de¬
claration of rights and expectations, produce compliance
■with justice, without resorting to war.
The result of the observations we have this day made,
alluding to the National Anniversary is, that we have
much reason for thankfulness in the liberty, peace, and .
good government of this country. II should be viewed
by every citizen as one part of the wise and merciful
disposals of providence for the benefit of the human
race. We ought to be careful to maintain in purity those
principles of free investigation, and manly superiority
28
%
to mere prejudice, which^áipe «Consi^Àt with the spirit
0Î our public institutions. The more truly virtuoas
and enlightened^ .tjte populatiSn^tf'these states become,
the greater security mere* mil be for the permanence
of their political freedom and greatness.
Fanaticism is dangerous, superstition is degradii^,
but profligacy, if not checked, will be ruinous. . The
American who yields himself up to vice, does more than
ruin himself ; he brings disgrace on his country, he ex*
poses himself to become the mere tool of some crafty
demagogue who will make use of his unprincipled wick¬
edness, as the agent of his own ambition, and having
thus secured his selfish purposes, will cast him aside with
the contempt he deserves.
Be wise, be good, and you will still in the best sense;
be independent and happy !
END.
I
peuvkred before th®
ANCIENT AND HONORABLE
artillery company,
JUNE 6, 1831,
being the 192d anniversary.
By SAMUEL BARRETT,
MINISTER OF THE CHURCH IN CHAMBERS STREET, BOSTON.
CAMBRIDGE:
printed by e. w. metcalf and company.
1831.
DISCOURSE.
Psalm h. 11. — Rejoice with Trembling,
»
At no former period, I think, has the patriot band,
now assembled here, celebrated the anniversary of
its organization in 1638, in view of events and cir¬
cumstances so fitted to awaken at once joy and
solicitude in American hearts, as those which seem
at this moment to hold the breathless attention of the
civilized world. There is no longer any extravagance
in saying, that a crisis has arrived in human aifmrs.
That astonishing series of revolutionary movements,
which commenced near this spot but a little more
than half a century ago, has gradually extended itself,
till at the present time it involves almost all the com¬
munities of cultivated man in one great contest be¬
tween liberty and despotism, to which the records of
history furnish nothing parallel. Every one must now
feel the remark to be as true as it has become trite,
that we hve in an age of most extraordinary occur¬
rences. How crowded has been the whole past year
with incidents of momentous bearing on the fortunes
of our race ! What breeze blows from east to west,
at the current season, but it wafts us tidings of some
4
repeated attempt of arbitrary power to put down
the rising spirit of freedom, or of some new breach
eíFected by popular force in the old and tottering
ramparts of political oppression ? Where on the wide
earth is the région, apart from our own peaceful
shores and inhabited by a people fully emerged from
barbarism, whither we can turn oim eyes without
being struck with civil commotions at which it be¬
comes us to rejoice with trembhng 1 — to rejoice,
because we think we perceive in them a tendency,
more or less direct, towards the universal establish¬
ment of republican institutions ; — and with trembhng,
because we know not through what toil, sacrifices»
and blood, the way to liberty, independence, and a
capacity for self-government is yet to lead the nations.
Who that has a mind to refiect and a heart to feel,
but experiences something of this contrariety in his
emotions, as he surveys, now through his hopes and
now through his fears, the present convulsed state of
the world ?
Indeed, so mixed appear good and evil in the cim-
rent of human affairs, we sometimes doubt whether
there be greater reason to exult or to mourn over the
discordant materials so fast accumulating for the future
historian. Where peace and tranquillity would glad¬
den us, who can say that poUtica! or ecclesiastical
despotism, having awed or drugged the general mind
into apathy, is not taking advantage of the calm to
rivet more closely the iron fetters of superstition and
servitude ? Where insurrection and war would make
5
our sensibilities bleed, who can tell but it is only the
natural effect of returning health and vigor to popular
opinion, and that it is by violehce alone a fresh start
can be given to the energies of individual improve¬
ment and of public prosperity ? We cannot penetrate
the mysteries of Providence ; and we are often de¬
ceived by appearances. We hail the sun in its rising;
but it may bring pèstilence in its beams. We are
saddened by the approach of night; but it may scat¬
ter healing consolation from its sable plumage.
In every direction is there not that which should
excite mingled feelings of pleasure and pain, of hope
and fear 1 We look to the Southern half of our own
continent, and it gratifies us to witness a recent proof,
not to mention the long series of preceding ones, that
no king or emperor can freely breathe American air ;
but it grieves us to think how distant may be the
period when the fifteen or twenty millions of fellow
beings, whom we so cordially congratulated on the
achievement of their independence, can dwell peace¬
fully under the sway of hberal governments. We
look to Africa, and thank God that her captive sons
are returning imbued with the principles and spirit
of Christian institutions, and that a colony from one of
the most cultivated nations now occupies the spot
where, for more than three centuries, a piratical des¬
potism had intrenched itself, bidding defiance to the
arms and heaping insults on the civilization of the
whole commercial world; but when, O when shall
that wide spread territory, which could once boast a
V
6
seat of science and refinement unequalled for ages, be
covered over with free, intelligent, and prosperous
states? We look to Asia, and rejoice that light is
breaking in upon her darkness, that the heralds of the
Gospel are there, that the press is giving wings to
knowledge, and that commerce is beginning to quicken
and hberalize the common mind ; but, alas ! how many
hundreds of years must pass away before that vast
portion of the earth's surface, on which man had
first his abode, shall have exchanged its countless
hordes of barbarians for enhghtened and Christian
nations? We look to Europe, and whose heart does not
beat quick with alternate joy and grief, as he sees her
throwing off the trammels of the middle ages ; — of
joy, that she is reheving herself at last of such a bur¬
den ; — of grief, that so much suffering must accom¬
pany the change?
What have we not witnessed within a few short
months ? — England, just escaping a bloody rev¬
olution. Fortunate, that wisdom guided her coun¬
cils at this most critical period of her history, and
prompted so ready obedience to the popular cry for
reform. But do no dark clouds still skirt her political
horizon ? — Poland, long ago cut up and distributed
piecemeal among despots, and of late oppressed by
a tyranny as shameless as cruel, in fearful conflict
with the Northern giant, resolved on independence or
extirpation. How deep the sympathy we have felt
in her heroic and thus far successful struggle for
freedom. For we know the justice of her cause and
7
the importance of its triumph to the world ; we remem¬
ber her former glory and sacrifices ; nor have we for¬
gotten her distinguished sons who helped fight the
battles of our own revolution. We rejoice in her
victories ; we tremble for her dangers ; we pray God
to give her the place among the nations of which
she has shown herself worthy. — Belgium, after hav¬
ing suffered repeated violations of her constitution ;
the freedom of her press abridged; the impartiality
of her elective franchise disregarded; the indepen¬
dence of her judicature annulled ; her claim to equit¬
able rules of taxation denied ; the privilege of directing
the education of her children taken away ; her very
language forbidden to be used ; and her Minister, who
had been the cause of all this abuse, self-clothed with
arbitrary power as if for further mischief ; — Belgium
we have seen sever, at a blow, the bonds of a
union always embarrassing as at first it was compul¬
sory, and indignantly heave overboard the weight of a
curse, with which she ought never to have been bur¬
dened, and which she could no longer beeir. Happy
deliverance from Dutch oppression ! But wUI the
vessel of state now rise in the waters, and be sped by
prosperous gales 1 We would that our hopes were
better than our fears. Heaven only knows how much
is to be apprehended from foreign interference, how
much from a turbulent populace at home. — France,
gloriously redeeming the character she had lost in
a former revolution. And was it not an animating
spectacle, that of a vast population from all the grades
in life rising in their strength, and, as with the throb-
8
bing of one magnanimous heart, pressing forward to
defend their invaded rights, and accomplishing the
noble deed with a coolness, a firmness, a heroism, and
a generous moderation, to which history afibrds noth¬
ing equal? God be praised that nations, as well as
individuals, can be regenerated by adversity. Aus¬
picious to the cause of liberty in Europe, that so dark
a shade pf reproach, as had rested during forty years
on the name of revolution, has been removed. But
even here is it not with trembling we should rejoice ?
Does the mass of the French people possess intelli¬
gence and virtue enough to sustain institutions as
liberal as they have manifested the will to establish ?
Nevertheless, who can measure the results of this
righteous and successful resistance to arbitrary en¬
croachment on natural privilege and constitutional
law? Since the shout of triumph rang among the
vine-covered hills and through the beautiful valleys of
that fair country, from what dwelling-place of culti¬
vated man has it not been reechoed ? What systems
of prescriptive abuse have not vibrated to the shock
given at Paris on the three memorable days of July?
Will the vibration cease till they are prostrated m
the dust ?
K
Joyous, fearful condition of human affairs ! It
seems as if one of those grand epochs had arrived,
happily so rare in history, when a worn-out world falls
into pieces, and a new world rises out of the ruins.
, Public opinion heaves and shakes and scatters the
mountain masses of feudal imposition, by which the
9
natural rights and moral sentiments of mankind have
been oppressed for centuries. Thrones totter, hierar¬
chies tremble, and all the elements of society are
heated and in agitation and preparing to enter into
other forms. The great body of the people, wherever
the schoolmaster and the press have wrought their
wonders, perceive that they have been abused and
feel that they are strong. A light has flashed into their
minds and a passion has been kindled in their hearts,
that will no longer allow them to rest contented under
the old despotisms of church and state. Never before
did the popular current of thought and feeling set so
strongly towards freedom, independence, and repub¬
lican institutions. Is it in vain ? Are these blessings
never to be attained 1 The consummation may be
distant ; it may cost the blood of milhons ; but will it
not, sooner or later, at one price or another, be real¬
ized ? Fortunate the nations whose privileged classes
are disposed to facilitate, instead of throwing obstacles
in the way of its accomplishment. Let kings and
nobles and prelates but attempt to arrest this progress
of things by arbitrary measures, where any high degree
of civilization prevails, and how soon will be heard, on
every side, the enthusiastic cry of liberty, rousing the
people to physical combat, like a thrilling trumpet-call !
Happy, that there is a spirit in man to overcome, by
its intrinsic energy, any oppression by which it may
have been for a season weighed down. Sad, that in
bursting the massy piles of political and ecclesias¬
tical abuse which have been accumulating for ages on
the principles and privileges of human nature, it so
often covers the earth with fearful ruins.
2
10
But whence this extraordinary state of things ? To
what origin are the spirit and movements of the old
world to be traced? The question calls home our
thoughts. That spirit was drunk in from fountains
here opened. Those movements took rise from im--
pulses communicated from this land. We gave the
shock that has electrified the nations. Our fathers
came to these shores, in mind and heart, republi¬
cans ; the institutions they founded were republican ;
and republican was the education they gave to their
children. Of the same character were all the elements
of general opinion at the revolution. On assuming
independence, at this period, our ancestors did httle
else than transfer the prerogatives of the royal to the
popular will, and provide the organs by which the
wishes of the newly invested sovereign should be
made known and executed. Names and forms and
modes were altered; but this was nearly all. The
principles, feelings, and habits of the community un¬
derwent no essential change. Nor, accustomed as
the colonists had been to free systems from the first
settlement of the country, was any such change need¬
ed ; and to this it was owing that the sovereignty, in
«
passing from the monarch to the people, produced
none of that anarchy and civil war, by which so many
states abroad have since been convulsed and drenched
in blood. To this it is also to be ascribed, both that
the tree of liberty grew up amongst us so rapidly to
maturity, and that other nations, seeing its fair propor¬
tions and rich fruits, were so early desirous of ingraft¬
ing its scions on their own stocks.
11
Yes, from us was the germ of true liberty transfer¬
red to the old world. In this we rejoice. It was
honorable to us, that we were intelligent and virtuous
enough to rear up free institutions in a manner to
commend them, so speedily and so well, to the
admiration of Europe. Alas! that shackled and op¬
pressed by feudal tyranny as she had been for cen¬
turies, she could not sooner receive the full benefit of
our example. We rejoice, too, and bless God for our
subsequent prosperity. I need not describe it.
Whoever has eyes sees it; whoever has ears hears
of it ; whoever has a heart enjoys it.
A more useful topic presents itself. Is there no
reason for allowing the feelings of sohcitude to mingle
with those of congratulation 1 May we not well trem¬
ble while we rejoice? I would not set up alarmist.
But I think the time has come when wisdom should
connect fear with exultance. True, we have grown
*
up to be a great nation. True, our population is
increasing with astonishing rapidity. True, our hills
and valleys are opening to us new treasures ; science
and art intrusting us with unwonted powers; com¬
merce extending her arm and bringing elements of
wealth from remotest climes ; domestic industry daily
multiplying her creations ; plenty emptying her full
horn into the lap of peace ; all this and much more.
But on these very accounts we should feel anxious
concern. Have we never read of the corrupting in¬
fluence of prosperity ? Where are the republics of
other times ? What destroyed them ?, Has the phi-
12
losopher traced the law of cause and effect, and the
historian recorded it, in vain 7 Often have nations, as
well as individuals, struggled through toil, privation,
and peril, to the envied distinction of honor, wealth,
and power, only to lose it in fruition. Let it be, that
we have gone on wonderfully well so far ; past
success affords no pledge of security against future
disaster. Already our circumstances are difíerent
from what they were. Already new causes are in
operation; and corresponding effects must be pro¬
duced. The outward pressure that helped to support
the political fabric in former days is removed. The
revolutionary worthies, whose wisdom, and sober vir¬
tues, ' and natural love for the institutions they con¬
tributed to build up and for the union they toiled to
cement, are nearly all in their graves. Unaccustomed
dangers threaten us. Have you never thought of the
tide of population that is setting so fast westward,
and of the sovereignty going with it? Soon the
pohtical power will be there. Are intelligence and
virtue and reUgion accompanying this tide, so that
nothing is to be apprehended from a vicious exercise
of the elective prerogative in the West? Besides,
prescription is every where ceasing to sway the
popular will. Old customs are no longer followed
because old. Authority is losing its force. In what
ever direction we look, we see an extraordinary
activity of mind, and a restless desire for innovation.
The mass of intellect is in a state of effervescence.
Public opinion, which must govern, is continually
changing. What is to secure it on the side of right ?
13 •
Is every influence such as we could wish ? Does it
require a large share of sagacity to discover that taking
root in our soil which should awaken anxiety in patri¬
otic bosoms 1
Is it nothing that intemperate habits enslave so
large a portion of the sovereign people ? Is it nothing
that such crowds of ignorant and vicious men from
4
foreign climes throng our shores, ready to give their
votes to the highest bidder? Is it nothing that, from
one cause or another, so many of our ablest and best
men are left in private life, while the high places of
public trust are filled by persons of doubtful character ?
Is it nothing that confederacies are forming in various
parts of the country, of a most exclusive and virulent
spirit, wherein the mind receives the first elements
of politics in conjunction with the ambitious views of
faction; wherein the jurisdiction of individual judg¬
ment is merged in a servile compromise with asso¬
ciated wills; and wherein plans are matured by
which unqualified or faithless men shall ride into
power on the backs of the abused multitude ? Is it
nothing that there is such an universal thirst for the
distinctions and emoluments of oflice ; that our gen¬
eral elections are attended with so much excitement,
misrepresentation, and intrigue ; that so many of
the public journals are filled with the details of merely
I personal and party politics ; that there is such a bitter
) and unrelenting spirit prevalent among the various
[ religious sects?
(
14
Then, too, is it no ground of alarm, that in this
boasted land of liberty and equal privileges, so little is
felt and done for two miUions of slaves'? Is it no
ground of alarm, that while every tongue is eloquent in
praise of even-handed justice, the national arm is with¬
drawing its pledged protection from a people whose
greatest sin is, that they occupied the soil before us
and are not strong enough to defend if? Is it no
ground of alarm, that there are men, who have heads
to calculate the value of the union, and hands to violate
the ark of the federal constitution ?
V
Is there little to dread in all this? How read
you, how interpret the signs of the times ? I would
not indulge extravagant fears. But when I look around
me and observe what I cannot avoid seeing, I some¬
times tremble for the stability of our cherished institu¬
tions? I sometimes shudder at the thought, that we
may add another to the states which have descended
from generation to generation, corrupted and corrupt¬
ing. My hearers, if, as in the natural body particular
determinations, strong impulses, and a partial distribu¬
tion of organic action are the occasions of disease, so
in the pohtical system certain morbid phenomena indi¬
cate the presence of disturbing influences and a dis¬
proportionate direction of its energies, then let every
one's solicitude be as the evil ; and let each feel that
he has something to do towards procuring a remedy.
And now what is to save us? Intelligence, indi¬
vidual and general ; virtue, private and public ; or, as
15
I choose to express all in a single word, Religion.
This must be cherished, honored, practised, diffused.
Without it no repubhc can endure. I need not go
about to prove it. All know the experiment tried
forty years ago in France. The appalUng result was
written, as it were, in the skies, that all nationa might
see it and take warning. Its import is, that while the
patriot has nothing to fear for his country's glory so
long as true religion sways the minds and hearts of
rulers and people, he has every thing to fear when
religion's power ceases to be felt.
True rehgion, I have said, not the false in any of its
forms. Not the skeptical rehgion of the sciohst ; not
the temporizing of the worldling ; not the hfeless
religion of the formalist ; not the feverish rehgion of the
enthusiast ; not the gloomy rehgion of the ascetic ; not
the lax rehgion of the latitudinarian ; not the unchar¬
itable rehgion of the bigot; not the dwarfed, confin¬
ed rehgion of the exclusionist. No. But true rehgion;
the rehgion of the Son of God, in its original simphcity
and power ; the rehgion of the genuine Gospel, intel-
hgible, rational, cheerful, affectionate, winning, saving ;
the rehgion which, wherever it prevails, challenges the
respect of sound heads and the love of good hearts ;
the rehgion which manifests itself, not in barren specu¬
lation, but in fruitful thought ; not in transient excite¬
ment, but in permanent affection ; not in periodical
and local service alone, but in constant and universal
obedience. The rehgion of the mind, curbing the
roving fancy ; arming conscience with a divine power ;
16
enïigbtening and strengthening the; understanding;
tasking reason to the utmost on all the subjects of
liberal inquiry ; making progress, proficiency ; acquisi¬
tion, gain ; knowledge, wisdom ; wisdom, virtue ; and,
virtue, happiness. The religion of the heart, awaken¬
ing sensibility to the true and the good, wherever found ;
purifying and refining the moral sentiments ; nourishing
and freshening the devout affections ; exciting and di¬
recting the benevolent sympathies ; giving a relish for all
innocent pleasures and virtuous pursuits ; kindling an
unquenchable thirst for larger measures of spiritual
excellence; and putting the whole soul in harmony
with whatever there is grand and beautiful and touch¬
ing and stirring in nature, providence, and revelation.
The religion of the life, throwing its bright illumination
on all around, below, and above; presenting every
object in its true relative proportions ; imparting inter¬
est to small as well as great duties ; revealing God to
the soul in society, in business, in recreation, as well
as in solitude, in the closet, and in prayer ; imparting
vigor and efficiency to the active principles ; prompt¬
ing to industry, temperance, frugality, integrity, use¬
fulness, and patriotism, both in private and public life.
The religion, in a word, that connects, always and
every where, in indissoluble bonds with faith, works ;
with theory, practice; with sensibility, action; with
piety, morality ; with spiritual things, things material ;
with aspirations after heaven, the pursuits of earth;
with the interests of eternity, the interests of time;
with every thing, whether little or great, personal or
social, private or public, present or future, a practical
*
17
conviction of God's presence, agency, and paternal
providence; of Christ's divine mission, character,
teachings, and sacrifices ; of the immortality of the
human soul, and a future state of righteous retribution.
Such, my hearers, is the rehgion we want. For this
let us labor. Let us pray for this. Then,' if God, in
his great goodness, shall answer our prayers and bless
our labors, when this century is numbered with the
years beyond the fiood, the revolving sun shall not
see, nay, shall not have seen, in his journey of ages, â
nation so illustrious as our own.
«
Gentlemen of the Ancient and Honorable
Artillery Company ;
I have ventured to remind you of some topics of
congratulation and solicitude, which I thought not alto¬
gether unsuited to this anniversary of an association,
that, for nearly two hundred years, has riot wanted
hearts to rejoice in the cause of fi-ee institutions, and
to feel anxiety on account of any dangers that seemed
to threaten their permanence and usefulness. And
now, while we are happy in privileges, still vouchsafed
to us, which no other people were ever blessed with ;
while we exult in the high station we hold among
the nations ; while we cherish a noble sentiment of
patriotic pride, that we have opened to the world a
school of liberty, unequalled in the annals of our race;
while we congratulate ourselves, and, as with one heart,
offer devout thanks to Almighty God, that by an ex¬
periment of more than half a century we have demon-
18
strated to all political skeptics on the face of the
earth, the possibility of reconciling the utmost extent
of individual freedom with the maintenance of public
authority, order, tranquillity, and improvement ; — let
us not be insensible to any occurrences of evil omen
to our future peace, prosperity, and glory ; let us not,
after so splendid a succès, and when the eyes of mil¬
lions from every quarter of the globe are anxiously
turned to us for a pattern and a motive, either do
aught, or, so far as we can prevent it, suffer aught to
be done, that shall bring discredit on the principles
and forms of republicanism.
19
Officers elected in 1830.
Parker H. Pierce, Capt.
William B. Adams, \st lÂéui.
Martin Wilder, 2d Lieut »
♦
Russell Sturgis, Adj.
Ojfficers elected in 1831.
William B. Adams, Capt.
Amasa G. Smith, l5^ Lieut.
Isaac Davis, 2d Lieut.
John Eaton, Adj.
A
DISCOURSE,
DELIVERED IN THE
FEDERAL STREET CHURCH,
ON
THANKSGIVING DAY,
DECEMBER 2, 1830.
BY EZRA S, GANNETT,
JUNIOR PASTOR.
PRINTED BY REQUEST.
BOSTON.
OFFICE OF THE CHRISTIAN REGISTER.
1830.
HIRAM TüPPER, PRINTER.
DISCOURSE
zephaniah, iii. 20.
I WILL MAK£ YOU A IIAME AND A PRAISE AMONG ALL PEOPLE OF THE EARTH.
It is always the duty of individual man to obey
the will of his Creator, but at particular periods
of his life circumstances may press this duty upon
him with singular force. In like manner, while a
christian people are always bound to maintain the
supremacy of principle and virtue, considerations
may arise at different stages of their history, to give
peculiar importance to this obligation. No people
on the face of the earth can discover in their past
annals stronger inducements, than are possessed by
the citizens of this republic, to acknowledge and
trust in Him, who is ' the blessed and only Potentate.'
For more than two centuries the divine Providence
has seemed to look with special favour on this land.
F rom the hour that the Pilgrims sprung on Plymouth
rock to the commencement of the struggle for In¬
dependence, through that doubtful conflict, and
thence through our nation's various progress in
4
wealth, power, and numbers, God has been its
friend, its benefactor in prosperity, its saviour in
peril. From the first it has been apparent, that it
was his purpose to make them, who cherished the
arts of civilized life on these shores, ' a name and a
praise among all people of the earth.' At any mo¬
ment might the American Christian call on his
countryinen to pause and consider the claims, which
their situation as well as their history would show,
that Heaven had on their gratitude and service.
Besides the general principles of relationship to
the Supreme Being, whence the obligation of obe¬
dience is laid on every community of men, and
besides the remarkable character of our history,
considerations peculiar to the present time enforce
the propriety of encouraging throughout our land a
sense of religious accountableness. Circumstances
of late occurrence or of recent maturity, point out
to us our duty with great clearness, and with solemn
warning. A notice of some of these circumstances
will be an appropriate theme on the present occa¬
sion.
I. The most prominent circumstance of this kind,
is our enjoyment of the condition described in my
text. We have become ' a name and a praise among
all people of the earth.' Our institutions have now
been so long in use, that the success which has at¬
tended them is notorious through the world. Our
territory has been enlarged, till it is washed by each
of the great oceans, and extends from the cold of a
northern clime to the region of constant warmth.
5
Our commerce, familiar with every port in each
hemisphere ; our manufactures, rivalling and often
surpassing those of Europe ; the valley of the Mis¬
sissippi, yielding its products to them who seek a
more abundant harvest than can be gathered from
the hills of New England ; vast tracts of land, but
now thought to be worthless, found to contain inex¬
haustible stores of the most admirable fuel ; obsta¬
cles once deemed unconquerable, bowing before the
skill of the engineer, while distance is almost anni¬
hilated ; population spreading over the prairies of
the West like the resistless fire, yet the Atlantic
States experiencing no decrease of numbers ; edu¬
cation every where engaging the attention of learn¬
ed and practical men ; a taste for the arts beginning
to be cultivated ; the national resources exceeding
the bounds of calculation ; the national revenue,
collected without difficulty, and sufficient for the
expenses of government ; the national debt almost
liquidated; the country at peace with all other
nations, held in honor or viewed with jealousy
abroad ; at home, order, freedom, and security the
universal lot ; and this scene of happiness marred
only by the ephemeral violence of parties, the
temporary depression of some particular interest, or
here and there a spot of unhappy omen, which
fidelity to principles of justice and humanity will
remove from the otherwise unclouded ' firmament
of our national character ; — what better evidence
could we have, that these United States are now
enjoying a high state of prosperity.
6
There have been periods in our history, when
wealth was accumulated more rapidly, as I shall
have occasion again to remark, and during the last
two or three years sad reverses have fallen on indi¬
viduals ; but the whole country, contemplated under
one view, never presented such a scene of success¬
ful enterprise and industry, such a developement of
its inherent resources, such an appearance of health¬
ful growth, such an approach towards the maturity
of national existence.
Compare our situation with that of the other
countries of the globe. England, panting and toil¬
ing under the burthen of an enormous debt ; Ireland,
distracted by an inflammable and starvmg popula¬
tion ; France, just regenerated by a revolution that
has cost her much blood, yet trembling with the ac¬
tion of elements that may again overwhelm her in the
horrors of anarchy ; Spain, on the eve of a civil
war, the result of which no one can calculate;
Portugal, crushed beneath a despot's sway ; Italy, in
spiritual bondage ; Austria, Prussia, and the secon¬
dary northern powers, subject to rulers jealous of
encroachment on their prerogative by the people ;
Russia, under an absolute monarch, with the bulk of
its immense population little elevated above barba¬
rism ; and the last of the European States, Greece,
once the home of liberty and letters, awakened in¬
deed from the debasement of centuries, but weak
and bleeding from the cruelties of her oppressors.
Such is the picture of Europe. With the other
portions of the eastern hemisphere we need not in-
\
7
stitute a comparison. Upon our own continent we
behold, on the north colonial dependencies of Great
Britain, and on the south republics torn by domestic
warfare. In South America how sad the spectacle ;
one only of its governments maintaining an appear¬
ance of stability, and that under the coercive force
of a despotism, while ignorance and misery reign
over regions, endowed by the Creator with every
natural advantage, but inhabited by men, who know
not how to use what they fought like heroes to ob¬
tain. Where on earth is the country, that can at
this moment be pronounced in so prosperous a con¬
dition as ours ? Traverse the globe from pole to pole,
or follow the sun till you shall return to the spot
whence your journey began, and where will you find
a nation in possession of so many blessings, con¬
trasted with so few disadvantages, as this, in which
Providence has assigned us a home ?
In this prosperity, I find ail argument for the
culture of a high and pure character among the
people. Who has given us this signal condition ? Did
our wisdom invent it, or our valour purchase it ?
Did we receive from our fathers the inheritance,
under which we have sat sheltered alike from the
scorching heat and the driving storm, while the
noble tree has spread its roots and sent forth its
branches on every side, laden with beauty and nour¬
ishment ? But who gave our fathers the opportunity
and ability to leave to us this inheritance ? Who has
watched over the tree of his own planting, and
clothed it in luxuriance ? Who but our fathers' God
8
and our God ? Who but the Almighty, the Everlast¬
ing One, the Creator and Governor of the whole
earth ? Ought not this people to acknowledge Him,
and to submit themselves to his laws ; and when it
is known that righteousness is his law, how shall
they excuse themselves for immorality of sentiment
or conduct ?
But our present condition offers another induce¬
ment to the performance of this duty. Prosperity
brings its dangers to a people as well as to an indi¬
vidual. Pride and insolence, forgetfulness of what
we owe to God, and of what is due to man, extrav¬
agance, luxury, and vice are sins, to which it expos¬
es them whom it visits. Other things being equal,
a poor people is more likely to be virtuous than a
rich people, a nation of moderate rank than one of
great power. As our prosperity increases, there¬
fore, the greater is the need of moral restraint and
precaution. Men look to Heaven in their adversi¬
ty, and fear will drive a community to their prayers ;.
but if they were wise, they would seek the divine
help with equal fervour in their bright and secure
days, that He might save them from the subtle en¬
mity of sin. Let a people trust in their eminence,
and they will find that, strong as may be their de¬
fences, and terrible their name against foreign foes,
they are nourishing in their own bosom the authors
of their decline and fall. No decree need be sent
from the court of heaven ; no special judgment fall
on them. The decree was passed when the laws
of the intelligent universe were established, and the
9
judgment will come in the course of a holy Provi¬
dence.
II. I pass to notice another feature of the times,
from which we may argue the necessity of diffusing
4
among all classes a correct moral sentiment. I
allude to the distance at which we stand from the
epoch of our independence. More than half a cen¬
tury intervenes between this hour and the day when
that declaration was signed, which, emanating from
the council chamber of despised ' rebels,' has become
through its influence on the political state of the
world, the most important document ever issued by
uninspired men. In this space of time, he who
wrote and he who advocated that paper, have been
removed to the world of spirits; of them whose
names were affixed to it in pledge of their fortunes,
fame, and lives, one only is on earth, enjoying in an
honorable, nay, a glorious old age, the concentred
admiration of twelve millions of freemen. Ere long
he must follow his associates. God defer that event
to the latest hour that his mercy can grant ; for when
' the last of the signers' shall have departed, one of
the bands of union and sympathy which hold these
states together will have been forever broken.
The death of the generation, which achieved our
independence, is a circumstance of high moral inter¬
est. They lie embalmed in recollections, that will
belong to no succeeding age. They may not have
been the architects of our nation's greatness, for
some, whose opinion we must respect, declare that it
was commenced by those, who brought over the ma-
2
10
terials from the mother country. But to this praise
at least the men of the revolution are entitled, that
they launched the vessel upon the ocean of political
existence in the face of its foes, and fearlessly threw
themselves into it, to guide it triumphantly over the
waves, or to perish with it. The heroes, and sages,
the leaders, and the actors of that period are gone,
and the country is deprived of one of its safeguards.
They constituted the only aristocracy we were ever
willing to allow among us. They had an influence
independent of all other considerations than that of
their acquaintance with those times ; when they
spoke others listened, what they wrote was read
with respect. They exercised no inconsiderable
power in directing the public sentiment, in rebuking
the errors, and mollifying the feelings of political
parties ; they were a common authority, and a com¬
mon centre of attraction. When they shall have
dropped away, a large deduction will have been
made from the amount of influences, that bind us to
the principles of Washington and his compatriots.
What can be substituted with safety, excepting a
regard to truth and virtue ?
Another effect of the increasing distance between
the present period and the times that ' tried men's
souls? is, that the spirit of those times is disappear¬
ing. That was a spirit of fervent patriotism, of high
and holy purpose, of bold and disinterested action, a
spirit that pursued noble ends by noble means, a
spirit of truth and generosity, of freedom and faith.
Is there not less of this spirit, than there was a few
11
years ago ? Has not a spirit of calculation, and self¬
ishness, and low purpose, and base artifice grown
up in its place ? Must we not be ashamed in the
presence of those men of another century, if they
should pass through the land, silent spectators of our
affairs ? It is the natural consequence of our removal
from their age, and particularly of our want of per¬
sonal connexion with the circumstances in which
they acted, that we should possess less of the tone
of feeling, which pervaded their minds ; and so far
as this was estimable, we are comparatively sufferers.
We may compensate for our loss by the principle
•and energy we infuse into our characters ; but if we
neglect thus to fortify them, we shall be in danger
of losing not only the spirit, but the institutions of
our fathers.
III. I come now, to suggest a still more serious
cause of apprehension. Questions are agitated,
fraught with a fearful importance, questions, it may
not be too much to say, of-vital moment to the in¬
terests of our land, but of such a nature as to pro¬
duce both difference of opinion and strong feeling
in partisans of either side. Some of these questions
have been recently started, or been forced into view
by recent circumstances ; some have been long in
suspense. Some relate to the construction that
*
should be given to our national character ; and some
are of a directly moral charter. They are dis¬
cussed with warmth, often with asperity, sometimes
in a manner which indicates a conscience too little
scrupulous respecting the instruments used in sup¬
port of a cause.
12
Upon all such subjects, but particularly where
the meaning of the Constitution, at once the source
and the guide of legislation, is brought into debate,
we experience an evil to which I have already ad¬
verted. The men who digested the plan of our
political state are fast disappearing. A short time
hence not one will remain to aid us in our decisions»
Then we may be left entirely to conjecture or in¬
ference considering the original intention of the
framers of the Constitution, or their sentiments on
many topics of national policy. Y ou will not under¬
stand me to intimate, that it would be wise implicit¬
ly to follow their counsel, but simply to remark, thaf
one guide towards a judicious decision, an authori¬
ty which all united in consulting, will be withdrawn.
In its stead we may have the light of experiment,
but this is often, in its earlier stages, an uncertain
light, increasing rather than diminishing the zeal
with which opposite opinions are maintained.
Many of the subjects that may present this
difficulty affect the condition of multitudes ; the
industry and enterprise of numerous classes will be
defeated, or diverted from their original course, by
whatever result shall dispose of them. Hence
arises a powerful temptation to mingle passion with
the support of either doctrine ; feelings are exas¬
perated, and a selfish or partisan violence may take
the place of calm and candid discussion. Some of
these questions, as I remarked, are of a moral
character ; yet if they be entangled with local in¬
terests, the principles of morality may be openly
13
disregarded. What can be more simple than the
inquiry whether the public faith shall be kept with
a few Indians ? It would seem as if there could be
no room for hesitation, since every honest man
must indignantly exclaim — The public faith be
kept? Yes, though the public treasury be drained
to fulfil its promises. Yet on this question we have
lived to hear an opposite opinion boldly avowed.
The greatest evil, under which our nation labours,
is the existence of slavery. It is the only vicious
part in the body politic, but this is a deep and dis¬
gusting sore, weakening the parts which it immedi¬
ately affects, and sending inflammation through the
whole system. It must be treated with the utmost
judgment and skill. A rash hand is on no account to
be preferred to an eye blind to its character. But
that it must be at no very distant tinie a subject of
thorough examination, and if possible, of cure, no
man of calm mind, it seems to me, can doubt. We
have unequivocal indications, to warn us how any
attempt to examine it will be received. When the
hour comes, the influence of all good citizens will
be needed to prevent scenes that would disgrace
our annals, if they should not end our national exist¬
ence. In that crisis may Heaven save us from
civil discord. A most rare union of firmness and
moderation alone can avert bloodshed. We are
approaching that crisis. The foul plague, per¬
mitted by our fathers to enter among our institu¬
tions, will not be suffered to remain without an
effort for its removal. I tremble when I think on
14
what a precipice we may be standing. May Integ¬
rity and Wisdom guide us along its brink.
Now when questions of such moment and deli¬
cacy become common topics of conversation among
us, to quicken local or professional prejudices and
jealousies into a pernicious growth, is it not as
clear as the unclouded sun at noonday, that our
only safety lies in a moral sentiment, which shall re¬
strain the passions and teach men to judge impar¬
tially and act uprightly? Without this protector,
what is to prevent bitterness, strife, and hostility ?
IV. Another motive to the culture of public vir¬
tue will appear, when we consider tha state and
origin of political parties among us. For many
«
years after the adoption of our present form of
government, so long indeed as the generation by
whose consent it was introduced continued to take
a part in the management of public affairs, the
country was divided between two great parties,
whose origin might be traced in the debates to
which that act gave birth. These parties may have
been somewhat differently marshalled on various
points of national policy, but they were the two
prominent divisions of the people, till the last of
the men of that generation had filled the execu¬
tive chair. Then the struggle, which in the infan¬
cy of the republic had been maintained between
those who took opposite views concerning the ten¬
dency of the federal system, was renewed on other
grounds — on grounds of sectional or personal pre¬
ference of this or that candidate for the Presiden-
16
cy. A contest of this kind has distinguished two
national elections. The old landmarks of party
having been washed away by the progress of time,
new ones may be erected by any person, who has
the disposition and perseverance for such a task.
It is a sad evil, that we are now divided more on
men than on measures, and regard partialities more
than principles. Can any state of political freedom
be more injurious to the moral health of a people ?
Recently the old question concerning the relative
power of the national and the state authorities has
been revived, and threatens to involve the country
in an acrimonious strife. Let the zeal of the old
parties and the temper of the new be poured out to¬
gether upon the land, and will not vials of wrath
and evil have emptied their contents upon us.''
What shall save us from the curse of party rage,
but the diffusion of correct sentiment through the
mass of the people ?
Parties are formed on grounds, that at first seem
far distant from the fields of political warfare ; but
the active genius of this warfare succeeds in con¬
necting itself with them, that it may eventually
mould them to its purpose, and then we may look
for double fierceness and utter contempt of patriot¬
ism. In the midst of the clamour and passion, and
the sufiering these will produce, on what shall the
friends of American liberty build their hope of its
continuance? Upon nothing but the integrity of
the people, on their discernment and preference of
the solid to the specious, of the honorable to the
16
artful, of worthy men to selfish demagogues, and of
the general good to sectional advantage. And this
discernment and choice will be the fruits only of a
just moral sentiment fixed in the public mind in less
stormy seasons.
V. These remarks will be confirmed by a glance
at the number and temper of sects which religion
has called into being. We have no established
church,—for which Heaven be praised,-r-but we
have a countless variety of denominations, that
make the Christian faith the common excuse for
their existence, whether the object be to recom¬
mend or to overthrow it, whether the effect be to
exhibit or to conceal its character. These sects
carry on a sort of predatory warfare against one
another. No great penetration is needed to foresee
the result. Religion is made a matter of polemic
excitement rather than of faithful obedience. The
partisans of the different sects press their tenets and
pursue their measures with the ardour of cham¬
pions ; the people observe them, and either enlist un¬
der the respective leaders, to become,—not good
Christians or better men, but—members of the de¬
nomination which they may chance to join ; or else
they view the whole scene with indignation, and
religion, under whose name all the mischief is done,
falls into contempt. Meanwhile unbelief and irré¬
ligion send forth their emissaries, and bring their
forces into the field. And there will be no just
occasion of wonder if for a time they seem to pre¬
vail. The doctrine is new to most hearers, it is
17
clothed in some scraps and shreds of plausibility, it
is acceptable to the passions of men, it is the oppo¬
site of that combination of irra.tional faith and spir¬
itual vassallage with which they have been disgust¬
ed;— and is it strange that money and zeal and
popular address should give it currency ?
There is little danger that we shall become a
nation of atheists or infidels. The fire, if it be not
fed with opposition, will soon burn out, the novelty
will have ceased, the fallacy have been discovered,
the pernicious effects have been apprehended, if not
realized, and then om: citizens will have too much
shrewdness, putting aside principle, to fold a ser¬
pent in their arms. But there is, I fear, danger of
our becoming a nation among whom shall be found
little sincere goodness. Technical, dogmatic re¬
ligion is not what will save us from this fate. The
moral features of Christianity must be exhibited,
and its authority established among the daily offices
of life. Men must be taught to rçspect and love
one another, to prefer integrity to wealth, and to
rejoice in the love of God their Father. A high
tone of morals, pure manners, and a filial piety
*
must be inculcated and adopted, or the land will be
filled with a race, of narrow minds and cold hearts,
living in unconcern about the future, and prepared
for crime in the present life.
VI. Among the circumstances of disastrous as¬
pect to our Union, must be named the influence of
other considerations than political honesty or moral
worth, in the choice of candidates for office. I do
3
18
not mean to imply, that there ever was a period in
this country, or in any other, when office was con¬
ferred only on the deserving. But in those times,
when a man who received a public trust, was lifted
above his fellows to attract to his own head the
lightning of the royal displeasure, the selfish and
the versatile shrunk from the peril. Times have
changed. Place is now the object of selfish ambi¬
tion, and the reward of convenient pliancy. In the
halls of our national legislature have been seen men,
sent thither not because they were able or patriotic,
but because they had much talent or little princi¬
ple ; and truly honorable men are reluctant to ac¬
cept office, where they shall be exposed to the arts
and violence of political aspirants. There is a
deeper evil than this, which only lies on the surface.
The people are willing to be dazzled by talent and
cheated by pretension. They give their suffrages
cheerfully to candidates, in whose moral character
they repose no jconfidence. The popularity of un¬
principled talent is one of the heaviest misfortunes
that can fall on a land — a pestilence that will
blight every fair promise of liberty and wither a
nation's power. It can be prevented only by the
culture and exercise of just sentiment among the
people. They must be too honest and intelligent
themselves, to entrust their interests to unskilful or
treacherous hands.
VII. I hasten to notice another peculiarity of the
present times, which suggests the necessity of an
increase of the moral power of the community. We
t
19
have entered on a stage of national progress which
is new to us, one in which industry will secure cer¬
tain but not extravagant recompense, and enterprise
must be content with moderate profits. We are,
in other words, approaching the ordinary state of
national existence. This is a condition of recent
appearance. During the days of conflict and doubt,
the country was held in the severe grasp of adver¬
sity. To this period succeeded one of unsettled
government, which was followed by the establish¬
ment of our present political order. Since this last
event we have alternated between two states, one
of unexampled good fortune, when if a vessel were
but sent from our shores upon the ocean, and it
returned laden with wealth, or when we had the
carrying trade of the civilized world, and the other
that of sudden and disastrous depression. We
have never lived as other nations lived, in the im¬
provement of regular resources ; at one time riches
poured in on us as the gold and silver of South
America into Spain in the sixteenth century; at
another we were brought into great distress. For
the last ten years we have been learning, that hence¬
forth a moderate and slow accumulation of wealth
must be our law, as it is the law of the other most
favoured nations of the earth. But this was a
strange and hard lesson, and we but just begin to
comprehend it. This condition of things calls with
special urgency for the presence of moral principle,
to direct us to the choice of right modes of busi¬
ness and correct habits of life. Contentment with
20
something less than opulence, retrenchment of ex¬
penses in our dress and tables, inflexible.uprightness
in our transactions, and general simplicity of char¬
acter, are the duties to which we are summoned by
the stern voice of necessity. And yet distinct as
this voice is, it seems not to be heeded. Luxury
and display among the affluent, and a mischievous
spirit of competition among those whose means are
more narrow, a slavish admiration of foreign fash¬
ions however absurd, and a wicked imitation of them
however costly, thoughtlessness about the future
without a rational enjoyment of the present, are too
frequent subjects of notice. They must be check¬
ed, or we shall descend from our eminence among
the nations. Pure taste, independent judgment,
generous feeling, and conscientious practice in re¬
gard to expenditure, business, and pleasure, must
prevail, or we shall become a scorn instead of ' a
praise in all the earth.'
VIII. Thus far we have contemplated some of
the domestic circumstances of this nation. The
last argument that I shall offer for the maintenance
of religious character among the people, is drawn
from the state of other countries, and our relation
to them. The christian world is passing through a
momentous crisis. A struggle has begun, such as
the kingdoms of Europe have never before known.
The elements of revolution no longer slumber in
any one of them. Ever and anon they break forth
in tumult and bloodshed. Smothered, they are not
idle ; pent up in the confinement which sovereigns
21
impose on them, they are but accumulating strength
for new eruptions. Two parties exist throughout all
the States of Europe, with the exception perhaps of
imperial Russia, — the popular party, and the party
that support old institutions, either because they
know that if these fall they shall be buried in the
ruins, or because habit has so accustomed them to
subjection, that they feel no wish to part with their
chains. The cause of freedom, of human rights,
and the world's improvement, depends on the fidel¬
ity of the popular party to the principles, which they
have undertaken to sustain. A fearful contest must
ensue, with reciprocal defeat, and mutual obstinacy.
If the popular party should prevail, it can only be.
after long and desperate efforts, under which they
will need every encouragement. With this party
our sympathies are inseparably linked. From our
example came the first ray that penetrated the dark¬
ness, from which they have awoke. Under its
steady influence, they hope to press on to the ac¬
complishment of their wishes. If its aspect should
be changed, their disappointment would be severe,
it might be fatal. The eyes of Europe are upon us,
the monarch from his throne watches us with an an¬
gry countenance, the peasant turns his gaze on us
with joyful faith ; the writers on politics quote our
condition as a proof of the possibility of popular
government, the heroes of freedom animate their
followers by reminding them of our success. At
no moment of the last half century has it been so
important, that we should send up a clear and strong
22
light, that may be seen across the Atlantic. An
awful charge of unfaithfulness to the interests of
mankind will be recorded against us, if we suffer
this light to be obscured by the mingling vapours of
passion, and misrule, and sin.
But not Europe alone will be influenced by the
character we give to our destiny. The republics
of the South have no other guide towards the es¬
tablishment of order and freedom than our example.
If this should fail them, the last stay would be torn
from their hope. We are placed under a most
solemn obligation to keep before them this motive
to perseverance in their endeavours to place free
institutions on a sure basis. Shall we leave those
wide regions to despair and anarchy ? Better that
they had patiently borne a foreign yoke, though it
bowed their necks to the ground.
Citizens of the United States, it has been said of
us with truth, that we are at the head of the popular
party of the world. Shall we be ashamed of so
glorious a rank ? or shall we basely desert our place,
and throw away our distinction ? Forbid it, selfre-
spect, patriotism, philanthropy. Christians, we be¬
lieve that God has made us a name and a praise
among the nations. We believe that our religion
yields its best fruits in a free land. Shall we be re¬
gardless of our duty as creatures of the divine
power, and recipients of His goodness ? shall we be
indifferent to the effects which our religion may
work in the world ? Forbid it, our gratitude, our
faith, our piety.
23
In one way only can we discharge our duty to the
rest of mankind;—by the purity and elevation
of character that shall distinguish us as a people.
If we sink into luxury, vice, or moral apathy^ our
brightness will be lost, our prosperity deprived of its
vital element, and we shall appear disgraced before
man, guilty before God.
I have presented to your notice, my hearers, some
circumstances of the present time, which, to my
mind exhibit the necessity of preserving in this
people a sense of moral obligation, and of religious
accountableness. Apart from all general arguments,
these considerations seem to me to present our duty
and its importance in unequivocal terms. If God
had miraculously inscribed his will on the parchment
which contains our Declaration of Independence,
it would not have been more plain. Heaven has
designed for us a glorious destiny, it has committed
to us a high responsibleness. The past, the present,
and the future join their instructions. They exhort,
they command, they adjure us, to maintain the su¬
premacy of principle, to reverence truth, to cultivate
pure morals, to live according to the spirit of the
gospel of Christ. The future, I say, for generations
yet unborn will be affected by our decision in regard
to our character ; thè present, as I have laboured
this morning to show ; the past, for in the language
of one* whose words I rejoice to repeat here, as I
would they were inscribed on the heart of every
* President Quincy — Centennial Discourse.
24
American citizen, ' The great comprehensive truths,
written in letters of living light on every page of our
history * * * are these ; — Human happiness has no
perfect security but freedom, freedom none but vir¬
tue, virtue none but knowledge, and neither free¬
dom nor virtue nor knowledge has any vigor or
immortal hope, except in the principles of the chris¬
tian faith, and in the sanctions of the christian
religion.'
DISCOURSE
delivered^ IN THE \ ^
CHURCH IN BRATTLE saUARE, BOSTON,
J
%
AUGUST 9, 1832,
THE DAY
\
APPOINTED FOR FASTING AND PRAYER
IN MASSACHUSETTS,
ON ACCOimT OF THE
APPROACH OF CHOLERA.
I
BY JOHN G.,PALFREY, A.M.
PROFESSOR OF BIBLICAL LITERATURB IN HARVARD UNIVBRSITT.
PUBLISHED BT REqUEST.
BOSTON :
GRAY AND BOWEN... WASHINGTON STREET.
1832.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1832,
BY GRAY AND BO WEN,
In the Clerk's Office of the District of Massachusetts.
J. £. HINCKLEY AND CO., PRINTERS,
no. 14 water-street.
DISCOURSE.
#
*
Isaiah XXVI. 9.
WHEN THY JUDGMENTS ARE IN THE EARTH, THE INHABITANTS OF TB«
WORLD WILL LEARN lUGIlTEOUSNESS.
The disease, whose late inroad upon our country
is the occasion of the people of this Commonwealth
being invited by their government to unite to-day in
a religious service, is of not precisely ascertained ori¬
gin, but its history for the last fifteen years has been
carefully observed and recorded. In the month of
August, 1817, it broke out in the province of Bengal
in Hindostán, at a place called Jessore, about a hun¬
dred miles northeast of Calcutta. Traversing the
intermediate villages, and occasioning a great mortal¬
ity in its route, it reached Calcutta early in Septem¬
ber. Extending thence in various directions,—north¬
west, west, and south,—through this thickly peopled
peninsula, it reached simultaneously at the end of
about a year the city of Madras on its eastern, the
Coromandel coast, and that of Bombay on its west¬
ern ; and in three or four months after this latter pe¬
riod appeared in the island of Ceylon near its south¬
ern extremity. Not to speak of its progress in
4 .
other directions,—as to the south, where it raged in
the islands of Bourbon and Mauritius towards the
close of 1819, and to the east, where it spread in the
six following years into the Birman empire, Siam,
and China,—the western course from Hindostán
4
brought it, in 1821, into the southeastern corner of
Arabia, whence it passed to the cities on the Persian
Gulf, and the rivers which empty themselves into
that great basin from the north. From Persia, de¬
scending to the shore of the Mediterranean, but not
diverging into the countries on its borders, its course
lay through Armenia into the southern provinces of
Russia in Europe, which however it did not reach till
after a long interval of suspension, and slow advance,
two years ago. Since that period, its movement has
been comparatively very rapid, though also much more
limited in the breadth over which it has spread in the*
line of its progress. Something more than a year
since, it passed the western Russian border into Po¬
land, and appeared successively, in the autumn and
winter, in Prussia, England, and France. Its cross¬
ing to our own shores, over the intervening ocean, in
the month of June last, and its subsequent ravages in
our most populous city, are matter of recent notoriety.
The destruction of life it has wrought has no doubt
been great. Of one calculation, from an accredited
source, and in wide circulation,* the result, which is
blazoned forth in capitals, for the greafer effect, re¬
presents the number of deaths to be ascribed to it in
fourteen years, to have been fifty millions. This, of
* Ctuarterly Review, No. XCL pp. 170, 207,
5
course, is altogether rude and unsatisfactory; for ^
bills of mortality, in many of the countries where it
has prevailed, are by no means to be come at. But
let us assume it for the moment, as exhibiting some
approximation to the truth, in order to observe what
strength of inference it may justify, as to an unprece¬
dented malignity of the disease. I have known the
conclusion drawn, upon this basis, that the malady
has carried off one in twenty of the human race, be¬
cause fifty millions are a twentieth part of a thousand
millions, at which number the population of the globe
is, in a rough reckoning, computed. But a moment's
consideration only is needed to show that this is a
most widely erroneous estimate. If the malady in
question has made fifty millions of victims in fourteen
years, it has made, on an average, somewhat more
than three millions and a half each year. Now reck¬
oning the average human life at thirty years, the num¬
ber of deaths during the same period, under the ac¬
tion of the ordinary prevailing causes, has been at the
rate of not much less than thirty-five millions a year ;
that is, this disease has been destroying about one
tenth part as many as are destroyed by the ipcladies
with which we have been all along familiar, or one
three hundredth part of the human race. But again ;
there is not the smallest reason to suppose that the
three and a half millions, who may have annually
been swept away by this disease, have been so
many added to the thirty-five millions who die year
by year in common times. For it is a well-known
property of unusual epidemic diseases, to take the
6
place of, to supersede and expel, in a degree and for
the time, such other disorders as are of common
prevalence in the region where they rage. That is,
either one or the other, or both, of two things, take
place. Other maladies become partially merged in
the new epidemic,—their symptoms subsiding or
deviating into the symptoms of this,—and then, in
proportion as its range is extended, theirs is abridged;
in other words, it destroys the same lives, which in
its absence, those other diseases would destroy;—or,
on the other hand, if it falls on different subjects from
what would be attacked by the maladies more com¬
monly known, it does not necessarily cause the ag¬
gregate mortality to be greater ; for, that very state of
the atmosphere or other secret physical influence,
through which it occasions danger to some, may, to
the same or to some different extent greater or less,
be salubrious to others of different constitution, situ¬
ation or habits, just as the drug which would be one
man's remedy, will be another's bane; or the noxious
principle, whatever it be, by which it does its work,
may be a concentration of unwholesome elements
existing always in a diffused and weakened state
around us, and which, when collected into a limited
region, to produce a remarkable devastation there,
leave the neighboring regions, from which they are
withdrawn, in a so much more healthy condition than
before. So that though it may, without doubt, be
true, that an uncommon epidemic may add, and add
essentially, to the exposures and the destruction of
human life, this is by no means to be safely assum-
7
ed as a necessary fact. The contrary may be true,
as well. Other mortal diseases may have been abat¬
ing in the same proportion, or in something like the
proportion, that this has spread ; and which of these
events has at any time in truth occurred, presents a
question to be determined, if at all, by inquiry and
good judgment, and not by conjecture or imagination.
I am not saying that the agent to which our attention
i^ now turned, is not to be charged with a considera¬
ble destruction of human life, additional to what, un¬
der the various forms incident to the wear and decay
of this mortal body, takes place in common times. I
only suggest, that he who should affirm the contrary,
—who should maintain, for instance, that in the last
fifteen years, or in any five, or any one of them,
many more, or more in proportion of the human race
%
have died, than in the same period immediately pre¬
ceding, or in any like period of the last century,—
would be maintaining that which he cannot prove, or
so much as show any probable grounds for believing.
For anything that I have been able to learn, it cannot
be made to appear in the case of any country, scarcely*
even of any city in the civilized world,—that is, in
those whCTe the means of information are accessible
and worthy of trust,—it cannot, I say, be made to ap¬
pear that the aggregate number of deaths in a course of
months has been materially increased by the presence
of this disease ;—still less, which is much the more
pertinent question, can it be made to appear, that.
* The statement is made broader in respect to cities, so as ta allow for the
cases of Paris, Quebec, and Montreal,
8
taking ány short term of years collectively, any such
material increase has been witnessed from this cause
in any continent, kingdom, district, or town.
II. Am I urging then that this malady ought not
to be regarded as being what, ia the language of our
honored chief magistrate's proclamation which has
brought us together, it is called, a divine "judg'
ment ? " By no means. It is a new, and therefore a
striking, and in some respects it is without doubt a
peculiarly terrific form of admonition of the frailty of
our mortal nature. The ignorance, under which the
best science confesses itself to lie, of its causes and
its cure, and accordingly the helplessness which we
should feel in its grasp, and which we do feel in its
neighborhood,—the neglect of premonition with which
it assails,—and the greedy and determined speed with
which it does its work,—^undeniably these circum¬
stances go to mark it with a formidable character.
And as to its quality, attributed in the word judgment,
of being a divine visitation,—without going into the
metaphysics of the doctrine of providence, which in
other times I have discussed largely in this place, I
will only at present say, that, in my view, all credible
intimations of reason, as well as all just interpretation
of scripture, go to establish, in a plain, and important,
and unquestionable sense, the truth, that whatever
befáis us men befáis us under the divine direction, so
that nothing of this kind can forbear, or invade, or
stay, or depart, except by a providential agency.
But let us understand what we mean by a judg¬
ment ; for yet another idea, beyond what have been
9
referred to, is very commonly, though, I apprehend
erroneously, supposed to be essentially comprehended
in the term. Neither in the view of reason nor of
religion is a judgment necessarily,—though it may
be,—a judicial infliction, a retribution, a penalty im¬
posed for transgression. That the laws of scripture
phraseology do not demand that sense, let the fol¬
lowing among other passages which might be cited
show, where the Hebrew word used for sentence and
judgment, is the same with that in the original of our
text. " Let my sentence come forth from thy pres¬
ence," said David in the seventeenth Psalm, when
the sentence or judgment, for which he was suing,
so far from being penal, was one of acquittal and
approbation. And again, in the nineteenth Psalm,
" the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous
altogether." Nothing of a retributive character is
here to be supposed. The word, synonymous in the
quoted passage, as in various other places, with stat¬
ute, denotes, in general, a declaration, however made,
of the divine will, or, to state the meaning yet
more largely, an intimation or exercise of the divine
pleasure.
And let any one, who speaks of this calamity as a
judgment in the sense of a retributive infliction, con¬
sider in what manner he is prepared to explain him¬
self. Upon whom or what is it such a retributive
infliction ? Can we say, upon the continents which
it has traversed ?—since no less wide than this has
been its spread. Continent is merely a name which
we use for the purpose of conveniently designating
2
10
$
an expanse of adjacent territory, enclosed within
certain great natural boundaries. A continent is no
moral being, that it should be a subject of punish¬
ment. It cannot offend as such ; though the indi¬
viduals dwelling in it may, a different case, which will
presently be noticed. A continent is not so much
as a body politic. It has no common cause, nor
duty, nor character, nor responsibleness, nor mind to
be affected by punishment so as to grieve or amend.
—Is the judgment in question then to be reckoned
a retributive infliction for the sins of the nations
which it has visited ? A nation, acting as such
through its government, has unity, and it has morals
and interests of its own ; and it is true that God does
punish national sins with temporal evils, because na¬
tions,—not being, like their component parts, immor¬
tal existences, having no being except in this world,
—to be rewarded or punished at all, must be re¬
warded or punished with temporal prosperity or loss.
But, in order to administer this divine government
over nations so as to produce the intended good
effects, to cause the punishments applied to bring
about their due results of amendment in the party
punished, and reflection and caution in others, it
seems necessary,—unless, indeed, there be a revealed
explanation of the divine design, as there was in the
case of the Jews,—it seems necessary, I say, that
the punishment, under providential guidance, should
be made to appear to ' follow on the sin in the way
of effect upon cause, so as to point to the sin which
is the object of divine displeasure, as when a nation
n
%
is puuished for its luxurious habits, by decUuiug into
weakness and want. Nothing of this kind can be
detected in the case under our notice. We can point
to no sin, which being apparently and universally the
cause of the visitation in question, regarded in its
light of a calamity, is to be interpreted by a religious
man to be also its provocation, regarded in its light
of a judgment. Again ; traversing the surface of the
earth in certain great lines, it appears to have visited,
indiscriminately, nations of the most various and
opposite principles and habits ; thus utterly con¬
founding us, if we will regard it as a rod of national
punishment, in our conjectures about what we need
first of all to know, in order for it to serve as pun¬
ishment,—that is, what sins it is meant to punish.
Nay, on two separate occasions, at least, it attacked
in succession two bordering nations which were at
war,->-a war which involved the leading principles of
their policy, not to say of their national character
a case which would seem to justify a probable infer¬
ence, that, if the one nation had a bad cause, and
deserved punishment, the other had a good one, and
deserved forbearance. And, once more ; it appears
impossible to regard it in the light of retributive visi¬
tation for national sin, from the circumstance that it
has not universally,—as, for instance, the privations
and burdens of war do,—nor even always exten¬
sively, made itself felt throughout a country, but has
often had a limited diffusion, in districts apparently
in no leading respect distinguished in character from
those contiguous, while it has left these latter unaf¬
fected in any part of their essential prosperity.—-Is it -
to be called then, once more, a retributive iudement
12
upon individuals, upon those whom it has taken, or
those whom it has bereaved ? This would be, my
hearers, to recognize a principle of divine govern¬
ment unknown, as I think, to Christianity. Indi¬
viduals are to be rewarded for their obedience, and
punished for their sins by positive exertion of divine
power, affecting their condition according to revealed
laws ; but it is not in this world that they are to be
so. Providential visitations affecting our lot in this
world, are rightly called judgments indeed, if we
carefully limit the word to the sense of divine in¬
terpositions, aflording occasions for reflection, and
means for the improvement of the character; and this,
they may be to us, if others, as truly as if we our¬
selves, are the persons whose lot they affect. But
retributive judgments they are not. Our retribution
is to come in the life beyond the grave. All here is
tentative, probationary, designed to improve and so
to bless. If, by argument from effect to cause, a dis¬
aster which we have incurred is capable of being
traced to a sin which we have committed, then we
rightly conclude that it is designed to improve and
bless ourselves in the way of calling us to repentance
and amendment for that sin, and to improve and
bless others in the way of enforcing on them a cau¬
tion to avoid the like. If not capable of being so
traced, it is still discipline, no doubt, for ourselves, or
others, or both, but not the discipline of retribution
for him on whom it falls. What was our Saviour's
*
emphatic language used imder like circumstanees to
those considered ? " Suppose ye," said he, " that
those Galileans, whose blood Pilate mingled with
their sacrifices, were sinners above all the Galileans
13
because they sufíered such things ? I tell you, Nay ;
but except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.
Or those eighteen, on whom the tower in Siloam
fell, and slew them, think ye that they were sinners
above all men that dwelt in Jerusalem ? I tell you,
Nay."
III. We have thus seen, at some length, on what
grounds and in what sense the wide-spread malady
under our notice is rightly ranked as one of those di¬
vine judgments of which our text speaks. And I
have urged this latter point, my hearers, because I
«
apprehend that the idea of its being designed as a
specific retribution for specific sins, national or per¬
sonal, would tend, as far as it should give direction
to our thoughts, to distract our thoughts from what
ought to be the chief subject of their consideration.
Should we entertain that sentiment, our obligation
would then appear to confine itself to the searching
out, and cleansing ourselves from, the particular sin
which had provoked the particular judgment, instead
of doing,—what is at once much more to the purpose
and more feasible,—giving way to all various reflec¬
tions on God's relation to us, which it is fitted to ex¬
cite, and especially extracting from it all lessons of
righteousness, which it is especially fitted to convey.
It is justly reckoned a judgment of God, not as being
a retributive visitation,—this, at all events, we have
no right to assume, and we have no way to prove,—
but as being an apparent and remarkable divine dis¬
pensation, addressing us,solemnly, and capable of
being turned to account for our improvement and
good. When the judgments of God are in the earth,
the inhabitants of the world ought to learn righteous-
m
«
ness* ' By way of making this principien practjcali|i
useful, let us proceed briefly to consider what ate
some parts of that righteousness which this particnla|
judgment affords us special occasicm or advantage!,
for learning.
1. And first, let me advert in a word to a mostdesii''
able improvement in the manners of society, to wh^
the attention of wise and good men has been of jate
with much determination and publicity directed» and.
which it seems that the prevailing malady may ,be
expected to promote. Certainly it is not dismrderijt«
livers alone, who have hitherto been its victims : Oft
9
the contrary, numbers of men, of character the ni(^.
irreproachable, have swelled its melancholy lisfifc
Still, one of the prominent facts belonging to the case
is, that among the intemperate its greatest ravages,
are uniformly witnessed ;—in other words, of the few
laws relating to its action, as yet ascertained, this is.
one, that habits of excess create a distinctive and
St ong predisposition to it.. Here, then, is another
calamity added to the long catalogue -of. those intu
which the inebriate plunges himself ; and if the feW»
from which he ought to shrink, have lost by familiari¬
ty something of their power over his imagination and
his fears, it is to be hoped that this, with its novd
terrors, may still. do something effective towards ex<;
citing them anew. Indeed, the tendency to which I
have referred once settled,^as it may now be affirm?
ed to be altogether beyond dispute,—the result of
some further check to intemperate habits can scarcely
fail extensively to follow. , The call to caution is loud
and alarming. The man who is compelled to see
15
that an irregularity in which hitherto he might in¬
dulge himself with comparative safety, may now very
probably send him to his grave before the rising of
another sun, must, to persist, be maddened with
something more, if possible, than a drunkard's frenzy.
All may advantageously learn, under this added mo¬
tive to vigilance, to practise a stricter control over
those appetites, every undue indulgence of which is
attended with various danger, now revealed in a new
shape ; and the lesson may be found to be attended
with so many benefits, that there will be no disposi¬
tion to unlearn it, when the present peculiar reason
for regarding it shall have passed away. And they
who have hitherto interested themselves in the meas¬
ures in operation for banishing the manifold evils of
intemperate habits, may feel their hands strengthened
for the good work by a perception of the peculiar
mischiefs which now are threatened by the vice, and
of the increased sympathy which now, under an ex¬
cited sense of common danger, the public will accord
to their endeavors ; while others, who have heretofore
taken no part in the enterprise, may now be moved
t
to do so by considerations of personal safety ; and the
sentiment of the public at large may find itself con¬
strained, under existing circumstances, to authorize
vigorous measures to be taken for its furtherance,
which in common times it would hardly be persuaded
to adopt. In short, in addition to those which we
have long been hearing, here is another loud testi¬
mony of providence against the danger to a commu¬
nity of tolerating habits of vicious excess within it ;
16
and the lessons of righteousness in this respect, which
hitherto, as individuals or as citizens, we may have
but imperfectly learned, are now commended again
with striking emphasis to every man's attention, in
every capacity that belongs to him.
2. Another part of righteousness, which the appre¬
hended judgment calls on us to learn, is found in the
sentiment of a Christian courage. Not the courage
which shuts its eyes against an impending danger,
blindly counts upon exemption for itself, and neglects
to take steps betimes to avoid or mitigate the evil
threatened. No; the levity which, while yet the
apprehended scourge is somewhat remote, admits of
such a state of mind, is the same which, on its near
approach, will be likely to be manifested in the dif¬
ferent form of a craven panic. But the courage
which looks the evil tranquilly in the face, not over¬
rating either its intrinsic magnitude, or the probabili¬
ty of becoming exposed to it ; which coolly investi¬
gates the means of safety, possesses itself in a manly
composure of spirit, so as to be prepared wisely to
make trial of them, and then sustains itself in a calm
confidence that, having done its own part, the great
ultimate interest is secure, while the issue of the pre¬
sent peril is in better hands. The courage, which
we shall desire to have learned and to practise when
the peril shall come, is to be founded in part on what
we shall have done beforehand, on what we shall
have been doing now. It is our duty, our religious
duty, at all times, to endeavor to make the most of,
and to retain the longest, the powers of usefulness
t
17
committed to our keeping and administration, bj ap¬
plying all means known to us for preserving a sound
mind in a sound body ; and all those personal habits,
thus highly sanctioned, of prudence, moderation, and
method, in diet, regimen, exposure, and so on,—hab¬
its which do not admit of being enumerated here, but
which are of perpetual and urgent obligation, are to
make part of the proper basis for that composed state
of mind in which we ought to desire to be, when the
apprehended evil shall come nigher. To this end, we
ought also to cherish in ourselves, and encourage in
others, that just confidence in the discretion "and pa¬
rental good intentions of those who have the charge
of us as a community, which will greatly animate,
facilitate, and aid their labors, afford the best security
for their proving efficacious, and tend in every way to
strengthen the foundations for our own and for the
common comfort and safety. Above all, we should
be diligently providing for our spirits, against the time
when they may be tempted to faint, the support of
the Christian faith and graces. We should be busy
in the religious self-discipline that will prepare us to
encourage ourselves, as we are told David did in the
gloomiest juncture of his fortunes, in the Lord our God.
3. And this brings me to say, that, from the
judgment of God in question, we ought, for another
part of righteousness, to learn te dernt s ? to others,
and be very careful not to learn inhumanity. Among
the dreaded aspects of new and malignant epi¬
demic diseases, there is no other nearly so horrible
as the barbarous selfishness which they have been
3
18
known to engender in timid minds. To fall into
this, under the excitement of danger, is to ensure
immeasurably the greater evil for the chance of
escaping the less. God send us the cholera much
rather than .hardness of heart ! A country where one
in every ten should be falling before a pestilence,
would, doubtless, present a melancholy spectacle;
but how incalculably,—shall I not say how infi-'
nitely,—less dismal to every rightly judging mind,
than one where, while such a visitation was endured,
appealing, in a tone to soften rocks, to human power
for relief, and to human feelings for sympathy, the
other nine tenths, or a large, or any portion of them,
were seen to stand aloof, and let their brethren die
unaided and uncheered, from dread of personal
exposure. I pretend, my hearers, to no medical
science. I cannot argue the question of contagion
or non-contagion. I do not disguise from myself
that whatever persuasion I may entertain on the
subject is based on very inadequate knowledge.
But I say even, hold for nothing the opinion of
many of the wisest men, formed from the most
diligent inquisition into facts ; assume the con¬
tagiousness for a probability, or even for a truth;
and the dictates of Christian morality,—not at all
of a sublimated, but of a judicious and discriminating
morality,—are still the same. Nay, I care not, for
the moment, to go as far as this. I will stand
simply by ^e dictates of good sense, directing its
observations to nothing further than the means of
present safety. For, if the propagation of the
19
disease by contagion be a fact in the case, it is
certainly not the only, nor the only material fact.
If some directly exposed to the contagion of the
disease are infected by it in consequence, all certainly
are not, nor any thing like a major part. If some
afflicted with it suppose they can trace the influence
to contagion, all do not so suppose, even when
hindered by no prepossession against the dcctrire,
nor is it supposed of them all by others, the best
acquainted with their individual circums anees and
the best qualified to judge. If there be danger,
again, in communication with the sick, time after
time it has been shown to be such a danger, that
there are no precautions so jealous that they can be
relied on to avert it. If there be a danger of this kind,
—which, I repeat, is a question belonging to others
to discuss,—it is yet undoubtedly a danger to w hich
we may be the most immediately exposed, without the
smallest injury, for great multitudes have been so ex¬
posed, and felt no harm ; witness, in particular, the
unquestioned and remarkable, though not, of course,
absolute exemption of physicians and other attendants
upon the sick in hospitals and religious houses,—as
well as elsewhere, where the record is necessarily
less exact ; and this too, notwithstanding the extra¬
ordinary fatigues to which persons so circumstanced
are unavoidably subject. If there be a danger of
this kind, so there is again,—this has been repeatedly
seen,—great danger in the fearful and agitated state
of feeling which would shun it. Wherefore, if we have
taken up the theory in question, let us still rest in the
20
maxim for our great security, that the best repellent
of contagion is a courageous mind. We do not know
how contagion, if it be a phenomenon of the case,
communicates disease, but we do know,—for to this
point the evidence of all experience is full,—»that a
composed and confident spirit is the trustiest armour
of defence against it. Under circumstances which
allow no man to feel a security for his life, let every
one then obtain for himself this most available protec¬
tion ; and above all, let every man covet for himself
the higher security of being found,—should he be sum¬
moned away,—at his post of duty to God and his
fellow-men. That is the very place to be taken from.
I repeat it, undue uneasiness on account of the theory
to which I have referred, is a very likely way,
whether the theory be well founded or not, to realize
all the evil dreaded. If it be not well founded, of
course th(Te is no danger in discharging all the
offices of humanity. If it be well founded, still,
with the influence in action all around us, whatever
precautions we could take would aflbrd a miserable
reliance, compared with that collected and brave
spirit which has carried so many safely through,
whom it had sent on the blessed errand of mercy
into the thickest of the danger. And if, after all, the
fatal messenger were commissioned to seek us, where
else should we so willingly confront it, as where a self-
approving conscience would not tremble at the sound
of its step ? Yes, my hearers ; admonitions of our
common frailty are sent,—not to rend all relations d
amity, not to suspend all offices of good-will, not to
21
crush all impulses of love, not to make us dread, and
annoy, and forsake one another, God forbid !—but to
impress on us a sense of common interest, to quicken
us to a watchful mutual affection, to melt us to sentH
ments of brotherly compassion, to nerve us for deeds
of heroic beneficence. Human suffering is intended
to speak to human hearts, and indeed we do need
God's pity, if ever it should fail to speak to ours. The
dreaded pest can do nothing nearly so bad for us^ let
it exhaust on us its store of loathsome tortures, as to
teach us an insensible, cruel, brutal indifference to
all but to ourselves. And if, in such seasons, the
most contemptible aspects of human character have
sometimes been displayed, so have often the most
fair and godlike. For us the time may be near at
hand, for some of the beautiful graces developed in
the relations between man and his brother man to
be conspicuously manifested, in domestic truth and
a more expanded benevolence, ministering, in the
loftiness of their self-devotion, by the couch of
helplessness and anguish ; professional duty, shrinking
under its high sense of honor and responsibleness,
from no labour nor peril; public spirit and Christian
«
bounty stretching out their open hands. Should it
come, may it then be seen that we have all been pre-
paring, in our several spheres, to be true to the exi¬
gencies of that time ! So, when the judgment shall
have passed away, the righteousness it has matured
may prove ample compensation even for hard strug¬
gles it may have cost us.
22
4. Once more ; from the divine judgment in ques¬
tion we may reasonably be expected to take a les¬
son in so much of righteousness, as consists in a
profound sense that,—helpless ourselves,—we are
absolutely in God's hands,—along with those other
reflecting, self-scrutinizing, self-renouncing, and at
the same time confiding and hopeful habits of mind,
which that sentiment, wrought into the mind, may be
expected to create. We are absolutely in God's
hands,—who can doubt it ?—to be dealt with unre¬
sisting according to the dictates of his will, whether
in methods of operation with which we have, or with
which we have not been before familiar.—We speak
of an order of nature, and sometimes we speak of it
in such a way, that we might seem to imagine all the
machinery, with which the divine power is ever to
shape our condition, to be discernible within the lim¬
its of that order. We arrange the outlines and parcel
out the departments of our sciences, so as to find a
place somewhere for every thing which we have ob¬
served ; and then, by the way in which we speak of
our sciences, one might suppose we thought them
co-extensive with the limits of all knowable things.
But here is an operation of God's power as unheard
of, as if he had visibly stretched forth his "red right
arm " to smite us from a cloud. Here is a demon¬
stration of God's almightiness, the like of which, for
any thing we know, has never before occurred since
the globe we dwell upon was rolled forth on its great
cycle of revolutions. Here is a new element intro-
23
duced into the system of human things. Here is a
new action of divine providence on man. To no or¬
der of nature, before recognized, does it belong.
Science knows nothing of it, or, at all events, nothing
but what it has very lately and very imperfectly
learned. The mysterious plague passes from nation
to nation, trampling down masses of men in its path,
and because we have as yet obtained little acquaint¬
ance with those related circumstances, apparently de¬
termining its course, which, did we know them well
enough to philosophize upon them, we should denom¬
inate secondary causes,—because of this, we are fain
to refer it directly to the primary cause of a divine
agency, and to say that it should impress on us a
truth, which on the discerning mind,—but not on the
undiscerning, by reason of their familiarity,—is equal¬
ly enforced by all the common methods of God's
government ;—the truth, namely, that we are entirely
and impotently at God's disposal, and that he has
power to dispose of us in ways altogether hitherto
unknown, as well as in those of which we have had
the most experience.—And this truth, when brought
to view, is commonly declared in a manner to show
that something peculiarly awful and startling is under¬
stood to be announced. The truth is grand and mo¬
mentous, and so far it is awful. And the manner of
admonition, by which it is brought home to the miml,
as in the present instance, may be startling. But
the doctrine itself, that we are absolutely in God's
hands,—is that a doctrine to shudder at ? Where can
24
we better be ? Where would we be, if not in the
hands of infinite wisdom and love ? Alarmed, by
anything which makes us feel, more sensibly than
before, that we are completely at God's disposal,—
God's disposal, who regards our danger, knows our
needs, cares for our well-being, will listen to our
prayers ! Why, it is precisely what above all things
else should compose, and satisfy, and encourage, and
rejoice us. Alarmed we might well be, if any thing
could lead us to doubt this. Affrighted into the e.x-
tren^st agony of terror we might reasonably be, if
any thing could show us the contrary of this. But,
to be brought to perceive more vividly the nearness
of God to us, to be made to understand more thor¬
oughly that whatever befáis us befáis us under the
administration of his will, is not here precisely the
amplest cause for a perfect repose and contentment
of the mind ?
I would repeat, then, in conclusion, the scriptural
expression* before used, for it is full of weighty
meaning —as David did, when things were much
darker to him than they are now to us, let us encoun
age ourselves, my hearers, in the Lord our God. He
found, in the sequel, that he had not encouraged him¬
self unreasonably ; and the spirit of pious confidence,
and hope for the best issue, which he had maintained
in the worst of times, was, under the divine blessing,
made a means of the re-establishment of his fortunes.
Listening to the prayers which our people pour out
* 1 Samuel xxx. 6
I
before him this day, and granting them an answer of
peace according to their terms, it may please God to
withhold the dreaded step of the destroyer from being
planted on our borders. Or, if it come, stjll, by his
smile on our endeavors made in humble trust in his
goodness, it may come in some form of mitigated
hardship, may be forbearing in its ravages, and not
linger in its stay. But, at all events, our main con¬
cern is, that should the judgment be among them,—
walking in darkness, wasting at noon-day,—-the peo¬
ple—endeavoring to learn from it the lessons of right¬
eousness it bears, should not, in remembering that they
are mortal, forget that they are also immortal beings,
and that any danger they may incur in this latter
character is unspeakably more serious than in the for¬
mer. Let the people of our city,—a city set upon a
hill in respect to power of moral influence,—now en¬
tertain a just sense of the amount of good which it is
in their power to do to others, who are looking to
them, and of their responsibleness for employing this
capacity of usefulness conscientiously and prudently,
and in all ways well. Let them be spirited to set an
example of orderly, diligent, sagacious, and liberal
preparation to await,—or, if it may be, ward off,—the
judgment; of erect and confiding courage to meet it,
should it come ; of patience to bear it ; of humane en¬
deavor to relieve it; and of self-applicatiomto extract
from it all lessons of righteousness which it may have
to teach. When, my hearers, as a community, we
have joined our counsels, our best endeavors of pre-
4
26
caution, and our devotions together, and while as
individuals, we give diligent heed to the Christian
discipline of our spirits to meet the worst or the best,
at the same time " continuing instant in prayer," and
resolved that taking no risks in the way of any kind
of self-indulgence, we will be the more free to take
them in the way of being servkeable to others, we
have then done and are doing all that belongs to our¬
selves and the issue of events is where it is far hap¬
piest for us that it should be,—with the wise and
good God,
SERMON,
PREACHED 117
THE TWELFTH CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, BOSTON,
THURSDAY, AUGUST 9, 1832,
THE DAY APPOINTED FOR
%
FASTING, HUMILIATION, AND PRAYER,
ON ACCOUNT OF THE
APPROACH OF THE CHOLERA.
BY SAMUEIi BARRETT,
Minister of that Church.
PUBLISHED BT BEQUEST.
BOSTON:
MILLIARD, GRAY, AND COMPANY
1832.
Printed by 1. R. Butts, Sobool Street, Boston.
SERMON.
1 CHEON. XXI^23.
Then David said, grant me the place, that I may build an altar therein
unto tlie Lord, that the plague may be stayed from the people.
It may have occurred to some of you, while lis¬
tening to the chapter which I have just read, that
a resemblance might be traced between our con¬
dition and that of the people respecting whom the
words of my text were spoken. Such analogies,
though not to be dwelt upon, may be recognis¬
ed. A pestilence, which David preferred to cer¬
tain other calamities, for a reason creditable to
his piety, had slain its thousands in various parts
of the land, and was now approaching Jerusalem ;
but here the ' hand of the angel that destroyed was
stayed.' So with respect to ourselves ; a dreadful
disease has prevailed on all sides of us, and yet we
have been thus far exempt from its ravages. On the
east in England, Scotland, and Ireland ; on the north
in Canada; on the west in New York ; on the south
within forty miles of us, it has carried death, and
evils worse than death, in its train. Still, we have
4
been spared ; our cherished city, like Jerusalem of
old, has not been smitten. As it was there, so would
it not seem here the bidding of Providence to the de¬
stroying angel, 'It is enough, stay now thine hand' ?
But thus it may he only in appearance. No one
is privileged to say that we shall continue an excep¬
tion. The scourge of other communities may he
commissioned to chastise us. We, as well as they,
may have rendered such discipline needful. If so, it
will he inflicted unless the necessity for it he remov¬
ed. How soon, is known only to the Omniscient
One. What, therefore, better becomes us at a time
like the present, than efforts to rid ourselves of the
occasions for the malady that threatens us, or, should
it he now too late for this, to qualify ourselves to meet
it aright ? What better becomes us, than so to em¬
ploy this day, set apart for religious services, that we
shall not henceforward require that severer chas¬
tisement which others have incurred ; or that, if
it must he inflicted upon us also, we shall be
able to receive it with prepared minds ? Such
is our duty, such our privilege, at seasons like
this. For no other object have we come togeth¬
er. We have not come with the thought of pla¬
cating an angry Deity by our solemn services.
We have not come with the hope that by our tears
of sorrow and our words of supplication, we can
alter the mind of Him, ' in whom there is no vari¬
ableness neither shadow of turning.' We have not
come with the expectation that in consequence of
any thing we may say or do, the divinely appointed
5
course of nature will be interrupted, or the physical
operations around, above, and within us, arrested
by miracle on our behalf. We have not come to
bewail ourselves in useless lamentations, as if a
judgment, in the popular sense of the term, was
about to be sent upon us. We have not come to
frighten each other, as if the established laws of
the creation were to be suspended for our special
punishment, and so, by disconcerting one another,
render ourselves unfit for the duties incumbent upon
us. We have not come to complain, as tliough the
disease that has ravaged so many cities and towns,
and which we have some reason to expect will visit
us, were an unmixed evil, a disaster neither accom¬
panied nor followed by any good, and thus to cast
reproach on the arrangements of Divine Providence.
No, brethren, we have not met for any such pur¬
pose ; but we have assembled that, while humbly
acknowledging our manifold transgressions, thank¬
fully ádoring the wisdom and goodness of God in all
his dispensations, and devoutly praying to him for
whatever it shall accord with his own just and be¬
neficent rules to vouchsafe to his children, we may at
the same time do all in our power to produce every
needed change in ourselves, whether it be for the
prevention of the threatened malady, or whether it
be for the right endurance of it. We have assem¬
bled that, on the one hand, we may be induced so to
reform those habits, which if not corrected by our¬
selves, require and will receive the chastisements of
Providence ; and that, on the other hand, we may be
6
led seasonably to furnish our minds and hearts with
all befitting dispositions, resolutions, and strength for
the event, which if it does come, comes, we may.
be sure, not without adequate occasion ; not in vio¬
lation of any fixed law of nature ; not from the aveng¬
ing arm of a wrathful Deity ; not without the most
wise and salutary uses ;—but comes as an effect
from its cause ; in the natural course of things ; by
permission of the Infinite in wisdom and goodness ;
and on a errand of mercy and kindness to the chil¬
dren of men, who, though wayward and sinful, are
yet loved and cared for of Heaven.
Yes, my friends, I trust it is with such views and
feelings that we have met together this day in the
house of God. It is a time, indeed, for deep and
solemn thought ; a time for humiliation and prayer,
for penitence and purposes of obedience ; but I hope
there is not one among us to whose heart it can give
abject fear. There is something animating to every
noble mind in the approach of danger ; and we have
assembled, with our fellow-citizens, not to bow our
heads like a bulrush, but to exalt our minds to the
task of doing and suffering whatever the finger of
Providence shall point to as our duty — of keeping
from the midst of us, if possible, the menacing evil,
or if it cannot ' be stayed from the people,' of meet¬
ing it as christian men should.
But how shall we best effect this high purpose of
our meeting ? By seeking, each for himself, as
did David of old, ' a place, that he may build an al¬
tar therein unto the Lord.' The true place every
7
one has in his own heart. Let us, with one accord,
set about erecting an altar there.
1. An altar of gratitude. Who that has a heart to
feel, must not cherish emotions of unutterable thank¬
fulness for the kindness of Providence to our city ?
Where on the wide earth is there another to be com¬
pared with it in point of cleanliness, health, com¬
fort, intelligence, morals, and most of those things
that minister to human happiness and improve¬
ment Surely, such gifts claim large returns ; let
them be made by us.
2. An altar of penitence. My hearers, no one
who looks around and within him, but must perceive
reasons for this. How many of us can boast of
not having often disobeyed the will of God as man¬
ifested alike in nature and in Scripture ? Who
has not more or less frequently violated the plain¬
ly discernible principles of his constitution and his
religion ? Who has not eaten too much, or drunken
too much, or indulged his passions too much, or in
some way or other done what tends to injure the
body or the soul ? Let each, on days like this, ex¬
amine himself, and wherein he has done wrong,
resolve that he will do so no more. It is vain to pray
that the angel's hand may be stayed, while we raise
our own hand to do violence to the laws of God's
creation within and around us. If we will not re¬
pent and reform with respect to what in and about
us is uncleanly, intemperate, or vicious in any re¬
gard, then let us expect disease, and anguish, and the
various ills that abused human nature is heir to.
3. An altar of faith. By this I mean confidence
or trust in God, in providence, in ourselves, and in
the efficacy of means. Are there any amongst us
of little faith ? To them I must say, you are pe¬
culiarly liable to the malady so much feared. Eve¬
ry one knows, or ought to know, the effect of doubt
and timidity, and apprehension, on the bodily func¬
tions. He is the safest, other things being equal,
whose mind is in good tone ; whose heart is at ease ;
whose spirits are buoyant and cheerful ; whose
thoughts and affections dwell with calm confidence
on a wise and kind Father in Heaven; and whose
belief in the efficacy of means is such as will lead
him to a prompt adoption of precautionary measures,
to a strict attention to premonitory symptoms, and
' to a faithful use of such remedies as providence shall
furnish and medical skill prescribe.
4. An altar of devotion. This is at all times a
duty and a privilege. It would seem especially so
in seasons of danger or suffering. I have great con¬
fidence in the efficacy of prayer both as a preventive
and a remedy of evil ; not indeed that it is with¬
in its province to occasion any violation of those
laws of cause and effect by which God governs the
world ; but that it will avail for good by virtue of
these laws — being itself a cause of an effect by di¬
vine appointment ; not that it will move the Deity
to any arbitrary change in those established princi- '
pies upon which the operations of the universe were
ordained from the beginning to proceed ; but that it
will subserve our interests by bringing us into con-
9
formity with those principles ; by enabling our pow¬
ers to act in harmony with each other, with nature's
laws, and with the designs of Providence ; by open¬
ing and enlarging our capacities for new and richer
communications from the fulness of God, who is
above and around us, ever ready to bestow on his
children whatever good they may, by their own
faithful endeavors, have rendered themselves able to
receive and disposed to use well. Yes, there is
great efficacy in prayer. It may not gain for us all
we desire ; but it will secure what we most need.
It may not bring God nearer to us ; but it will bring
us nearer to God. It may not alter his purposes ;
but it will alter our own. It may not change the
natural order of events, for our fancied accommoda¬
tion ; but it will change our habit of running coun¬
ter to them, for our real advantage. It may not re¬
pair the shattered frame, but it will heal the sick
soul. It may not take from the air without its nox¬
ious elements, but it will purify the spirit within
from its hurtful qualities. Out of its appropriate
sphere, prayer may not be effectual ; but within that
sphere, there is nothing so availing.
5. An altar of sincere and resolute intent to
conform by practical obedience to the laws of our
nature. These laws are from God, and we have no
reason to expect that they will be departed from to
suit the imagined convenience of individual trans¬
gressors. They are all essential to the well-
being of the whole ; we must not look for any in¬
fringement of them on behalf of any part. If one
2
10
will leap from a tower, by the law of gravitation
he will be dashed on the ground. If one will
eat and drink improper substances, or to excess, he
must look for disease. Would we be safe, therefore,
true wisdom bids us refrain from vice, from sin ; that
is, we must cease to violate the laws of our consti¬
tution — must conform in body and soul to the will
of the Creator, whether taught us by reason, ex-
%
perience, or revelation. Without this all the fasting
and praying, all the multitudinous forms of ceremo¬
ny in the world will avail us little. Yes, and be¬
lieve me, it is by this practical obedience that we
furnish the best proof of our piety ; it is by sacredly
observing the laws of our nature, physical, mental,
and moral, that we make the most acceptable ac¬
knowledgment of Divine Providence, and use the
surest means of obtaining for earth the blessing of
Heaven.
So then let us erect an altar to the Lord in each
of our hearts, — an altar of gratitude, of penitence,
of faith, of devotion, and of practical obedience to
the laws of God — and we are, under Him, above
the occasions of fear. It is true, for perfect confi¬
dence in our exemption from the disease now in
some degree apprehended, all this should have been
done long ago. But even at the present season, let
it be undertaken in good earnest by every one in this
community, and we shall have little reason for alarm.
Were it the inhabitants of some other cities whom it
' was now my duty to address, I know not that I
could speak in such terms of confidence. But here.
11
I thank God that I can, and that I ought to speak in
terms, not only of confidence, but of animation. I
dare not say, indeed, that we are free from infirmity
and guilt exposing us to physical evils ; that we have
so lived and acted as not to be liable to those mala¬
dies consequent on the abuse of God's gifts to his
children ; that there are nowhere amongst us materi¬
als for pestilence to work upon ; that many might not
be found who have so indulged in excesses of vari¬
ous kinds, as to require but little deterioration of
the element they breathe to make them speedy vic¬
tims of the cholera. But still, for one, I do not believe
that as a community we are greatly exposed. There
may be a few cases ; there probably will be ; but I can¬
not think there will be many. At least do I trust there
is no occasion for other than that salutary apprehen¬
sion which keeps vigilance awake and labor active to
dicover and remove the causes of disease. And I trust
so, from the encouraging circumstances in which
the inhabitants of our city are placed. I trust so
from our local situation, surrounded as we are by the
waters and breezes of the ocean. I trust so, from the
general cleanliness of our streets and habitations, and
from the marked sobriety and prevailing good mor¬
als of our population. I trust so, from that wisdom
to devise and promptness to carry into effect precau¬
tionary measures, which have reflected so much credit
on our city authorities. I trust so, from the known
skill, devotedness, and fidelity of the medical profes¬
sion, with which this metropolis is blessed. 1 trust
so, from that silent but heroic magnanimity with
12
which, as I believe, the great body of our people are
distinguished, and which, while it will prove a safe¬
guard against disease, will make them scorn to run
away from scenes where their presence might prove
of use to the sick and the dying.
Nevertheless, shall it not be as our hopes ; shall
not ours be the exemption of Jerusalem ; shall it
not now, as of old, be said to the destroying
angel, ' It is enough ; ' shall not ' the pestilence
be stayed from the people ? ' — then, in full confi¬
dence that we needed chastisement, and that God
knows what kind of it is at any time best for his
erring children, let us, one and all, endeavor to
meet the event with the ' altar to the Lord' still in
our hearts, so that we may suffer the Divine will
without a single wrong thought, feeling, word or
deed.
Shall it not be ' stayed from the people Let
us be alarmed by no imaginary dangers. Let us
not fancy the disease worse than it is. Let us have
no ear to receive and no tongue to spread exag¬
gerated reports. Let us place reliance only on
official statements, or on what falls under our own
observation. Let us fortify ourselves by every
means in our power against that unreasonable panic,
which is so apt to seize on the community at such
seasons. Believe me, we shall need calmness, self-
possession, magnanimity, and courage ; but these we
shall not have if we allow imagination to usurp the
throne of reason.
Shall it not be ♦ stayed from the people Let
13
not its first assault unman us, so as to prevent fur¬
ther effort. Rather let it increase our exertions to
mitigate the severity and check the progress of what
was inevitable. Remember, it is not the Koran but
tbe New Testament that we take for our guide ; it
is not Mohammedan Fate, but Christian Providence
under which we profess to live. Ill will it become
us, therefore, to give up all for lost, so soon as the
foe sets foot within our borders. No one may say
at any time that the connexion between means and
ends is dissolved. God has so ordered it, that in all
seasons of calamity there is hope of relief, while the
community has minds quick to devise, and hands
strong to execute measures suited to soften and limit
the evil it suffers.
Shall it not be ' stayed from the people ?' Let
none be found amongst us ignorant or cruel enough
to account individual suffering the measure of indi¬
vidual guilt. Were they sinners above all others upon
whom the tower of Siloam fell ? Our Saviour said,
nay ; and the disciple lacks mind or heart who in
like cases does not say so too. The present is not
an age of the world when epidemic disease may be
thought to select its victims by the rule of moral dis¬
tinctions. True, debility produced by intemperance
invites the cholera ; but so does debility occasioned
by meritorious effort. The vicious are indeed most
likely to be attacked by it ; but the virtuous are by
no means exempt from it. It has smitten the best
as well as the worst ; and may again. Let us be-
14
ware, therefore, how we imitate the example of them
who represent it as God's minister of exact retri¬
bution. Think not to determine a man's morals by
so uncertain a criterion. Nothing can be more pre¬
sumptuous in the attempt ; nothing more unjust in
the result. The hand of this angel of the Lord is
not guided by judicial discrimination. It is in the
future life, not the present, that men are to receive
full recompense for the deeds done in the body.
The retributory process is indeed begun here ; but
it is not, cannot be, here completed. The cholera
has its mission for good, whenever and wherever it
prevails ; for it is, indirectly at least, from the wise
and benevolent One ; but it is not among its purpo¬
ses to enable us to distinguish between saints and
sinners.
Shall it not be ' stayed from the people ?' Let
not false views of personal safety remove us from the
sphere of our true interests. Forget not, what
so many are prone to forget when maladies deemed
infectious prevail, that there is a moral as well asa
physical salvation to be secured. ; and that the for¬
mer is of infinitely greater moment than the latter.
Other and far higher obligations belong to man than
what bind him to shun bodily danger. This should
not, indeed, be wantonly braved ; but what is it, what
can it be, in any exigency, that relatives and friends
should plead it as a justifiable excuse for violating ~
the sacred obligations of consanguinity and love ? I
blush for humanity when I heàr and read of the
15
shameful desertions of the sick, that have been oc¬
casioned by vulgar fears about the contagiousness of
the cholera. Oh, it is enough to make the angels
weep to see those who profess to be bound together
by the closest ties of nature and affection, leaving
each other to the deprivations of solitude, or at best
to the casual, reluctant attentions of strangers, at the
very season when their presence and assiduities are
most needed. Be it, that self-seeurity is the first of
duties. Is this the way to effect it ? Self — what
is it but the spirit within, that whieh thinks and
feels, the immortal principle ? And does he secure
the interests of his true self, who saerifices moral to
physical good — who destroys the health of his soul
in attempts to preserve the health of his body ? No,
no. He only insures the well-being of self, who does
what is morally and religiously right ; who stands
manfully at his post of duty at whatever personal
risk. Let it be that he perishes there ; he must have
died some time, whithersoever he had fled. And then
it is only the death of the body ; his better part lives ;
and, unlike the selfish soul, it lives to enjoy the de¬
lightful recollections of generous fidelity. If, there¬
fore, the malady that threatens us comes, let not
one be found in this community so basely insensible
to the elaims of relations and friends, or so shamefully
blind to his own true interests, as from fear of conta¬
gion to abandon them in the hour of siekness to lone¬
liness or the purchased attendance of strangers.
Shall it not be ' stayed from the people ?' Let
it not make us forgetful of the poor and helpless.
16
Sad it is to think of their deprivations and sufferings
even in times of common sickness ; what then must
not be their condition when the cholera rages, and
the community becomes panic-struck, and every one
is absorbed by fears and efforts for himself and his
friends ? Oh, brethren, there have been scenes, —
God grant that such may never be witnessed by
us, — the picture of which, should I exhibit it
to your view, you would cover with your tears.
Often has the event that should have quick¬
ened and enlarged the current of charity, sealed
up its fountains. At the very time when a hun¬
dred fold more than usual ought to have been
felt and done for the poor and helpless, many
a heart, that used to luxuriate in sanctified benevo¬
lence, has grown hard and cold as ice, and many an
outstretched, full hand, that was wont to give liber-
ally, has been drawn back and clenched as in death.
My brethren, let such things admonish us. We are
not exempt from human infirmity ; we, too, may be
tempted to do violence to our better nature. We
must fortify ourselves against the temptation before¬
hand. Better put to hazard all our temporal good,
than, in the hour of trial, find ourselves impotent
for moral duty. The malady that menaces us, if it
come, will occasion a demand on charity's best life
and energy ; let the demand be fully answered.
Our public provisions are creditable to the commu¬
nity ; but there will be much for private sympathy
and munificence to do. Let not an individual
amongst us think to excuse himself from partici-
' 17
pating in the work. Remember that the poor and
infirm, not indeed for their sins, but for their lot,
will be most exposed, and must suffer most ; and
that wherever there is exposure and suffering, thither
the finger of Providence points the affluent and
strong to relieve and protect.
Shall it not be ' stayed from the people ?' Still
let us bless God as freely and fervently as ever.
He loves his children just as much when sickness
wastes, as when health invigorates them. The
one, as much as the other, is his appointment for
good ; both being alike the result of those laws,
which, though we call them natural, are flivine ;
and which have no end but the greatest possible
improvement and happiness. Let us so deem it.
Let not our religious sentiments lose anything of
their filial character under the severest discipline
of the infinitely wise and good Father. True
piety suffers meekly as well as enjoys gratefully.
So may it be with ours ; but it will not without
some effort. We are prone to take partial views of
the divine government. Superstition is apt to find
place within us, when what are called the judgments
of God are abroad in the land. Against this we
must guard. Let no one dream of an angry Deity,
pouring out vials of wrath on his creatures. Shame
on any who will make or tolerate such representa¬
tions. There is no such thing in reality, and there
should be none in thought or word. God is love,
and whoever does not so regard him, alike in adver¬
sity and prosperity, has the elements of religion yet
18 » .
to learn. God is love ; and therefore^ let what will
happen to us, under him it will issue in good.
If pestilence be our lot, be assured it has its benev¬
olent design ; for it comes not of chance, but of wise
laws established by the Creator. So let us view
its approach, and our piety, that choicest treasure
of our souls, will not be impaired, but improved ;
the trial once passed, we shall look back to it with
gratitude for its results.
SERMON
m
preached in the
UNITARIAN CHAPEL,
MONTREAL,
on
WEDNESDAY, 6th FEBRUARY, 1833.
being a day appointed for
*
PUBLIC THANKSGIVING
By His Excellency, the Governor-in-Chief, for deliverance
from the ravages of the Cholera.
By CHARLES A. FARLEY.
MONTREAL:
1833.
SERMON.
1 Thessalonians, iii. 9.
WHAT THANKS CAN WE RENDER TO GOD AGAIN ?"
The greatest Annual Festival of the Jewish nation is the
Passover. Its observance is an acknowledgment of their
gratitude to God, that when he delivered their ancestors from
their hard bondage to Pharaoh, by smiting the first-born of
the Egyptians with a plague, he directed his destroying angel
to pass over the houses of the Israelites, and leave them un¬
harmed. It has ever since been kept by them, ''as a me¬
morial " and " a feast to the Lord throughout their gen¬
erations." The celebration of this day, Christian brethren,
is in some respects analogous. The destroying angel has
visited these provinces ; and, while he has smitten with a
dreadful plague a large portion of the population, has passed
over many houses in mercy. All who come up to the tem¬
ple this day, acknowledge with gratitude, that he has passed
over them^ and that it is right to devote it to a particular re¬
membrance of God's goodness. We do not profess or im¬
ply by so doing, that gratitude is a thing for stated occasions,
to be paid at once by any unusual expression of thankfulness.
We should be grateful always ; but we are creatures who
4
Stand in need of forms, and stated times, and each other's
countenance and encouragement, to keep our affections fresh
and growing. We have a beautiful and aifecting custom in
our social circles, of setting apart particular days for the re¬
membrance of absent and valued friends. We devote them
to their memory, and by some marked ceremony, manifest
our peculiar regard. Our friends are always dear to us, and
it is for that very reason, and lest we may forget some traits
in their character, and not have so lively an affection for them
as we should, that we meet together and talk about them, and
dwell upon their goodness. Our hearts are made better by
it, and it increases the general benevolence of our character.
And it is so with this day. We think, that in addition to
our daily sense of God's goodness, it is meet to suspend our
usual pursuits., and give one day exclusively to a remem¬
brance of that fatherly love, which has shielded us from the
pestilence, that still walketh in darkness, and the destruction
that wasteth at noon-day. By coming into our churches, we
signify that it is not a mere social holiday ; but that we meet
as a Christian people, and as brethren of one family, to ask
what has been done for us, and what thanks we shall render
to God again.
It is but a few months since we were called upon to set
apart a day of humiliation, fasting, and prayer, that God would
be pleased to stay the pestilence that was then walking in
darkness, through Europe and Asia. Now, that the evil has
passed by us, and we are mercifully permitted by Almighty
God to join with the survivors of this calamity, in offering
our thanksgivings for his sparing mercy, both consistency and
piety suggest to us our subject; and I shall consider some of
. the circumstances which call for our gratitude, and the man¬
ner in which it should be expressed.
There has been something so dreadful in the character and
progress of this pestilence, that our thoughts have been almost
entirely taken from the kindness, with which it has been ac-
5
companied. It has thrown nation after nation into mourning-
For more than fourteen years, this invisible messenger of
death has been walking in darkness through the earth, and
slaying its thousands and tens of thousands. It has walked
too in silence, and at all hours, and has done its work with
but too sudden and certain rapidity. Its touch has thrown
down the strong and the active ; it has seized the infant in its
innocence ; it has stopped the young in all their frolic glee,
and their sanguine fearlessness. It has arrested" the man -of
business on the wharf, in the street, and in his compting-
room ; and the man of pleasure in his dissipation. It has
also violently interrupted the peaceful decKne of the aged.
Climate has had no perceptible influence. It has walked
through the sands of the desert. It has climbed the moun¬
tains, gone down into the depths of the valleys, and traversed
the wide ocean. The coldest and the hottest, the driest and
the dampest places, have all been visited. But is there no re¬
lief to the picture í Do we see nothing in it but desolation,
and have we nothing else to do, but to bewail its ravages
Not so. It follows the same law with the other afflictions of
this life, which are always attended with circumstances of
mercy, and in which we always see a preponderance of good.
I. The first circumstance for which we have reason to be
grateful, is the manner in which the disease has made its ad¬
vances in the world. It did not come upon mankind like an
earthquake, or the eruption of a volcano, and in a moment
swallow up its thousands, without allowing an instant's
preparation to guard against its attacks, and give the soul time
to collect itself before it meets its God. It began its march
slowly, and traversed, first a city, then a province, and then a
country. It first took away one or two, and then the num¬
ber of its victims gradually increased. -Christian nations have
been the last to be attacked ; and though the lives of the
heathen are equally precious in the sight of God, yet the re¬
sponsibility of Christians is far higher. They have received
6
more light ; they have had an express revelation from the
Son of God, by which to walk, and a heaven and an eternal
life continually before them. Of course, death is to them a
far more solemn thing, and they ought to bless God for every
warning he gives them, and every moment he spares them to
make preparation. Here, then, we have great reason to be
thankful. We have been saved the misery of having this
calamity burst upon us without notice. Before the finger of
God had touched us, this pestilence had been for years
raging in the old world, and we had reason to think it might
one day visit us. We had, therefore, time to set our house
in order and make some preparation for its reception ; to re¬
flect as Christians calmly upon this providence ; to meditate
upon the character of that Being, who in all his operations
consults our real happiness, and does "not willingly afflict
or grieve the children of men," and thus to fortify our minds
with religious trust, and be ready to bear whatever our
heavenly Father might inflict, whether upon our own persons,
or the persons of our friends. The human mind is so con¬
stituted by its benevolent Creator, that though when affliction
is sudden and unexpected, it sometimes loses its balance,
yet when it can have time to reflect, it assumes an entirely
different character, and clothes itself in the panoply of unsha¬
ken fortitude. Regarding this pestilence, therefore, merely
in a temporal light, we have great reason to be thankful. It
had not broken out in different countrjes, nor in every place
of the same country at the same moment; but, travelled slow¬
ly from place to place, and thus permitted all who chose, to
seek a purer atmosphere, and to avoid the sight of misery,
which they were unable, from their situation or their fears, to
alleviate. Meantime the character of the disease has been
studied, and many valuable lives saved, by salutary precau¬
tions, and by arresting the disease at an early stage. When,
therefore, it reached these provinces, though it came to many
unexpectedly, and to all more suddenly and fiercely than was
r
anticipated, yet the distress was probably nothing to what it
would have been, had it made its first appearance in the
world, in Canada- The people knew what precautions to
take, what remedies to use. They had time to collect them¬
selves, and make some provision for the sufferers, who other¬
wise might have been left to die alone, and by neglect.
II. Another circumstance demanding peculiar gratitude, is
the season of the year in which it came, and the comparatively
short duration of the disease in any one place. It appeared
among us in summer, and hence has greatly diminished the
suffering of the poor ; for, though business was interrupted,
and many were thrown out of employ, yet it was easier to
find employment then than at any other season of the year.
The facilities of travelling were greater, food and convenient
resting places were more easily procured, and clothing would
answer then, which would be entirely unfit for either the
spring or the winter. But suppose that this pestilence had
come in winter, and the poor had been left unassisted and
with large families, in which there were helpless children and
many infirm through age and sickness, to contend with hunger
and cold and nakedness—to wander, as they have been seen
to do, through our villages in large companies, shunned as
they passed, as the most dreaded objects of contagion, and
with reluctance permitted to occupy the most miserable shel¬
ter. It is impossible adequately to conceive of the wretched¬
ness they would have suffered, and especially the emigrants,
with which our cities have swarmed—many of whom came
over to this country, miserably provided with the most com¬
mon conveniences of life. Within the last year, nearly 50,000
emigrants have landed in Quebec. Many of these have al¬
ready had their hopes cruelly frustrated, and their purposes
broken off. They left the place of their birth, (and it was
still dear to them, though many of them fled from misery,)
and found a pestilence, which seemed to single them out for
its ravages, ^nd a grave iii^the stranger land : but, had this
â
pestilence broken out in winter, they must have been starved
and frozen by crowds, in the winter snows. Although the
emigrants arrive in a mild season, yet, being many of them
poor, a long time is required to procure a comfortable settle¬
ment. Large families are crowded together, scantily fed
and clothed—often breathing an impure atmosphere. During
the prevalence of the cholera, they were seen encamped on
the wharves, and in the open fields. In winter, this would
have been impracticable; and, coming as they do from a milder
climate, they must, under the most favorable circumstances,
suffer from the rigor of a Canadian winter. Even allowing
that they had remained in our cities, we know, that notwith¬
standing the provisions made by the benevolent, our poor al¬
ways suffer greatly in the winter ; but it is nothing to what
they would have suffered in the midst of a general panic.
III. Another cause for thankfulness is the evident discrim¬
ination, that has been made in the victims of this pestilence.
It seems to have followed the same law which we see every
day producing suffering ; the law, for instance, that man must
suffer the punishment of his imprudence and his sins. If a
man neglects the care of his health, through thoughtlessness
or wilful excess, he is punished by the loss of it. Now we
fully agree with the remark that has been made, that had
there not been intemperance in the world, there would not
have been this pestilence. It has taken away, indeed, some
individuals of the utmost purity of life, whose loss has been
severely felt in the community, and who were among its rich¬
est ornaments, and its richest blessings ; but these have been
very few, and of this number, some, perhaps, neglected those
precautions, which are required of all, under such circum¬
stances. Generally speaking, it has spared the virtuous, and
punished the vicious—sweeping away those whose lives were
burdens to themselves and to others.—The pestilence has
walked among the dissolute with fearful destruction. Almost
by a touch, it has destroyed those whose constitutions were
«
9
broken down by a life of sin. Now the moral effect which this
was evidently intended to produce ought to be great, and it is
these moral teachings for which we have most reason to be
thankful. It was evidently intended to operate as a check upon
the dissolute, and to show the madness of pursuing their
course of life. The usual order of things teaches this, it is
true. It always has been the case, that criminal excess is
followed by inevitable riiin; but then the usuak order of
things' is quiet and gradual r few men attend to it, and still
fewer are warned by it, till destruction comes upon them,
like an armed man, or a thief in the night. It is extremely
difficult to persuade persons who are forming bad habits, that
they are doing themselves harm. The'gradual decay of their
faculties, they do not perceive, and they attribute it to a
thousand other circumstances, besides the true one. When,
therefore, death approaches the intemperate man by degrees,
and faculty after faculty loses* its vitality, there is nothing
very alarming to the dying victim, or to him who is ready to
follow his example; for it steals upon him in the insidious form
of a slow consumption. Besides, when the consequences
come thus slowly, individuals are taken away, without its at¬
tracting any more attention than any other death. The ex¬
ample is not a public one; it is not seen or felt in all its real¬
ity. If it occurs iri high society, pains are taken to hush the
matter up, and keep it concealed. But in this calamity,
there can be no concealment. When the pestilence passes
by the houses of the temperate, the industrious, and pure,
and goes into the houses of the dissolute, and cuts down with
indiscriminate mercilessness, the young and old of both sexes,
and turns whole streets into lamentation and jnourning, then
the awful warning is heeded, and men cannot help seeing the
cause, and flying from the haunts of death and infamy.
More than this,^—there are men who have seldom been within
a church, are unable to read the Bible, or have scorned to
read it, whose Sundays have been spent at the card-table,
10
or the tavern, who have had no friend to warn them, or have
refused all warning ; and they would have gone on sö to their
graves, but for this scdemn preacher. Here are lessons they
can read—and must read. Here is a voice they can hear—
and must hear. Here are consequences which are demon¬
strated with irresistible conviction to their senses. There
are some beings who must be operated upon at first,-in this
gross way, and when fear has done its work, and the atten¬
tion is aroused, they may afterwards be induced to listen to
the language of love.
My friends, the punishment has been dreadful! but it is
not to be compared with the misery that is entailed upon
whole families by unchecked habits of intemperance. There
are those who every year have to eat the bread and drink
the cup of bitterness, owing to the horrible excesses of per¬
haps only one member of their household ; and it will he
an unspeakable blessing if this visitation gives a serious check
to the spread of intemperance.
Nor is the warning confined to the lowest and most disso¬
lute- This pestilence has respected neither wealth nor rank
—it has told the man of pleasure to give up his dissipation—
•it has told every man whose habits do not bring upon him the
scorn of the world, and are not disgusting by their excess,
^ yet are far from good, far from moderate, or decent, that
they are dangerous, and must be abandoned ; and when they
have slighted the still words of the Bible, the affectíonate ad¬
vice of friends, the addresses, of Temperance Societies, the
lessons of experience, and the instructions of the pulpit, they
perhaps have listened to the voice of this instructer. Its ad¬
monitions have gone with the voice of a trumpet through
every heart in the country, teaching the great lessons of self-
respect and the formation of good habits-
IV. There is another advantage resulting from this calam¬
ity. It has called out the compassionate feelings of the comr
munity, and done much to cherish the aíFections- It is well,
«
4
H
sometimes, that our worldly pursuits are interrupted. Their
tendency is to make us selfish and insensible to the finer
feelings of our nature.^—With many, the pursuits of trade,
which were commenced to get a reputable support for one's
self, or family, and to stand well with the community, grow
intó a love of accumulation, a love of money for its own sake,
or else to outvie our neighbors, or to live luxuriously ; and
even if it does not go so far as that, the every day pursuits
of business have a tendency to blunt the feelings and .render
us indifferent to their cultivation. But when a pestilence
like this comes among those whom we love, then the most
callous heart is moved ; the suffering's of the invalid, his grat¬
itude for the attentions shown bini, the ^Cry exercise of
these attentions, and the thousand trying circumstances of
the sick chamber, awaken the sensibilities of men, who
might otherwise have gone on through life regardful of no¬
thing but their own interests,—admiring benevolence; perhaps,
but never feeling nor practising it. Let me add, too, that
such a calamity brings before the eyes of the whole commu¬
nity the most shining examples' of Christian philanthropy,
and Christian endurance and resignation. The hollow pro¬
fessions of nominal Christians are now detected, their loud
talking, and boasting, and ostentatious zeal, are stripped of
their falsity, and their hearts are found not to be so tender,
nor their courage so great, nor their principles'so firm, as
they pretended. They are shaking with terror, or flying in
dismay. They are seen leaving the sick and the dying, to
whom before they had recommended religion as a security
against every thing ; but, ihey are the first to forget its pow¬
er and its consolations. We now learn that a man who has
not perhaps a correct speculative faith, may yet be a true dis¬
ciple of Jesus Christ.
Indulge me a moment longer. I have said nothing^ of our
deliverance from this pestilence. Its departure from so
many of our towns and cities, though a great cause for thank-
12
fulness, is, I cannot help thinking, among the least. If it
teaches us to live more devotedly to God, then we cannot be
«
too thankful; but if not, we had better have suffered even
more than we have, and profited by the lesson. The ques¬
tion comes home to us now, How are we to show our. thankful¬
ness ? The answer is, By the increased holiness of our lives.
Such a providence cannot be neglected with impunity.
There is nothing fortuitous in this calamity, no more so than
in any other. If sickness is really intended as a discipline of
the character, then if the invalid rises from his bed without
being a better man, he will be held more deeply responsible;
and if these provinces do not become better by this calamity,
then we only lay up for ourselves "wrath against the day
of wrath, and the revelation of the righteous judgment of
God." We all need these lessons. The best are apt, by
the regular return of God's blessings, to think little of the gift
of health, and the supply of our numberless wants. We are
apt, by the regular return of our stated seasons of worship, to
be formal and cold, and engage in them as mere matters of
course.. Every slight interruption of the health, every severe
illness, every opening grave, ought to speak to us, and we
ought to listen. But we do not listen and it will be well
if we listen now.
When we are smitten with disease, or trouble of any kind,
how earnestly we pray for deliverance, and what good reso-
lutionç we make ; but when the deliverance comes, we are
too apt to go on as before. We think of God when he af¬
flicts—we forget him when he blesses us. When our Saviour
was upon earth, men came to him with dreadful diseases, and
besought him to cure them, but the moment they were re¬
stored to health, they left him without even an acknowledg¬
ment. Of this we have a striking instance' in the chapter
which I read this morning, (Luke xvii. 11—19.) Leprosy
was one of the most horrible diseases that ever afflicted hu¬
man nature. It stole upon its victim very slowly.—The
r
13
color fled, the body became covered with scale's,, till at last
the limbs mortified, and fell apart. Among the Jews, this
disorder was regarded with peculiar abhorrence. By their
law, the leper was termed unclean. The unhappy suflerer
was forbidden all intercourse with his brethren ; he was ex¬
cluded from the worship of the temple and synagogue; he was
obliged to dwell apart from the abodes of men ; his very
touch was pollution, and if any approached him, he was
obliged to warn them, with the cry, unclean [ unclean!!
Ten of these men came to Jesus, and were instantly cured;
but no sooner were they restored, than they left their bene¬
factor without even an acknowledgment : at last, one, struck
perhaps with remorse, turned back and thanked him, " and
he was a Samaritan."
One would think it almost incredible,, that men, who were
thus relieved from such a dreadful disorder, should forget
even to thank their benefactor ; that they who were re¬
stored in a moment, and by a word, to perfect health, to the
embraces of their friends, the society of men, and the enjoy¬
ment of life, which was before hateful, should forget to
give glory to God." There is something most affecting in
our Saviour's question and answer. " Were there not ten
cleansed ; hut where are the nine ? there are not found, that
returned to give glory to God, save this stranger !"
But, my friends, these ñien were not wonderful exceptions
to their race. In all ages they have been seen. In this ad¬
vanced age of Christianity, there is ingratitude, if not so
striking, yet just as criminal, nay, even more so. There is
some apology for these men, which Christians of the present
day have not. The state of the world was then exceedingly
corrupt, the character of Jesus was not understood by any
perfectly, and his claims, as the Son of God, by few. Men
were believers in the powers of magic, and of evil spirits,
and they might have ascribed their cure to the Prince of De¬
mons. We have no such refuge. We profess to see the
.. »4
finger of God, in all our blessings and afflictions—and if so,
to slight the teachings of 'this pestilence, is to slight God
himself. We trust this will not be the case with these prov¬
inces. In very few places has this pestilence raged with
more severity ; and it will be unnatural as well as unchristian,
if the people give themselves up as eagerly as ever to world-
liness and dissipation.
Christian brethren—this day of thanksgiving should be one
of sober joy. It can hardly help exciting the most serious
reflections. This city has but just put on sackcloth for this
heavy affliction.—Within a short distance from us are the
crowded and newly-made graves of the sufierers. We are
surrounded by those whose tears are yet flowing for the loss
of their friends. There are mothers, weeping for their chil¬
dren, and will not be comforted because they are not. There
are children, who are left without father or mother. There
are those wlio, like David, are lamenting the loss of friends
whom they loved as their own souls ; and many are standing
apart in silence^ the solitary survivors of perhaps a large fam¬
ily. This is not the time for " the voice of singing men,
and singing women.." Let us keep the day holy unto the
Lord. While the heart of some swells with a richer and a
larger love, at the reflection that this calamity.has not touch¬
ed one of their glad circle, let them remember with sympa¬
thy, that they are in the immediate neighborhood of many an
aching bosom—that there are hearts too heavy to rejoice
with them, and that many a vacant seat is seen this day at the
family table. Let us be sober: let us live less for earth,
and more for heaven, that we may be ready at any moment
to give up our account with joy and not with grief.—Let us
lift up our hearts in gratitude to God, who has given us " the
oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the
spirit of heaviness."
OOD'S CHARGE UNTO ISRAEL.
A
SERMON
PBEACHED BEFORE
HIS HONOR SAMUEL T. ARMSTRONG,
LIEUTENANT GOVERNOR,
THE HONORABLE COUNCIL,
AMD
THE LEGISLATURE OF MASSACHUSETTS,
AT THE
ANNUAL ELEC TION,
ON WEDNESDAY, JANUARY, 6, 1836.
BY ANDREW BIGELOW,
Pastor of the First Cougregatiooal Church in Taunton« |
I
iJoston:
DDTTOM AND WEMTWORTH, PRINTERS TO THE STATE.
1836
«
é
%
©ommoníDealtí oí íHassacJusetts.
house of representatives, jan. f, 1836.
Ordered, That Messrs. Leonard of Norlon, Walker of Taunton; and Fuller
of Newton, be a Committee to wait on the Rev. Andrew Bigelow, and present
him the thanks of this House, for his very interesting and appropriate discourse, de¬
livered yesterday before the Legislature, and request a copy for the press.
L. S. GUSHING; Clerk.
1
\
I
4
The length of the ensuing disconrse obliged
considerable portions of it at the time delivery,
prepared for the pulpit and occasion.
the omission or abridgement of
It is now presented as originally
SERMON.
SPEAK UNTO THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL, THAT THEY GO FOR¬
WARD."
Exodus, 14th Charter, I5th Verse.
It was a dark hour for Israel, when the charge,
now rehearsed, was given by the voice of Israel's
God to the leader of the chosen tribes ; a still dark¬
er hour, when the order it conveyed was proclaimed
in the hearing of the awe-struck host, and their
marshalled bands prepared to resume their march.
Pilgrims to a distant land, advanced but a few
stages on their toilsome route, not yet emancipated
from the power, and still within the dominions of a
fierce and cruel monarch, they were already brought
into a situation of great perplexity and hazard.
Encamped in a desert place, entangled mid rocky
defiles,—the sea in front,—bleak mountains around,
—a hostile force urged on by a ruthless chief press¬
ing upon their rear,—the crisis was fearful, — the
fate of Israel appeared to be inevitably sealed.
6
To stay, was to perish. To resist, was madness.
To advance, was seemingly but to plunge into a
watery grave. At this juncture, the mandate of
God as recorded in the text, thundered through the
camp of Israel. " The Lord said unto Moses,
Speak unto the children of Israel, that they go
forward! " And forward they moved. He, the
herald who transmitted the divine command,— with
unshrinking reliance on the succouring arm of God,
—himself led the terror-stricken van. Arrived at
the brink of the intercepting flood, he stretched
forth his rod, — the mysterious wand which oft had
waved in dreadful power over Egypt,— and the sea
was cleft in tw^ain, opening a path for the amazed
and rejoicing tribes, through crystal walls miracu¬
lously heaped on either hand. The opposite bank,
that friendly longed-for shore, was reached in safe¬
ty. The sea then regained its ancient channel,
cngulphing at the same time with terrific doom, the
pursuing host,—burying the pride and flower of
Egypt, its chariots and horsemen, its captains and
V arriors, its nobles and menials, prince, page and
V'ssals beneath its wild and vengeful billows.
It was a dark hour for that little company of pious
and dauntless spirits, — exiles from the land of their
forefathers, suflerers for conscience sake, men
"persecuted but not forsaken, perplexed yet not
in despair,"—when they gathered upon the quay
of Delft, on the memorable morn of the 22d of
July, 1620, surrounding their spiritual chief, the
7
pâtrîarchal Robinson, and knelt down and implored
of God, that He would grant "aright way for
themselves and their little ones, and all their
substance,"* on their voyage to that far-off land,
here in this Western hemisphere, whither they
were hound. Yes, dark was the hour when with
streaming eyes and bursting hearts, that little
group joined in the last prayer they were destined
to listen to from the lips of their venerable pastor
and guide ;—when they clung around the good
man's knees, and took their parting look, and ex¬
changed a fond, final embrace ;—when turning from
their pleasant homes though in a strange land, they
embarked in quest of a refuge on these then house¬
less, savage shores,—when so touching was the
scene that even the bosoms of the coldest observers
heaved in sympathy, and tears coursed down the
cheeks of men " albeit of no melting mood.'' But a
call as from heaven summoned them away. They
felt and obeyed the holy impulse. And He who
holdeth the waters in the hollow of his hand, and
who ruleth the winds and the seas, provided for
them a safe pathway across the Atlantic deep ; and
hither they came and laid the foundations of an
empire, which so long as it shall stand and flourish,
will abide a monument of their faith and fortitude,
their heroism and their renown.
It was a dark hour when in 1675 the flame of a
* Ezra viii. 21,—the text from which their beloved Pastor^ Robinson, preached
a parting discourse on the melancholy occasion.
8
most barbarous Indian war was lighted on our soil ;
when the genius of a fierce and crafty savage had
/
succeeded in combining the most fearful elements of
destruction ever let loose on the habitations of civil¬
ized man ; when the cloud which had been gathering
in blackness, and hung lowering over the land, at
length burst with appalling violence ; and the de¬
mon of havoc and slaughter sped on the furious
blast ; and amid savage yells, and victim groans,
and the hideous glare of blazing villages flashing
through our vallies, and reflected from hill to hill,
the work of threatened extermination seemed hasten¬
ing to its certain and awful consummation. But did
our fathers quail at the peril? Did they "shake
and become as dead men"? No, they girded them¬
selves to deeds of desperate resistance. They rallied
with intrepid firmness " to play the men" in defence
of their homes, their fields and their altars ; and
they moved where danger was greatest, and where
shafts flew thickest. For God spake and said unto
them. Go forward! And lifting their banners in the
dread name of Israel's God, they struggled, prevailed
and vanquished.
» It was a dark hour when, a century still later,
our nearer ancestors, then suffering under oppres¬
sion and goaded by wrongs, roused themselves in a
burst of indignant patriotism to cast ofl" the yoke of
a grievous foreign tyranny,—when they appealed for
justice and cried for succor to the God of Battles,
and with means as feeble as the Hebrew stripling's,
9
went forth to their stern encounter with a giant
adversary. That conflict was resolutely waged.
Their march was onward, " from conquering to
conquer." They were made strong in the Lord,
and by the power of His might. For God was with
them ; and He—their defender—was invincible.
The time would fail me to count up all the dark
hours, contrasted with the bright passages and aus¬
picious deliverances, which crowd our country's
annals; to trace the steps of our national march
from feebleness to power, from lowliness to gran¬
deur ; to exhibit the fruits of our fathers' courage,
constancy, and trust in God ; to point out the won¬
drous energy of their faith crowned, as it was, by
most brilliant and surprising issues ; to show how a
benignant Providence has oft proved better than our
fears,—turning our reverses into triumphs, our mis¬
chances into blessings, and "from seeming evil, ever
educing good."
Brought as we are to the opening of another year,
and assembled at the chosen era for the re-organi¬
zation of the civil authorities of the government of
our favored Commonwealth, as we pause to pay our
grateful homage to that Almighty Power whose guar¬
dian hand has hitherto led and sustained us, it is nat¬
ural to glance at the past, in connection with the
present and the anticipated future, and to ponder upon
our joint privileges, solicitudes and obligations. We
have completed another stage of our civil progress.
10
We have come to Elim,*—pleasant for its salubrious
fountains, its verdant pastures and its shady palms.
But it is only for temporary refreshment and repose,
— to cheer our hearts with the goodly scene around
us ; and to reanimate our zeal and fortify our reso¬
lution for the toils and conflicts incident to our future
appointed career. We are then to strike our tents,
and set forward our standards, and press to the high
destinies which allure us from afar.
Let me have your indulgence then as I proceed
to remark on a few of our combined privileges as
citizens—on some qualifying circumstances in our
otherwise bright and enviable lot—on the duties
imposed by the juncture—and on the means and
motives for obviating existing dangers, and perpet¬
uating the blessings we enjoy.
I. Let us survey a few of our privileges. The
blessings we possess, are mainly the accumulated
treasures, or the rich products of the disposing agen¬
cies, of by-gone generations. We owe them, under
God, to the wisdom, ñrmness and piety of the men
of clear heads, stout hearts, and high-souled pur¬
poses, who planted the germs of empire upon our
shores: We dwell on a soil redeemed by their valor
from savage foes, and reclaimed by their patient
industry from a state of rudeness to fertility, from a
wilderness to "a fruitful field."
We enjoy by transmission the heritage of Liberty.
That precious boon, denied to many nations and
Exodus XV. 27.
11
but" partially possessed and fiercely strove for by
others, is here the immunity of all. Whilst, in
divers regions, the will of one, or the tyranny of a
few, holds in slavish subjection the prostrate multi¬
tude ; whilst there the people are degraded to a
populace, and the populace sunk to the character
and condition of a mob ; whilst the great mass of
mankind are counted as scarce endued with the
attributes of humanity, or but just supplied with so
much intelligence as to render them mechanically
more serviceable to their proud oppressors,—are
treated as drudges and tools born to contribute to
the convenience or pleasure, the luxury, dignity and
pomp of the haughty ones who trample them down ;
—^here the poorest citizen is recognised in his just
relations. He stands up every inch a man. He is
placed on an equality of footing, in personal rights,
with the most prosperous and opulent. Station can
give no prerogative to crush, or to browbeat. The
poor man's hut is his castle,—more strongly guarded
from spoil or aggression, than feudal fortress in the
iron age of Gothic barbarism. The avenues of pre¬
ferment, the seats of power, the halls of legislation,
civic honors, official distinctions, are open to the
meritorious of every class. Useful arts, gainful traf¬
fic, the rewards of industry invite the competition of
all ; and every man, pursuing the business of an
honest calling, may " sit under his own vine and fig
tree, having none to molest or to make him afraid."
But Liberty, sound Liberty, is not licentiousness.
12
The broadest charter of freedom can never give
exemption from all restraints. A man, whether
high or loWj rich or poor, is not privileged to do that
which is alone right in his own eyes,—to pursue
selfish and sinister aims, where they interfere with
the just claims or the absolute immunities of others.
The moment he enters into, or finds himself incor¬
porated within the social state, he has to relinquish
some personal and natural rights both for the com¬
mon interest, and in consideration of greater com¬
pensating advantages to himself. Paradoxical as it
may seem, the first step to the enjoyment of rational
liberty, is the abridgement of a certáin measure of
personal freedom. A citizen must sacrifice a por¬
tion of his original rights, or make them over (so to
speak) to the custody of the community at large,
His will, in many particulars, must be subordinate
to, or regulated by, the will of the public. But, in
return, he enjoys its protection for rights reserved,
as well as others acquired by the implied exchange.
Obedience is the price of such protectiort ; and the
power of a state—the united force of the individuals
composing it—is pledged, by parity, to make good
that protection to the humblest of its citizens, stipu¬
lating life, property, and numerous domestic and
%
social privileges.
Hence arises the necessity of law—a frame of
government—a structure of civil polity,—all skilfully
arranged and wisely administered to secure the pri¬
vate interests of individuals, and to subserve the
13
salutary ends of the general union. Hence, too,
the duty and indispensableness of legislation. Codes
of jurisprudence are a natural consequence. And
heads there must be to plan, and hands to execute ;
rulers to enact, and a people disposed for submis¬
sion. In a populous community—one highly ad¬
vanced and civilized—such arrangements are matters
f
of great delicacy and moment. They require from
rulers—besides a careful garnering of the lessons of
experience,—an enlightened observation, the faculty
of prospective adaptation, keen, patient and profound
research ; and withal an honesty of purpose, and
fearless, single-eyed probity. Laws thus framed are
an inestimable dowry to a land. They cannot be
too highly prized, nor too sacredly guarded. And
the memory of their contrivers should be enshrined
in the grateful hearts of the people whom they
benefit.
Such are the accessory distinctions of our fortune.
For, besides the heritage of Liberty, we have the
heritage of Law. Our civil jurisprudence is the
digest of the wisdom of ages. Our constitutions of
government transcend the vaunted models of other
and elder times. Our statute-books are the fruits of
a legislation illustrated by the lights of the past,
but shaped and improved according to the wants, cir¬
cumstances and perceptions of the present. Laws,
in fine, we have providing for the social order, the
harmony and well-being of those collectively on
whom they operate ; laws which shield the meanest
2
14
and awe the mightiest, and spread the shelter of a
common defence over the poor man's cabin and the
rich man's mansion.
Defects in theory, or faults of detail, may be
detected in these institutions ; but a novice may spy
flaws in the noblest monuments of human skill and
genius ; and fools may blame what wise men cannot
always remedy. It is the part of legislation to en¬
deavor to rectify what is palpably amiss ; to answer
every reasonable demand on its rightful interposi¬
tion ; and to keep pace with the progress of society
by correspondent improvements in its statutory pro¬
visions. The best political machinery is liable to
injury and disorders. It may be weakened by using,
or acquire a rust from age. Its weights may run
down, some spring may give way, a wheel may be
broken, or thrown from the grapple of the master-
regulator. Our civil fathers are the artiflcers to
whom we must look for the requisite repairs. Theirs
is the task,—and at times a difficult and no enviable
one,—to replace the unsound, to strengthen what is
weak, and haply to wind up and re-adjust the curi¬
ous mechanism. More or less of this duty is annu¬
ally necessary. But there is danger of over-much
doing. Innovations may not be improvements; nor
are substitutes always amendments. '
There was much of good sense in the language of
the Barons of England, when rebuking the arbitrary
and capricious edicts of a tyrant, they said, "We
are opposed to changing the laws of the Realm.'*
15
And much also of shrewdness in the reply of the
mercantile deputation of Bordeaux to Louis XIV.
when asked what should be done to advance their
interests'? "Sire," was their answer, "Let us
alone." Every one knows that there is such a thing
as encumbering with help. Where this may be sus¬
pected in questions of legislation, the wisest course
obviously is, to refrain from so thankless an office.
Better assuredly it is, to do nothing, than work
mischief ; better to bear the incidental ill, than
endanger the abounding good ; better to acquiesce
in a mixed benefit, than pass from a partial bad to a
possible worse. As our history knows of no fabu¬
lous age, so our ordinances of government date back
to no mean nor obscure origin. Beginning with the
memorable compact on board the May Flower, when
the emigrant colonists deliberately combined into
*'a civil body politic," and solemnly bound them¬
selves to yield "all due subjection to such just and
equal laws, acts, offices and constitutions" as should
from time to time be enacted, and be "thought most
meet and convenient" for the general good,—com¬
mencing with that noble instrument as the corner¬
stone of our civil edifice,—the fabric has risen and
expanded, growing with the wants, and modified by
the circumstances of succeeding times, till attaining
its present fair and majestic proportions. If, aside
from occasional repairs, any alterations be thought
needful in so venerable a pile, prudence would sug¬
gest that they be made in accordance with the rule
16
of established symmetry. If an enlargement of the
dimensions be called for, let it be done by the
simple method of annexations, instead of the bolder
process of entire re-construction on another ground-
plan and model.
I cannot leave this topic without adverting to a
feature of unfairness charged upon our systems of
legislation. Our laws are said to operate unequally.
A class of political seers has risen up in our times,
who pretend to have spied out this blemish ; though
they leave unexplained how it chanced to escape the
penetration of antecedent examiners. Their notable
discovery purports to be this : That our laws are
chiefly contrivances for the benefit of the rich, to
the aggravated grievance and damage of the poor;
that they are the oflspring of a cruel conspiracy to
exalt the one, and depress the other ; that they are
the ministers of a stern and jealous monopoly, per¬
versely acting upon the maxim, " that whosoever
hath to him shall be given, and whosoever hath not,
from him shall be taken away even that which he
hath,"
But who are the rich? Men sprung from the
mixed multitude—thrown up from the indiscriminate
classes of society. Every walk of life leads natu¬
rally on, or it opens into innumerable by-paths,
which conduct to ease, or competence, or affluence.
Industry, intelligence, frugality and uprightness are
ever sure of a fair recompense. Legislation influ¬
ences w^ealth—not wealth, legislation. It is the
17
object of the former to aid the general acquisition of
property,—not, of course, by narrowing and shutting
np, but digging open and multiplying its springs for
t
the accommodation of all. Such policy is dictated
by sound interest, conformably to the homely but
common-sense adage, that every man, to be a good
citizen, must have a stake in the hedge. A needy and
starving population, on the other hand, having no¬
thing to lose, would never fear the consequences of
public turmoils and insurrections.
But legislation, be it observed, whilst seeking to
increase the means of general wealth, h^s taken
care to provide that the fortunate possessors, in
proportion to the amount of their acquisitions, shall
bear their part in the public burdens of taxation for
the common welfare and defence. Laws, you may
say, protect the rich. We grant it ; but the secu¬
rity is just that which they extend to the private
possessions of all. So far, in fact, from their oper¬
ating exclusively to roll up and concentrate capital
in the hands of a few, they have done all they can
to ensure its frequent change and dispersion. The
prohibition, for example, of entails and rights of pri¬
mogeniture, is alone enough to preclude the possi¬
bility of long continued accumulations of fortune in
any family lines. All is in a state of ceaseless
fluctuation. And hence, as we often ñnd, the rich
man or the flourishing household of to-day, may be
sunk into impoverishment and obscurity on the mor¬
row ; and the meanest poor, or their children in
18
another generation, may mount on the swel'ing
wave of prosperity, to as enviable a height of afflu¬
ence and distinction, as the proudest and most
favored of their cotemporaries.
Never was there a more senseless clamor than
this cry of partial legislation ;—never a more pre¬
posterous accusation than such alleged and success¬
ful combination of the rich against the poor. The
rich are confessedly a minority, and the more cdiet!S
and overgrown rich constitute a very small minority.
Under a government whose fundamental maxim is,
that the will of the majority shall bear rule, and
where the men who represent that majority are ever
shifting and dependent on the popular suffrage,,
how absurd to suppose that, in action, so plain a
theoretic principle could be reversed ! Where, still
more, a vigilant public scrutiny is posted at every
avenue of place and power, watching w ith keen and
lidless eyes each official act of mal-administration,—
what folly to charge on a fractional part of society,-
such a controuling influence as shall outweigh the
acknowledged and far mightier powers of numbers!
Is that influence won by bribery? What a reflec¬
tion on the virtue of a people! Is it accomplished
by artifice? What an insult on their understand¬
ings ! Has it been suffered to creep stealthily, of
long time, into our schemes of legislation,—to twine
its parasitical fibres and tendrils around the goodly
vine planted by our sage ancestors, and under whose ^
shadow we have tasted the sweets of peace and
i
19
prosperousness? Oh, what a libel on the patriotism
of those appointed to watch and guard that sacred
stem, and to cherish the precious fruits which it has
yielded in our common rights and liberties! The
man who indulges, on whatever ostensible gtouncls,
in imputations of this sort, displays more of the qual¬
ities of self-conceit and consummate etfrontery, than
shrewdness of intellect or integrity of heart. He
slanders the living, and he vilifies the dead. Re¬
spect for the one, and veneration for the other, can
have no place in his bosom. It is hazarding little to
say of men of this stamp, that they pay a poor , com¬
pliment to the virtue and good sense of the people
whom they seek to cajole. But—much or little^—I
will venture to pronounce that the very public whose
honest though sometimes misguided prejudices they
would bend to their selfish purposes, will send back
an indignant voice to rebuke their hollow preten¬
sions, and silence or drown their worse than silly—
their atrocious accusations.
The most conclusive evidence of the efficacy of
our frame of laws, is the gladsome picture of content
and prosperousness spread abroad over the commu¬
nity:—the means of social comfort so liberally pro¬
vided and dispensed; the rapid accumulation and
unmolested security of the gains of honest toil and
enterprise ; the many institutions, so blest and
blessing in their character and infiuence, nourished
into being by the self-same spirit which produced
our combined system of law and government ; the
20
multiíbrm associations for the relief of human need
and suffering, whether moral or physical, teeming
on every hand; innumerable instrumentalities for
the encouragement of the diversified " arts which
make for peace;" establishments opened up for the
dissemination of knowledge, the promotion of sci¬
ence, the dispersion of the blessings of religion ; our
seminaries and lyceums, our schools and colleges,
our churches and temples;-—Oh, these are the living
witnesses—these the clustering fruits of the wisdom,
piety and patriotism of our fathers, which distil the
richest fragrance on their memory, and shed a grace
and glory over New England. What though we
boast no vine-clad, laughing shores, like the sunny
regions of poetic song—some fairy "land of the rose
and the myrtle," where nature wantons in exhaust-
less fertility, and pours forth her ripened stores
disdainful of the aid of man? Ours is a soil which
kindly repays the toils of culture ; and human skill
and painstaking exertion have developed no niggard
resources; and beauty and luxuriance have been
made to deck our rugged hills ; and we have drawn
"from the abundance of the seas, and the treasures
hid in the sands." What though we boast no clas¬
sic fields, no long-drawn line of storied generations,
no pomp of heraldry nor race of kings? We can
look back with pride on an honored lineage, deduced
from a pious ancestry, and ennobled by Pilgrim blood.
We can turn to a history brief but crowded, bright¬
ened with deeds of lofty heroism and virtues of pure
21
and spotless excellence. We can point to a shining
roll of names, themselves the titles of a deathless
renown, which children's children will revere and
blazon, and
"Set them down with gold on lasting pillars."
And if we look abroad and take a wider survey,
if we contemplate the mighty field of our Country's
vigorous and successful enterprise, we behold a scené
of surpassing magnificence ind grandeur :—A peo¬
ple of yesterday, sprung from a feeble handful, and
already grown to a great multitude—a nation of fif¬
teen millions ; the tide of population rapidly sweep¬
ing to the farthest west,, destined ere long to cover a
continent, its foremost wave even now touching the
margin of the Pacific ; the march of improvement
corresponding with this unparalleled progression of
the living mass ; the triumphs of genius and art
multiplying as by enchantment on every side ; new
springs of wealth bursting forth like fountains among
4
all our valleys and hills ; commerce gathering the
offerings of fairest and richest climes ; our ports
stretching out their colossal arms into the deep, to
welcome the fleets and embosom the tribute of a
thousand foreign shores ; ourstarry banner displayed
with honor—alike under the burning line, along the
''coral strand" of India, among the glaciers of the
north, and the spicy isles of the east ; our gallant
■eagle towering on strong pinion—at times, per¬
chance, stooping its flight in placid skies,—but anon
22
careering upon the stormy blast, or soaring to a
bolder, grander elevation.—Surveying these splen¬
did results of the causes we have indicated, our
hearts may naturally beat high, with a throb of
patriotic exultation. But the emotion is tinged with
a shade of sadness. We may rejoice indeed—grate¬
fully rejoice. But can we refrain from trembling ?
»
Can we forget that proportionate to our ascendancy
in the pride of privilege and advantage, will be the
depth of our degradation and fall, if we prove false
to our duties as citizens—false to those principles
which have borne us onward and upward to our
present height of national felicity and aggrandize¬
ment ?
II. We are led to consider some qualifying cir¬
cumstances in our otherwise bright and enviable
condition.
With all that is exhilerating in the features of the
times, there are—it cannot be disguised—signs
which are discouraging. It is v ith nations as with
individuals, that prosperity, though ardently cov¬
eted, is often perverted into the means of harm. It
is the parent of vice ; and developes, even where it
does not engender, many germs of mischief. In the
long festival of peace which has smiled upon us, the
very sunshine of our fortunes has hatched out a per¬
nicious brood of evils. The political atmosphere is
becoming charged with noxious miasmata, which
threaten grievous distempers to society. The pub-
23
lie mînd—ever craving of excitement—in the ab¬
sence of foreign disturbing causes, yields with morbid
appetence to others of a domestic nature. Party
animosity is rife. Religious feuds are fanned to
exasperation. Political controversies are waged
with increasing keenness and asperity. Schemes
of selfish and unprincipled ambition are beginning
to be openly avowed and shamelessly prosecuted.
Principles, specious in theory but impracticable
in operation, we see zealously propagated by heat¬
ed and misguiding visionaries; a spirit of dark and
sullen discontent with the established order of
things plotting measures at war with our dearest
institutions, and threatening if triumphant to up¬
heave their old foundations, to reduce government
to anarchy and society to its original chaos ; a grow¬
ing impatience in the minds of others who yet would
recoil from the latter extreme, manifested neverthe¬
less in their ill-disguised aversion, and sometimes
downright uncalculating resistance to those just and
salutary restraints of law, without which no wise nor
well regulated freedom could possibly exist ; a
scornful indifference exhibited during outbursts of
popular ferment, (alas, too frequent in these times!)
to the dull delays of judicial redress,—that fiery
impetuosity to execute justice, whereby justice her¬
self has indeed been all but summarily executed—cvit
down by parricidal blows inflicted by men whose
rights and liberties, in common with all classes of
citizens, are alone safe when under her tutelary aegis.
24
I might speak of the sectional irritations and en¬
mities so unhappily prevalent of late—and these
busily fomented with the certain consequence of
widening schisms which, unless early healed, must
result in the dissolution of our proud confederacy.
We behold the South fiercely arrayed against the
North, jealous not merely of the commercial ascen¬
dancy and enriching industry of the latter, but spe¬
cially so of that most intrusive interference by a class
of our citizens—naturally chargeable upon all—in
certain domestic institutions which the South holds
to be matters of its own exclusive concern, and
vitally essential to its well-being and its interests.
We behold the West, in its lust of aggrandizement,
disdainful of the plainest principles of justice, and
eager to lay a rapacious hand on the queenly terri¬
torial domain,—the common heritage of us all.
States we have seen—once leagued in closest fel¬
lowship, and which moved shoulder to shoulder in
the glorious march of the Revolution—now alienated
as though baptised with " the waters of strife;"—
the Union openly assailed ;—the national compact
with the solemn pledges it enshrines, denounced or
scoffed at;—an Ishmaelitish temper springing uoin
the bosoms of our twice-twelve tribes, the hand of
each being turned against a brother's, and brother's
against all ;—our glorious alliance of kindred states
fast verging to a separation, breaking into jarring
and discordant fragments,—their masses momenta¬
rily liable to be driven from their ancient holds
25
tossed to and fro on the angry sea of civil commo¬
tion—jostling and crashing like hostile fleets or a
convoy in a storm.
If we look further, we are presented with another
catalogue of evils. We see luxury, the fatal bane
of all republics, spreading its infection and eating as
a gangrene into the vitals of the state :—Intemper¬
ance, insatiate monster, still rioting in the land, and
claiming new hecatombs to swell the mighty heap
of victim inebriates already offered in the horrid
sacrifice ;—habits of extravagance growing apace,
confined to no one class of society—nourished by
false estimates of things, and exercised on objects of
fond and foolish desire,—tastes often outstripping
the means of supply, and bringing distress into fam¬
ilies, embarrassments in business, and a fatal blight
on men's fortunes and worldly expectations.
Every man is emulous to overtop his fellows.
Every grade of life down to the poorest and hum¬
blest, is pressing upon the skirts, and striving for an
equality—perhaps to something more, on the score
of wealth and privilege—with that next above.
Expenditures are suited not to the standard of one's
means, nor yet of one's rational wants,—but the
measure of other men's disbursements. Difference
in the length of purse by no means produces always
a proportionate difference in the outgoes. To rem¬
edy the inconveniences so surely to follow,—even
where the darker feelings of envy and sullen ill-will
may not be indulged,—a passion for wealth is inordi-
3
26
nately cherished. A man is in haste to grow ricB,
He hears of sudden and brilliant acquisitions of prop¬
erty, and covets like fortunes for himself. Small
gains no longer content him. Frugality, or a wise
and prudent thrift, he unhappily despises. He era-
barks capital, pawns credit, and in a luckless hour
launches forth on the sea of speculation. All is
put to hazard. He is afloat on a treacherous ele¬
ment where for one chance of making a prosperous
venture, he is exposed to fearful odds. High-blown
in hope and confidence, he sports awhile "like wan¬
ton boys in summer seas ; " but soon the sky dark¬
ens—a tempest lowers—the deep heaves and swells
—the port is far distant—his canvass flutters to the
rising breeze—he skims awhile along the curling
waves—but a fiercer blast comes rushing on—sud¬
denly it falls, and whelms his bark, his hopes, his
all.
This avidity for riches, with the hazards involved
in the desperate chase, is too sadly one of the beset¬
ting sins of the times. In the eager competition,
men are found to forsake the paths of prudence and
safety, to sacrifice ease, comfort and social happi¬
ness, and, not seldom, to set at nought the obligations
of truth, honor and uprightness. Our fathers were
wont to make sumptuary regulations for the repres¬
sion of a taste for extravagance. We plumed our¬
selves in advancing further, when we banished by
penal statutes many public enticements to dissipa¬
tion before tolerated and countenanced. Much was
27
thought to be gained when laws were passed for the
suppression of games of chance, together with the
pestilent establishments which specially patronized
them. Many an old "rookery" was broken up, and
many a kindred haunt of open vice shared a similar
fate. Something more of good was thought to be
effected when lotteries were interdicted, and the
demoralizing traffic was fordidden which they en¬
couraged and invited. And we rejoiced in witness¬
ing these and similar measures of legislation sus¬
tained, as was believed, by the force of sound public
sentiment. But have we not reason to fear that we
calculated too fast,? That the evil was only—or
chiefly—driven in, not expelled? That the foul
humors have become, from whatever cause, more
0
widely—if more latently—diffused in the great body
of the community? Or rather, that having festered
iwhile unseen, they have begun at last to reappear
ind effloresce on the surface of society? To what
else can we ascribe the popular mania for bold and
"ash speculations,—the jobbing and chaffering, trade
and barter in land stock, and fancy stock, and scrip
of all stamps and names,—that spirit of reckless
adventurousness—nay worse, of downright gambling,
which pushes at the most desperate contingencies—
watching the turn of a wheel where prizes are few
and blanks are many,—peradventure staking prop¬
erty, credit, prospects, every thing, on the fling of a
single die in the game of moneyed speculations?
Again; a ruffian spirit has broken forth, subver-
28
sive of the vital guards of all property. Men there
are, (as already intimated^) who would pull down
the defensive barriers of wealth and industry, and
drive the ploughshare of violence over the rubbish
of their fallen muniments. And why? Not in the
vain hope of keeping, when reduced, all things at
the same dead level ; not the romantic disinterest¬
edness of being themselves—if as good—yet no
better than the residue; biit from motives wicked
as base,—the love of rapine,—a craving for spoil
and plunder,—an inflamed expectancy of making
their own fortunes amid the general rush and scram¬
ble of the overturn,—and vaulting into stations of
place and consequence, by outwitting or outstripping
the less wary and active of their fellows.
No man in his senses can seriously believe that
all distinctions of privileges and possessions can be
melted down in one promiscuous mass, to continue
so under any compulsory state of civilized society.
The plan of a community of goods has been tried
over and over again,,and resulted in disastrous failure.
If in name or form, the system has ever maintained
its ground beyond the hour of its unpromising birth,
it has only been in some petty societies, the regula¬
tions of which could not for a moment exist among
the complicated relations of populous states. The
experiment was made, under the best auspices ol
which it was susceptible, in the infancy of our own
Commonwealth. Lands in fee were withheld from
all the original settlers. Every thing was then
29
common. The avails of husbandry and the products
of the fisheries were thrown into a general stock,
from which supplies of food and other necessaries
were again issued like rations in a garrison. The
consequence was, that as the idle were sure to be
fed—if bread there was—from the public storehouse,
they were little anxious to contribute their share of
toil and exertion to meet the common exigencies ;
and the industrious were overtasked for the purpose
of furnishing the requisite sufficiency. Some im¬
provement was made when, three years after the
settlement at Plymouth, acre lots were assigned to
colonists in usufruct; and more, when four years
later, these lots were extended to sections of twenty
acres. The absolute property therein continued to
be some time longer withheld—shut out by rigorous
interdict; nor was it till every contrivance was
resorted to, short of the one inevitable though long
deprecated issue, that the whole policy was aban-
daned.* Real estate was then created;—full titles
to possessions were granted;—lands distributed in
clear severalty ;—trade was thrown open to the fair
rivalry of all;—and every man's gains were guaran¬
teed for his sole, exclusive behoof and disposal.
And what followed? Spurs were at once put to
enterprise. Business no longer languished. Useful
occupations multiplied and fiourished. The hum of
cheerful industry resounded on all sides. The tide
*See Historical Memoir of Plymouih, (Vol. I. pp. 120,148| 158, et. al.) by Hod
Francis Baylies.
3*
30
of wealth began to set into the little colony,—at
first fed by scanty rills, then swelled by ampler
streams, till it rolled at length its broad and silvery
current through the smiling landscape,—transmut¬
ing, like a second Pactolus, its very sands into gold.
Property, in short, there must be. Its fountains
must be open to all ; but every man's reservoir,
dependent as it is for capaciousness on his personal
means and abilities, must be sealed against intruders.
Where there'is property, there must be confidence;
and confidence presupposes and exacts a state of
security. Destroy these immunities, and you dis¬
band society. Rather might I say,—destroy it
though you would,—reduce it to its original atomic
state, the decomposition cannot be permanent. So
long as man continues man and associates with his
fellow man, and human skill and powers, tempers,
tastes and opportunities remain, as they ever will
remain, endlessly diverse,—new artificial combina¬
tions and orderly arrangements and protective meth¬
ods of checks and encouragements, will inevitably
ensue. You may break down, but you cannot keep
down. You may pluck up, root and branch, the
existing establishments of a civilized age or peo¬
ple. You may furrow afresh the field of society.
You may trundle your rolling stones across its
«
smooth and even surface ; but you cannot preserve
such unnatural level. Other forms of social life-
forms of order, and beauty, and freshness—will
spring up from the clearing. They will be found
vegetating again in mixed and harmonious assem-
31
blagC) aixd mounting in regular gradation from the
hyssop on the wall to the tall and stately cedar of
Lebanon.
III. I go on to remark upon the duties imposed by
the juncture.—Dark as the portents may be, there
is nothing to warrant despondence. In darker
»
hours, our fathers sought and obtained deliverance.
We are not to to fold our arms in supineness, nor
look quietly on, and fruitlessly bewail evils suscepti¬
ble of relief or cure. If we bestir ourselves^ an
Almighty Protector will vouchsafe His aid. The
Lord's arm is not slackened that it cannot save ; nor
His ear heavy that He cannot hear. He who "sift¬
ed a kingdom for the wheat " sown in our wilderness,
will, in answer to the prayers of His servants, still
bless the springing and the increase. He who
raised up a people upon these shores by a train of
such brilliant providences, from "a little one to a
thousand, and from a small one to a strong nation,"
will not suffer His gracious purposes to be frustrated.
Bright tokens of hope and promise are flung out to
our gaze. And the gloomiest signs which chequer
the prospect, will prove, we will hope, but as the
clouds to usher in the more triumphant coming of
the Son of Man—the Prince of Peace and of Right¬
eousness.
That the institutions under which, in the main,
we have so pre-eminently prospered, should be
carefully cherished, is what every good citizen must
admit. The prominent evils of our times proceed
*
32
in a great measure from the teeming blessings con¬
veyed by the privileges of our lot—engendering bj
abuse, a species of plethory in the heart of the
nation. What the prophet recorded of Jerusalem,—
"Behold, this was thine iniquity—pride, fullness of
bread, and abundance of idleness; and thou hast
multiplied thine abominations"—^is, alas, too appli¬
cable to ourselves. Our table has become to us a
snare; and from the cup of prosperity we hare
drunk unto surfeit.
Perversions, nevertheless, of the wisest institu¬
tions only illustrate the weakness or viciousness of
human nature. They do not make against the value
and importance of the institutions themselves, any
more than the common abuses of the gifts and boun¬
ties of Heaven prove the latter to be intrinsically
bad and worthless. Whatever is good, placed with¬
in our reach, should be gratefully and rationally
applied to its true and proper uses. And our bless¬
ings we should conscientiously hold and exercise, as
faithful and wise stewards.
Our duties as citizens embrace a double class of
responsibilities. Partly they pertain to our public
functionaries; and partly they respect the great
body of the people. Rulers may be eminently
instrumental, by measures of sound legislation, in
contributing to the support and usefulness of the
institutions of which they are the special guardians.
By prudent enactments, timely and dispassionately
framed to meet emergencies, to strengthen old and
33
salutary regulations, to check the facilities of dex¬
terous legal evasions, to expunge what is obsolete,
explain what is doubtful, soften what is harsh, and
liberalize what is narrow,—by these and similar
provisions, they may become the ministers of God
for great good to a people. Laws, whether civil
statutes or penal ordinances—conceived in a spirit
of justice and moderation—should be resolutely and
promptly executed. Indulged impunity is a bribe '
to transgression ; and excessive lenity is a wrong to
the public. The laws of Draco, which were so
severe that they were said to be written in blood,—
adjudging the sternest punishments to even trivial
offences—defeated their own aims. Instead of ter¬
rifying from all crime and misdemeanor, they broke
down in the public mind the distinctions between
right and wrong. Offences, the gravest as well as
the lightest, vere committed in open defiance of so
arbitrary a code. Penalties could not be exacted ;
and the whole system sunk into early abandonment
and scorn. Our legislation is planned on a different
policy,—tempering rigor with mercy, and aiming to
reduce extreme punishments, to the minimum stan¬
dard consistent with general safety. Duty therefore
demands that retribution should follow swift on the
J
steps of crime ; that every penal act on our statute-
book be infiexibly enforced, or forthwith be blotted
from the page which it stains as a dead letter ; that
instead of connivances at fiagrant violations of legal
enactments, every serious breach of them be punished,
34
and every insult to their authority be indignantly
frowned down; and the prerogatives of the civil
power, the reign of order and the majesty of law be
maintained inviolate.
Vigilance in the performance of these duties is
doubly requisite at a crisis like the present, when the
elements of society are so liable to disturbance ; and
when those two antagonist forces, namely, authority
and subjection,—existing with more or less intensity
under every form of government,—are being brought
into such frequent and serious collision. But with
institutions like ours, if all good citizens and sound
patriots, whether holding official or mere private
relations, will do their duty and use the necessaiy
precautions,—if our sentries on the watch towers,
or the warders which man our ramparts, will sound
the timely alarums, and stand to their posts, and
cover their defences,—the citadel will be safe. No
weapon turned against it shall prosper. God will
fight for us. For,government is from Him; though
forms of government be of men. As it is written:
" Whosoever resisteth the power, resisteth the ordi¬
nances of God ; and they that resist shall receive
condemnation." If we therefore be not wanting to
ourselves,—with God for our helper,—success in
the struggle is certain; as, contrarily, disaster and
defeat must rest upon a cause where the demon
spirit of anarchy is suffered to carry the standard.
It is not irrelevant to remark in passing, on the
aptitude of extremes to approximate and interchange,
35
altîiougli separated, to all appearance, wide as the
poles asunder. Under despotisms, the spirit of
insubordination is kept down by the sternness of
governmental regulations acting as a ponderous,
mechanical weight pressing from above. Under
republics, through the absence of unnecessary and
vexatious restraints, it has fewer temptations and
appliances for action ; and it exists in comparative
inertness, only requiring in general a prudent "and
steady watching. In the former, whenever the elas¬
tic force succeeds by a convulsive effort to extricate
itself, it shakes down the pillars of a monarchy,—
perhaps burying its every vestige in one wide and
yawning gulf of ruin ; and from out of new materials,
an emancipated people set to work, to construct
other and more liberal institutions adapted to the
forms of a free commonwealth. In the latter case,,
if by some fatal catastrophe caused by insurrection¬
ary violences, the frame of a government be dislo¬
cated, the short and turbulent reign of mad licen¬
tiousness is almost sure to be succeeded by an iron
tyranny. Some master-spirit speedily arises to
combine anew the scattered powers of sovereignty,
and to reduce and shape them into an engine of
most galling oppression. Social relations, in the
two cases, are reversed. In the first instance, a
nation of slaves is transformed into a nation of free¬
men ;—in the second, a commonwealth of freemen
is degraded to the condition of slaves.
The ejiample of Revolutionary France oflfers an
36
illustration sufficiently in point. There, a despot!-
cal monarchy, on the first overtimn, was exchanged
for a republic,—short lived indeed because of the
intoxication which liberty inspired, acting on the
passions of an ignorant and brutalized populace.
The blessings of freedom they knew not how to
apply to their legitimate uses ; and when the few
frail breastworks hastily run up for their protection
during the earliest storm of the Revolution, were
swept away by the hurricanes which followed, the
people sunk under a more absolute tyranny,—led
captive, nay chained to the conquering car of one
of the haughtiest oppressors that ever trampled
on the freedom and happiness of man.—Liberty,
I have said, they were incapable of enjoying.
They were ignorant, and could not appreciate it.
They were profiigate, and lost it. And this sug¬
gests another reflection bearing upon our duties. ,
Laws are of no permanent avail, without the
sanction of public sentiment. The main reliance is
Opinion ; and this, to be effectual, must be informed
and enlightened. As ignorance is necessary to the
stability of despotisms, general knowledge is essen¬
tial to the security of republics.* A discerning
people, from the instinct of interest, will be naturally
led to uphold institutions whose practical advantages
they are made capable of estimating.
* The late crowned head of the Holy Alliance, Francis I. of Austria, had
ity enough lo understand this ; when to the Faculty of the College of Layback,oa
their presentation to his majesty, he had the imperial effrontery tosay—^'Geolie*
men, 1 want not learned men, but only loyal and good subjects/'
37
But knowledge, to produce this end, must not be
confined to a small circle of select and gifted minds,
constituting a privileged order, or caste, in society.
With such restriction, under the most liberal forms
of government, it would only serve to embellish
without strengthening the columns of a state. There
were wise minds, and sound minds, and intelligent
minds, in France at the memorable outburst of its
first Revolution ; but they formed a club by them¬
selves—holding the keys of the temple of science—
chary of its golden stores unto others—and specially
jealous of admitting the people to a share in their
monopoly. The consequence was, that in the gen¬
eral confusion which ensued, on their attempting to
manage and guide the undisciplined masses of society,
their wisdom profited not for want of a correlative
judgment—that instructed reason in the public mind
—whereby alone the people could be brought to
co-operate in their schemes of political and national
regeneration. — Will you say that Knowledge is
Power, and that like many of the blind forces of art
or of nature, it is capable of being determined to
objects either of good or eviH We grant it. But
the fact only goes to prove, that for the purpose of
preventing and neutralizing the possible misapplica¬
tion of knowledge when confined to a few, the safest
course assuredly is to extend the gift unto all. Just
as a standing army would be dangerous to the
liberties of a people. But put weapons into the-
hands of all, and you make every man at once a
4
é
38
national guardsman. A people thus collectively
armed, supposing them to be endued with an ordi¬
nary share of intelligence, whilst they are prepared
to resist the encroachments of arbitrary power, are
enlisted to protect a government to the last extrem¬
ity, so long as it shall restrict itself to its legitimate
sphere and functions.
But there are other evils to be guarded against.
As knowledge, we have admitted, may prove injuri¬
ous where unequally apportioned, it may become
such when unsound, or baneful, or defective. The
learning of the dark and scholastic ages was little
better than chaff, which might cram the intellect
without ever nourishing a strong and healthy growth.
The philosophy of the school of Frederick* and
Voltaire, may be compared to a honey-cake mixed
with ratsbane. And in our times, what is called
popular knowledge is restricted too much to bare
rudiments.—A man may be able to read, write and
* I calí il the school of Frederick, for Ite—»-the irrst of the name, miscalled the
Great—affected as is well known, the character oí a piiilosopher as well as ptron
of the eminent philosophers, (i. e. the famous infidel writers and geniuses) ofhis
own times. No man contributed so imich as that monarch to the disseminaiioo of
those pestilent principles which, sown throughout France and Europe, shot up io'
the succeeding generation, like the dragon's teeth, into a harvest of armed wa^
riors, reared, it would seem, expressly to lake vengeance on his line, and shiver 8^
a blow the colossal military power which he had been at such consummate pains to
eslabIi^h. A writer in a late number of the Foreign Quarterly Review has au ^
admirable refiection on this point, which 1 shall make no apology for transcribing.
Alluding to the fatal battle of Jena, he says—If on that day the shade of Fred*
erick the Great had risen from the dead, he would have felt in the blighted glories
oí the House of [Irandenburgh, the solemn and gory retribution of the iiiiideliiy
which he had taught to France, and the love oí conquest with w hich so long be bad
afflicted Furope.—In fourteen clays from Napoleon's crossing the Rhine, he was
iiiting vicior in the palace of Frederick.'*
cypher, and not be intelligent. That depends on
the use he makes of the elementary helos of know¬
ledge he has obtained, and the absolute acquisitions
which by their means he may amass. A taste for
these should be actively encouraged. Every aid to
improvement, by stimulating a thirst for knowledge,
enkindling manly thought, promoting liberal investi¬
gations, gratifying a love of science,—in short, aught
that may contribute to elevate and dignify the intel¬
lectual nature, should be an object of -solicitude to a
patriot's heart. The private citizen who lends his
influence towards these ends,—whether by the es
tablishment of village Lyceums, enlarging through
the press the stuck of popular literature, or familiar¬
izing science by means of oral instruction in the
form of public lectures or addresses—is a benefactor
to society. Rulers, by giving both an official and
personal patronage to helping on the same great
objects, are entitled to a double measure of gratitude
and praise.
But virtue, you may remind me, should be the at¬
tendant on knowledge.—Unquestionably. They are
the twin handmaids to lead on the march of social im¬
provement. They are bound by a common ligament
—closely and vitally bound, as was that famous pair
of another species once brought to us from Siam.
Their aims and interests strictly are identified ; nor
can they, in the natural order of things, be with any
prudence or safety dissevered. I might go a step fur¬
ther, and say, that knowledge of the right stamp is
40
virtue;—knowledge, do I mean, discharged of ail
impurities,—knowledge clarified from the foul admix¬
tures of error and falsehood, and sublimed and recti¬
fied in the crucible of Truth ;—this, I repeat, is virtue.
A mind thoroughly wise has its moral sense quickened,
and it sees the propitious tendencies and inherent
excellence of the law of right. It perceives that as
every vice is a struggle against nature, so true virtue
is most eminently auspicious to the good of man, and
the elevation and happiness of the species. As
transgression is the parent of shame and sorrow^ so
obedience to the moral commands of the Creator is
the alone absolute security of the welfare of individ¬
uals, and the cement of society. A community of
minds thoroughly enlightened, could not fail to be
virtuous. Hence it is that in Scripture, Piety is oft
termed " Wisdom." Hence also the saying of the
prophet,—"Wisdom and knowledge shall be the
stability of thy times." And again,—"Righteous¬
ness," (which by the analogy of interpretation, is
but the converse term of the former,) " Righteousness
exalteth a nation; and sin is the reproach"—aye
worse—the ruin "of any people." That we have
not more virtue in the land, is for the reason that
we have not more of sound intelligence—more of
that keen-eyed perspicacity which takes into sober
view the ordained relations and consequences of
things, which follows out the indissoluble chain of
consequences between moral effects and their causes,
and which convincingly sees that—sure as the law
41
öf gravity—virtue steadfastly maintained, must ulti¬
mately result in good, error in harm, and vice in
wretchedness.
The business of elucidating these great principles
is too narrowly parcelled out to ditferent classes
of teachers; and the harmonious connexions and
dependencies subsisting among the 1 iws and insti¬
tutes of God in the natural and moral worlds, are
not suiRciently brought into view to be duly heeded
or apprehended. Truth is of God. It proceeds
from, depends on, and leads back to Him, as its
source. In all its varieties and modifications, it
maintains therefore an agreement and perfect self-
eonsistency. One truth is compatible with all other
truth ; human science with divine philosophy ; the
demonstrations of reason with the revelations of
God. But one class of men employs itself in some
exclusive branch of science. Another selects a dif¬
ferent department; and investigation proceeds in
separate paths,—hedged in by strong and artificial
barriers,—as though there existed no natural affini¬
ties in their objects, and no point of convergence for
their common terminus. Here, a philosopher takes
the chair ol natural science, and discourses learn¬
edly on the properties, laws and phenomena of
matter. There, a professor of political economy
ingeniously lectures on the duties of legislation, and
descants on the various expedients it should employ
for increasing the stock of national wealth or melior¬
ating the condition of man in society. The geome-
4#
42
#
trician devotes himself engrossingly to his mathë-'
matical calculations, his problems and his diagrams.
The metaphysician chooses a track of his own, and
wanders away,—haply to be lost—in a maze of fanci¬
ful disquisition. Whilst the preacher employs him¬
self on themes of doctrinal theology,—very possibly
in exalting religion to the disparagement of morality,
and vilifying reason in his anxiety to magnify revela¬
tion.—But why should these things be? Why should
that which God hath joined together, be so per¬
versely and unnaturally sundered? Why should the
fields of science, human and divine, be so carefully
cantoned out into narrow and separate enclosures;
and their lines of demarkation be so jealously kept
up and defended? May not the naturalist be the
devout and sober theist ; and in beholding the beauty,
order and consummate wisdom of the material crea¬
tion, extend his widened vision, and " look through
nature up to nature's God?'' Should the politician
shut out all thought of God and providence, of the
sanctions of religion and eternity in his plans for
the public good; and content himself with pru¬
dential contrivances—studying a nicely-poised sys¬
tem of economic arrangements^as though he could
by any art or craft solely of his own, provide against
the possibility of national reverses, or resolve in the
apparatus of government the long sought for problem
of a perpetual motion ? Shall theology remain
intrenched in her ancient state and mystery, and not
rather come down to accommodate herself more
43
píactically to the moral wants and interests of man¬
kind? And when mixing in the walks of life, shall
she appear in the character of a jealous spy, instead
of a kindly companion,—-a sage, yet welcome, mon-
itress and friend,—designed to regulate with grace
and wisdom all the affairs of men—presiding to equal
advantage in the councils of nations, the diversified
transactions and employments of social intercourse,
and the more sequestered scenes and duties of pri¬
vate life? Claiming the prerogative of infallibility
in questions of abstract faith and doctrine, shall she
also look coldly and suspiciously on the honest
researches of human genius in the realms of creation
and providence,—as though that "elder scripture,"
the Book of Nature, were not worthy of consultation,
or if read at all, must only be interpreted with the
forced glosses of some of her many narrow and
hampering schemes of divinity?
Whatever the cause may be, the fact seems cer¬
tain, that whilst religion such as she came down
from God out of heaven,—"pure and undefiled,"—
is worthy of the love, the admiration and homage of
all intelligent natures, she is denied that controuling
influence in human interests and pursuits so reason¬
ably her due. She is divorced from science—little
relished by the sons of taste and genius—passed
uncared for by the men of the world—and dethroned
from the seats of her rightful occupancy in the sta¬
tions of business, the haunts of social life, the cham¬
bers of senates and the cabinets of rulers. Men ply
44
their profound researches and observations in the
various departments of the kingdom of nature ; but
alas, not to feel after God and find Him out, thoug
He be not far from every one of us. They plan
and toil ; but with an absorbing interest in things
seen and temporal, and scarce the shadow of a sol¬
emn realization of the certainty and awfulness of
the dread futurity before them. They govern, de¬
vise and legislate; but how rarely in thoughtful
dependence—how seldom with a fixed and rooted
faith on the sovereign disposals of an unseen yet all-
eyed God,—Him who holding in His hands the
forces of the universe, can instantly execute every
purpose of mercy or of wrath ; who has made
known those laws of His moral government whose
sanctions are eternal, and from whose dominion
there is no escaping,—laws established on principles
broad as the empire of intelligent being, deep as the
foundations of His immortal throne. And shall we
disown their authority? Oh, let us submit—rever¬
ently submit—to all God's immutable statutes. Let
us yield our implicit obedience to the everlasting
rules of truth and righteousness ordained for men
on earth and angels in heaven. And in all our get-
tings, let us get divine wisdom. In all our schem-
ings, let us scheme as creatures of God and heirs of
eternity. In all our conditions—ruling or ruled—
let us walk in the fear and seek the blessing of One,
who alone can " speak concerning a nation to build
and to plant," or "to pluck up, pull down and de¬
stroy it."
45
ÎV. It remains that I remark on some special
means and motives for arresting existing dangers,
and perpetuating the blessings we possess.
The effective safeguards of our public institutions
have been shown to be the virtue and intelligence of
the people. Legislation, whatever else it may en¬
courage, should steadily aim to strengthen these
bulwarks of national security. The mental and
moral culture of the people must be a primary
object of solicitude; and whatever promotes this,
will invigorate all the other operations of good gov¬
ernment. Although the remark might more prop¬
erly have fallen under the preceding head of the
discourse, still it may be indulged here, that it is the
amount of public virtue—little or much—diffused in
our land which, under God, has hitherto been the
support of our civil and political institutions. Occa¬
sionally, a dangerous incendiary has arisen among
ourselves, and many have been the turbulent and
fiery spirits cast upon our shores by the revolu¬
tionary storms of the old world, who have threatened
the public safety and tranquility ; but thus far, we
have escaped all serious detriment. The fiercest
anarch of mischief from the infidel schools, or the
disastrous battle fields of Europe, that has come
among us, has been here tamed and reduced to
reason and order—at least, to comparative impo¬
tence. And even the mighty undulations which
have swept abroad over the face of society, and
swallowed the proudest wrecks of empire in their
46
bosom, have rolled with harmless swell around the
pillars of our Republic, and left the fabric in its
original strength and steadfastness. And whence
this security? We say again, that the main efficient
cause must he sought in the aggregate virtue and
intelligence of the people. This has proved the
grandly simple preservative of our rights and liber¬
ties, our laws and union, our confederated govern¬
ments, state and national. Eulogize as you may all
other political guards,—extol, nay reverence, though
you should, the Constitution as a miracle of human
wisdom, still every thing else is of secondary influ¬
ence. The civil edifice has rested—it must continue
to rest—on the one basis already indicated. Weak¬
en it, and the building totters. Dislodge it, and
the superstructure will tumble into ruin.
The question recurs as to the nature of the pro¬
tecting means. Education, in one word, compre¬
hends the whole ;—education directed to the facul¬
ties of the head and heart, the mind and soul of
man. He was a wise statesman who said,* ere the
opinion had been so completely verified by observa¬
tion, That popular instruction is "the cheap defence
of nations." Our infant, day and sabbath schools—
our seminaries of general literature—our halls of
science—our institutions of learning and religion, are
the main props of the nation's hope. In the re¬
stricted sense of the term, which confines education
to a developement of the powers of mind, legislative
* Edmund Burke.
47
îiid, judicially administered, may be advantageously
applied. Endowments for the erection of useful
seminaries, or appropriations to enlarge the sphere
of their operations, will be prompted by a wise fore¬
cast towards the public interest.
Knowledge should be popularized. Channels,
accordingly, for its distribution should be opened up
to every man's door. It should be made to nourish
the gernr of infant thought ; to invigorate the ex¬
panding powers of childhood and of youth ; and to
satisfy the wants and cravings of more advanced
and ripened minds. The aim should be to pre-
»
occupy the thinking and intellectual faculties; to
divert them from low and grovelling pursuits ; to
set the bent of the attachments on objects deserving
of a generous ambition; and to give scope to the
active energies of our nature by multiplying the
sources and dispensing the pleasures of enriching,
mental cultivation.—But knowledge, to be popular¬
ized, must first be cheapened, and secondly be sim¬
plified.
First, it must be cheapened. Precious as it is,
we would have it abundant—plentiful as gold in the
days of Solomon, when " silver was nothing ac¬
counted of." Every dollar expended for this pur¬
pose from the public coffers, is of the nature of an
insurance premium to guard against heavier liabili¬
ties that would else arise from some other quarter.
The more liberal the outlay here, the less shall we
biave to discount for the public needs, in order to the
48
repression of vice and crime, and the long catalogue
of social disorders incident to an uninstructed state
of society. Good policy suggests that like readiness
of liberality should prevail in towns, villages and
districts. There is a frugality often practised in
these matters, which defeats its own ends,—a parsi¬
mony, which like some other devices, is "taken in
its own craftiness." To save a few scores or hun¬
dreds of dollars on the charge of municipal or local
schools, is deemed by some a great stroke of pru¬
dent calculation. But so long as the observation
holds good, that ignorance is the parent of pauperism
and crime, and that individual and general intelli¬
gence, by sharpening the mental powers, augments
the productive resources of a people,—the economy
alluded to can have little to recommend it on the
score of sound wisdom. A single energetic mind,
awakened to a consciousness of its young powers,
and mounting by the process of elementary tuition
in a village school-house, the first rude steps of the
Temple of Knowledge, may go forth not only to
personal fame and eminence, but to repay, through
the triumphs of inventive genius, in an hundred fold,
the slender yet priceless boon ol" early, juvenile
instruction. Many a " village Hampden " has sprung
forward from no higher a starting-post on theraceof
glorious ambition. The genius of Rumford was in¬
debted for its first bright buddings to the forcing
atmosphere—such as it was—of an humble country
school-room. And the imperial mind of Franklin
i
49
opened to tlie earliest inspirations of truth and
wisdom within the walls of one of those public little
seminaries—still the objects of the Civic pride—as
anciently of the provident care and nurture of the
good old Town of Boston.
Education in its practical effects, has been com¬
pared by some one, to the artificial process of
washing for diamonds. If the analogy be not
thought too fanciful, I would say then. Let the
operation of sifting and searching be keen and thor¬
ough. Let eveiy handful of the intellectual soil be
subjected to rigid scrutiny and analysis,—that its
latent wealth be all unfolded, and the gems of tal¬
ent be diligently sought out and secured.
However we may illustrate the method of the
benefits, the amount of good in all likelihood to be
obtained will abundantly justify an ample investment
of preparatory means. The cheapness we plead
for, respects not the cost of apparatus, but the priv¬
ilege of the accommodations for the service of all.
Those accommodations should be placed on the
most liberal footing. No cost should be spared to
render our schools not only accessible to every class
and to every individual mind, but to elevate their
character and extend and improve their means of
usefulness. The standard of education should be
raised. Professional instructors should be duly
honored and encouraged. They should be well
paid and patronised, if we would secure in this
5
50
department a well trained and valuable body öf
men, and render their office inviting and desirable.
The government of our parent state has never
been slack of its boünty in aid of these laudable
objects. The recent munificent endowment of a
school fund by the destination given to the moneys
reimbursed from the national treasury in settlement
of our public claims, and from the sale of lands in
the state of Maine;—the generous patronage often
extended to higher seminaries—to our academies
and colleges, and especially our neighboring Uni¬
versity, the pride of Massachusetts,—these are so
many pledges of a noble liberality to be looked for
from the same quarter as the interests of education
shall hereafter require. May such bounty meet
with a large reward ! And to her rising offspring
gratefully appreciating the blessings of their lot,
may our beloved Commonwealth be able to point
exultingly and exclaim,—as did the Roman matron
of her noble progeny,—"These are my jewels!"
But, secondly, knowledge must be simplified. If
it is "to run to and fro" in the land, it must move
with free and unfettered foot.—It should be made
clear and enlightening, to be useful and improving.
This may seem a trite remark ; but albeit, the art
of instruction, at least in former times, has been
too much the art of mystification. Time was, and
at no remote era, when the school boy in his Latin
accidence had to grope his way to a knowledge of
syntax, through an opaque cloud of Latin words
enveloping the very rules themselves. It was the
51
age when the maxim was current, that there was
no royal road to geometry"—of course, to none of
the associate departments of literature and science ;
and when the attempt to penetrate by a short
North-west passage would have been indignantly
repelled by the hereditary lords of those intellec¬
tual regions. The tempting fruit of the tree of
Jinowledge was as scrupulously guarded as ever the
fabled apples in the garden of the Hesperides ; and
a literary adventurer, like the hardy, young Argo¬
naut of old, had to catch the monster. Jealousy,
asleep, ere the golden prize could be reached and
won. We have made a great advance since those
times. Mind has been disenthralled. Numerous
avenues of knowledge have been forced open. Sci¬
ence is discarding her hood and mufflers; and truth
no longer with prudish coyness seeks to hide her
beauteous features from the vulgar gaze. We per-
eeive the change in the more liberalized systems of
education getting into vogue ;—our improved man¬
uals of juvenile instruction ;—the reduction of valu¬
able principles of knowledge more nearly to thé
level of ordinary understandings ;—and in general,
the inculcation of the philosophy of sense, along with
the sense of true philosophy.—But all is not yet
done. Much rubbish remains to be gathered up
and removed. A greater degree of simplicity must
still be introduced into our methods of teaching, and
the elementary treatises of popular instruction. The
paths of learning should be rendered more easy,
52
more smooth and more alluring. The liberal arts
and sciences should answer their name and object
by being placed on a footing of the freest and most
liberal access to every one ; and all, for the purpose
of aifording a vigorous intellectual aliment, and
ensuring the grand desideratum,—a sound and ele¬
vating "Knowledge for the People."
It is gratifying to find our high schools decidedly
on the increase;—schools open to all, but where
the superior branches of study which have been
usually confined to private institutions of greater
pretension, are advantageously taught to youth of
both sexes. We say, advantageously; though some,
we know, would dispute their benefits,—maintain¬
ing that the introduction of a taste for general know¬
ledge or polite literature among the poorer orders
of society, must make them discontented with their
conditions, unfitted for the duties they impose, yet
unable to reach an accredited position in the more
elevated walks of society. But away with such silly
apprehensions ! If knowledge possessed no higher
recommendation than the yielding a fund of inno¬
cent and rational enjoyment to the mind, let the
comfort be granted to all. The tedious hours of
languor and vacuity incident to men in every call¬
ing, might thereby be agreeably occupied; the
pressure of heart-wearing care be relieved and sof¬
tened ; and misfortune be beguiled, in part, of its
sense of suffering and sorrow. Nor is this all : If
knowledge should produce the possible consequence
53
t).f rendering its initiates in the humbler classes of life
dissatisfied with their conditions, why be it so—let
us heartily exclaim—and let them leave those con¬
ditions forthwith. The attempt to rise by such a
ladder would be fair and honorable. Let no man
forbid the stirrings of so generous an ambition ; but
let us aid them to mount to higher and better for¬
tunes. The good efiect would be extensively felt.
It would quicken those who are antecedently in ad¬
vance, to greater activity and vigilance, that they
may not be outdone in the generous rivalry. It
would rouse them to correspondent intellectual ex¬
ertions to maintain their relative ascendancy ; and
"forgetting the things which are behind, to press
forward to those which are before" in a perpetual
progress of vigorous, manly improvement.
For my own part, I wish to behold no fixed,
horizontal layers in society,—no arbitrary grada¬
tions unalterably disposed,—having a deep miry
base in an ignorant, brutish and sunken populace.
Eather, let the social structure be brought into
closer conformity to what is often witnessed in the
physical,—as, for example, among the gigantic,
material forms of nature ;—where the observer finds
the primitive rock penetrating the transition, ascend¬
ing next into the superior strata, and finally pierc¬
ing the brows of stupendous mountains, like the
granite peaks on the tallest of the Alpine summits.
But whilst we claim much for mental cultivation,
we must never overlook as its indispensable co-
5*
54
efficient, the assistant agency of moral instruction-
To ensure the last, our systems of common school
education might undoubtedly be rendered more
signally available than past observation has gener¬
ally shown. The remark of the celebrated reformer
Martin Luther, in respect to the seminaries of his
age, "That they were more pagan than christian,"
possesses unfortunately too much of applicability to
our own. The school boy, for the most part, is
treated rather as a creature of mind than of soul;
and the anxiety seems to be, to turn him out a far
better proficient in worldly science and the learning
of profane antiquity, than a disciple of divine wis¬
dom, or a pupil in the school of Christ. I can only
glance at the fact with the hope that attention may
be drawn to the subject, and remedies may not be
wanting,—and proceed to advert to the more encour¬
aging auguries furnished by another class of juvenile
establishments ; I mean, our sabbath schools. As
an auxiliary among the means of early religious
instruction, they should receive the approbation of
all. Supplying as they do, to a considerable extent
the deficiency, and administering some antidote to
the bane, just complained of, they cannot be too
warmly commended. Conducted by different and
somewhat discordant sects, the end of all is Good ;
and the amount of good achieved or in prospect
exceeds calculation. The very emulation inspired
among the conductors of these noble charities, is
not without its salutary uses. I envy not the feel-
55
ings of that man who can look with frigid indifference
on these little nurseries of infant immortals ;—who
can survey unmoved their gentle yet auspicious in¬
fluences on the dawning capacities of the deathless
soul ;—and whose bosom heaves not with kindling
emotion as he reflects that here the seeds of good¬
ness, judiciously instilled, are gradually trained into
those plants of piety and holiness which, through
the mercy of God, will hereafter unfold with unfad¬
ing beauty in the pure air and the bright light of
heaven.
Among the provisional means of moral and reli¬
gious instruction, it is scarcely necessary to say,
that the pulpit holds a prominent place. A vast
responsibility belongs to it,—one which should be
wisely and faithfully exercised, and which cannot
be too profoundly cherished and realized. The age
demands that no meagre nor lifele.ss form of Chris¬
tianity be suffered to supplant the noble simplicity
of scripture truth. It requires, as we have else¬
where intimated, that the gospel, stript of the tech¬
nics and mysticism of bygone times, should be
propounded as an enlightening and energizing prin¬
ciple, adapted to meet all the capacities of the
understanding, no less than to satisfy all the wants
and aspirations of the soul; that, in short, the
religion of Jesus,—clad in that meek-eyed grace
and virgin loveliness which she wore when following
in the steps of One "who went about doing good,"
—shall be triumphantly heralded as a ministering
56
spirit sent forth to gladden and bless all the habita¬
tions of men—rto hallow their joys and sorrows, their
hopes and enterprises, their schemes and occupa¬
tions—to guide them through life, cheer them in
death, and breathe her sweet and soothing farewell
in the ear of their departing spirits.
These blessings in their fulness have never been
enjoyed—perfectly enjoyed—in any age or coun¬
try. Christianity has consequently never been fairly
tasked to her utmost powers. Never, at least,
has she been completely tried in her sublimely
regenerative and strengthening action on society
and nations. Under her happiest modifications,
it is only the comparative few who have yielded
entire submission to her laws. The residue have
experienced but partially the purifying and life-giv¬
ing influences of her "free spirit." Yet when we
candidly consider the sum of her benefits ; when we
' remember that imperfectly as she has been allowed
to operate in the world, she has nevertheless dis¬
pensed an inestimable amount of good ; when we
«
bear in mind that, like the ark, she has left a bless¬
ing on eve.y place where she has rested;—that
nations, the rudest and most polished, which have
bowed to her authority, in proportion to such subjec¬
tion and their recipiency of her genuine spirit, have
been strengthened, and humanized, and exalted;
that the gospel is still the power of God and the
wisdom of God for safety and salvation,—how pow¬
erful are our inducements to aid the victorious march
57
of her principles in our land, and to ensure them an
universality of influence and dominion. For these
ends, the pulpit must exert a more stirring influ¬
ence;—and the press must lend a strenuous and
earnest co-operation ;—and parents and teachers be
inspired with a more solemn sense of accountable-
ness in their respective spheres and offices ;—and
every man must act on the persuasion that by the
reform of personal vice and the practice of personal
virtue, he may contribute something to his country's
advantage ;—and there must be principle in citizens
and principle in rulers;—and men clothed with high
official trusts must honor in their lives what they
ratify by their public acts, and reverence the divine,
as the surest helps to the stability of human laws,—
and then along with piety will prosperity abound
in our land, and the national peace, security, and
happiness be planted on the only firm and solid
platform, a sound national morality.
Other specifics may fail. But that public virtue
which is associated with a truly enlightened condi¬
tion of the public mind, will work a cure in the
distempers of the most degenerate times ! Educa¬
tion then, to be completely successful, must be
directed co the one grand ultimate object, the thor¬
ough Christianizationof a people. Accomplish this,
and all the accompanying pledges of a nation's
welfare and security derived from its political insti¬
tutions, will be abundantly confirmed and made
^ood. Christianity would operate as the transfusion
58
of fresh, nourishing blood into a weak and languish¬
ing frame. It would renovate the exhausted, vital
principle,—supply new powers and energies,—give
strength to infirmity, and youthful buoyancy in lieu
of premature decrepitude, and send a vigorous pulse
and a healthy circulation through every vein and
artery of the body politic.
Conclusively to test the remedy, and make full
trial of the various means and instruments placed
within our reach for the maintainance of our public
privileges and blessings, we are urged by the strong¬
est Motives which can address our sensibilities as
men and patriots. To the existing generation—our¬
selves in common with our fellow-citizens—have been
committed in custody the highest interests ever en¬
trusted to human charge, involving not only our own
welfare and the happiness of our posterity, but bear¬
ing on the condition and prospects of civilized man
in every quarter of the globe. However we may
flatter ourselves that the problem has been success¬
fully solved, we have not yet lived sufficiently long
as an independent nation, to silence the cavils of
those who affirm the incompetency of a great and
free people for the arduous duties of self government.
To the princes and cabinets of the old world—the
patrons and minions of despotism,—we stand forth
collectively an object of suspicion, aversion or hate.
Our example is dreaded; our influence deprecated;
our vaunted institutions and the blessings they be¬
stow are regarded with a temper of ill-disguised
59
jealousy, or open and uncompromising hostility.
Every movement of intestine disorder, every explo¬
sion of popular violence, every symptom of social
disaffection, real or imaginary, are interpreted as
evidences of national degeneracy and the approach¬
ing overthrow of our Government and Union. And
if, in return, we have no feelings of special sympa¬
thy for invidious observers of this description, we
should be deterred through dread of honest shame
from aught that might seemingly countenance their
predictions, or justify by the issue their sinister fore¬
bodings.
But it is a more animating consideration that in
the eyes of others,—a fast multiplying host,—our
position is admiringly contemplated; that hither-
ward, the friends of freedom in regions the most
distant, turn a look of hope, and joy, and confidence ;
that our land has become the asylum of the children
of misfortune, the home of the exiled sons of liberty
and conscience from every enslaved and suffering
clime ; and that the star of our country's fortunes is
followed as the beacon light of millions more, in
their struggles for national emancipation.—And shall
we disappoint their fond and ardent hopes? Shall
we halt midway in our glorious career,—or what is
worse, tread back our irresolute footsteps? Shall
we abandon the pledges and securities so oft and so
nobly renewed of constancy in freedom's cause, and
our steadfast assertion of principles in the successes
of which are bound up our country's fortunes, and
the interests of oppressed and persecuted humanity
60
the wide world over? Forbid it, charity! Forbid
it honor ! Forbid it, patriotism !
Let it quicken our emulation to reflect that, ele¬
vated as we are in the sight of the nations by our
distinguishing privileges, there is no culminating
point unalterably fixed in the book of fate whither
we may go but no further, and where our ascend¬
ing course shall imperatively be stayed. We may
rear indeed the fatal barrier at any chosen limit.
We may say when, or where, that limit shall be.
For God has placed our destinies in our own hands.
We may advance, or we may retrograde. We may
climb or fall—prosper or perish. The alternative
is left with ourselves. But there is no escaping the
effects of moral causes once deliberately chosen,
and whose dominion, by our discretionary permis¬
sion, is established in the midst. By wisdom and
righteousness we shall assuredly be exalted. By
folly and wickedness we shall sink and be undone.
A people wise, virtuous, free—true to reason and
justice, to duty, conscience and to God—a people
uniting with these moral requisites, the many subsi¬
diary elements of political power enjoyed by our¬
selves—^a people pre-eminently privileged by every
feature and circumstance of their condition—masters
of half a continent, heirs of the noblest patrimony j
that ever fell to the lot of man—a people,
Mature in a nation at their birth,
Who!5tart where Karope stops, or at her side^
Who spread their commerce o'er the distant earth,
And press where science leads inventive pride,"—
61
such a people, solemnly alive to their high and
momentous responsibilities, may reach a pinnacle of
grandeur that would transcend the pomp of the
proudest empires ever known to history or fame.
Will you say that the issue is dependent on
the virtue and patriotism of the whole, and not a
part ; that we form but a fractional portion—a small
contingent in the great mass of our country's popu¬
lation ; and that it is the character and conduct of
s
the people at large, which must determine our
future progress? Have you forgotten, let me ask,
the moral influence of our own New England,—not
alone by her voice in the national councils, nor yet
the silent efficacy of her bright and beaming exam¬
ple, (that practical exemplification of the value of
her institutions so promotive of knowledge and piety
among the various classes of our citizens :) but do
you lake into account the indirect force of sentiment
and character produced by the personal intercourse
of her children with our brethren throughout the
Union? Do you consider her as the nursing-mother
of a teeming offspring that go everywhere, mingle
everywhere, and diffuse far and wide the wholesome
principles and habits wherein they have been bred?
—New England from the beginning has been a
great Offigina Gentium,—the prolific parent of
colonies dispersed all over the land ; and from the
bosoms of these, as so many radiating centres, the
genial emanations of her wise and beneficent institu¬
tions have never failed to be disseminated. And no
6
6Ê
man of perception -will be startled at the assertion,
as too extravagant, which we offer,—that to this
day. New England continues to exert a preponder¬
ating influence on the whole national character, on
the genius of our government, and the general pol¬
icy and bias of all our public legislation. Her image
and superscription are stamped deep on the face of
society. She has thrown those distinctive ingredi¬
ents into our country's character which make it
what it is—individuated from all others—a character
of unconquerable energy and enterprise—a charac¬
ter of wisdom and firmness—a character of "power
and a sound mind."
The influence of New England, whether for good
or evil, is felt ; and it will continue to he every
where felt so long as our national league shall be
perpetuated. It is not to he estimated by the ratio
of its congressional representation within the walls
of the Capitol. Nor is it an arithmetical product
expressible in plain figures, or which may he arrived
at by the rules of common equations ; hut rather a
politico-algebraic quantity determinable by other
exponents, and requiring deeper powers of compu¬
tation and extraction. Enough that the spirit of the
Pilgrims,—so much of it as has lived down to our
days,—far from being confined to New England, has
imperceptibly spread from the strand first printed
by Pilgrim feet, to the remotest " log-house beyond
the mountains." That spirit was the spirit of free¬
dom, informed and regulated by virtue and under-
63
sEancítrig. Aad shall we not cherish it? Shall we
not foster the institutions which have contributed to
preserve it? Shall not Masachusetts,—she who
first breathed its vital breath, and grew and waxed
strong under its generous nurture,—repay the debt
of filial gratitude by treasuring the principles which
were infused into her young bosom, and giving them
a precedence in her esteem and veneration? And
shall not we, the sons of Massachusetts, maintain
and honor them? Shall we not bind them as a sign
upon our hands, and as frontlets between our eyes?*
Shall we not write them upon the door-posts of our
habitations, and inscribe them upon our gates ?
Shall we not speak of them to our children, when
we sit in our houses, or when we walk by the way,—
on our lying down and on our rising up ? Yes,
though all others should forget them, yet will not
we. Sooner shall the right hand forget its cunning
—sooner shall the tongue cleave to the roof of its
mouth, than we prefer them not above our chief joy !
To my respected audience, whose indulgent at¬
tention I have perhaps too heavily taxed, I beg to
commend the thoughts suggested by the theme and
the occasion. I cherish the hope that in the bosoms
of those at whose command I have ventured on the
responsibility of this discourse, the sentiments ad¬
vanced will find a cordial response. I rejoice to
believe that in addressing the Representatives of the
people of Massachusetts, I address the heirs of the
* Deuteronomy, vi« 6—9
64
virtues of our common progenitors ;—that in appear¬
ing in an assembly embodying the collective wisdom
of our ancient Commonwealth, I behold around me
the worthy sons of worthy sires,—Hebrews of the
Hebrews, "whose are the Fathers."
And what a sublime spectacle do we contemplate!
A whole people, in the persons of their rulers, con¬
vened as the first act of official duty at the opening
of the civil year, to invoke on their bended knees
the blessing of the God of their ancestors ! Shall
it be in mere solemn form ? Should not every soul
ascend in fervent gratitude to that Benignant Power
whose covering wing has been about us, and pro¬
tected us amid all the perils of the way, and guided
us from "the day of small things,"—the first faint¬
ing march in a waste, howling wilderness—" through
the sea" and "under the cloud"—through dark¬
ness, storm and sunshine—till we have reached a
landscape rich in beauty and promise, where the
eye is regaled with scenes of smiling content and
gladsome prosperousness spread out in brightest
perspective around us ? Is there a heart that
should not fèel stronger bound to a brother's heart,
by participation in common deliverances and mer¬
cies, and the sweets of kindred joys and kindred
remembrances 1 Is there a bosom that nurses—oh
no, it cannot be—a bosom nevertheless not totally
devoid of feelings of ungenerous rivalry, or bitter
enmities, or schemes of dark, selfish and sordid
ambition ? Should it not offer up the whole in
65
cheerful and manly sacrifice ? And every foul pas¬
sion—should it not be brought at once to the altar
of patriotism, and he unsparingly condemned and
consumed? Here in this hallowed court, should
4
not hand strike to hand, and heart and voice unite
in solemn vows of unshaken loyalty to freedom, and
virtue, and country, and God ? And should not all
resolve ever more to move forward as brethren and
patriots, seeking the common good, "provoking to
love and good works," scorning all parley with the
serpent tongue of crooked policy and deceit, nor
ever stooping to one base compliance that would
assoil the noble blood that flows in their veins ?
In presenting my valedictory respects to His
Honor the Commander in Chief, on his retirement
from the elevated station he has so ably filled, the
cheering hope is indulged that his distinguished
public services will not long be lost to our beloved
Commonwealth. Our hearty prayers and best
wishes attend him to the arduous and honorable,
though narrower sphere which he goes to occupy,—
that in exchanging the chair of state for the civic
wreath, he may be equally successful in winning
the warm attachments and confidence of his new
constituents, as it has been his merited fortune to
secure from all classes of his fellow citizens whilst
administering the highest functions of the govern¬
ment of this state.*
* As it is probable that a few copies of Ihis Discourse will survive Ho another
¿eiieratioii; on the shelves at least of our public libraries, it may not be amiss to
6*
66
His Excellency, the Governor elect, will indulge
the expression of my cordial congratulations on the
new and brilliant preferment which has fallen to his
singularly happy lot. We rejoice with him that he
lives in an age and a community in which splendid
merit need fear no political ostracism on the score
of envy;—that "he dwells among his own people,"
—a people keen to appreciate, and which delight to
honor, public worth in proportion to its eminence,—
a people ever ready to shower with liberal hand the
rewards which are due to lofty, unswerving and
devoted patriotism. His Excellency is too well
versed in the study of the ancients to have forgotten
the memorable maxim of an illustrious sage—"That
a people will be then well governed, when rulers shall
become philosophers, or when philosophers shall be
made rulers." From a civil magistrate who has
drunk deep from the purest fountains of wisdom,
and whose name has become one of the fairest
ornaments of letters and of science, we cannot but
anticipate that the interests of sound learning as
I
record for the information of some fulurechanec-reader,—that in consequence ofthe
election of His Excellency Governor Davis to the Senate of the U. S. in February,
the chair of stale was filled during the re.sidue of the political year by His
Honor Lieutenant Governor Armstrong. The latter having been chosen Mayor of
the city of Boston, entered upon the duties of that office on the first Monday in Jan¬
uary, 1836, but continued to preside in the Executive Government of the Comnuin-
wealth until his successor, Governor Everett, was duly inducted into the chief
magistracy. This was on Wednesday, 13ih January. Accordingly, on the day
of General Election, (Jan. 6th) Li. Gov. Armstrong exhibited the rare spectacle
of an individual combining in his person, at one and the same time, the triple
offices of acting Governor of the State, (of course, Commander in Chief,)—Lieu*
tenant Governor, by his own right—and Mayor of the metropolis.
67
Well as those of piety» virtue and humanity will be
zealously aided and befriended; that the public
welfare, wisely discerned and steadily pursued, will
be the grand and successful aim of his ardent solici¬
tudes ; and that his administration will be as blest
in future realizations, as it is bright in present
promises, of extensive and durable usefulness.
The Honorable Council and the members of the
two branches of the Honorable Legislature will
please to accept the respectful salutations of one
who shares in the gratulatory sentiments of the
community at large, that the government of the
state in all its branches is entrusted to able hands
•—men of wise heads and honest hearts—who
doubtless will watch over with fidelity, and man¬
age with prudence and sound discretion, the im¬
portant interests committed to their charge. But
pardon. Brethren and Fathers, pardon the solemn
earnestness of the voice that adjures you never
to forget the amount of stake involved in those
interests. Remember that you hold in qualified
trust the welfare and happiness of the present and
coming generations. Your measures of policy, your
legislative acts, may tell by the chain of lengthening
consequences on the fortunes of a far distant age.
Agencies, commenced at a point in time, may
stretch their undulating circles over an illimitable
expanse. They may sweep their mighty segments
across the tide of human existence and human affairs
at points that lie hid by their remoteness afar from
68
mortal ken and forethought. Man is ephemeral;
but not man's influence, nor yet his responsibility.
I have glanced at the spectacle as no* less inter¬
esting than sublime, — a people on their bended
knees imploring the blessing of the God of their
forefathers. But more deeply solemn is the thought,
that we, who present this act of homage in the pres¬
ence of Him before whom empires are bubbles and
worlds are atoms, form but a moving group in the
long procession of years and generations,—connect¬
ing the shadowy past with the dim and uncertain
future,—ourselves but transient figures,—here to¬
day, anon to remove and be gone. Two hundred
congregations, on as many anniversaries, have suc¬
cessively gathered to worship in this city of our
solemnities, on the recurrence of the self-same occa¬
sion we have come to celebrate.* But how changed
* The precise number of these religious assemblages on all the days of General
Election, Is believed to be two hundred and four. 7'he ârst Election Sermon was
preached in 1631 ^ and there is no reason to suppose that the service was ever aAer-
wards omitted except in the years 175:2 and 1764, when the small pox prevailed in
Boston. Once indeed it was preached to Convention, and not before the Execu¬
tive Government,—namely, on the deposkion of Andros in 1689. But in 1775, two
Election Sermons were preached—one of them before the Provincial Congress
in May, and the other before the General Court in July. This was at Water-
town. Thrice previously, these discourses bad been delivered in Cambridge.
Deducting therefore these four years for the change of place, and the two years of
Cfi/ire omission of religious exercises in consequence of the prevalence of small
pox, it leaves the number, (estimated from 1630,) exactly Two Hundred, in which
the annual Election Sermon has been preached in Boston.
In proof of the unbroken series, (with the exceptions named,) of thèse religious
celebrations, I am happy in being able to cite the impressions of a gentleman of
distinguished accuracy and research, the Rev. Dr Peirce of ßrookline. In a com¬
munication received from him whilst these sheets were passing through the press,
he remarks I have no evidence that an Election Sermon ever failed, except in
the cases, and for the reasons, specified in the list of 1809. Nor does it appear
that an Election Sermon was ever delivered, which was not printed.''
69
the scene, contrasted with the era w'hen our pious
«
ancestors first met to pay their votive ofTerings, on
laying the foundations of the governmeiit! They
convened within no gorgeous temple, 'but under the
thached roof of a poor, mud-walled chapel. And
they came with arms in their hands ; and mothers,
—in dread of savage yells, or the rustling flight of
murderous arrows,—prest their babes more closely
to their breasts, at the startling note of the pass¬
ing sea-birds, or the whistling of the rude fitful
blasts. We meet in peace;—having no foes to
alarm us,—no weapons borne with us for defence to
the house of God. But the Fathers—the Fathers—
where are they ? Their venerable forms have long
since vanished as airy nothings, or the phantoms of
a dream. But their influence lives. Their princi¬
ples survive. The impress of their minds, their
characters and their acts is discernible or felt in
every scene and every object around us. Let us
cherish their spirit and emulate their virtues, that
the blessings we inherit may be transmitted unim¬
paired to our posterity. And oft as their hallowed
shades rising up through the mist of years shall
bend on fancy's vision, let us view them as a cloud
of witnesses that beckon us onward in the paths of
integrity, and usefulness, and honor;—bidding us
especially so to improve the fugitive moments of our
responsible being, that having served our generation
by the will of God, we may ascend at last to " the
true tabernacle" in the heavens which "the Lord
70
hath pitched and not man,"—and join the convoca¬
tion of the wise and good, collected from out of all
ages,—heirs in common of an immortal heritage—
the "Jerusalem which is above and free, the
mother of us all."
4
APPENDIX.
»
\
APPENDIX.
a LIST op those who have preached on this anniversary.
The following is added by desire of the Historical Society,
Gentlemen of information are requested to fill up the blanks.
Those who possess any Election Sermons, particularly for the
first century of Massachusetts, will benefit the public and pos¬
terity, by depositing them in the library of the Historical So¬
ciety, where they will be gratefully received and carefully pre¬
served. Those which were in that library in 1809, are
marked with a star.
«
N. B.—By comparing the ensuing table with that annexed
to the discourse of the Rev. Dr. Osgood, (in 1809,) it will
be perceived that a ^considerable number of blanks has been
filled up. In the column of names, between the years 1646
and 1717, fifteen déficiences are supplied ; in that of residen¬
ces, thirteen ; and ten more, under the head of texts or sub¬
jects. These interesting gleanings have been contributed by
the kindness of the friend mentioned on a former page—the
learned and Rev. Dr. John Pierce. The remainder of the
list since 1809 has been completed by another hand; and the
endeavor has been to render it scrupulously accurate. The
result is, that every preacher since 1691, and both every
preacher and text since 1697, have been ascertained and re¬
corded.
7
74
Tear.
BY WHOM.
OF WHAT PLACE.
TEXT.
SIZE.
1631
Rev
1632
16)3
1634
It
John Cotton, .
Boston, <
[Haggai, ii.4.*]
,
1631
1636
1637
tí
Thomas Shepard, .
Newtown, • .
1638
163'J
1640
1641
it
Nathaniel Ward, .
Ipswich, .
<
•
1642
164;i
it
Ezekic) Rogers,
Rowley, .
1644
1645
1646
it
Edward Norris,
Salem,
;
•
1647
1643
it
Zechariah Symmes,
Charleslown,
1649
tt
Tilomas Cobbeii, .
Ipswich, •
.
1650
1651
1652
1653
1654
1655
Cambridge, ,
1656
n
Charles Clianncy.f .
.
•
1657
it
John Norton, .
Boston,
1658
it
Jonathan Milche)!, .
Cambridge,
.....
.
1659
it
John Eliot,
Roxbury, .
Psalm, Uxvii. 20,
.
1660
tt
Richard Mather, .
Dorche.sier,
,
1661
ti
*John Norton,
Boston, .
Jeremiah, xxz. 17, .
4io.
1662
do.
1663
ti
*John HIgginson, .
Salem,
! Kings, viii. 57,58,59
166 4
it
Richard Mather,
Dorchester,
llaggai, ii. 4. .
1665
it
Julin Kussel!. .
Uadley,
Psalm, cxxii. 2,
•
1666
a
Thomas (^obbeit, .
Ipswich, . ,
2 Chronicles, xv. 2, .
.
1667
a
^Jonathan Milihel,
Cambridge,
Nehemiah, ii. ID,
do.
1668
ft
* Wrn. 8ioughlon,|.
Dorchester,
Isaiah, ixiii 8, .
do.
1669
it
Jolm Dnvenpori, .
Boston,
2 Samuel, xxiii 3, .
•
1670
tt
Samuel Danlorth, .
*Jolni t^xenbridge, .
Roxbury, .
Matthew, xi. 7, 8, 9 .
12 mo.
1671
Bo.ston,
Hosea, viii. 4. .
1672
it
* Thomas Shepard,.
Charleslown,
Jeremiah, ib 31,
4to.
1673
it
*Urian Oakes.f
Cambridge,
Deut. xxxii. 2, .
do.
1674
tt
*Samuel I'orrey, .
We^'nioulh,
Revelation, ii. 5,
do.
1675
ti
— Moody, .
Judges, ii. 12, .
do.
1676
it
*\\ il!iatn Hubbard,
Ipswich,
1 Chronicles, xü. 32,
1677
it
Increase Mather, .
Boston,
1 Chronicles, xxviii. 9
do.
1678
it
Samuel Tlnlltps,
Rowley, .
1 Ttinoihy, ii- 2,
do.
1679
it
*James Allen,
Boston,
1 Kings, viii. 57,
1680
it
liulkle)',
1 Samuel, ii. 30,
1681
it
\\ illiam Rr msmead,
iM a ri borough, .
Jeremiah, vi. 8,
1682
tt
Samuel Willard,
Boston,
Jeremiah, xxvi. 12,13,
1683
tt
*San)uel Torrey,
Weymouth,
Dent, xxxii. 47,
4(0.
1684
tt
[Joliii] Hale, .
[Beverley.]
Haggai, ii. 4, .
do.
• What is included in brackets, has been added on probability, or without positive authority.
» Presidents of Harvard College. I Afterward Lieutenant Governor. j
75
Year.
BY WHOM.
OF WHAT'PLACK.
TEXT.
SIZE.
lf>85
Rev. *VVi!liam Adam«, .
[Dedbam,]
í-íalalí, Ixvi. 2, .
4io.
16«6
" Mic4 VVigglesworih,
iVluldcii, .
Revelations, ii. 4, ..
do.
1687
1688
1639
" *rotton Mather,* .
Boston,
2Chron.xv. 2.
12 mo.
1690
" *Cot(on Mather,
Boston, .
Nebetniah, v. 19,
do.
1691
1692
" [Joshua] Moodey, .
[Rosloii,] .
• • • • •
«
1693
" *liicrease Mather, .
Boston,
Isaiah. Î 26,
4to.
1694
*áamiiel Willard, .
Boston,
Wny mouth,
2 Samuel, xxiii. 3, .
12 mo.
1690
" *Samuel Torrey, .
Hosea, i 7, .
do.
1696
" Cotton Mather,
Boston,
1 Samuel, vii. 6—10,
»
1097
[John] D>»ii(orth, .
[Dorchester] .
• • • ■ •
■
1698
^Nicholas Noyes, .
Salem,
Jeremiah, xxxi. 23, .
12 ino.
1699
w '
Increase Mather, .
Boston,
1 Samuel. 1«. 30,
•
1700
*Coiton Mather,
Boston, .
Psalm, rxlvli. 2,
12 mo.
1701
Joseph Belcher,
Dcdham, .
Job, XXIX. 25, .
do.
1702
" Increase Mather, .
Boston,
Esther, x 3, .
do.
1703
Solomon Stodilard,
Nortiiamptoii, .
Exo'lus, XX. 12,
•
1704
" ^Jonathan Russell. .
Banistahle,
Nehcmiali, ix 33,
4to.
170Ô
*J Estabrooks, A M.
Concorjl, •
Genesis, xii. 2, .
do
1706
*' John Rogers, "
Ip>wirh, . ,
1 Kings, viii. 57, 58,
12 mo.
1707
" Samuel Belcher, .
Newl>ury, .
Matthew, vi. 10,
do.
1708
" John Norton, .
Hingham, .
Numbers, xiv. 11,
do.
1709
G. Rawson, A. M. .
Meudon, .
Jeremiah, xiii 16, .
do.
1710
" *El>en. Pemberton.
Boston, .
Psalm, Ixxxii. 6, 7, .
do.
1711
" Pel. 'l'hacher, A. M.
Milton
Isaiah. Ivii. IB. .
do.
1712
" Santiiel Cheever, .
Marblehead,
I'salm, xxii. 27,23, .
do.
1713
" Samuel Treat,
" Samuel Danforih, .
Easiham, .
Psalm, ii. 8,
•
17i4
Taunton, .
Psalm, Ixxx. 14,
12 mo.
1715
Jer. Shepard, A. M.
Lynn,
Isaiah, Ixiii. 12,
do.
1716
" Benja. Wadsworih,
Boston,
Psalm. Ixxviii. *72, .
do.
1717
" Roland Cotton,
Sandwich,
Ecclesiastes, xii. 13,
do.
1718
Benj. Colman, A. M.
Boston,
Nehemiab, v. 19,
do.
1719
n *VVm Williams, "
Hatfield, .
Judges, ii. 2, .
do.
1720
'• Nathantcl Stone, .
Harwich, .
Romans, xiii. 3,
do.
1721
" *Sam. Moodey,A M.
York,
Luke, iv. 14, 15,
do.
1722
" John Hancock,t "
Lexington,
Luke, xxii 25,.
do.
1723
Benjamin Colman, .
Boston,
1 Chron. xxviii. 8, .
do.
1724
Joseph Sevvall,
Boston,
Roxbury, .
2 Samuel, xxiii. 3,4,
do.
1725
" Eben Thayer, A. M
Jeremiah, vi. 8.
do.
1726
" Peter Thacher, "
Boston,
Psalm, Ixxvil. 20,
do.
17 ¿7
Joseph Baxter, M. A.
Medfield, .
1 Timothy, ii. 1, 2, .
do.
1728
" Robert Rreck,A. M.
Marlborough, ,
Deul. V. 29,
do.
1729
" Jerem. Wise, M. A.
Berwick, .
R<imans, xiii 4,
8vo
1730
Thos. Prince,
Boston,
I Samuel ii. 6, 7,
do.
173!
Samuel Fiske, "
Salem,
Psalm, ci. 6, .
do.
1732
" Jolin Swift, "
Framingham, .
Luke, xiii. 9, .
do.
1733
" Sam. Wigglesworth,
Ipswich, .
Rev. iii. 1, 2, .
do.
* To Convention, after Andros was deposed.
^ From this period, the serie« is nearly complete ; and several duplicates are in the posses¬
sion of the Society, which they would be happy to change for any rare or curious historical
tracts. Among the few which are wanting, the Sermon for 173U is lost or mislaid, anda copy
would be very gratefully acknowledged,
76
Year.
1735
173r)
1737
173H
17.5y
1740
1741
17-12
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752*
1753
1754
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764*
1765
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
177!
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
Rev. John Barnard, A. M
J'»hii PrenlK'e,
Kclw. H«l\oko, M. A
Krael Loring, A. M.
John Webb, M A .
Beter f larke, A. M.
Wm. CfMiper, **
Wm. Williams, M. A.
N. Appletoii, A. M
Naih. Eells, V. D. M
J. Allin, V. D. M. .
Eben. G-iy, A. Al. .
John Barnard. Al A.
Ch. Chauiieey, D. D.
Daniel Lewis. A M.
N\ illiam Bak'h, "
Sam'l Phillips,
Wm. Welsieed, "
le
John Colion,
Jona. Mnyhew, D. D.
ÍS. Checkley, A. M.
Sani'l Cooper, "
Ebenezer I'emberton.
'I'bomas Friuk, A. M.
Jos Parsons,
Samiu I Dunbar,
Benj Stevens,
Ab'm Williams,
Thos. Barnard,
44
44
44
44
44
Andrew Eliot,
Edw. Barnard,
Eben Bridge,
Daniel f'bnle,
JdSoH Haven,
Samuel Cooke,f
John Tufker.t
Moses Parsons,!
Charles Turner,
Gad Hitchcock,
S. Eangdon, D
Willi.iin Gordon,^
Samuel West, A. M.
Sam'l Webster,
Phillips Payson,
Samuel Slillman, "
Simeon Howard,
ti
44
44
44
«
44
44
44
44
44
D.Í
U
It
OP WHAT PLACE.
TEXT,
SIZB.
Marblehead,
Proveibs, xvi. 12,
8vo
Lancaster,
2Chron xvii 3,4,5,6
do.
Marblehead,
Neiiemiah, vii. 2,
do.
Sudbury, .
Rev. ii. 5,
do.
íto^tnU,
Lsaiah, ix. G,
do.
Salem.
Hovca, xi. 12, .
do.
Boston, .
Psalm, ii lu, 11, 12,
do.
Weston, .
Zech. xii. 5, •
do.
Cambridge,
Psalm, Ixxii. 1. 2, 3,
do.
Scituaic, .
Deut. xxxii. 47,
do.
Brookline,
i>aiah, vi. 1,
do.
Hingham,.
2 Samuel, xxi. 17, .
do.
Andover, .
Psalm ixxxii. 1,
do.
Boston,
2 Samuel, xxüí 3, .
do.
Pembroke,
Isaiah, xxii. 21,
do.
Bradford, .
Andover, .
Psalm, cxxii. 6, 7,8,9
do.
Prov. viii. 15, l6,
do.
Boston,
Psalm, xlvii. 9^
do.
Newton, ..
Isaiah, xxxiii. 6,
do.
Boston,
Matthew, xxv. 21, .
do.
Boston,
Zeplianiah, i 15,
do.
Boston,
Heb. xi. 24, 25, 26, .
do.
Boston,
Deut. V. 29,
do.
Rutland, .
Isaiah, xxxii. 1, 2, .
do.
Bradford, .
Esther, X. 3, .
do.
SloughtoD,
2 Chron xv. 1, 2, .
do.
Kiitery, ,
2Cor. iii. 17, .
do.
Sandwich,
1 Cor. xii. 25, .
do.
Salem,
Judges, ix. 7 to 15, .
do.
do.
Boston,
1 Chron. xii. 32,
do.
Haverhill, . .
Neh. V. 19.
do.
Chelmsford,
Deui. xxxiii. 39,
do.
Hinsham,.
Ezra, X. 4,
do.
Dcdham, .
Psalm, Ixxv. 6, 7,
do.
Cambridg'e,
2 Sam. xxiii. 3, 4, .
do.
Newbury, .
lPel.ii.l3,14.15,16,
do.
Newbury-Falls,
Proverbs, xxi. 1,
do.
Duxbury, .
Homan.s, xiii. 4,
do.
Pembroke^
Proverbs, xxix. 2, .
do.
Cambridge,
Isaiah, i. 26,
do.
Roxbury, .
Jeremiah, xxx. 20,21,
do.
Dartmouth,
Titus, iii. 1,
do.
Salisbury, .
Ezekiel, xlv. 8, 9, .
do.
Chelsea, .
Galatians, iv. 26, 31,
do.
Boston,
Matthew, xxii. 21, .
do.
Boslou,
£Jxodus, xviii. 21, .
do.
♦Small Pox in Boston—no Sermon preached.
t At Cambridge.
I President of Harvard College. Preached before the Provincial Congress, at WatertowDr
May 81.
•
§ Preached before the General Court at Watertown, on the I9th Ju^j, on their assemblinff»
ngreeubiy to the advice of Congress, for the choice of Counsellors.
77
Tear.
BY WHOM.
OP WHAT PLACE.
1781
1782
1783
1284
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
179.1
1794.
1795
179i>
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
18Ü7
1808
1809
Rev. Jonas Clarke, A. M.
Zabdiel Adams, "
Henry Cumings. "
Mo^es Hernmenwuy,
VVm. Symmes, A. M.
Samuel Wesi, "
Josei'li Lyman,
David Parsons, A. M.
Josiah lliidge,
Daniel Fosier, A. M.
Cliand. Robbins, '*
David Tappan, "
Sam. Parker, D. D.
Sam. Deane, "
Perez Forbes, LL. D.
Jona. French, A. M
John Meilen, Jr.
Naih Emmons, A. M.
Paul Coffin,
Jos. M Keen,
Aaron Bancroft,
7'h»s. Baldwin, A.M.
Reuben Puffer,
Sam. Kendall, A. M.
John Allyn,
Sam. Shepard, A. M.
Wm. Bentley,
Thomas Allen,
David Osgood, D. D
4i
Lexington,
Lunenburg,
Billerica,
Wells,
Andover,
Needham,
llaifíeld,
Amherst,
East Sudbury, .
New Braintree,.
Plymouth,
Newbury,
Boston,
Portland,
Rayiihain,
Andover,
Barnstable
Franklin,
Buxton,
Beverly,
Worcester,
Boston,
Berlin,
Weston,
Duxborough,
Lenox,
Salem,
Pitls6eld,
Medford,
TEXT,
SIZE.
Psalm, xlvii. 8, 9,
Ecclesiasles, viü. 4,
1 Peler, v. 5, .
Gnlatians, v. 13,
1 Chron. xxviii. 8,
Matthew, xx. 27,
Romans, xiii. 4,
Proverbs, xxiv. 2,
Psalm, Ixxxii. 1,
Proverbs viii. 16,
2 ChroH. xii. 12,
Psalm, Ixxvii. 20,
Proverbs, xiv. 34,
Proverbs, iii. 6,
2 Peter, ii. 10, 12,
Romans, xiii. 5,
1 Peter, ii. 15, .
Daniel, vi. 28, ,
2 Samuel, xxi. 17,
Alatthcw, V. 14,
Isaiah, ix. 21, 22,
1 Peter, ¡i. 16, .
Luke, xix. 44, .
Dout. xxxii. 46,47,
Hom.x. 1, 6c ix 1,2,
1 Chron. xxix. 12,
Deut. xxxiii. 3,
1 'i'iinoihy, iv. 8,
Judges, ix. 56,57,
8vo
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
do.
lÂst of Prtachera continued from and after 1809.
1810 Rev. Elijah Parish, D. D.
1811 Thos.Thacher, A. M.
1812 " Edmund Foster,
1813 « William Alien, D. D.
lol4 Jesse Appleion,
1815 " James Flint,
1816 " John T. Kirkiand,"
1817 Thomas Sneil, "
1818 Zeph. S. Moore, "
1819 " Peter Eaton, "
1820 " William Jenks, "
1821 " Henry Ware,
D:22 " D. Huntington, A. M.
1823 Naihl. 'l hayer, D. D.
1824 Daniel Sharp, "
1825 " Wm. B. Sprague, "
1826 " Orville Dewey, A. M.
1827 " Mos. Stuart, S. T. P.
1828 " James Walker, D. D.
1829 " Wilbur Fisk, "
1830 W. E. Channing,
M
ii
Byfield,
Dedham, .
Littleton, .
Piitsfíeld, .
Brunswick,
E. Jîridgewaler,
Harvard Univ. .
N. Brookfieid, ,
Amherst, . .
Boxford, .
Boston,
Harvard Univ. .
H ad ley, . ,
Lancaster,
Boston, •
WestSpiingfield,
New Bedford, ,
Andover, .
Charlcstown,
Wilbraham,
Boston,
Romans, xiii. iv,
Judges, viii. 23,24,
ICor.xii. IS. 19,20,21
John, xviii. 36. .
Isaiah, xxxiii. 6,
Deut. iv. 9,
Psalms, cvi. 45,
Isaiah, iv. 5, .
Mark, ii. 27, 28,
Romans, iii. 1,2,
2 Cor. iii. 17, .
Acts, xvii. 26) .
Acts, xviii. 14,15,
Deut. xxvi. 19,
Jer. XXX. 19, 20, 21
Luke, xii. 48, .
Psalms, Ixxxiii. 2, S
2 Cor. xiii. 17)
Exodus, xviii. 21,
1 Peter, iv. 7. .
John, viii. 31, 32,36,
Svo
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Year.
BY WHOM.
OP WHAT PLACE.
TEXT.
SIZE.
18^1
Rev. L. WithiDgton, A. M.
Ncwburyport, ,
Titus, ii. 15,
8vo
1832
Paul Dean,
Bosion,
Romans, xiii. 1,
do.
1833
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W.B.O.Peabody,AR1
Springfield,
w ^
Acts, xxii. 28, .
do.
1834
((
J. W. Yeomaiis, "
Pitisfield, . .
Matthew, vi. 33,
do.
1335
((
J.M. Wain Wright, DD
Rosien,
W w
Deui. XV. 11,
do.
1836
€f
Andw. Bigeiow,A.M.
TauDtoD, .
Exodus, xiv. 15,
do.
4
ERRATA.
Page S8, line 4th, (Note,) for " his own times," read his times.
** 47, top line, for ''judicially," read Judiciously.
SERMON
DELIVERED AT THE
ANNUAL ELECTION
ON WEDNESUAY, JANUAKY 4,1837,
BEFORE
HIS EXCELLENCY EDWARD EVERETT,
GOVERNOR,
HIS HONOR GEORGE HULL,
LIEUTENANT GOVERNOR,
THE HONORABLE COUNCIL,
AND
TflE LEGISLATURE OF MASSACHUSETTS.
BY DANIEL DANA, D D.
PftBtor of a Church in NewbuiTport.
Ißoüiton:
DDTTOlf AîfD WENTWORTH, PRINTERS TO THE STATE.
•iè37.
4
dtommontoealtl) of ^aHsacl)u0etts.
in senate, january 5, 1837.
Ordered, That Messrs. Kimball, Childs, and H. Williams, be a Committee
to present the thanks of the Senate to the Rev. Daniel Dana, D. D. for the dis¬
course yesterday delivered by him before the Government of the Commonwealth,
and to request a copy for publication.
Attest,
CHA'S CALHOUN, Clerk.
SERMON.
Revelation, xxii. 2.
AND THE LEAVES OF THE TREE "WERE FOR THE HEALING OF THE NATIONS.
This is a great and auspicious day. It beholds
the Fathers of the Commonwealth assembled to
exercise its sovereign powers ; to devise the means
to perpetuate its liberties, and promote its order,
and its happiness. It sees them bending before the
throne of the Supreme Being, in grateful acknow¬
ledgment of his past protection and beneficence,
and in humble supplication for his continued guid¬
ance and care. No attitude could be more suitable.
None more truly dignified. Where is the commu¬
nity on which the sun looks down, equally pressed
with the delightful debt of gratitude, as ours ?
Where is the community distinguished by the Ab'
mighty Governor of the world, with such an im¬
mense aggregate of privileges?—privileges to be
continued and extended by his favor, or blighted
»
and lost by his frown.
1*
6
Does the question arise ; How may the first of
these issues be secured, and the other averted 1
This question has already received its response
from the heavenly Oracle. The passage which
has been recited, points, indeed, directly at the spir¬
itual and immortal salvation of man ; and this, as
effected by the religion of Christ. Still, as this
religion, the only hope of man for eternity, looks
with the kindest aspect on his present state of be¬
ing ; since it sheds an influence not less benign on
his social and political, than his individual condition,
I shall be permitted, on the present occasion, to
consider the subject principally in this view.
I invite, then, the attention of my respected au¬
dience, to religion, as the supreme blessing
of communities; as the most powerful of all
agents in effecting their best prosperity, and in
eradicating or controlling the evils to which they
are liable. The discussion, though somewhat gen¬
eral in its aspect, will keep in particular view our
own Commonwealth and Country.
In contemplating the elements of national pros¬
perity, we pay a first and marked attention to liberty;
a theme ever grateful to the sons of the pilgrims ;
and never uninteresting to the members of the only
genuine republic on earth. Whether civil and po¬
litical liberty is a blessing attainable by man, or
7
only one 'of those splendid illusions destined to
mock his hopes with disappointment, is considered
by many as a problem yet unsolved. By many, the
experiment which our own country has been mak¬
ing, for somewhat more than half a century, is con¬
sidered as promising the long desired solution.
One thing is certain. That liberty which frequent¬
ly bears the name, is a thing neither practicable nor
desirable. I mean a liberty consisting in the ab¬
sence of all restraint, and the contempt of all con¬
trol. No such curse as this has all-bounteous
Heaven ever designed to inflict on the human fam¬
ily. No evil more unmitigated, and more intense,,
could be emitted to our earth from the very regions
of despair. Man was not born to be independent,
either of his Maker, or his fellow beings. Nations
were not created to be independent, either of the
Sovereign of the world, or of one another. The
genuine happiness, and the genuine liberty of all
finite beings depends on a portion of restraint.
Who that has entered a family, governed with a
due mixture of kindness and energy, has failed to
perceive the fact, in the calm and happy counte¬
nances of its members ? Who that has entered a
school, misgoverned and insubordinate, has not
found its pupils as far from enjoyment, as from
peace and decorum ?
8
We believe there is a liberty in communities and
states, which is rational, chastened, guarded, salu¬
tary and practicable ; a liberty the nurse of genius ;
the parent of great designs, and noble enterprises ;
the friend of order, of justice and ,humanity. We
trust in God, that a liberty of this exalted character
is yet to diffuse its nameless and exuberant bless¬
ings throughout the globe. And where is the pa¬
triot bosom which does not beat with intense desire
that, on this subject, America may become the in¬
structress of the world ; that her original and suc¬
cessful experiment may every where send terror to
the hearts of tyrants, and hope and joy to subjuga¬
ted and despairing nations ?
Yes; we will cherish this inspiring hope. But
for its accomplishment, we look, as we frankly con¬
fess, not to the boasted perfectibility of man; not
to the dreams of philosophers, nor to the sanguine
and plausible calculations of politicians. We do not
look to the great modern discovery of the doctrine
of checks and balances; a discovery of which, with all
its pretensions, and all its real merits, it may be too
truly said, that, like many other discoveries, it has
performed materially less than it promised. Nor do
we look, for the consummation in view, to the supe¬
rior general illumination of the present age, or of
ages to come. All observation, all experience, all
9
history prove to demonstration, how feeble is the
resistance made by mere knowledge, to the progress
of moral corruption; that corruption which is death,
inevitable death, to the liberties of any people. If
any of the nations of the ancient world may be
pronounced free, they were the republics of Greece
and Rome. And when did these boasted republics
lose their liberties ? At the very period when
their improvements in art, in science, in eloquence,
in the splendors and luxuries of living, rendered
them the gaze and admiration of the world.
If, in New England, and in these United States,
the experiment of liberty has been hitherto more
successful, we know the cause. The settlement
of New England was a religious settlement. The
United States are a Christian nation. Through the
length and breadth of our country, are enjoyed, in
a greater or less degree, the instructions and ordi¬
nances of that gospel which teaches man to govern
himself, and thus renders him fit to be trusted with
a generous portion of civil and political liberty.
Christianity is the only religion which the world
has yet seen, which renders it at once practicable
and safe for a people to be free. Laying all men
prostrate on one common level, as sinners; prof¬
fering to them all a part in one common and great
salvation, and summoning them all to one common
10
bar of impartial judgment, and eternal retribution,
it inculcates a species of universal equality. It
teaches, at least, that all secular and civil distinc¬
tions are mere trifles, compared with the relation in
which every member of the community stands to
God, and to eternity. Thus it prepares the way
for as equal a participation of rights and privileges,
as reason demands, or the case admits. In the
mean time, it eminently favors the preservation of
liberty. It reminds every member of the communi¬
ty that his civil privileges are a sacred trust, invol¬
ving a high responsibility, and succeeded by a sol¬
emn account. It presents him, in every step of his
4
path, with a holy and all-surrounding Deity. It oc¬
cupies the mind with great and ennobling thoughts
It fills the heart with pure and purifying sentiments.
It inspires universal conscientiousness of conduct.
It connects time with eternity, and earth with hea¬
ven. These are some of the methods in which
Christianity tends to restrain the excesses of lib¬
erty, and prevent its degenerating to absolute licen¬
tiousness.
But Christianity, while it promotes and restrains
and perpetuates the liberties of a people, is not less
decisively favorable to the energy of government. It
reminds the citizens that civil rulers, duly elected
or appointed, are ordained by God ; and that to
11
resist them in the proper exercise of their author¬
ity, is to resist the ordinance of God. This, surely,
does not invest rulers with omniscience, or infalli¬
bility. Still less does it justify or palliate any mis¬
use of their powers. The sacredness of their office
renders its prostitution but the more criminal.
And it would be at once absurd and impious to
suppose that the God of heaven will sanction their
acts, when they contravene his own authority.
Still, the fact, that in the regular and right exer¬
cise of their high functions, they act in the name,
and by the authority of God, is a fact of great
significance. Conscientious and reflecting men will
beware how they oppose such an one in the dis¬
charge of his duties ; how they vilify his character,
or sport with his sensibilities, or mar his just influ¬
ence. And while they exercise an independent
judgment, and a just discrimination, concerning ru¬
lers, they will beware of inflicting on their reputa¬
tions or feelings a wanton injury. The reckless
and inhuman severity with which public men are
sometimes treated, is in every view unjustifiable.
As it regards those who are honestly devoting
themselves to the good of the community, it is un¬
grateful and cruel. And the injury done to the
public may be greater still. The direct eflfect of
such severity is to drive from office the best men,
12
and fill the places of trust and honor with men of
callous and vulgar feelings. On the other hand,
the just honor and gratitude which is paid to the
upright and meritorious ruler, recoils, with a medi¬
cinal eifect, on the community. While it soothes
the cares of office, and rewards virtuous exertion,
it gives a healthful tone to the public morals, and
secures to the government the affections of the
people.
There is another method in which religion con¬
tributes its infiuence to the energy of government.
It forms rulers to the very character which is cal¬
culated to command the confidence and veneration
of the community. It is true, there are other paths
to public honor, than those of virtue and merit.
"In the corrupted currents of this world," ambi¬
tion, selfishness, artifice, may find their way to the
very highest places of the state. Still, the world is
not yet so bad, but that there is one meed which
virtue alone can purchase ; I mean, the honest
esteem and love of the community. And how
truly venerable the ruler whose character is formed
on the model supplied by the Sacred Volume.
Entering on office with diffidence, perhaps with
reluctance, he still makes a cheerful consecration
of his faculties, his affections and solicitudes to the
public good. Acting as under the eye of God,
13
and leaning on his arm ; imploring his aid, and
anxious only for his approbation, he calmly pursues
a plain and straight-forward path. Not the dic¬
tates of ambition, or of interest ; of party feeling,
or state chicanery ; not the ever changing opinion
of the multitude ; but his Makerh law]; the eternal,
unchanging principles of truth and rectitude ; these,
these are evermore the guides and measures of his
conduct.
Who does not see that rulers of this description
are the strength, the riches, the glory of the state ?
Their characters command universal respect ; their
measures, universal confidence. They are enthron¬
ed in the hearts of the virtuous portion of the com¬
munity. The influence which they send abroad
through society is most precious and salutary. It
strengthens and unites the good. It appals licen¬
tiousness and vice. It paralyzes faction. It re¬
fines the public sentiment. It elevates the tone
of public morals. It dries up a thousand sources
of evil, and purifies society to its very fountain.
Thus firmness, consistency and energy are secured
to the government, and real happiness to the peo¬
ple.
It were easy to prove that Christianity is friendly
to the best and wisest legislation, and to the purest
administration of justice. We contend not that it
2
14
prescribes to mankind any particular forms of gov¬
ernment, or any codes of civil or criminal law, or
any rules of judicial proceedings. The Sacred Vol¬
ume was given to us for far different purposes.
Finding the human family in a state of revolt from
the Father and Sovereign of the world, it discloses
a method of return and reconciliation. In this dis¬
closure, it brings to view the great principles of
the divine administration as they regard our world ;
and thus communicates instruction important to the
best temporal interests of man. Admit the simple
and undeniable truth, that the government of God
is perfect, and it follows with the certainty of de¬
monstration, that that human government is best,
which in its principles and spirit, makes the nearest
approach to the divine. Here, then, is a pattern,
a guide, a test, for earthly legislation. Can it be
doubted, a moment, that the legislator who, in sim¬
plicity, brings his mind and heart to the Sacred
Volume ; who makes it his daily study, and his
nightly meditation, will find, in this process, the
happiest preparation for his arduous and responsi¬
ble work ? In this Volume are embodied the pro-
foundest principles of truth, the most exalted max¬
ims of justice, the most delicate shades of morality,
the most accurate distinctions between right and
wrong ; and all presented with an inimitable sim-
15
plicity, all rendered comprehensible to every inteU
lect, and all commending themselves to every con¬
science. Let these characteristics be transfused
into the laws of a community ; let these lovely fea¬
tures be inst^imped on its statute book ; and will it
not be a highly favored, will it not be an excellent¬
ly governed community ? Will not every individ¬
ual composing it, be led to feel that his submission
is required, not so much to the wisdom and author¬
ity of earth, as of Heaven ? And will not every
requisition of the law find a response of approbation
in his own bosom ?
*
It is confessed that human legislation is, from the
very nature of the case, imperfect. Often it can
take but a very partial cognizance of the inten¬
tions and motives of men. Yet should it not at
least attempt an approximation to this point ? And
will not its excellence and utility be generally pro¬
portioned to this approximation ? If, in many ca¬
ses, its animadversion on crimes be predicated less
on their moral turpitude, than their tendency to the
public injury, should it not beware lest a distinction
and a contrast of this kind be sometimes found fac¬
titious and false ? And if its principal object be
to form citizens, rather of an earthly, than a hea¬
venly community, should it not remember, how
16
often there will be found, in the two cases, a strong
analogy, if not an entire coincidence ?
We wish for no state religion ; no legal prescrip-
tion of articles of faith, or liturgies ; no governmen¬
tal preference of particular sects or denominations.
We shrink from every approach to such abuses.
Our puritan fathers, with the best and holiest of
motives, instituted a connexion somewhat too inti¬
mate, between church and state. We have seen
their error, and have discarded it. Yet is there
not an opposite extreme ? And is there no possi¬
bility, no danger, of plunging into it ? Grant that
religion can subsist without the state ; does not the
question still remain ; Can the state subsist without
*
religion ? If the state has little to give to religion,
still may it not receive from it the most substantial
benefits ? If Christianity embraces institutions and
usages which constitute the surest basis, and the
best cement of human society ; shall the fact, that
these institutions and usages came from heaven, de¬
prive them of the countenance of government, and
exclude them from the pale of its protection ?
N
" The sabbath was made for man." And scarce-
I
ly has the munificence of Heaven itself bestowed on
man, or on society, a kinder, richer gift. Well
may New England glory in the sabbath ; for it has
made New England what it is ; the fairest spot on
17
earth. Well may our country glory in the sab¬
bath ; for with the sabbath, its most valued distinc¬
tions, its most ennobling characteristics, have arisen
and continued ; and with it, they will expire. It
is appalling to think how surely and how rapidly a
f
community, long blest with the light of revelation,
may, in the absence of the sabbath, sink into a spe¬
cies of heathenism ; sink, indeed, into a depth of
depravity and licentiousness at which ordinary hea¬
thens and savages would blush. That the sabbath
has still a name and a place in the statute book of
our Commonwealth, is consoling to the patriot
heart. And every patriot heart wishes, in its be¬
half, that substantial and efficient protection, and
that only, which its own importance claims, and
which is demanded by the best interests bf social
order, of public virtue, of the rising youth, and the
whole community.
The churches of Christ are likewise recognised
by our laws, as real entities; as possessing a distinct
existence, and important, inalienable rights. We
trust that they will rise from their present depres¬
sions. We will not resign the hope, that these
powerless, harmless societies will yet, under the
auspices of Christian legislators, and under the pro¬
tecting aegis of impartial law, enjoy and exercise
their sacred rights, and just privileges.
o#
18
It is a subject of satisfaction that our civil and
criminal code contains so much that is excellent,
and so little that is exceptionable ; that it furnishes
to the citizens such effectual security for their
rights, and such ample redress for their wrongs ;
and that in the punishment of crimes, it so general¬
ly unites mercy with justice, mildness with vigor
and effect. I will not, for a moment, compare it
with the codes of nations thé most imformed, in
ancient times or modern, on which the sun of Chris¬
tianity has never shone. The difference is immense
and indescribable. And when this religion shall
have breathed into our laws a still greater portion
of its own pure, benevolent, exalted spirit, there
will be little left for patriotism or philanthropy to
desire. We shall be, in this regard, the most fa¬
vored community on earth.
Nor may we omit the tribute of gratitude due to
the Legislature, for its provident care in furnishing
to the ' citizens of the Commonwealth, a revised
edition of its statutes, condensed into a single vol¬
ume. It was just what the public exigencies re¬
quired. Next in importance to the justice of the
laws, in a community, is the extent of their diffu¬
sion, and the facility of their comprehension. By
the recent measure, both these objects will be great¬
ly subserved. And may it not be confidently pre-
19
sumed that good laws, the more they are known,
will be the more commended to the consciences
and hearts of the citizens ; and that their violation
will be proportionably disreputable and infrequent.
But the best and wisest laws must be compara¬
tively valueless, unless soundly interpreted, impartially
applied, and faithfully executed. Immensely impor¬
tant, then, to a state, is the character of its courts
of judicature. They constitute the medium through
which justice or injustice finds its way to the bo¬
soms and fire-sides of the people. They are sig¬
nally the blessing or the curse of the community.
No words can describe the withering, blighting in¬
fluence on the public morals, order and happiness,
exercised by a single judge who fears not God ,
who prostitutes, perhaps, talents and learning, to
confound the immutable distinctions of right and
wrong ; whose decisions are the dictates, not of
truth, justice and law, but of caprice, prejudice, or
even gross corruption. His guilty life may be
short ; but he may poison the fountain of justice for
future ages. Behold now the contrast. Mark the
upright, the incorruptible judge. Hear him say, in
the consciousness of integrity, and in' the beautiful
language of Job ; "I put on righteousness, and it
clothed me ; my judgment was as a robe and a dia¬
dem. I was^ eyes to the blind, and feet was I to
20
the lame. I was a father to the poor ; and the
cause which I knew not, I searched out." Well
may he add, in the words of the same distinguished
man ; " When the ear heard me, then it blessed
me ; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to
me ; because I delivered the poor that cried, and
the fatherless, and him that had none to help him.
The blessing of him that was ready to perish came
upon me, and I caused the widow's heart to sing
for joy."
Such judges, blessed be God! have been found, in
former, and in recent time. Illustrious men! Wor¬
thy to be had in everlasting remembrance. Judges,
the terror of the wicked ; the hope and consolation
of the oppressed ; the light and ornament of their
country, and their species ; humble representatives,
on earth, of the righteous Judge of earth and hea¬
ven ; and honored instruments of difíusing his jus¬
tice and his beneficence among their fellow-men.
Yes ; such blessings have been found ; yet rarely,
except in a Christian community.
We have seen the auspicious infiuence of Chris¬
tianity on liberty, on government, on the laws, on
the administration of justice. But the principal
mode in which it blesses a community is yet un-
mentioned. I refer to its infiuence in forming the
character of its citizens.
21
Here I might speak of its intellectual aspects.
Nor would it be easy to do full justice, even to this
part of the subject. Rarely have the capacities of
the human mind received their full expansion, or its
sublime faculties their entire development, in re¬
gions unvisited by Revelation. In the absence of
this heavenly light, the intellectual powers lan¬
guish ; the mental faculties become torpid and inac¬
tive. Man vegetates, and breathes, and supplies
the wants of a mere animal existence, and grati¬
fies his sensual appetites ; and this is nearly all.
Turning from this humiliating spectacle, let us mark
the wonders achieved by the gospel of Christ.
This divine visitant speaks to man of the Being who
made him ; of his works, and his laws ; of his
boundless power, his exuberant goodness, his for¬
giving love, his universal presence. It speaks to
him of his own immortal destiny; of his moral ruin,
«
and his recovery ; of the present moment of life, as
stamping his whole eternity ; of worlds beyond the
grave, inconceivable in their joys, and in their
woes. These are the objects, these the disclo¬
sures, which break the slumbers of the intellect,
and rouse the torpid faculties to exertion. Con¬
scious of their influence, the mind walks abroad in
its energy, and seizes with a firmer grasp on the
variety of objects which surround it. Creation it-
22
»
self, viewed as the workmanship of God, is invested
with new attractions. Earth, air and sea, thus
contemplated, disclose new beauties, and new won¬
ders. While the secrets of the animal and vege¬
table and mineral kingdoms are explored with new
ardor, and almost with new sagacity. By the same
general impulse, even jhe inventions of art are
quickened ; and every improvement connected with
the comfort, or the ornament of human life, advanced.
If, with a map of the world before us, we survey
the existing condition of diflferent nations, we shall
find, that with the progress of Christianity,^ the
progress of every species, of human knowledge, use¬
ful and ornamental, has held an accurate corres¬
pondence. Where this heavenly light has shone,
there science, art and literature have diffused their
rich and varied blessings. Where its rays have
never penetrated, there ignorance, gross ignorance,
has generally held an undisturbed and iron empire.
But the moral influence of Christianity is still
more powerful, and more invaluable. Jt enjoins,
and it inspires those virtues which, while they form
the good man, form, too, the good citizen, and se¬
cure the peace, the order, and the happiness of the
community. Scarcely any other system of morals
or religion has even correctly told us what virtue is.
The ancient Greeks and Romans had no other term,
23
in their respective languages, by which to express
it, than a word which signifies courage. The fact
very significantly informs us that they considered
courage as constituting the essence of virtue. What
was that patriotism, so extolled and adored among
the^ Romans, but a blind and bigoted attachment to
their own country, which prompted them to tram¬
ple on the rights, and waste the happiness of all
others ? It would be difficult to find any system of
ethics, ancient or piodern, not based on Christiani¬
ty, or borrowed from it, which does not laud, or at
least tolerate, a variety of spuribiis and false virtues.
I might instance in pride, ambition, military glcrry, lit¬
erary vanity, admiration of wealth, contempt of the de¬
pressed aud suffering, jealousy of personal honor, re-
m
venge. But Christianity impartially frowns on all
these aberrations. Nor does it admit to its cata¬
logue of virtues, a single mental quality or disposi¬
tion which is so much as doubtful. All its distin¬
guishing tempers and affections go to constitute a
character the most pure, lovely, venerable and
sublime, the most benevolent and useful, that can
be conceived. What a paragon of all moral excel¬
lence, of all personal, social and divine virtue, was
the great Author and Exemplar of this religion.
And who does not see that it needs nothing but the
universal diffusion of his spirit, to render individuals
24
amiable, families harmonious, communities tranquil
and happy, and the whole world an abode of pure
and sublime enjoyment.
All the truths, the precepts and prohibitions of
Christianity shed the kindest influence on the best
interests of human society. As far as they prevail,
the tone of sentiment, and the standard of morals
are elevated. The public taste is reflned, and the
public manners are purifled and softened. Imagine
to yourselves, my hearers, for a moment, a commu¬
nity in which the sublimé and lovely virtues of
Christianity should be generally practised, and its
meek, benevolent, forgiving, self-sacrificing spirit
generally diffused. Is not the spectacle ' most de¬
lightful 7 Do you not see all those discordant ele¬
ments which ordinarily agitate society, hushed into
peace ? Do you not see all those passions ban¬
ished, which have so often wasted the comforts, and
embittered the calamities of life, and poisoned the
fountains of social enjoyment 1
Do you not see Paradise regained ? Do you not
perceive an air of heaven breathing on such a favor¬
ed region, and ready to waft its inhabitants to a
better world ?
All the institutions of Christianity, stamped as
they are with profound wisdom, indicate, in the
Deity, a most merciful regard to the social, as well
25
as individual exigencies of his human family. Of
the truth of this remark, the sacredness attached by
the gospel, to the marriage bond, is a striking in¬
stance. On this simple arrangement, depends no
small portion of the order, the peace, the comfort
and the virtue of human society. Let it be dis¬
carded, or materially modified, and an army of evils
is let loose upon the community, to deform its beau¬
ty, to corrupt its purity, to waste its enjoyments, and
undermine its very existence. Human legislators
have sometimes opposed their enactments to this
divine institution. But in doing this, they have
triñed not more with the authority of God, than
with the dearest interests of human society.
The weekly assemblages required by Christiani¬
ty, for the purpose of divine worship, and of reli¬
gious and moral instruction, constitute one of the
most prominent and delightful characteristics of
this religion. The enlightening, purifying, peace-
breathing influence of the practice is generally ac¬
knowledged. Nor, ought it to be forgotten, that to
a considerable portion of the community, these sea¬
sons afford the only refuge from care ; the only
solace for the calamities and miseries of life.
Surely that man must be a monster of cruelty, as
well as impiety, who, by blotting out the idea of a
God, and his worship, would deprive the poor and
3
26
the suffering of this precious relief. "We could
not," says one, "avoid feeling a compassion as
painful, as well founded, if, in considering the fate
of the greater number of men, we supposed them
all at once deprived of the only thought which sup¬
ported their courage. They would no more have a
God to confide their sorrows with. They would
no more attend his ordinances to search for the
sentiments of resignation and tranquillity. They
would have no motive for raising their looks to
heaven. Their eyes would be cast down ; fixed
for ever on this abode of grief, of death, and eternal
silence. Then despair would even stifle their groans ;
and all their reflections preying on themselves,
would only serve to corrode their hearts." Such
are the sentiments which were uttered by a French
writer,* about half a century since. And have
they not received a most aflecting comment in the
unparallelled prevalence among that nation, of the
crime of suicide ; contemporary, as it has been, with
a correspondent prevalence of infidelity and athe¬
ism ? t
* M. Necker. See his volume on the Importance of Religious Opinions.
t Of the value and importance of the sabbath to public menf we have an emphat*
ic testimony from a British Statesman; who was an ornament to his country and his
speeies^MR. Wilberforce. A respectable clergyman; who was honored with
his intimate acqumntance; declares : 1 have often heard him assert that he never
could have sustained the labor and the stretch of mind required in his early political
life, if it l\ad not been for the rest of his sabbath \ and that he could name several of
bis contemporaries in the vortex of political careS; whose minds had actually given
27
It may be inquired, perhaps, what is the proper
influence of religion on a people, in regard to its
foreign relations? What dispositions does it in¬
spire ? To what course of conduct does it proiflpt ?
What attitude will a nation truly and consistently
Christian, maintain with regard to foreign powers ;
and what treatment may it expect from them?—
The answer to these questions is at hand. Such a
nation, in its intercourse with every other nation,
will be simple, sincere, dignified, magnanimous.
It will neither basely cower to the most powerful of
foreign states, nor wrong the feeblest. Aloof from
the dark designs of ordinary cabinets, and spurning
the chicanery of vulgar diplomacy, it will speak as
it thinks and feels ; and will act as it speaks. All
its engagements will be literally fulfilled, and
while it firmly vindicates its own rights, it will as
scrupulously regard the rights of others. War it
will consider as the last dire resort ; to be avoided
by many a sacrifice ; to be met only in self defence,
and in defence of essential rights. It may be
thought that such a pacific disposition and policy
%
will but invite insult and injury ; perhaps, even
hostile aggression. But no. The nation whose
way under the stress of intellectual labor, so as to brio^ on a premature death, or
the still more dreadful catastrophe of insanity and suicide, who, humanly speakin«^,
might have been preserved in health, if they would have conscientiously observed
the sabbath."
i
28
abhorrence of blood proceeds, not from lameness
and pusillanimity, but from regard to the laws of
God (and surely nations are not above the laws of
Godj) will make itself respected, and will make
itself feared. " When a man's ways please the
Lord, He makes even his enemies to be at peace
with him." So says the wisdom of Heaven ; and
we bow to the wisdom of Heaven. And we believe
that this inspired declaration is just as true of na¬
tions, as of individuals. While there is a God in
heaven, and a conscience in the human breast, it
will be found that the nation which courageously
and uniformly acts the part of virtue and integrity,
acts the part of wisdom and sound policy. In this
age of experiments, who does not wish that Ameri¬
ca might stand forth to the world, and declare that
her allegiance shall be paid to the Sovereign of the
universe ; that spurning the wretched policy which
has hitherto governed earthly states, she takes the
laws of Heaven for her standard and her guide ?
The experiment would at least attract attention ;
for it would be as original as great ; and as great
as original. Would it not command universal re¬
spect and awe ? Is its complete and ultimate suc¬
cess at all doubtful ?
The view which has now been given, of the influ¬
ence of religion on the welfare of a stàte ; on liber-
29
ty, on the energy of government, on the laws, on
the distribution of justice, on the intelligence, the
habits and manners of the people, and on the char¬
acter of the nation abroad—is, I am sensible, ex¬
tremely imperfect. Still, that it is an influence
most auspicious and powerful, I cannot but hope,
has been made too evident to be denied, or doubted.
»
It remains that we notice, more distinctly, the ten¬
dency of religion to remove or control some of the
principal evils to which communities are liable.
This will be attempted with great brevity, and with
particular reference to the state and aspects of our
own beloved country.
The lust of wealth is one of the most powerful,
and most degrading propensities of the human mind.
This passion, which has been congenial with every
age, and every region of the world, finds peculiar
nutriment in our own land, at the present time
The vast resources of our country, the freedom of
our government, the wonderful improvements of the
age, with a variety of other causes, as they facilitate
the acquisition of wealth, are found to stimulate its
desire. Speculation, in a thousand forms, has be¬
come the very mania of the age. Nor do any ordi¬
nary acquisitions suffice. Men must become rich
on a new and extraordinary scale. But in all this,
there is danger ; danger if they succeed, and dan-
30
ger if they fail ; danger to individuals, and dangei
tQ the community. This moment, our country ij
deluged with crimes, and wounded in its vital inter
ests, and convulsed to its very centre, by the rag(
of thousands to be rich. And what shall arres
these enormous evils, and save the nation fron
ruin 1 Nothing can do it effectually, but the coun
sels of religion, and its enlightening, exalting, puri
fying power. It is an irrevocable law of the humar
mind, that a strong passion, once possessing it, car
be expelled only by a stronger. The heart of mar
$
knows but one principle stronger thari the love o
wealth ; and that is, the love of God. Who doe;
not wish, for the wretched devotees of gain, an ex¬
change like this ? Who does not wish them to quii
a momentary and fancied good, for a happiness rea
and enduring ; a happiness large as their desires,
and immortal as their spirits ?
Our country exhibits a spectacle new to the
world ; a treasury overflowing, in despite of everj
attempt to exhaust it. Its greatest and most op¬
pressive burden is its wealth. Might not benevo¬
lence, genuine. Christian benevolence, devise some
effectual methods of relief ?—Thousands of individ¬
uals, too, are groaning under the same intolerable
load. They have brilliant mansions, splendid equi¬
pages, luxurious tables, every thing, indeed, thai
31
heart could wish—except happiness. And who
does not wish them, instead of the "gildings of
their woe," the solid, real enjoyment of becoming
the almoners of Heaven's bounty, in succoring the
*
distressed, in sheltering the houseless, or in circula¬
ting the volume of life through a dying world.
Indeed, unless such a system of depletion be set on
»
foot, must not the overgrown wealth of thousands
in our country inflict the most fatal maladies on
themselves, and the community ?
Ambition is another malady incident to communi¬
ties, and especially to republics. Here, the highest
honors and offices being open to all, there is no
want of aspirants to the highest honors and offices.
As most men, too, are not uncandid judges of their
own qualifications, the tone of solicitation will be
proportionably elevated. The object being so dear,
the means of its attainment are not scrupulously
selected. Appeals are made to every interest, and
to every passion of the people ; to their love of
money, to their love of change, to their envy of
superior excellence, to the rancor sometimes felt by
the poor against the rich Thus men's judgment is
blinded, their moral sense broken down, their worst
feelings excited to action, the spirit of party exas¬
perated, and fatal divisions spread through the
community. Who can doubt that one principal
32
cause which has agitated and convulsed our country
for years, is ambition ?—an ambition which, as our
great public offices have something to bestow, be¬
side care and labor, is stimulated and strengthened,
not unfreqently, by avarice. And where shall an
evil so complicated, and so fatal, find its cure ?
The reply is obvious. Things must be seen in the
light of reason and eternal truth. Men must take
«
counsel of common sense and the Bible, and not
think of themselves more highly than they ought to think,
but think soberly ; soberly of their own talents and
powers ; soberly of their merits, and soberly of
their claims on the attention and confidence of their
fellow citizens. Public offices must be viewed, not
as mere honorary distinctions, or personal benefits,
but as sacred trusts—places of care, and labor, and
responsibility. Let those who may wish for office
imitate the modesty and magnanimity of the Spartan
patriot, who, on finding himself an unsuccessful
candidate for the Council of three hundred, rejoiced
" that Sparta had found three hundred citizens bet¬
ter than himself." Let the public, too, remember
that its confidence is due, not so much to those who
seek, as to those who need to be sought ; and that
important places will be best filled by those who
are least anxious to occupy them. Let them re¬
member Washington; the man who never sought
33
9
an office ; the man who never accepted an office,
4
but with reluctance ; and who yet gave to every
office which he filled, the ardor, the solicitude, the
unshrinking, persevering toil which most men give
to their personal concerns alone.
In speaking of national aberrations which Chris¬
tianity is calculated to correct, it was my purpose
to remark on the treatment which our country has,
for some years, exhibited to many of the Indian
tribes. But on reflection, I shrink from it. Alas !
the Rubicon is past ! We have expelled those un¬
happy beings from their hunting grounds, and their
%
improvements, from their beloved schools, and their
Christian temples, to the wildernesses of the distant
West. We have had the power ; and we have ex¬
ercised it. They have had nothing on their side,
but justice, and the pledged faith of our nation ;
and they have succumbed. I have no wish (let me
solemnly declare) to cast reproach on my country,
or its government. But as the humble minister of
a just and merciful God, I may be permitted to
grieve—deeply, inexpressibly to grieve—at this (I
fear) indelible stain on our nation's character and
annals.
There is an evil abroad in our country, which has
been manifest for years, and is perhaps increasing
still ; a wonderful excitability of the public mind.
36
the great Orator of the West, it is "a curse—a
curse to the master ; a wrong, a grievous wrong, to
the slave. In the abstract," he adds, "it is all
wrong, and no possible contingency can make it
right." If there be meaning in words, the whole
system of slavery is solemnly repudiated, both in
the Declaration of our national Independence, and
the Constitution of our Commonwealth. Where is
the patriot, or the philanthropist, who does not ar¬
dently wish that the evil were blotted out for ever
from our country ? Where is the good man in
New England who would withhold any practicable
and justifiable effort to effect the consummation ?
What then is to be done 1—To attempt a full
answer to this question, before this assembly,
would, in me, be the height of arrogance. It is a
question which, I verily believe, perplexes the
strongest and most sagacious minds. Without in¬
decorum, however, I may perhaps suggest, in reply,
a few negative hints.—We may do nothing morally
wrong. We may do nothing inconsistent with our
national Constitution, or with solemn arrangements
and pledges well understood. We may do nothing
calculated to exasperate, and to prolong the evils
to be removed. 0, the wound is deep. Let us
not, by our rashness, make it deeper still. The
4
37
disease is malignant and vital. Let not folly and
empiricism undertake its cure.
In a word ; if, as is contended, the evil, though
partly political, is chiefly moral, let moral means
and appliances be the grand resort. Let religion,
with her deep-seated wisdom, her assuasive power,
her omnipotence of meekness and of love, be brought
to bear upon it. It is religion which must open the
eyes, and soften the hearts of the masters. It is
«
religion which must soothe and sustain the spirits of
the slaves while in bondage, and prepare, them for ♦
a freedom worth enjoying. It is religion which
must impart a right and salutary direction to public
opinion, and to the course of legislation,' in the
^ »
states where slavery exists. And we firmly believe
/
that in those states religion is, at this moment,
exerting a noiseless, but powerful influence in favor
of the slaves ; and that when the wind, and the
earthquake, and the fire shall have spent their deso¬
lating rage, her still, small voice will be heard with
most precious efiect.
And what but religion can becalm the agitations
which pervade our own distant Commonwealth ?
Surely, it is not a small evil, when the good are
arrayed in hostility against the good ; when ground-
less jealousies and bitter animosities are spread
abroad ; when the peace of families, of neighbor-
4
\
38
hoods, of churches, of towns, of the whole commu¬
nity, is disturbed and destroyed ; when society is
convulsed to its centre, and its component elements
almost dissolved. And where shall we find the
remedy ? It is found in that wisdom which comes
from above, and which is pure, peaceable, gentle, easy
%
to be entreated. It is found in that heaven-descended
charity which suffereth long, and is kind ; which
envieth not ; which vaunteth not itself ; which is not
puffed up ; doth not behave itself unseemly ; seeketh not
her own ; is not easily provoked ; thinketh no mil ;
reyoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth ;
beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things,
endureth all things.^ If, in the great mercy of God,
this spirit may once more visit our community, our
wounds may yet be healed, and our peace restored.
If otherwise, all the evils we have seen and felt,
may prove but the casual drops of a cup of yet
untasted bitterness ; the first fruits of a harvest of
woe.
But the evil which, more than all others, men¬
aces our public peace and welfare, is yet to be
declared. I refer to the awful, and, it must be
feared, increasing prevalence of impiety and licen-
"tiousness. If, to the most superficial observer who
loolis abroad upon our country, there is presented a
state of morals and of manners which is truly
39
appalling, what must be witnessed by the omnipre¬
sent, all-seeing, all-hearing, heart-searching God ? ■
What estimate of our public and individual charac¬
ter must be his, in whose sight the heavens are
not clean, nor the stainless angels pure ? There i&
no occasion to compare the state of our morals with
that which exists in Mahomedan or Pagan nations,
or in the unreformed or half-reformed nations of
Europe. This might promote a causeless and per¬
nicious self-complacency. We should compare it
with the law of the eternal God, and with the holy
gospel of the Savior. We should compare it with
that profusion of blessings which indulgent Heaven
has poured around us, and with that unexampled
fulness of religious light and privileges in the midst
of which we live. Tried by these tests, our nation¬
al and individual guilt will assume a stain of malig¬
nity unknown and unsuspected before. Is it not
unnatural, is it not even horrible, that in such a
favored region, the laws of God should be trampled
down, his majesty insulted, his sabbaths desecrated,
and the gospel of his grace treated by thousands
with cold and thankless disdain ? Do not infidelity,
impiety, licentiousness, intemperance, and various
forms of profligacy every where abound ? Do not
vices and crimes of enormous size assail the hea¬
vens, and bid defiance to the wrath of the Al-
40
miglity ? And are there not evident indications of
this wrath actually visiting us ? Are not our public
counsels lamentably divided ? Have not disaster
and disgrace marked our unhallowed contest with
f
the Indian tribes ? Is not real distress experienced
in almost every portion of our late flourishing com¬
munity ? Are not the seeds of disunion rapidly
springing up throughout the length and breadth of
the land ? Is it quite certain that our national
Constitution, our pride and our boast, will remain
through another half-century? Is it certain that
none who now hear me, may see this fair fabric
shivered to atoms, and all the hopes that have rest¬
ed on it, scattered to the winds ?
But amidst these evils which exist, and these
dangers which threaten, is there no refuge; no
hope? Yes; there is refuge; there is hope. Re¬
pentance and reformation ; individual, national re¬
pentance and reformation, may yet save us. For
this we have the authority of God himself. If, says
this all-gracious Being, " If my people, called by
my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and
seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways,
then will I hear from heaven, and forgive their sin."
"At what instant I shall speak concerning a nation,
and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and to pull
down, and to destroy it ; if that nation against
«
41
whom I have pronounced, turn from their evil, I
will repent of the evil that I thought to do unto
them."—Here, then, is hope, and here alone. 0
ye whose hearts tremble for your country's crimes,
and bleed for your country's woes, carry that coun¬
try to the throne of God. Commit its interests to
Him who is mighty to save ; and all may yet be
well. Let this whole nation, humbled in dust, con¬
fess its guilt, and return to the forsaken paths of
truth and piety; and the days of its peace and
prosperity shall be prolonged.
Let me add ; It would be most happy for us, if,
together with a general repentance of sin, and^
reformation of morals, and of manners, tve should
return to that public policy which marked the gold¬
en era of our republic ; the. era of Washington.
Unparalleled, wonderful man ! The ornament of
i
his country. The admiration of the world. The
blessing of his age, and the bright model of rulers
of every age. For who will deny, that just so far
as the principles of his administration have been
pursued, it has been well with us ? Who will deny
that just so far as they have been forsaken, we have
smarted for it ?
To the Chief Magistrate of our favored Common-
I
wealth, the remarks offered in this discourse, are.
42
with great deference, submitted. With scarcely
the hope of having suggested any thing not familiar
to his thoughts, I indulge the still more gratifying
hope of his accordance with the general views ex¬
pressed. May all his efforts to promote the piety
and virtue, the peace and order, the intelligence,
the true glory and happiness of the Commonwealth,
be. divinely prospered, and divinely rewarded.
Long may he be continued the ornament and bless-
. ing of the community ; and much may he enjoy of
the delight dearest to the patriot's heart—the de¬
light of witnessing a people happy in his administra¬
tion, elevated by his example, and prospered in its
most precious interests, through his wise and faith-^
ful exertions.
Permit me to express the respects and salutations
of the occasion to the Lieutenant Governor, the
Council, the Senate, and Representatives of the
Commonwealth.
If, respected Friends and Legislators, religion,
V
and the virtues which spring from religion, are the
chief blessings of the community, then you have a
holy and sublime part to act. By just and wise
enactments, by laws founded in the eternal and un¬
changing principles of truth and righteousness, you
may do much to purify the sentiments of the com-
»
munity, to elevate the standard of morals, and to
I
43
suppress the various forms of iniquity. Permit me
to add ; you may do still more to effect these great
objects, by your example. The wisest and best
laws, if disregarded by those who make them, will
prove but a feeble barrier against the encroachments
of licentiousness and vice. But there is a beauty, a
majesty in virtue, especially in Christian virtue,
9
which overawes, while it attracts ; and which,
while it gives confidence to truth and goodness,
irresistibly frowns vice out of countenance. True it
is, indeed, that after the best laws, and the purest
examples have spent their force, there will remain
a mass of disorder and wickedness over which the
patriot heart will bleed. But you serve a kind and
generous Master—a Master who will reward the
intention, and the effort, though the accomplish¬
ment should fail. If you are faithful, nothing shall
deprive you of his life-giving, everlasting smile.
You shall live, too, in the memories and the hearts
of all the good on earth ; and having been the or¬
naments of the present age, you shall be the bless¬
ings, even of a distant and grateful posterity.
May the Almighty Ruler of the world look down,
with a benignant eye, on our beloved Common¬
wealth and Country.
May the land of the pious pilgrims—the land vis¬
ited by their enterprise, reclaimed by their industry,,
«
I
«
4
44
*
and hallowed by their prayers—the land in which
they planted the tree of religious and civil liberty—
remain the abode of genuine liberty, and pure reli¬
gion, while the world shall stand. May the rights,
the privileges, the invaluable institutions which
they have left us, be transmitted, a fair and unim¬
paired inheritance, to the latest posterity.
t
May the Infinite Being encircle in his protecting
arms these United States. May the soil which has
been wet with the tears of patriots, and moistened
with the blood of brave defenders, be fruitful in
every thing which dignifies, adorns and blesses a
community. May our Country attain the distin¬
guished honor oí instructing the nations in the mys¬
teries of a chastened liberty, a well regulated gov¬
ernment, and a pure religion. Here, may myriads
and millions be trained to the joys of a brighter
world ; and hence, may beams of heavenly light be
reflected through the earth, till the Prince of
PEACE shall come, and bless the nations with his
holy and bloodless sway.
f »
/
A
Ji
DISCOURSE
nBLlFBBED AT CAMBRIDGE
' «K. * . ^ i
i
i
1
IN TBE RBABIMO
•f
* I
I
OF THE UNIVERSITY
APRIL 8, 1810.
BY DAVID OSGOOD, D.D,
m
PASTOR OF THE CHURCH IN MEDFOSP,
CAMBRIDGE :
PUBLISHED BT WILLIAM BILLIARD
• P*« •••P •#*••• M
E. W, Metcalfe printer.
1810.
k *
f
á i
44
and hallowed by their prayers—the land in which
they planted the tree of religious and civil liberty—
remain the abode of genuine liberty, and pure reli¬
gion, while the world shall stand. May the rights,
the privileges, the invaluable institutions which
they have left us, be transmitted, a fair and unim¬
paired inheritance, to the latest posterity.
«
May the Infinite Being encircle in his protecting
arms these United States. May the soil which has
been wet with the tears of patriots, and moistened
with the blood of brave defenders, be fruitful in
every thing which dignifies, adorns and blesses a
community. May our Country attain the distm-
guished honor oí instructing the nations in the mys¬
teries of a chastened liberty, a well regulated gov¬
ernment, and a pure religion. Here, may myriads
and millions be trained to the joys of a brighter
world ; and hence, may beams of heavenly light be
refiected through the earth, till the Prince of
PEACE shall come, and bless the nations with his
holy and bloodless sway.
» I
/
a
A
JML
DISCOURSE
bELiy&BED AT CAMBRIDGE
. « .
' I
fN THB HBAS2NO
' I
• I
OF THE UNIVERSITY
f ■
APRIL 8, 1810.
BY DAVID OSGOOD^
PASTOR OF THE CHURCH IM MEBFORB
CAMBRIDGE :
1 «
PUBLISHED BY WILLIAM HILLIARD.
E, W, Metcalfe printer.
1810.
«
« •
«
Harvard UmversUy^ April 9,181(X
REV. SIR,
PURSUANT to a vote of the students of the
University, we have the honour to express to you die
high satisfaction with which they yesterday heard your,
impressive and valuable discourse ; and, in their name,
to request the favour of a copy for publication»
Accept, Sir, the assurances of our high respeet
I
m
and esteenim
SAMUEL FISHER,}
GEORGE MOREY, f
GEORGE HOMER, Q
JOHN A. HAVEN, )
Hevu Dr. Osgood.
$
DISCOURSE.
II SAMUEL XV. 6.
So Ahsahm stole the hearts of the men of IsraeL
When we think of the character of David, dte
wisdom and rectitude of his government and the unex.
ampltd happiness and prosperity of his subjects during
his reign j the success of Absalom in exciting so general
a revolt and drawing over to the side of rebellion, so vast
a majority of the people, is an event seemingly unaccoun-
1
table. From his early youth David had shown hunseU*
the first of heroes and the first of patriots. His splendid
achievements during the reign of Saul, had spread his
fame throughout the nation ; AU Israel and Judah l&ved
him,» After a long series of the severest trials, by the suf-
fiages pf the whole nation, as well as by the appointment
of God, he was made king over all the tribes. Being
thus invested with the government, he speedily freed the
nation from every foreign yoke, and amply avenged eve¬
ry hostile agression. He never lost a battle, nor failed
of success in any expedition. His arms were constantly
and every where triumphant. He humbled and subdu¬
ed, not the Philistines only, but, the Ammonites, Moab¬
ites, Edomites, Syrians, and all the former enemies of Is¬
rael. His subjects saw all the neighbouring nations who
had hitherto so often oppressed them and, at all times,
had been thorns in their sides, novC^ made tributaries to
them. The wealth of the adjacent countries centred in
the land of Israel.
4
In the civil administration of his government, David
fed the people in the integrity of his heart, and guided tíwM
by the skilfulness 'of his hands.- Bemg just, Hs ruled in
the fear of God ; and the beneficial influences of his a&
ministration were as the Ught ef the morning when the
sun H rising and bis people flourished under than like
the tender grass springing up under the warm, sboweis
of heaven.^ He adored the divine constitution rfhis coun-
m
tr}% and "reflated its affiiirs with a scrupulous C0Qf(Him>
ty to its institutions.' His heart.glowed with the love öf
God andof his law ; and he so arranged the fwrns of pub.
lie worship as to give them all the beauty of holiness. Nu
people, béfore or since, were ever more prosperous and
• • • «
Ifâppy, than the Israelites wtre at the veiy time when tiiqr
'Conspired with an impious son, to depose and murder the
"besi of kih^ and the most indulgent of fathers.
' Thetext assures us that this change in their affecfioos,
Was not occasioned by any motives of reason, ony-oon.
sideiâtions which honor or honesty, which wisdom or
goodness could approve. Absalom stole the hearts <rf Üb
men of Israel^—as a thief acts against all the rules d truth
and justice^ so, by the vilest intrigues, lies, and flatterie^
Absalom ' attached to himself, the hearts of the peqdc.
-So Absalom stole, refers to the preceding description rf
these his wicked arts of deception. Tlie histoiy inánU-
ates that his success was facilitated by the engaging come,
liness of his person and its exterior graces, his form be. i
iiig so perfect ú)3t,from the sole of his foot to thecramsj
his head, there was no blemish in him. In the choice of a
king among the ancient ^Ethiopians, " the face availed
much," says Lucretius. Many in every nation, are lia¬
ble to be prepossessed by a beautiful outside. Evoa tí»
s
«
prophet Samuel, when he looked <»i Eliab, «aid, surely
the hard's anointed is before him. Undoubtedly Absa^
iom's beauty, aided by his polished manners and master¬
ly address, had its influence among the less discerning
part of the people.
Having attracted general admiration and become ex¬
tremely popular, in concert with Ahitophel, the Machia¬
vel of the age, he secretly resolved upon his nefarious
»
design ; and in its prosecution, ieft no arts of seductioU
Unattempted. For a long time, it was his practice to rise
early every morning, and throwing himself in the way of
all those who, from any of the tribes, had any business at
'Court, or any controversy depending upon regal deci¬
sion, he accosted each individual with the most conde¬
scending affability, entered into familiar conversation with
'them, inquired from what city or tribe they came ?■ then
remarking upon their business^ lamented that he was not
authorized to hear their cause, and imjdicitly censured j
his father's government as negligent of the public good
in withholding from the people the rich services which
he would be glad to render them in the capacity of judge.
As often as any person noticed him, or made obeisance
to him ; immediately he took that man by the hand, em¬
braced and kissed him. On this manner did Absalom to
aU Israel that came to the king for judgment : and so,
1^ these methods, he stole their hearts.
His success is a melancholy proof of the strange in-
flituation and blindness to which men are liable with
respect to the things pertaining to their present temporal
peace and prosperity : It shows that the majority of a
nätion, even' (Ä a nation professing the true religion, are
liable to be so inveigled, deluded and biassed by artful
6
designing men as to be brought, not only to desert; but
$
to turn against, their truest friends and benefactors;
withdrawing from them their confidence and plack^ k
in the most unprincipled and profli^te characters ; and
at the hazard of their lives, supporting such characters
in a long continued series of crimes, crimes tending, not
4
only to their own reproach, but to their misery and ruá
4
After the Israelites had made up their minds upon
s
the politics of the day, and respectively chosen thck
sides ; we may easily conceive the bitterness and vim»
Wee which the two p^es, the continued adha^ts to
David and the followers of Absalom, felt and expressed
the one towards the other. Of these indeed we have «
«
specimen in the slanders, imprecations and curses wlúch
4
Shimei poured forth upon David to his face, in the hear¬
ing of all his friends. ' Come out^ come out, thou hhody
man, thou man of Belial : The Lord hath retttmed
thee all the blood of the house of Saul in whose steadtim
hast reigned and hath delivered the kingdom into the fund
of Absalom thif sonand behold, thou art taken in %
mischief, because thou art a bloody man. In this str^
we may suppose, all the orators and emissaries of Aba*'
lorn at every club-meeting in every city throughout (ht
tribes, declaimed against David, depreciating aU has vk*
tues and good deeds and, at the same time, equa% ag¬
gravating and emblazoning every mistake, infirmity
defect either in his private character or in his adnûiùstra-
tion of the government. To these slanders David alludes
in the Psalms which he composed upon this occaáoB>
in ■ which he complains, that thâr tongues were dram
swords—that the poison of asps was under thehf ^
that they heaped iniquity upon him. -
7
In tlüs abuse of him, all his kno^vn friends came in
%
for their share. Those ministers of religion and those
men of understan^ng and judgment, of fixed principles
and steady habits, all the Barzillais throughout the coun-
*
try, who still retained .their loyalty, were stigmatized as
tories, friends to an arbitrary and unjust government, to
a cruel and bloody tyranny, the supportem of a wicked
usurper, of an old vile adulterer and the atrocious mur¬
derer of the brave Uriah. Thousands and thousands lis.
I
tened with the most eager attention to the enchanting and
captivating eloquence displayed upon these topics ; and
had their passions worked up to phrenzy against the ad.
herents to such a monster of wickedness.—Undoubtedly
the partisans of David retaliated in their turn, and were
not sparing in applying to their adversaries, the appella-
tions of rebels, traitors, parricides, miscreants, unprinci¬
pled disorganizers, seditious disturbers of the public
peace, and the mad destroyers of their country.—Thus
%
the two parties went on mutually reviling and abusing
each other till the sword, drawn by brother against broth¬
er, father against son and son against father, decided the
contest in the slaughter of twenty thousand of their
brethren in one day—all occasioned by the restless am¬
bition of one man. - We are not to suppose that all Da¬
vid's adherents were men of piety, nor that the followers
• «
of Absalom, were all equally wicked with himself. The
text implies the contrary ; their hearts being stolen by
him, imports their having been misled and deceived by
Iiis flattery and guile.
p
- My hearers, you already anticipate the application of
»
these things to the present state of our own country and
nation ; and perhaps some of you may think that a min-
e
istor o£ religion had better forbear touching upon topics
with reference to which different parties have so deep
and quick a sensibility. This is the common language
of the dominant party at the present j^y ; but the tune
was, when the public voice highly applauded the clergy
of the country for their noble exertions in its politíod
concerns. Their influence M^as universally acknowkdg«»
ed and extolled in bringing about that revolutk»i
which our independence and Uberties were obtained*
Why are they mrw desired to be silent ? The reastm is
obvious. It is known that the character of the present
national rulers and the measures which they have adopts
> •
cd, are disapproved by the great body of the cleigy
throughout the United States. Such men would neves
have been entrusted with the government and such meas¬
ures would never have been adopted, could the VMce of
the clergy have been heard. The prophets of the Lord
throughout the land of Israel, with Nathan and (kid at
their head ; and the priests and Levites^ with the |i^
priests, Zadock and Abiathar at their head, were ao|
more firmly attached to the government of David and
more fully opposed to the usurpation and rebellion ef
Absalom, than the clergy of this country are attached to
the character and principles of Washington and opposdi
to those of Jefferson and his adherents. In the o[áiBÍOB
of the clergy, the former bore the image, all the priacqi^
features of the man afier God's own hearty while the lat*r
%
ter was deemed capable of all the guile and dishonesQi>
of an Absalom.
As the ministers of religion are known thus to
from the abettors and supporters of the present rulos,
they are desired to abstain from aU political discusá«»
9
ià the pulpit. But should not they who are thus earnest
to impose silence upon their teachers, reflect whethef
there be not something suspicious in this their desire t
It is essential to an honest and good heart, always to hold
itself open to the evidence of truth from whatever quar¬
ter it may be o£b%d ; while it is the nature of prejudice
and of every ill bias» to hate, at first sight, the appearance
of opposition. Have not their religious teachers as much
at stake as themselves, as great an interest in tiie public
weal ? Is it possible for them, to prefer one set of rulers
to another from any other motive but a conviction of
their being better men or better qualified to serve the
Public ? As men of information and learning, the clergy
may be supposed, to possess advantages superior to the
generality of their parishioners, for forming a cotrect
judgment of public characters and of public affairs. The
leaders of parties have often a private interest distinct
from that of the public, to promote ; but the clergy can
have no such interest. Thus circumstanced, might it
not be naturally expected that their people would wish
to be informed of their judgment upon these compleix
yet interesting concerns ? To whom can the farmer,
the mechanic, or the tradesman apply for information
ttith so much confidence as to his minister ? I remem¬
ber tiie time when this was generally practised, and the
opinion of tiie clergy, to a great degree, guided that of
their people. If for some years past, it has ceased, has
it not been for the same reason that it ceased among the
Israelites after Absalom had stolen their hearts ? Infat¬
uated and blinded by the spirit of party, by the flattery,
guUe and falsehood of ' artful, interested and designing
politicians, men give themselves up exclusively to the
passions and prejudices thus produced.
2
10
\
In such a state of things however, whetíier meâ hear
or whether they forbear, the faithful minister of the gos¬
pel feels himself under an obligation superior to that at
of any human authority, to testify agdnst all unrighteous¬
ness in government, as well as in other concerns ; ' and
against wicked rulers, as well as against wicked subjects.
The word of God obliges him X.o.cry abud.and not sparet
lifting up his voice like a trumpet^ agmnst tlie crying sins
of the land ; and calling upon all ranks of men to forsake
.their false and evil ways and reform whatever has been
amiss in their poätkst as well as in every other part of
their conduct. Their political faults and follies, more
frequently perhaps than any others, have been the imme¬
diate cause of prejudice to religion, as well as of dedi
ment to their own civil interests. Had the Isnielkes
hearkened to their prophets and priests, had they pos¬
sessed knowledge and virtue sufficient to resist the cvm-
ning and subtilty of. Ahitophel, the flattery and guile rf
Absalom ; what direful calamities might they have es.
caped!—To my apprehension, similar calamities, but
probably of much longer continuance, are now hangiog
over our country, brought on precisely by the same arts
which originated Absalom's rebellion. We are huny-
ing on in a career apparently leading to the same conchi-
sion. Does it not become us as rational reflecting be¬
ings, as men, and much more, as christians, to pause,
«
and seriously and solemnly inquire whether we are i^it,
whether we may not be under some wrong bias, whelh-
er there may not be a lie in our right hand !
Could men be persuaded to such a dispassionate in¬
quiry, there would be room for hope ; but when a party
spirit has once taken possession of their hearts, from drat
moment, their ears are stopped against all the impressions
of truth, of reason, and of argument. Nothing which
die friends of David could say had the least eifect upon
the partisans of Absalom. In vain were they told that
\
David was the Lord's anointed, and to rebel against Am,
was to rebel against God. The power of God can over¬
come the prejudices of men, but his authority avails no¬
thing against them; Be the divine commands what they
may, prejudice always interprets them in favOr of itself.
The followers of Absalom were confident that Jehovah
* '
was on their side. His name was boldly introduced as
-sanctioning all their proceedings, even the very curses of
ShimeL No arguments will gain the attention of men
greatly prejudiced. When St. Paul apologized for him¬
self at Jerusalem, the assembly, says the historian, gave
him audience unto this word ; meaning a word which bore
directly upon their prejudices, when instantly lifting up
their voices, they exclaimed, Awat/ with such a fellow
from the earth ; for it is not fit that he should live. After
the same manner they also treated the martyr Stephen—^
crying out and stopping their ears.
The nature of prejudice is the same in all ages and
upon every subject, political, as well as religious ; and
they who are most under its influence, are least sensible
of it, and wholly unaware of the absurd lengths to which
4
they may be drawn. Many persons who, during Wash¬
ington's administration, joined in censuring his measures,
explicitly approbate them now ; but they still confide in
the very men by whom they were then decejved. • Is it
not wonderful that they are not sensible of the inconsist¬
ency—that they do not blush to remember the many 1 lu¬
dicrous follies into which they have been betrayed by their
1?:
artful leader^ ? Amidst the universal clamour which th^
leaders had the address to excite agmnst Mr. Jay'a treaty^
with Britain, how many of pur country towns exposed
their ignorance and folly by publishing strictures and nsj
solves upon that subject ? In some places, the matter
carried to a much greater extravagance. In one of d»'!
counties of the state of New York„ nearly a whole c»o- •
gregation of professed christians became so ^tated thatr
they committed great disturbances. They paraded
streets, burned Mr. Jay in effigy, and erected liberty-poksi
with a French red cap on their tops and absurd device»,
on their bottoms ; which liberty-poles, a few months ánce,'
were still standing, the monuments of the knavery and ^
wickedness of the men who are now our nation^ ruloa.«
Those honest christians who were wwked up to sudt i.
phrenzy, knew no more about treaties, than they did about
Sir Isaac Newton's Principia ; but the Absaloms airi
Ahitbphels of the day, who were then attempting to de¬
throne Washington, had stolen tlieir hearts and their un-,
derstandings. On a Lord's day during these their riot> • '
ous proceedings, their minister read for their edificatkn,
the thirteenth chapter of the Epistle to the Ronums^
seven first verses of which are so many precepts enjun-'
ing civil order and government. A great prqxMrficmof
the congregation grew very angry | and the chapter
read, they declared, "The New Testamekt WaJ;
weitten onlv for slaves under a lionakcstv
and was never intended for indefendentrfi*
publicans."—Thus the word of God itself is renoim-
ced by professed believers when it stands in the way of
their party -prejudices and passions.
What then sliall be done.f When we see and know
«
' 13
Y
tíiat our fiiends and fellow-citizens, deluded and blinded
by the soplùstiy and guile of wicked Absaloms, are hur-
lying on in the career to ruin, and are canying ourselves
sdong with them ; are we to be silent ? are we to forbear
every attempt to open their eyes and disabuse them ?—
My hearers, I enter upon this áttempt with the feelings ,
of one going upon a fwlom ho^. God is my witness
that I would not upon any consideration, willingly or un¬
necessarily wound the feelings of, or give ofience to, an
individual in this assembly. My aim is to address you
in the words of truth and soberness. If a single assertion
diould escape me which is not true, I pledge hly self on
etmviction, to recall it as publicly as it may "be madei
Will you not then give me your candid hearing while I'
open to you what appears to me the true statj of our na¬
tional af^iirs ?
The cloud which now darkens our horizon, began to'
appear at the period when the first embassador from the"
French republic, unfortunately reached our shores. As
the object of his mission was, to unite this nation with his
own in war against England ; the men who are now our
rulers, were well disposed to comply with his wishes.
Immediately French emissaries spread themselves froni
one extremity of the continent to the other, many news¬
papers were engaged to aid their cause, and many parti-:
sans in all the states, especially in the southern ones, ap- -
peared clamouring for war. So great was their influence
in congress, that one of its members, in a letter dated
more than sixteen years ago, expressed himself to this eft
feet, "I shall congratulate my country if we can get
through the session without a declaration of war." The
wise and upright Washington issued his proclamation of
14
neutrali^ ; but for some time, it remmned doubtful Tvfa«.
/
ther he would be able to support it against the influaice
of the war-party. • • • «
The leaders of that party have never lost sight of didr
object. Before they reached the helm of state, their in-^
fluence was constantly add uniformly exerted in favor dP
France against England v Washington'made a tirea^
with the latter, in consequence of which a vast pr(^)er^
was restored to our citizens, and the commercial prosper¬
ity of the country through the course of more than teii
years, continued rising to an height before unexampled^
Yet this treaty, so unspeakably advantageous to the coun¬
try, brought upon Washington and Jay, the utmost ven-
om of slander and abuse from the men now m power;
Such was their influence then in congress that, for a long
time, no act of the legislature could be obtained makú^
provision for carrying the treaty into effect. It was, at
last, obtained by the petitions and remonstrances the
merchants in our great cities.
At the period when Ais treaty expired, the sun of
our country's glory had sitten, Washington wasnomwtt
His insidious and malignant opponents had burst du
doors of public confidence and seated themselves Ae
head of our affairs. The commerce of the countiy and
its immense advantages from a good understanding wi4
England, were matters of no consideration wùth thenfc
The British cabinet offered to renew the treaty, bût they
spurned the proposal. The philosophical Jefferson had
a variety of experiments which he wished to try, the |M0-
jects of his own fruitful invèntion ; dry-docks, gun-boats*
non-importation acts, embargoes, non-intercourse laws,
torpedoes, wiA, I know not, how many other contrivan*
15
©CS for bringing down the spirit of the nation to a tempe-
lament suitable to the views of those who now guided
their counsels. In the pursuit of these projects, the com¬
merce of the country has been destroyed, its infant navy
reduced and neglected, its prosperity blasted, its wealth
dissipated, its treasury, what not first plundered by
the creatures of administration, wholly exhausted.; the
^iiite of parties inflamed and sharpened against each oth-
çr, and foreign war provoked by a continued series of
insults against the only power which has hitherto stood
between us and the great ravager of the human race.
Amidst these experiments, permission was, at length,
- given to our envoys at London, to negotiate a treaty up¬
on conditions which their instructers had little reason to
«
expect would be conceded. By a change in the British
ministry remarkably favorable to this country, those con-
ditíons were essentially obtained* Mr. Jefferson was dis¬
appointed. In that treaty he saw the derangement ,of his
favorite schemes, and, what affected him still more, the
loss of the friendship of France. Bonaparte had just de¬
creed the destruction of the British commerce, and im-
t '
periously demanded the aid of America. Jefferson's
' b^tirt was with him, but this new treaty stood in his way.
What should he do ? The constitution required the trea¬
ty to be laid before the Senate of the United States. The
president knew that if submitted to them, it would cer¬
tainly be sanctioned. Thus situated, .would any man
whose heart was not that of an Absalom, of a desperado,
I
have taken upon himself, in contempt of the constitution,
the responsibility of rejecting and indignantly sending
back, a treaty so essential to the peace and prosperity of
his country ? Would he have thus put to hazard, the im-
16
mense property of his fellow-câtizens at that mon
floating upon the ocean, a tempting prey to more th
thousand British cruizers ?
But this was the desired opportuni^ for Jeifen
experiments. Of course, they were put in imme
operation ; but as they consisted in a most flagrant
lation, not of the federal constitution only, but of t
first principles which unite men in society, and m
stretch of despotism unparalleled and unexampled à
history of the world ; no circumstance attending tl
occasioned to my mind more gloomy apprehensicms,
to see my fellow-citizens so humbled and lost to a s
of their civil rights, the rules of morality, and the laV
God as to be capable of yielding their necks one mt»
to such horrible impositions. Their infiituation i
this subject, exceeded in absurdity, the stufHCflty of
Israelites in suffering their hearts to be stolen by A
lom. The utter futility of those experiments to ani
their pretended purposes, had been demonsbated by I
(^ponents both in and out of congress with a <
as the noon-tide sun ; yet the whole party shut their
agmnst this light, and one of our great men, whose î
ence in favor of the embargo-laws, had more wei^t
that of any other individual in New England, said to
doubting of their efficacy, " I know they will be efiè
al." This he repeated in the same peremptwy tone <
and over again.—^Notwithstanding this high confide
after they had been in forCe eight months, our minist
Paris, wrote to his employers, " That in France the
bargo was not felt and in England forgotten." ■ By
wise rulers however, it was continued ten months loi
to the gratification and applause of the French gov
17
meat, the increased profit of British • commerce, and"^
the distress of our own citizens. At last, it was given»
up by its very authors, and abettors ; but were they,
ishamed of their^sin and folly? No; they were not
ashamed : They immediately had recourse to other
periments of die same general nature ; and to this day,
dieir theory is not exhausted ; they have still furthe#
projects in oxitemplation. ' .
4. But, as a preacher of righteousness, authorized by
the word of God, I amnounce to them, that from what
diey have done already, a load of guilt and a long train
of evils both natural and moral, have been produced
which will one day, whatever may be their present in-
senribility and stupefaction, ^aw their souls to the
quick and pierce their very joints and marrow. Besides
the nüs^ îuid mischief to the multitudes immediately
oppressed ; in the sight of that Being whose eyes are
every where beholding the evil and the ^ood, many per-'
sons, either in evading or executing the embargo-laws
were, from first to last, slaughtered ; divers murders and
peijuries were committed, innumerable false oaths taken,
crimes of blackest dye perpetrated, and scenes of violence
and guilt acted along the whole extent of our frontier, as
wdl as in every port and harbour on the coast. All these
atrocious enormities are still crying to Heaven for ven¬
geance upon those evil coimsels and unrighteous de¬
cree which, in their effects, were so many snares of heU
the consciences and souls of men. Hardened infi-
1
dels may sneer at these denunciations, but though men
may mock, God is not mocked. In the issue of things,
jt will be found that, as there is a reward for the right¬
eous, so a strange punishment is in reserve for the work-
I a ^
18
t
ets of iniquity. The heaviest woes hang over those «il»
decree unrighteous decrees—•'mà. attempt to estabßsh a
eití/or a government 6¡/ini^uit^. i ,
0 that I were made judge in the land ! was amoi^
the arts of Absalom. The same insidious arts covered
the march of our present rulers to the helm of State.
Nothing answered their purpose better, than reproaches
against their predecessors for their want of œconomyy
for the'enormous salaries which they had approprmted
to themselves, arid for their general profusion of the peek
pie's money. Upon this string all the newspapers de*
voted to their interest, ' were constantly playing. las
letter to a citizen during Washington's adrainistratioi^
Mr. Jefferson expressed his dread of the patronage of
the Executive, " because it enlisted on his side all those
whorri he could interest, and doomed the laboring dti*
zens to toil and sweat for useless pageantry.",
With such professions previously made^ he rmd Us
coadjutors gained possession of the public cl^. What
has been their œconomy ? During the eight years pre*
ceding his administration^ the average appropriation ibr
the civil list, annually fell short of half a million of
lars. During the same term of his and Madison's ad¬
ministration^ it exceeded the double of tlmt sum*
-Hamilton whose labors and talents originated the whole
«ystem of revenue, received a salary of thirty five lain»
dred dollars. His present successes' in thé same
receives five thousand dollars.—*-It is well known^
all the subordinate officers in the government were Ä-
placed by Mr. Jefferson, to make room for his fiieads,
the true republicans, as they are called, men of aconoffljr
"who are willing to straiten themselves to spare ffie mouth j
19
•f labor. Among these republicans, General Wilkin-'
ik)n makes a most conspicuous figure. The expenses
6f this man's table for the space of about four months
i
only, cost the United States six thousand six hundred
hineteen dollars. When I read the particulars of this
and his other. accounts in the ppblic papers, I could not
conceive, that such charges would be allowed. £x<«
travagaht as they were, they were paid by Mr. Jeiferspn's
CM'der in violation of the law. Is the suspicion unfound¬
ed that he feared to provokè Wilkinson, lest he should
betray secrets prejudicial to the party ? Among the ca¬
pable and honest republicans introduced by Jeiferson to
places of public trust, one at New Orleans has lately ab¬
sconded with one hundred thousand dollars of the public
money ; another at the Eastward, with thirty thousand j
a secretary of state, an attorney-general, a collector of
our first sea-port, and a clerk of the house of representa¬
tives are on the list of defaulters." A report of the
comptroller of the treasury brings in Mr. Jefferson's of-
«
ficers delinquent to the amount of half a million of dol¬
lars, exclusive of the defalcations during the three last
#
years, as yet unknown. Besides these absolute losses,
the sums are immense ánd incalculable which Mr, JefT
ferson's experiments have cost the country, I know
not how many millions were expended in building and
equipping his fleet of one hundred and three gun-boats
which, when finished, he himself acknowledged to be
useless. Was there ever before, under the name of de¬
fence, so cruel a mockery practised upon any people ?—
In short, Mr. Jeiferson, throughout his administration,
*
treated the people as though they were less than children,
more easily deceived and destitute of all . intellect.. In
t
2Q
his very last message to congress he affected to be at a
loss how to dispose of the surplusage of revenue, »4
to solicit advice whether it should be laid out in roads,
canals, íac—^when he knew that, in consequence of his
measures, the wheels of government must stop witfán a
twelvemonth unless there should be a loan of four imllkms
cff dollars. Such shameless efirontery is hardly paralleled
in the history of tyrants.—Mr. John Randolph, a Vir.
ginia member of congress and formerly a zeaknis frkodl
of the late President, has become So thoroughly cOTvinc.
ed of his dish(xiesty that, in one of his publications, after
bbserving that he returned from his mission to France,
** iñ dress, taste, politics, philosophy, and religion, afinished
Frenchman"—he goes on to compare him » his mes»
Sages to congress and public documents, to die insi^ous
and dark minded Tiberius, and says of him, ^t be
died politically with a lie in his mouth." ' j - <
My brethren, when the people of Aese United Stated
chose this man for their chief ruler, 1 did at the dme sttd
do still, firmly believe that they tinned against Hearca
in a grievous and aggravated manner. By that sin thqr
have brought upon themselves the displeasure .<tf Al¬
mighty God, the effects of which they are now sufMift
being given up to eat of the fruit of their own wafs, aod
to be filled with their own devices, their public cwmsdi
being turned into foolishness, their transgressi(Hi8 nadt
to correct them, and the» backslidings to reprove than..
We call ourselves a Christian nation. God hasás-
ringuished us from many other nations by ^ving us tí*
inestimable treasure of his word to direct lis ip aH OUT
conduct^ and especially in our political concerns. Tus
word enjoins it upon us, in the choice of rulers, tP
ow suffi'^^es for such and such dnly as fear Him,, mef^
g/* truthy as well as of ability, eminent for religion and
probity, as well as for knowledge and wisdom. . These
commands are, not only abundantly repeated both in the
Old Testament and in the New, but are illustrated in
many striking examples of good and bad statesmen and
rulers, of Davids and Absaloms, of Samuels and Ahito>4
phels, of Gideons and Abimelechs throughout the whole
inspired history; This^nation, when their religious teach*
ers set before them the revealed will of God upon this
subject, and admonished them not to act in contradiction
Id their chrbtian principles and profession—^this nation
turned, a deaf ear, declared against being priest-ridden,
imposed silence upon their pastors at the peril of being
deserted by their .flocks and turned out of their livings i
The answer was, whether he believe m one God or in
twenty, whether he be a believer or a deist, the friend of
Jesus Christ or of Thomas Pmne í—it is sufficient for us
that he is a true republican, and for that reason, the man
of our choice." The sentence of Heaven was passed up¬
on them ; Ephraim is joined to idols, let him alone. The
Lord gave them their request ; but sent leanness into their
.souls. ' . 1/
■ Many people seem to tliink that though a man should
not be a believer in Christianity, he may notwithstanding
be a man of good morals and a wise and good ruler
there having been many such among the ancient Greeks
ami Romans before the publication of Christianity; But
they who thus argue, forget that there is a wide difference
between deists in a pagan,and deists in a christian, coun¬
try. Pagan deists upon whom the light of revelation ne-
vçr shone, were never guilty of hating and rejecting this
divine light. For this reason, they may be saj^iosed
to retain a much deeper sense of moral oblig^oó, thás^
those men who have apostatized from the gospel. The
latter, though professing belief in God, are practical athe»*
ists. Robespierre, as also Thomas Paine, professed be.f
lief in a supreme Being ; but they were' both practical
atheists. They left their supreme Being to slumber k*
supine apathy and indifference, while they pur»ied dis
career, the one of his passions, the other of his appetites^-
insensible of and careless about all future consequences.
I do not say that all deists are equally unrestrained in nee
with these two most profligate characters. ■ Mai^, nc
doubt, are held back by natural affection, by a sense of'
decency, by public opinion, by a regard to reputatíon, and
by other similár considerations ; but not by principle
not by any deep governing sense of their accountableness
to God. Never in my life did I meet with a deist who?
appeared in his actions or conversation, to be influoKod
by a reverential awe of God ; nor do I imagine such an
one to be found in all Christendom. The seed of Ak
gospel never falls upon an honest and good heart witfaoot
being received and taking root. Its light never slnnes
upon those whose deeds are not evil, without being wd* '
corned as pleasant and delightful. But thOse men whese
minds, after being enlightened by education and sdeiice^
are yet so .blinded by their passions and lusts as to late
the light of revelation, are never in their pracdcp
wards guided by the light of nature and reason. ' Divina '
providence suffers this inferior light to be extinguished
in those who wilfully reject, the superior and gre^ 1^
of revelation. Such men are usually given over to a rq>.
róbate mind and seared cdnscience. As temptiiti(HÍs oc«
2a
cur, they often go on from bad to worse till they becoihe
desperate in wickedness. Hence it comes to pass , that-
áich men in christian countries, are often guilty of crimes
not named among the heathens, more vile and atrocious
than those of pagan idolaters. It may be doubted wheth¬
er the crimes of the latter, of all the pagan nations over
tiie whole earth during the lapse of ages, have equalled in
magnitude and horror, those of the, infidel French since
the commencement of tlieir revolutionary career,
But to go on with Our political discussion. I remem¬
ber to have read in thé Monthly Reviews of London dur¬
ing Washington's administration, a panegyric upon his
^ f
strict and scrupulous observance of the rules of neutrality ;
but by this neutrality he drew upon himself, the displea¬
sure of Jefferson, Giles, Madison, and their whole party,
Jefferson said of him, " that he was attached to the whore
of England Giles* publicly abused him on the floor '
of congress ; arid Madison exerted all his abilities in the
nation^ councils, to defeat his neutrality by a law making
a discrimination in favor of France against England. The
spirit of this proposed law consisted in rendering the Uni¬
ted States tributary to France by compelling them against
t t
* GileSf I mention this man because his inAuence in congress for some
^surs 'past, seems to have been irresistible, and onginated the most, if not
all, those measures which have brought reproach, as well as cUstress, upon
the nation. These ihiits are agreeable to the nature of the tree produc¬
ing them, fifteen yeárs ago,' a highly respectable senator from this com¬
monwealth, gave me a ch'arácter of this man which is but confirmed by a
late Virginia publication, representing him in heart and head as the coun¬
terpart of Ahitophel ; totally destitute of honor and piinciple, capable of
thé blackest perfidy ; with the mention of whose name," says the writer,
^ nothing could induce me to stain my paper or pollute my lips, but thes
power which he seems to have acquired of being hurtful to my country."
What are we to expect from a national legislature under the influence of
such a leader ? '
24
their interest avid to a great loss of profit, to trade wWi her
ratter than with £ng^d. Thus evidently did Mr. Mad-^
ison tlien, prefer the interest of France, not onlpr to that oÊ
England, but to that of his own country ; and ^ shame^'
less was he in this partiality that he openly avowed it in*
*
these words : " What* must be the feelings of France*
between whom and the United States the most firiendljr
relations exist, when she sees not only the balance of
trade agmnst her, but that what is obtained from hav
flows into the coffers of one of her most jealous rivals.'^
It was in the year 1794 when Mr. Madison thus spdEeof
the most friendly relations subsisting between France and'
the United States. At that veiy time, all the agents ávd
engines of French influence were in full operatioi to rev-!
olutionize this country and overthrow the government of
Washington. So general was their success that westood'
tottering on the verge of a rebellion altogether as shsord'
and criminal as was that of Absalom. Thus circumstan¬
ced, is it conceivable that Mr. Madison \Vould have made
such a speech had he not enlisted himself among the prmm
agents for France ? Is he not the same man still ? What
proofs have we to the contrary ? Did he not unifomflf
oppose all the precautionsof his own government against
France up to the very time when he himself becamea
member of the administration ? '
»
How he has conducted since, I will endeavour Ixiefy
to state, so far as my knowledge extends.., Previous tu«
this period, in a manner the most provoking and outra¬
geous, Frmice had plundered an immense property fin®
our merchants, no part pf which was ever restmed. Bo»
ñaparte had usurped the government of that country sad
had the direction of its afi^irs at the time when the last
was negotiated. It has since appeared that he had
no other view in forming it but to gmn the opportunity of
yet further plunder by alluring our proper^ within his
grasp. When seventeen millions of dollars, according to
the statement of our embassador, had thus at unawares, '
ËiUen within his reach, he suddenly seized upon the whole". •
Spuming the obligations of the ftiost solemn treaties, he*
%
issued his Berlin, Milan, and Bayonne decress—decrees
whose nature outrages every principle of humanity, as
well as of reason and morality ; and for capricious feroci¬
ty and cruelty, are unequalled and unexampled in the an-*
Hals of despotism itseUl These decrees are rigidly car- -
ried into execution upon our citizens. All the power of
Franceand her allies is uninterruptedly employed in depre-'
dations upon our property and commerce, in capturing,
plundeiwg and burning our ships ; and throwing their
crews into prison. Hundreds of our seamen are now
lingering and perishing in the gaols of F ranee. Thé hum¬
ble, meek and submissive remonstrances of our embas-^
sador, are unnoticed and unanswered, or answered only
with haughty contemptuous reflections upon our countty,
insults upon our government and menaces against us for
not taking an active part in the war against England. Bo¬
naparte has declared to the world, that there shall be no
mutrals% TothePortuguese embassador he said explicitly,
" I will trample under foot all the principles of neutrality
and so hé has in his whole conduct towards this Country.
In what manner and with what spirit our rulers have
resisted these aggressions and insults, we have but a par¬
tial and imperfect knowledge, because they have not dar¬
ed to let us see any thing more than some scattered de¬
tached fragments of their correspondence with France;
From these fragments we can only leam that they have
4
26
expressed their concern at her high tone towsffds us
it should prove prejudicial to the French interest and
sen the number of their fnends. Speakii^ of the Frrach
decrees, Mr. Madison ^ms to regret them ^ castipj*
" a cloud over the amity between the two countries
and directs our embassador to ask for some " explaoai
tions," which may serve to soften the spirits of the people
here, but at the same time, cautions him to use. his ^ dis;.
cretion in so asking as not to give offence*
My hearers, if you mbtake the timidity^ meanness^
servility and abject submission of dependents and sbvec
for the gospel virtues of humility and meekness ; jraii
may rank our national rulers among the most exen^kif
saints, who, óelng smitten on the one cheeky tum thí otíttñ
also ¡ and being robbed of their eoaty surrender their ebak
also. But real saints are always consistent and show áe
same good temper towards all parties. Let us then, kde
upon the other side. Have they shown the same meeL
ness in their language and conduct towards Great Bnt>
ain ?. To her they have said in a questionable case, " "ïï»
United States cannot for a moment submit to such áv
fractions of their rights." Had this language been hdi
towards France, we should have escaped all controvei^
with Britain. While Mr. Madison affects to see nodmf
in the French decreès but an empty cloud pasring (WW
the amity between the two countries," he says of^
British orders, that they violated our rights, stokhdossí
interests, and superadded a bhtu at our national indepeo'
dence, and a mockery of (Hir understanding." The sub«
mission of our rulers to the decrees of France fora whok
twelvemonth, at last compelled the British cabinet inthdi
own defence, to issue those orders of which Mr. ¡hilé'
son speaks jn such spirited terms. »
*
st
Not agîdn to tnehtic»! Mr. JeSersöii*ä llaûghty rqec;-
lûon of a tfeaty framed by his own commissioners, and îâ
their judgment, essentially confo]rmabletohis instructions ;
^d our rulers show their pacific temper in that unaccom«
' Imodating, sullen and morose behaviour towards the Brit¬
ish naval officers which provoked their unwarranted aî>
tack upon our frigate ? Had the same facility in recover-
«
ing deserters, been aflbrded to the British which was ne^
Ver denied to the French ; that attack and all its subse-
. W \ ' %
jquent evils' would haye been avoided. Did the iheekness
of our rulers appear in the immediate vengeance inflicted
upon the British government while that government wa¿
as yet totally ignorant and guiltless of the wrong done by
its servants ? Did it appear in dieir refusal to cèase that
Vengeance as the coitdidon of receiving proffered compen¬
sation ; and*in their insolent rejection of a spefcial and
extraordinary envoy sent on purpose to make us all rea¬
sonable satisfaction ? Did it appear |n the irritating and
provoking language used in the arrangement with Mn
Erskiné F^language in itself a sufficient and justifying
reason for any independent government, sensible of its
pwn dignity, to disown and set aside, an arrangement car?
tying on its very face such insulting rudeness. Did their
ineek and pacific temper appear in their treatment of thé
fttccessor of Mi*. Erskine ?—-in'their first forbidding him
Id speak in their presence ? and in their refusing aftet«
ward to receive any communication from him whatever
either verbal or written, on account of a pretended Offencé
m his "writing, which offence no eyes but their own can
discern ?—What a glaring contrast do these particularé
in the words and actions of our rulers, form to their tamé
and submissive tone towards France under injuries iff-
pomparably greater and more aggravated f
$a
While a war with England is thus perseverii^jr^io.
yoked, our rulers well know that it is in her power todo
us more harm in one month, than we can receive in an
age from France—^the trident of the ocean continuing with
its present pos^ssor. We can account for their conduct
upon no other pmiciple but thb, that they have persuád*
^ themselves that England is now making her last ex*
piling efforts, and must soon fall and be lost in the gen^
ral wreck and rubbish of the other governments of Eui.
rope. Under this persuasion, they wax bold in veiuà^
their long cherished hatred of England ;■ and thidc it
good policy to placate the, cpnquerpr by crouchii^ at Us
feet. At an interview with tíie piinister of Austtia prç
ceding the last war mth that power, Bonaparte made this
declaration—*' I have sworn the destructipu of
and 1 tüill accomplish it." Mr. Jeffer^p has
doubted of the word of God ; but as a proof of hiskiil
faith in the yrqrd of Bonaparte, on the eighteenth di^ af
December 1807 he said in a public company, thatBuTr
AIN WOULp ÇXASE yo BE A NATION IN LESS THAV
TWO YEARS, In such positive language men are not
accustomed to predict events unpleasant to Aeir feelingl
Instead of contemplating the accomplishment of this pr^
diction with the horror which all wise and good mea
»
must feel at the bare apprehension of it ; Mr. Je&rson,
his cabinet, and whole par^at the southward, seem tohave
anticipated it with joy and exultatiqn* It has bera often
reported that the victories of Bonaparte are cdebçated at
Washington with as much eclat as at Paris. You woidd
pot doubt of the truth of these reports, were you to read
the government paper printed in that city. In all coun.
tries, the paper under the patronage of the chief rulers, i;
{Supposed to echo their sentiments, feelings and viei^
20
I theneforc aià your attention to the following extract from
such a paper printed at Washington : ** Austria is annir
M
hilated, forever subjugated beneath the dominion of
F ranee. We sincerely rejoice, not only because she dcar-
ed to oppose France ; but because she is now, and long
has been, an ally of Brvtain^ by whose speedy destruction
alone can the world find reposef:and the United States in
{>articular gain wealth and power. Britain, the grand cor-
-rupter erf the world, the common robber, the tyrant of the
5x:ean, the dastardly plunderer of defenceless nations ;—
Britain, whose speedy and inevitable destruction is morm
laid open to the arms of the sagacious conqueror ; of Na-r
4
polean, who has always treated these United States with
the most perfect friendlmess and magnanimity,^'* You will
mark these last words, " the most perfect friendliness and
imgnarwmty /" The Whole needs no comment, and can¬
not be more explicit. But are these the sentiments and
feelings of a neutral government ? In adulation of the ty¬
rant and in hostility against the English, they never were
«
nor can be exceeded in any publication at Paris. Will ,»
it still be said that there is no French influence, no parti¬
alis for France at Washington ?
My brethren, as we are republicans, and at this junc-
ture, the only republican people in the world ; does it not
jbelong to our character, might it not be expected from us
rather than from any other country, that we should exert
purselves in the cause of general liberty by sympathizing
with oppressed communities, by pleading the rights of
suffering humanity, by declaiming against all unjust wars
undertaken by ambition, or by a thirst for plunder ; and
by bearing pur indignant testimony against eyery act of
ruffian violence, every form of arbitrary power, every in-i
y^ipn of the rights of independent nations ? If partiality
âô
is to be s^wn upon any«ide, should itñot bé onthe sidfe
pf the cases now described ?
Permit me to bring before you the càse of the Span¬
ish patriots. You are sensible that all the forces of their
country and all its revenues were at the devotion of France
from the year 1795 to the year 1808# Whatever France
asked, Spain readily gave : No matter of complaint or
4
controversy subsisted. The one comnianded*-the othrt
submbsively obeyed.-!^All this did not satisfy the rulef
of France. He coveted the Spanish throne for one
&mily, and the treasures hoarded in their churches and in
the cofiPers of their nobility, to be distributed among hit
in3rrmidons. Fot the attaiitment of these objects, thn
bold, cunning, unrelenting conqueror planned the snbju»
gation and pillage of Spain. His intriguers, as so hiai^
pioneers, were sent forward to prepare the ?ray ; or ratlH
er, they were alreädy upcHi the ground. For ttey art
planted in every country, our own not excepted. " hac
cessible as we are at this moment to any other hióde of
aggression, this engine of subjection is urged against ni
with redoubled force and adroitness. These agents net»
er loiter in the discharge of tiieir functions. Or d^pupoQ
their watch. No means or instruments, however coo-
femptible in appearance, are neglected in the prosecatkrt
©f their plans." t
In Spain they spread thentselves every where and m®»
gled with all the grades of society, putting their varioui
and complicated arts and wiles in operation ; at wie tiHifiv
flattering promises ; at another, ambiguous threateningsf
alternately advancing or retreating, as cireumáanceí
seemed, to require ; now coming forward with bare-faced
unblushing falsehoods ; and anon, using open Viideoc«
" Like the lion hunters of old, Bonaparte drew hfevW»
31
tíms on in the course which he had prepared for them> by.
cajding and by irritation ; by soothing their appetites
and exciting their spirits, till at last, by trick and by open
f
violence, the royal beasts were driven into his toils, and
placed comj^etely at the disposal of their stem and artful
pursuer." In the mean while he had, under various pre4
texts and the most specious delusions, introduced his l&i^
gions into the heärt of the country-^-its own soldiers haw
ing been previously withdrawn into foreign and far dis«
tant regions. Thus he gained peaceable possession of
die strong holds, fortified cities, docks, àrsenals, magaw
«ines, and all the treasures of the country. Having com-f
pktely laid the snare, finished the plot in all its partsj he
^?ew off the mask and openly avowed his perfidy» t
\ The whole nation awoke as fi'om a dreamy thunder«
Strack and astonished. They rent the heavens with theit
cries. Fury and despair prompted them to fight even
without arms. They proclaimed their wrongs to the unij;
yerse. They called upon eveiy people and nation for aid-
They even crossed the Atlantic and, knowing that these
United States had once been in similar circumstances of
distress, they came knocking at our doors, crying for helpr
against their most insidious, cruel and ferocious oppress
çor.-r:îrIn what manner did our government receive them ?
Blush, O ye heavens, at the tale ! So powerful, not to say^
kifemal, is the French influence among us, that our trtie
republicans, so fer from sympathizing with this oppressed
I
people, seemed rather to congratulate the success of their
invader, and turning a deaf ear to the cries of his victims,
firawned upoh.their agonizing efforts. All honorable men
^shed the nation to express some sense of their injuries^
some feeling for their sufferings ; but when they address¬
ed the dtief n^gistrate upon the subject, Mr. Jefferson
32
«
■" coldly and barbarously replieid,that the comtbst tM-
Spain Was à mere struggle for power. Huisr
t
placing upon equal ground the generous exertions tiu-
free people to throw off tiie yoke of a foreign tyrant, iuid
the most shameful example of perfidy and unprincifded
force which the world had ever witilessedi"
But, my hearers, for a more full disclosure of the sea-k'
timents and feelings of. our cabinet towards die Bridsh
nation, as well as towards the Spanish patriots, 1 must ask-
your attention to another extract from their paper, wit-
ten, not improbably, by some or other of themselves : It
• #
is thus addressed to us all ; " Citizens of the Umted
States, free and independent, virtuous and enlightened re¬
publicans, be not deceived ; listen not to accounts from'
England, the grand arsenal in which lies are foiged for
universal diffusion over the whdie earth, respecting
«
the corvoardLy Spaniards are bribed by that whore of Bab-'
ylon, England, who has made all the nations of the wodd
drunk with her abominations, her fasts, her blasphemies
her murders, her piracies, her impieties, her cowardfy mo¬
nopolies ; the hast,frattduleni Spaniards, I say, are brib-
ed by England to resist the lawful domination of the mi§^
ty Napolean, whose whole life and actions have been ê*
rected to ameliorate the cmidition of suiforing humi^f
to break the fetters of feudal despotism, and to enaldefiie
natural energies of man once more to walk abroad, md
to render perfect in happiness the whole federal com¬
monwealth of nations."
" But the vagabond banditti, Spaniards, corupted
by the gold and the false promises of Britain, resist is
vain ; Napolean by the chastening correcáoe of war, wä
soon subdue the whole peninsula, and purify its ev^
corner by the presence of his numerous and imiacibfo
levons. Then will he quickly tura upon the Bri^
IMes, and with one irresistible invasion annihilate their
existence forever, and scatter all their inhabitants as out>,
»
casts and vagabonds.—^Britain is now destined to imme¬
diate and richly merited vengeance and extermination."
" Is there an honest democrat-^—is there one real, gen¬
uine, pure republican, whose bosom does not beat high
with exultation at the unparalleled successes of France,
and the approaching inevitable destruction of the whole
British nation ?"
• ^ * A
My hearers, till I met witii this publication, I could
not have conceived that there was any comer of the civ-.
»
ilized world where such sentiments would have been'
broached« That they should have been written by repub*
Ucans—^thát they should have bsued from a city bearing
the name of Washington, a name associated with what¬
ever b honest, just, true, humane, liberal, generous, no¬
ble, virtuous and praise-worthy-—is a most melancholy
proof that beings more malignant and infernal inhabit that
city now, than were those who dwelt in the cities of Sod¬
om and Gomorrah of old. If Jefferson, Giles, and com-^
«
pany—if the true republicans of Virginia and the south-
em states, be men of such sentiments and affections ; I
have so much charity for those bearing the same name in
%
New England, as fully to believe that, did they know the
real character of these their southern brethren, they would
detest them as heartily as did the late Hon. Fisher Ames,
who knew them well.
As a proof that the practice of these true republicans
at the southward, corresponds with their principles, I will
bring to your recollection a notorious fact published, not
perhaps iñ the Independent Chronicle and Patriot Bos¬
ton, but in all the federal papers, the truth of which fact I
5
9
54
have however learnt from a source stifl moie autheotib« '
During the course of the last year a poor man at ßaltimoref^
said upon some occasion, that he hoped Bonaparte would
never be able to conquer and enslave England^" This
being heard by the honest democrats of that city, fliey
0
collected about him, stript him naked, covered him with
tar and feathers, and tore out one of hb eyes. Ei^t
these rioters were afterward indicted* During 4eif
trial, the mob surrounded the court house, and threaten¬
ed to murder the lawyers, judges and jury, if their broth*
*
er patriots were not immediately acquitted.-^The priso¬
ners however were found guilty, and condemned to pay
a paltry fine, and be im[HÍsoned a few months." Mr*
4
Wright, the governor of that State, a gentleman who has
heretofore been distingubhed in Congress for hb true re-
püblicanisra~in conformity to the example of hb ad*
mired friend Mr. Jefferson, in pardoning a man convicted
of forgery, reversing the sentence of the law agmnst Cal-
lender and remitting to him hb fine after it had becomd
the property of the nation, and in arbitrarily and ill^jaDy
stopping the prosecution ordered by the Senate of the
United States against the infamous Duane »-Govemor
Wright, treading in these steps of President Je&rsoo,
pardoned those eight jacobin butchers, remjtting
fines and dbcharging them from prison, that diey n^it
Continue their useftil operations in the cause of liberty«
This motive for his conduct he openly avowed and pub*
lished in the newspapers, observing, " That he did not,
in the present critical state of tlie world, deem it exped-
cnt to check the generous enthusiasm of the peo|de of
'Maryland in favor of liberty."—You will observe that
ike 'ljberty here meant by Governor Wright, conrists in
wbhing that France may conquer and enslave Et^kmd
35
neutral are our rulers, thus impartíal toward -the
belligerents, thus free from all French influence !
r
Conquer and enslave England ! What can these ma-.
niacs, not to call them fiends, mean by thus breathing the
qjiiit of the ravager of Europe ? In one of those quota-
dons from the cabinet paper at Wáshington just recited,
you may remember, were these words, " by whose speedy
destruction alone (meaning that of Britain) can these Uf
nited States gain wealth and power." Do our true re¬
publicans then, expect to idiare with the conqueror, the
plunder of that kingdom ? Aaron Burr who, a few years
since was, in their esteem, the second best man in the U-
• »
pited States, riow a wanderer in Europe and not utilikely
to fall into the ranks of Bonaparte ; should he be in at
the death of the British lion, may perhaps obtain his part
in the spoil ; but for the rest of Bonaparte's friends at
Washington, whatever promises he may have made them,
the probability is that, in those promises they will real-
%
ize Gallic faith, Seriously their expectations upon this
Kore, cannot be very sanguine. We mqst search deep¬
er for their motives.
The British are a great mercantile nation, • Above
all the other occupations and pursuits of men, a great and
extended commerce spreads and circulates general infor-
ination, generates habits' of liberal and useful research,
4 *
creates a loye of indusfry and of the arts of peace, fortifies
die moral virtues of truth, justice and good faith ; pro¬
duces a spirit independence and the love of liberty j
gives a latitude to the discilssions of men, and furnishes
them with the means and opportunities of compariscxi ;
tenders them averse to violence and rapine, jealous of
their natural and civil rights, and indignant at eveiy spe¬
cies of oppression. AU these effects of commerce bear
0
S6
hard upon the personal character of Bonaparte,and in
T I * f
their nature and tendency, ^ calculated to undermine'
%
the very foundations of his power, of both his domestic*
and foreign despotism. For these reasons, commerce
the object of his utmost hatred. To a deputation of mer¬
chants at Hamburgh some years since, he said, I detest
commerce and all its concerns."* To his own subjects'
«
he has often repeated the same langage. To a petiticm
of the Bordeaux merchants in the year 1808, thb was hb
reply, " that it was the emperor's will not to have any
commerce, but to restore Europe to the condition of the
fourth century." ' -
We cannot much wonder if the motives by which Bo-
%
ñaparte is influenced, have some weight with the slave h(d-
ders and slave drivers in our southern states, and lead
them, in a degree, to coalesce with him in the hatred of
commerce. But neither he nor they can hope for its ex<r
#
tirpation while England continues to exhibit to the rest
of the world, such an alluring example of its advantages.
I •
If Bonaparte thought himself not safe while any of the
members pf the house of Bourbon sat upon a throne b
»
Europe, he has infinitely more to dread from the conh
Í
* This is precisely what might be expected from the first bom s(m of dft
malignant author of all evil : It is perfectly in character for Am to
nations of the world, to exercise, in the açpurate language of Preddent Mad*
ison, their ^stnctive energies" in standing aloof from one another, having no
intercourse either by land or water ; and nevpr visiting only aS Bonaparte
%
does, for the purposes of violence and rapine. vBut, to the hm^;inatioaoftee
christian or the philanthropist, no idea can be more delightful, fhanthatof
men dispersed over the face of the whole earth and inhabiting all its differ¬
ent regions, carrying on a friendly intercourse with one another, recipro¬
cally ^commodating each other viith whatever is peculiar to their respec¬
tive climates, geniuses, arts, npd invention. When all the tribes of tho
earth shall be tlius employed, thus mutually benefitting each other—we may
believe that their common Father in heaven, will look down upon them inü^
«
a degree of that complacency which his countenance beams upon the myr
riads of happy beings in the world above.
37
«
meí^ of such a nation as the British, accompanied, as it
is, with the highest improvements in knowledge and in
liberty. Hence he has vowed their destruction ; and by
his intrigues universally extended, has brought his friends
m this, and in every other country, to favor his design.
Many, no doubt, in all the neighbouring countries, envy
the astonishing prosperity of Britain ; but envy is a pas¬
sion of demons,' wholly unfounded in nature and reason.
The late Hon. Thomas Russell was for some years, the
most successful and eimnent merchant in our neighbour¬
ing capital. Bad men might envy him, but all good men
esteemed him an honor and a blessing to his (^untiy, the.
extent of his business furnishing employment tp numbers ;
its profits, in one way and another, benefitting yet greater
numbers ; and his skill and industry holding (orth an ex-
^ i
ample to all, exciting emulation and encouraging enter¬
prise. What such an individual is to his town and coun-
Hy, a nation highly commercial above others, is to the
neighbouring nations and to the whole world. Her com¬
mercial prosperitj^, so far from injuring any, jbenefits all.
Great Britain is at this moment, the main spring of motion
to the great mercantile machine, the whole trading œcon-
••«my of the world. Were she destroyed, more than half
' • \
'tíié commerce of this country would perish with her, arid
all our privileges and happiness would soon be buried in
«
her tomb. Even France herself would suffer incalculable
damage, and " the aggregate of the whole world's wealth,
'industry, spirit, enterprise, intelligence, morality, religion
and every thing which conduces to man's happiness, would
.be dreadfully dimmished!." A most frightful void, a hor¬
rible chasm would be made in the great fund of human
excellence and happiness.
Puring the last seventeen years, though engaged in a
39
most éxpensive war foi" the preservation of the order fO#
civilization of the world, Biitain hîis expende4
more than twelve millions of pounds sterling in
4
clothing, and instructing the poor. Nor have her bene»
factions and charities been confiiied to her own subjects;
They have been extended în a rich profusion, to thousaiids
of French fugitives, and occasionally spread amixig the
various nations 6f Italy, Germany,' and 3pain, suffering
under the ravages of war. During this period too, she
has abolished the slave trader broken many of the dd yokes
of oppressimi, arid set on foot numerous plains for extend«
mg the blessmgs of civilization and true reUgimi anu»g
barbarous and pagan nations dwelling in all quartos of
tiré globe. Societies fpr these purposes, have been
éd over the whole British empire, humane, missionaiy and
bible societies, more than I Can enumerate. ' Immensti
sums have been expended in sending the Bible into cot*
tages and prisons, among seamen and soldiers, to dl deV
scriptions the lower classes of people. They have aí»
so made editions of it in all the langages of £ur(^ and
dispersèd if in every country. They are now translata^
it into the various languages of Asia and Africa, and sod«
ingthis heavenly light intoall the dark re^ons die glob^ ,
While England has been - bringing fcnth these irnitsdf
righteousness for the general benefit of the human laeej
some lateaccounts from that country state, that a s|Hrit <4
»
piety and morality has revived and is now apparaidy floor«
ishing among the various sects of christians comporit^ her
own subjects. Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Dissenters,
Baptists and Metliodists. ;
The Lord blesseth the labor of the rightems and a»
tablisheth the work of their hands. They shall be recom
pensed in the earth. To what extent tbe Bfitiefa as a na«
»
^ve entitled thenlselves toi this blessing, is perfectf
tyktiown to God oidy ; but he has most viâbly bestow^
, td it Upon them by enabling them to stand erect and un«
^smayed amidst the &11 and ruin of all the other nations
and kingdoms around them. He has also wonderfully
prospered their industry and enterprise^ and given them
whatever exalts a nation, whatever contributes to its hon«
or and happiness« .A native ,of Our oiVn country lately
returned from exploring that, says, ** there dtjes not ex*
ist and neVer has existed elsewhere so b^utiful and per*
♦
feet a model of public and private prospmty ; so mag*
nificent and, at the same time, so solid a fabric of social
happiness and national grandeur." He then adds, ** it
appears sometliing not less than impious to desire the ruin
of this people i and when we recollect that it is from them
We derive the principal merit oí our own character, the
best of our own institutions, the sources of our highest
enjoyments and the light of. freedom itself—*it is worse
^ I
than ingratitude not to sympathie with ^m in. their
present struggle.'lCl .
This however is the people, whose destruction Bona>
pate has sworn and Jefferson has predicted.«-*«" We
thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and - earth, tiiat
tiuni hast not suffered the oath of the one orfthe prophe¬
cy of the other, to be accomplished—^that thou hast pour.«
ed contempt upon the wrath of man, upon the open hus¬
kily of France andf tiie secret covered grudge and malice
oí the Ameripan govmiment, so over-ruling the French
decrees and die American embargoes, devised, .on pur¬
pose for the ruin of Britain, as to render them subservi¬
ent to the increase of her revenue and the extension of
S
her commerce
Besides, the lueasures .and plots already mentioned ;
40
through the influence and management of oiir
and Absaloms, half the newspapers of this countcy^
ing after that of the government, of which I have jaU.
given you specimens ; hâve been for years past, con¬
stantly filled with the grossest abuse of England) and
with the most impudent unblushing falsehoods in favor
of France, studiously and systematically vindicating all
her measures, denying or, excusing all her atrocities ;
while the Whole has been greedily swallowed by their
deluded readers, ^nd all better informaticm wilfully and
obstinately rejected* ' Thus all moral dktí^^ctíons have
been confounded, and darkness put for flgjfcrt: and light for
darkness in a sense the most criminal wd aggravatedly
guilty. I These things, as a minister of religbo, I sd- ■
emnly denounce as the crying sins of the land, a treadii^
on in the steps of the Father of lies, the Accuser of the
brethren, of Apollyon the destroyer. These sins have
brought reproach and infamy upon the country already ;
and if persisted in, will prove its ruin, the loss, not of its
commerce only, but of all its priyileges and h^pkiess.
They are a manifest siding with the great adversaiy of
God and man. The strong prepossessions of so great a
proportion of my fellow-citizens in favor of a race rf de¬
mons and against a nation of more reli^on, virtue,
faith, generosity, and beneficence, than any other
I
now is or ever has been upon the face of the earth, wrii^
my soul with anguish and fill my heart with apprehen-
âon and terror of the judgments of Heavei^upon this sin¬
ful people. #
THE CONííEXlOrf BETWEEN THE DUTIES OP THE PULPIT
AND THE PASTORAL OFFICE.
AN
INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS
DELIVERED TO THE
MEMBERS OF THE THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL
IN CAMBRIDGE,
OCTOBER 18 AND 25, 1830.
BT HENRY WARE JR.,
PROFESSOR OF PULPIT ELOQUENCE AND THE PASTORAL CARE.
PUBLISHED BT BEQUEST.
CAMBRIDGE :
MILLIARD AND BROWN.
1830.
CAMBRIDGE, E. W. METCALF AND CO.,
Printers to the University.
DIVINITY SCHOOL
OP THE
UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE
CAMBRIDGE PRESS;
METCALFy TORRY, AND B A L I. O V .
DIVINITY SCHOOL
Professor Palfrey respectfully requests gen¬
tlemen, into whose hands the following memoranda
of the history of the. School, for twenty-ßve years,
may come, to furnish him {free of postage) with such
corrections as they may be able to make.
August 10th, 1S36.
In the autumn of 1811, Dr. Ware, Hollis Professor,
began a course of exercises with the resident Students
in Divinity. At this time, the following gentlemen be¬
came his pupils ; viz.—
Messrs. Joseph Allen (A. B. 1811), John Dudley An¬
drews (1810), Lemuel Capen (1810), Jonathan Peale
Dabney (1811), David Damon (1811), Charles Eliot
(1809), George Bethune English (1807), Edward Everett
(1811), Samuel Oilman (1811), Joseph Haven (1810),
Francis Jackson (1810), Cyrus Pierce (1810), Thomas
Prentiss (1811), Hiram Weston (1811),
Between the autumns of 1811 and 1818, the following
gentlemen commenced their studies, under the direction
of Dr. Ware and of Mr. Andrews Norton, who in 1813
was appointed Dexter Lecturer in Biblical Literature.
They also attended President Kirkland in a few exercises
in Dogmatic Theology, Professor Willard in Hebrew,
4
i
and Professor Frisbie, (after his appointment in 1817,) in
Ethics. As there is no record of the time when they
entered on theological studies, their names are arranged
in the order of the College Catalogue, with the exception
of the last four, who are not graduates of Harvard Col¬
lege.
Messrs. Thomas Tracy (1806), Henry Ware (1812),
Charles Folsom, Rufus Hurlbut, and Thomas Savage
(1813), John Allyn, Andrew Bigelow, Francis William
Pitt Greenwood, Alvan Lamson, Peter Osgood, and James
Walker (1814), Charles Briggs, Lyman Buckminster,
Stevens Everett, Convers Francis, Elisha Puller, Richard
Manning Hodges, George Goldthwait Ingersoll, Levi
Washburn Leonard, Joseph Orne, George Otis, John
Gorham Palfrey, and Jared Sparks (1815), Charles
Brooks, William Bourn Oliver Peabody, William Ware,
and Azariah Wilson (1816), George Bancroft, Ira Henry
Thomas Blanchard, Samuel Brimblecom, Samuel Atkins
Eliot, Benjamin Fessenden, Francis Jenks, Samuel Jo¬
seph May, Robert Folger Wallcutt, and Francis William
Winthrop (1817); Silas Allen, J Barker,
Bryant, John Pierporil.*
In December, 1815, the President and Fellows issued
their circular, soliciting funds in aid of the Divinity
School. About thirty thousand dollars were collected, and
the " Society for promoting Theological Education in
Harvard University " was formed. The first Annual Visi¬
tation, for the reading of dissertations, is believed to have
taken place December 17th, 1817.
In the autumn of 1818, the following gentlemen com¬
menced their studies; viz.—
* A. B. Yale. (Graduates of other Colleges are all, as far as known, de¬
signated as such in the margin.)
I
6
Messrs. Jesse Chickering, James Delap Farnsworth,
John Fessenden, John Flagg, Samson Reed, Thomas
Russell Sullivan, John Hubbard Wilkins, Lot Wiswall,
and Thomas Worcester.
August 10th, 1819, Mr. Norton was inaugurated Dexter
Professor of Biblical Literature. Before the autumn of
this year, no distinction of classes had existed. At that
time, the students were divided into three classes ; and the
following classes, down to 1828 inclusive, are arranged
according to the time when they began their studies.
1819. Messrs. Samuel Barrett, Jonathan Farr, James Di¬
rnau Green, George Rapall Noyes, John
Porter, Charles Robinson.
William Farmer, William Henry Furness,
Ezra Stiles Gannett, Henry Hersey, Ben¬
jamin Kent, Calvin Lincoln.
Eliphalet Porter Crafts, Edward Brooks
Hall, Charles Wentworth Upham, Alex-
der Young.
Nathanael Gage, Samuel Presbury.
Frederic H Allen, Warren Burton, Al-
phonso Hill, James Augustus Kendall,
George Leonard, Isaac Parsons, George
Ripley, Stephen Schuyler, George Wads-
worth Wells. •
Daniel Austin, George Washington Burnap,
Caleb Stetson, Christopher Tappan Thay¬
er, William H White, William Au¬
gustus Whitwell.
* March 25th of this year, thè President and Fellows issued
their circular, asking aid towards the erection of a building.
® Nov. 17th, 1824, a new Constitution was adopted, vesting the
immediate government of the School in the Directors of the So¬
ciety for promoting Theological Education " See.
1820. "
1821.
1822.1 "
1823. "
1824.®
6
1825.^ Messrs. Benjamin Brigham, George Bradford, Jona¬
than Cole, Wendell Bayard Davis, Fred¬
erick Augustus Farley, George Fiske,
Frederick Henry Hedge, Samuel Kirk-
land Lothrop, William Parsons Lunt,
Artemas Bowers Muzzy, John Langdon
Sibley, Moses Thomas.
1826.^ " Horatio Alger, David Hatch Barlow, Ste¬
phen A Barnard, William Barry, Her-
sey Bradford Goodwin, William Newell,
Cazneau Palfrey. William S Prentiss,
George Whitney.
1827. " Julian Abbot, Stephen Greenleaf Bui finch,*
Joseph Hawley Dorr, George Washing¬
ton Hosmer, Josiah Moore, John Owen,f
Ephraim Peabody,! Allen Putnam, George
Putnam, John Turner Sargent, David
Southard, Oliver Stearns.
1828.^ " Charles Francis Barnard, Alanson Brigham,
Addison Brown, George Chapman, Joseph
Warren Cross, Edward H Edes,
Henry F Edes, J Thomas Bayley Fox,
Josiah Dunham Hedge, George Nichols,
William Reed,I John Lewis Russell, Wil-
^ In January, 1825, a circular was issued by the Directors,
asking aid towards the erection of a building. About sixteen
thousand dollars were obtained, and the corner-stone of Divinity
College was laid July 6th.
® August 29th, Divinity College was dedicated. About this
period Dr. Folien gave instruction, in the School, in the depart¬
ment of Ethics.
^ Sept. 9th, the Directors issued their circular, soliciting aid
towards the establishment of a Professorship of Pulpit Eloquence
and the Pastoral Care. The sum asked for was speedily furnish¬
ed, and the Rev. Henry Ware jr. was elected to that chair.
* A. B. Col. t A. B. Bowd. t A. B. Brown.
7
liam Gray Swett, James H Thomson,
Jason Whitman.
Professor Ware jr., having returned from Europe, was
i
inaugurated in October, 1830. February 3d, 1831,
" Statutes relating to the Theological Department
in Harvard University" were confirmed by the Over¬
seers. With their adoption the functions of the Directors
ceased, and the " Society for promoting Theological
Education in Harvard University " became disconnected
from the School, under the name of the " Society for
promoting Theological Education." April 5th, 1831, Rev,
John Gorham Palfrey was inaugurated Professor of Bib¬
lical Literature, and the same evening a new body of
rules for the government of the School was promulgated
in the Chapel. Down to this period, students had been
in the habit of leaving the School, at various stages of
the course, to enter the pulpit. The practice was now
discontinued. Accordingly, the later classes are arranged
under the respective years of their regular dismission.
1832. Messrs. Joseph Angier, Charles Babbidge, Reuben
Bates, Curtis Cutler, Charles Andrews
Farley, Rufus A Johnson, Henry
A Miles,* Andrew Preston Peabody,
JohnD Sweet,* Josiah Kendall Waite,
Horatio Wood.
1833. William E Abbot,f William Andrews,
William Henry Channing, James Free¬
man Clarke, Samuel Adams Devens,
Theophilus Doggett, Samuel May, Al¬
bert Clarke Patterson, Chandler Robbins,
Samuel D Robbins, Linus H
Shaw, Henry Augustus Walker.
* A. B. Brown. t A. B. Bowd.
8
1834. Messrs. George Ware Briggs,* Richard Sullivan
Edes,* William Greenleaf Eliot,f Nathan-
ael Hall, Frederick West Holland, George
Wheelock Woodward. |
1835. " Cyrus Augustus Bartol,*§) Asarelah Morse
Bridge, Charles Timothy Brooks, Edgar
Buckingham, Christopher Pearse Cranch,f
Barzillai Frost, Samuel Osgood, John
Parkman, Harrison Gray Otis Phipps,
George Matthias Rice,I| James Thurs¬
ton.
1836. " Samuel Page Andrews, Richard Thomas
Austin,^ John Sullivan Dwight, George
Edward Ellis, Oliver Capen Everett,
Abiel Abbot Livermore, Theodore Par-^
ker, William Silsbee.
* A. B. Brown. t A. B. Col. $ A. B. Dart. § A. B. Bowd.
II A. B. Harn.
INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS
On meeting for the first time in this new relation,
our thoughts are naturally directed to the Object for
which this office has been instituted, and the Purpos¬
es which it is designed to accomplish. These are
indicated with sufficient distinctness in its title. Leav¬
ing to other chairs the discipline which is to form
Theologians, and furnish the teachers of the church
with the requisite learning, it is the ofiice of this to
regard them in the light of Preachers and Pastors, and
train them to the eloquence demanded for the pulpit,
and the prudence and affections that must guide in the
parish walk.
The connexion thus suggested between the Elo¬
quence of the Pulpit and the Pastoral Care, is real
and natural. These two branches go together and
sustain each other. The minister is the better Preach¬
er for having his heart warmed by intercourse with
his hearers in private ; and he goes to them in pri¬
vate with the greater infiuence and effect, because
he carries with him the sacredness and sanction of
the Pulpit. The full power of the Christian Ministry
can be known only where both departments are ex¬
ercised with faithfulness ; and he entirely errs, who
«
4
fancies that he may neglect either, and yet command
the best success in the other. It is to the union of
the two, that we must look for the efficient and com¬
plete minister. And I think that we cannot better
introduce our labors in this department, than by
attempting to .illustrate this important truth.
In order to this, it may be well, first of all, to state
our idea of the terms we are using.
When we speak, then, of Eloquence, as an essen¬
tial requisite for the Preacher, and as something to be
taught, we do not mean that high and singular gift, that
extraordinary combination of powers and attainments,
which the books describe as the property of the Ora¬
tor ; for men so splendidly endowed are but few in
an age, and the church, if it must depend on them,
would soon perish for want of advocates. But so
far from being necessary, it is not certain that this
highest eloquence is advantageous, or even desira¬
ble, in the pulpit. At any rate, it is not this which
our institutions propose to teach, or which our stu¬
dents aim to acquire. What we propose is, simply,
the power and habit to select judiciously, arrange
clearly, and express forcibly and fervently, the topics
suited to the pulpit, and to utter them in that distinct,
correct, and pleasant elocution, which shall ensure
for them the attention of the people. Thus much is
capable of being learned ; and this is what we mean
by Pulpit Eloquence, when we propose it as some¬
thing to be attained.
By the Pastoral Care we understand that duty
toward individuals and families, which consists in per¬
sonal acquaintance and intercourse for the purpose
of knowing the character and condition of the flock,
5
that so the minister may be ready to seize opportu¬
nities of usefulness among them in either their tempo¬
ral or spiritual relations, — by giving counsel, instruc¬
tion, reproof, encouragement, consolation, according
to situation and character. We do not regard it as
consisting in what appears sometimes to be understood
by the term, — the custom of simply visiting as a friend,
or making calls from house to house ; much less, cer¬
emonious and party visiting, or social tea-drinkings.
Some ministers have much intercourse with their
people, or rather with a certain portion of them, in
this way ; but this is not doing pastoral duty. - Social
visiting is well. It has its uses ; indirectly, its re¬
ligious uses. But pastoral visiting has directly its re¬
ligious uses. The Pastor goes " from house to house,"
like the Apostles, with an expressly religious object ;
and he executes it, not only in sympathizing with
the joys and sorrows of his people, and administer¬
ing advice in sickness, and comfort in affliction ; but
also in communing with them on their religious inter¬
ests, and applying himself to their spiritual ignorance,
trials, doubts, perplexities, and progress. It is to
this that we especially refer, when we speak of the
advantages he must derive as a Preacher from the
discharge of his duties as a Pastor.
The Importance and Necessity of the connexion
between the labors of the Pulpit and of the Pastoral
charge, may be discerned, first, in the nature of the
object to be accomplished by the ministry. The minis¬
try is designed to act on the characters of 'men,
through the truths and motives of the gospel, so as
to bring them in subjection to religious principle, and
thus fit them for everlasting happiness. Not simply
6
to give instruction in religion, or gain assent to the
doctrines of revelation ; but so to press them upon
men, that their characters shall be made conforma¬
ble to them. Now character is a very complicated
thing, dependent on a vast variety of circumstances
and influences. Of these the pulpit can never furnish
but a small proportion ; and if none other be exerted
in behalf of truth and heaven, the character of most
men will be formed more from the prevalent influences
of the world, than the holier agency of the ministry.
To render this agency sufficient, it must be brought in¬
to operation at other times and in other relations—^
amidst the actual pressure of the circumstances and tri¬
als of life. And this is precisely what is attempted by
adding the watchfulness of the Pastor to the eloquence
of the Preacher.
The necessity of this junction may be seen, again,
in the nature of Preaching, taken in connexion with
the character of the congregations addressed. Preaching
is instruction and exhortation addressed to a promis¬
cuous audience of men and women of every rank, order,
and age, with the view, as I have said, to influence and
form their characters. And who does not know the ex¬
treme, the almost insurmountable difficulty, of so ad¬
dressing a promiscuous assembly, that all shall under¬
stand and be affected? Such are the varieties of situ¬
ation and education, of intelligence, disposition, and
habit, of modes of life and thought, experience and
trials, moral advancement and religious attainment,
that a preacher may speak most instructively to some,
while to others he is talking unintelligibly and idly.
How necessary then, that he have other occasions
and methods of access to them, than the formal com-
7
munications of the desk ! And where is he to find
these, but in the opportunities of the Pastoral Office 1
How otherwise can he reach, or know whether he
»
reaches, a large portion of the minds committed to
him ?
We shall further discern this necessity, if we re¬
flect, that the advancement of religion and the diffu¬
sion of its blessings, are just in proportion to its action
upon individuals, and its effect upon single charac¬
ters. We are too ready to regard Christianity as
designed to operate on society, and accomplish a
great work for the progress and reformation of the
world. Even when we look at a single parish, we
are too apt to see it in this general view, and address
it as a community, rather than as a collection of in¬
dividuals. In consequence of which, our preaching
is general and vague, our aim uncertain, our exertions
top little direct and concentrated, and our success
doubtful and partial. Now this barren generality
in preaching, proper views of the pastoral office
would do much to correct. We should then come
down to individuals ; our great object would be the
improvement, and welfare of certain persons, for
whose particular case we are concerned. We should
understand their wants, trials, and dangers, and be
anxious to apply to them the faith and power of the
gospel. We should think our work best done, when
we found that the very persons with whom we hold
daily intercourse in the common walks of life, have
been led one by one to think of God and duty, and
prepare for the retributions of a future world. This
action on individuals would tend peculiarly to warm
our hearts, and enkindle a generous zeal within us.
8
It Would animate us in our studies. It would give
life, particularity, and directness to our preaching ;
and it would prove the most effectual way of pro¬
ducing tiat general improvement, which we so desire
to witness in society.
Such being the necessity and importance of the
connexion between these two branches of ministe¬
rial action, let us proceed to consider the support
which each furnishes to the other.
I. And FIRST, of the support which the Pastoral
Care furnishes to the Pulpit. This may be seen in
relation both to the actual labors of the pulpit, and
the preparation for them.
1. We will begin with the preparation for them.
Nothing is of so much consequence here, as the spirit
in which this preparation is made. If it be done
simply as the inevitable routine of a professional call¬
ing ; or as an intellectual exercise ; or an exhibition
of talent ; or a rhetorical display ; it is evident that
the moral state of the preacher's mind is altogether un¬
favorable to the production of a truly religious effect.
He has no proper apprehension of the subject he is
treating, and not entering into it rightly himself, he can¬
not rightly represent it to others, nor attract to it their
regard. We are not to wonder that those who thus
go to the pulpit, miserably fail of all valuable influ¬
ence ; and that religion becomes heartless and dead
under the management of men, who have no higher
aim than to get through their stipulated task as hire¬
lings. Religion is so much a matter of sentiment
and sympathy, that the universal rule of oratory is in
no other profession so true as in this, — that the most
efficient speaker is he who most throws his own soul
9
into his eloquence. Now to enable him to do this —
to prevent the weekly duty of preparation from de¬
generating into a mechanical performance, or selfish
ambition from taking place of the hearty disinterest¬
edness of a Christian preacher, the pastoral office is
an essential aid. The man who is familiar with the
situation, trials, and wants of those whom he ad¬
dresses ; who goes up to the pulpit from their fire¬
sides and their chambers, — full of interest in their
characters, and sympathy with their condition, — feels
that he is not meeting a congregation in the ab¬
stract, but men and women whom he knows and
cares for, and who are waiting to catch from him
something which will suit their necessities, and be
for their guidance and improvement. He cannot sit
down, and prepare for such an assembly a dry dis¬
sertation in metaphysical philosophy, or a learned
criticism on an unimportant text, or a sentimental
essay of which he has studied only the ornaments and
graces. But, urged by natural and spontaneous emo¬
tions, impelled by the current of his own affections,
with perfect directness, and that best of all energy
which results from simplicity of purpose, where all is
real, and nothing affected, artificial, or forced,—he
will prepare an address suited to their actual condition,
and with a single view to their profit. As Butler
observes there is a certain unity, so is it equally true
there is a certain power, " in the words of one who
writes with simplicity and in earnest;" — a power,
which perhaps is nowhere seen more strikingly con¬
trasted with weakness, than in the case of the preach¬
er, who prepares a set discourse on religion without
any acquaintance with the actual religious wants of
2
10
man, and as an intellectual exercise alone, — and of
him who, glowing with sympathy for his flock, thinks
only of imparting instruction and pressing upon them
expostulation, as a friend with a friend, or a parent
with his children.
2. Beyond this general effect, which lies in the
state of his affections, the pastoral relation aids the
preacher's preparation by directing him in the profit¬
able choice of subjects. It is quite obvious, that in the
vast fields of theological and moral truth, there is
room for infinite variety of choice. If one select from
this variety at random or at the suggestion of the
moment, he may indeed frame excellent discourses
on most important questions ; yet if they be not suited
to the character and wants of the hearers, he will be
a thoroughly unprofitable preacher. So also if he
follow the bias and taste of his own mind, and the
train of his favorite studies, he may treat great sub¬
jects, and treat them well ; but while he gratifies
himself, he may neither please nor benefit the con¬
gregation. The only just rule, by which to decide
among the ten thousand subjects and texts which
may suggest themselves, is, their fitness to do good
to the particular class of persons addressed. And
what will enable one to determine this point so cor¬
rectly and judiciously, as the intercourse of the pas¬
toral relation 1 He who holds that relation, knows
what instruction is needed by them and useful to
them. He is at no loss to decide what classes of topics
he should treat. They are pointed out to him in his
daily walks, and in the character and condition of all
around him. When he sits down to the labor of com¬
position, he finds them springing up in his mind, sug-
11
gested by some interesting event which has occurred,
by some question he has been asked, by some conver¬
sation he has held, by some character he has observ¬
ed ; and in treating them he knows and sees thej very
individuals who will drink in his words like thirsty
men, and rejoice in the refreshment and strength he
imparts. What a prodigious help has he here ! No
languor and vacuity of mind to be roused and inspir¬
ed, no unwilling drudgery, no heartless task-work ;
but warm, stirring, interesting occupation, — such as
he only knows, who can unite the delightful glow
which attends a successful intellectual exercise, with
the affectionate serenity that waits on him who is en¬
gaged in the moral improvement of others.
.3. The same remark holds good in respect to the
mode of treating and illustrating his subjects. His
pastoral relation will help to give an air of reality and
suitableness to the whole method of discussion, and
to the topics of argument and elucidation. Instead of
being compelled painfully to seek them, and bring
them by effort from afar, he will find them ready at
hand, springing up all around him. He will not re¬
ject them because they are familiar. He will not be
fastidious about their grace and beauty. He will
speak to his people freely, as he would to one who
should privately ask advice in his study, — anxious
neither for profoundness of views nor elegance of
diction, but only to make himself understood and
felt. He will thus be led, I might almost say instinct¬
ively, to the most efficient and persuasive course ;
while another, studying out the same subject without
the same application to real life, and with no guide but
his scholastic rules of composition and the formal
1-2
dicta of logicians and rhetoricians, would go astray
«
into useless subtilties and artificial declamation.
This is especially true in regard to that class of
topics, which concerns the action of Christian truth
on the mind and heart, and the exercises of the soul
in its religious course. He that would preach profit¬
ably, must exhibit these faithfully and truly. He must
treat of the emotions and confiicts that are going on
within, and the strong trials and glorious aspirations
of our spiritual nature, as things of fact and experi¬
ence ; an experience, which in its full extent, embra¬
ces every subject of thought and duty, affection and
devotion, hope, fear, faith, and action, which can in¬
terest a pious mind, and make up the history of a
responsible being. And this he must do in such
manner as shall come home to the business and bos-
oms of those who hear, shall awaken a response in
their hearts, shall refiect their image to themselves,
and minister to them the needful guidance, admoni¬
tion, consolation, and peace. For such a work, how
valuable the preparation of the pastoral walk! It
sends him back to his study fresh and glowing from
intercourse with minds into whose recesses he has
been admitted, inquisitive for truth, anxious for heaven,
disturbed with doubt, shaken with remorse, trem¬
bling with despondency, overwhelmed by afihctiom
depressed by misfortune, struggling with temptation,
or rejoicing in faith and hope ; and he is prepared to
treat the topics I have mentioned, with a feeling and
reality which study never could have imparted, with a
clearness and force which meditation and books
never could have supplied.
13
I know no cure for false rhetoric like this. And when¬
ever I witness the grandiloquence of the sophomore
in the pulpit,— when I hear there the flashy common¬
places of flowers, and rivers, and clouds, and rain¬
bows, and dews, ^— when 1 listen to the empty music
of periods which are rounded only to be harmonious,
and the tricks of speech which perform no office for
the sense ; then I say that all this miserable foppery —
as false to good taste, as it is to the souls of men and
the truth of God — could never have been committed
by a man who walked faithfully among his people,
caring for their actual wants, and anxious to feed
them with knowledge and understanding. What
lawyer, I ask, who makes his client's cause his own,
would dare to put it in jeopardy by such idle flour¬
ishes at the bar 7 And therefore, beyond all instruc¬
tion from books or masters in the truest eloquence,
— that is, the eloquence which reaches men's souls,
and, being adapted to their state, moves and changes
them,—I would send a young man into the experience
of actual life. I would say to him — ' Interest yourself
in these people ; be governed by the supreme desire
to bring them to God, in the love and acknowledg¬
ment of his truth ; and though you may not hear your¬
self extolled for beautiful flgures and accomplished ad¬
dress, you will have the satisfaction of subduing many
hearts to thoughtfulness and peace, who shall reward
you with their gratitude at the resurrection of the just.'
4. Again ; the pastoral office aids the preacher in
respect to the delivery of his discourses.
The best delivery is not that which conforms mi¬
nutely to certain rules ; nor that, which in vulgar esti¬
mation is accounted eloquent, — the loud, sonorous.
14
and showy. It is that, which best brings out the
meaning of the discourse, and leads the hearer so di¬
rectly to the sentiment, that the manner of its utterance
fails to attract remark. This, at any rate, is the de¬
sirable delivery for the pulpit. Why is it so rare?
and what are the greatest obstacles in the way of
attaining it ? First, undoubtedly, the ill habits created
in childhood by reading what we neither understand
nor care about ; and next, the continued habit of
reading mechanically, as we have been accustomed,
without throwing our natural feeling into our manner.
Every one knows how difficult it is to remedy the
constrained and unaffecting utterance, which has thus
come up with us from the dame's school. Lessons,
criticism, example, painful practice at self-correction,
may do something, — especially if we will always
read pieces in which we feel interested, and practise
in an excited state of mind. To read or recite in
dull, cold blood, may only help to dishearten us, by
showing how difficult it is to overcome our faults.
It is working witli blunted tools. An edge is given
them to work keenly and happily, only by excitement.
But however much may be done in this way, I know
nothing so likely to remedy the faults alluded to, and
give birth to a real manner, as the consciousness that
we are doing a real work, — in the midst of those who
are seeking our opinions and advice, and whom, as
acquaintances and dependants, we are desirous to
serve, and with a devout sense upon our minds
of religious responsibility. This is precisely the situ¬
ation of the Pastor. The reality of his office, like
that of the parental relation, thrusts aside all that is
factitious, and imparts the air and tone of nature,
15
truth, and feeling. Let him give way to the impulse
of his situation, and nature, truth, and feeling will
make him eloquent — that is, will make him effective.
The fetters of his unnatural school-boy habits will
relax and drop off". He is once more a man, inde¬
pendent and self-moved. The drowsy, dronelike
monotony of indifference, and the artifices of affecta¬
tion, and the graces which seek applause, — all fly
before the business-like sobriety of actual zeal.
He is no longer a sounding declaimer, eager only for
admiration ; no longer a heartless drudge at an irk¬
some task ; nor a timid aspirant for fame, shrinking
embarrassed from the eye and censure of critics
around him. He is simply a friend among friends,
and he speaks right on. He has a business to do,
and he forgets every thing but to do it. If any thing
will break down the disastrous habits of early and
scholastic life, and teach him or betray him to speak
like a man who is in earnest, and who therefore can
touch other men, — it is the consciousness of sustain¬
ing a relation like this.
5. There is still another department of public duty
on which the pastoral relation exerts a most valuable
influence ; namely, the public prayers of the sanctu¬
ary. These, no less than the preaching, — in order
to be right, edifying to the congregation, and there¬
fore acceptable to God, because going up from hearts
which assent to them as they are uttered, — must be
suited to the congregation ; not only in phraseology
and style, but in sentiment and topics ; suited to them,
not only in general, as they are men, possessed of a
common nature, common wants, infirmities, and sins,
but particularly, as they are such men, with their own
16
*
peculiar characters, situation, and exposure. It is
perfectly obvious, that a devotional exercise, adapted
to affect the minds and express the souls of one class
of men, may be wholly unfitted to excite or represent
another. A preacher may skilfully study the propri¬
eties of thought and diction, and diligently select and
arrange the addresses with which it becomes mortal
man to appear before his God. Or he may, following
the train in which his own mind runs when he pours
himself out in private worship, dwell on those sénti-
ments which are most affecting to himself in Misstate of
religious experience and progress. In each case, the
prayer, in itself, may be proper and excellent ; yet as
designed for the use of a given congregation, it may
be barren and vapid. Without careful adaptedness,
there can be nothing in it of that warm and fructifying
vitality, by which public prayer should communicate
life to the souls of the worshippers. And who can
understand this essential adaptation, like him who
lives among those whose mouth he is to be ; acquaint¬
ed with their temporal condition and spiritual wants,
and familiar with their modes of religious thought and
expression ; who knov/s therefore what sentiment will
find an echo in their hearts, what words will kindle a
devout ñame, and what there is already established
within them to which he must appeal, if he would
carry them on to higher spiritual attainments 1 He
would fear that he should not lead them to pray at all,
if he dealt only in the general language of piety, or in
those peculiar views which satisfy and delight himself.
He seeks to enter into their minds, borrow their as¬
sociations, speak from their sentiments, allude to their
trials, temptations, and sorrows, describe and specify
17
their condition, wants, and infirmities. He would thus
in a manner, take them by the hand and lead them to
the very mercy-seat, that they may pray themselves î
while a stranger, being unable thus to sympathise with
them, would be like the ancient priest, who presented
an offering of which the people could only be spec¬
tators.
6. The Preacher's success is favored by the rela¬
tion which he bears to his hearers as their Pastor.
$
The writers upon rhetoric insist much on the im¬
portance of conciliating the good will of an audience.
They lay down various rules for beginning in such a
manner as may disarm prejudice and win favor, —
knowing how little is to be hoped from the highest elo¬
quence, if received into unwilling or prejudiced ears.
But for the affectionate pastor this is already done.
He is in the midst of acquaintances and friends. Indi¬
viduals, doubtless, there may be, cold, incredulous,
inimical. But as an audience, he addresses those
whose confidence he possesses, and who have put
themselves in his power. Even in the case of those
who doubt or disbelieve the doctrine he delivers, or
whose sinful minds rebel against his entreaty and
warning ; his personal connexion with them affords
the most propitious of all circumstances for bringing
them to a willingness to listen and be improved. But
as regards the auditory in general, — from him, whom
they know, not only officially as a preacher of right¬
eousness, but privately as a man of integrity and char¬
ity ; from him, whose tested purity and sanctity render
him as venerable at their firesides as at the altar ;
from him, entreating them in Christ's stead, — they re¬
ceive counsel, exhortation, and reproof, as they would
from no one else. At his expostulations they are less
3
18
likely to cavil and demur. His statements and style
they are less prone to criticize and debate about. By
bis entreaties tbey are more easily pursuaded to self-
examination. His instruction is consequently more
salutary ; be is enabled to address tbem with a free¬
dom, confidence, and particularity, which nothing but
the intimacy of bis relation to tbem would warrant.
Hence we have often known a discourse received with
favor at home, which has given offence when preach¬
ed to a congregation abroad. Hence too we may
believe, that, as a general rule, religion will most
flourish where the pulpit is not too frequently given
up to strangers ; but where the steady administration
of truth from the same trusted lips, forbids gossiping
criticism, unprofitable comparisons, and the itching
ears which the Apostle long ago condemned as idle,
and mischievous.
Thus it is that the pastoral relation augments the
circumstances propitious to the preacher's success.
It is a great truth, that the same instruction and advice
are interesting and useful, or the opposite, — are re¬
ceived with welcome, or rejected with contempt—ac¬
cording as our minds are affected toward him who
speaks. This is the foundation of the ancient adage,
" Neminem oratorem esse, nisi virum bonum." And
hence the pulpit must always gain an increase of power,
from the circumstance of its being occupied by men
who are known and beloved of those who sit beneath.
Of course I do not speak without exceptions ; and
it will readily occur to you, what prodigious eflects
have sometimes been wrought by the preaching of
strangers in strange places. This has been owing in
part to the extraordinary powers possessed by those
persons, and in part to the influence that novelty
19
always exerts over minds of a certain character, which
sleep under whatever is familiar. But there can be
no doubt that, upon the whole, the best, the most
wholesome, the most permanent effects of religion are
derived from its uniform and settled operation. Its
most salutary agency is like that of the sun in perfect¬
ing the harvest, steady, equal, gentle, and perpetual.
It is upon this idea that the regular institutions of the
Christian Church are founded. And however sleep¬
ers may be sometimes most effectually awakened by
the warning cry of a stranger, the whole flock is best
watched and fed by regular and stated shepherds.
For which reason it was, that, when Paul and the
Apostles had gone through the world and waked its
slumberers into life and faith, they then " ordained
elders in every city," to watch for the souls which they
had converted.
II. We come now to speak of the favorable influ¬
ences exerted by the Pulpit on the minister's labors as
a Pastor.
1. The advantage which it gives him, is mainly
this ; that it clothes him with a sanction and au¬
thority, which he could derive from no other source.
Something of the ancient reverence, which belonged
to the prophetic character among the Jews, attaches
itself even now to the simple man who stands up
in the Christian church as the herald of the New
Testament. He is the proclaimer and expounder of
the Divine will. The majesty and awfulness of the
message passes to him who is commissioned to utter
it. Wherever he may be, his image is associated
with the pulpit, — that venerable place, consecrated
to the denunciation of sin, to the proclamation of
supernatural truth, and the invitations of Divine
20
grace — to which the mass of Christians look Up,
as did the Jews to the mercy-seat, whence the ora¬
cles came forth. There it was, that the people of
his charge first saw him. Their earliest associations
with him are as habited with the sanctity of that
place — as a man at prayer—as a man pleading for
souls — as separated from earthly objects, interests,
and feelings, and wrapt up in subjects of infinite
concern. This feeling always clings to him. It is
never wholly separated from his image in their minds.
They receive him, wherever they meet him, as bearing
his office with him. In their houses and at their tables,
he is still, like the prophet in the cottage of the
Shunammite woman, " the man of god."
What an advantage may he thus carry with him
into every office of Christian love ! In going about
like his Master to do good, what power ! He can
reprove as no other man can do, and where no other
would presume ; for there is a deference to his stand¬
ing and office, which feels that to resist him, naight
be to resist Him who sent him. If divisions and
strife arise, there is none who may so effectually step
in as a peacemaker to reconcile and heal ; for he is
perceived to be only doing what he has declared
from the pulpit to be a Christian duty, and thus prac¬
tising the precept which he has often enjoined upon
others. In affliction, too, and calamity, he can speak
comfort as none other can. The same sentiment,
the same words, — as the experienced pastor has
often been surprised to observe, —! are worth more
from his lips, and go more deeply into the sorrowing
heart. He is thought to be more familiar with the
true and celestial springs of consolation ; and the
mourner seems to hear a higher comforter speaking
by his voice, and saying, ' Peace, be still.'
21
Undoubtedly great prudence and discreet wisdom
are necessary to secure perfectly all the advantages
of which I speak, — especially in an artificial state
of society, like that in which we live ; and we may
find instances in which they have not been obtained.
But it must be because the minister has neglected and
forfeited them. It is impossible that they did not
once exist, and that he had not the opportunity to
secure them. Many ministers seem not to be aware
of the power which they thus possess. Many,
through delicacy, do not call it into action as they
might. Some fancy that the ministry ought to rely
solely on personal character for its influence, and that
no advantage whatever should be taken of the digni¬
ty which unavoidably appertains to the office ; while
many wield its influence with a fearful and tyrannical
sway, which proves at once how real it is, and how
immense would be its action for good, if employed
only for legitimate and salutary ends. For such
ends let it be sacredly used, as a most responsible
trust. You cannot, if you would, descend from the
holy eminence of the pulpit, and mingle with men
unmarked. If you could, you ought not. And the
distinction and power, which you gain from this cir¬
cumstance, may be and should be cherished among
the most valuable and beneficent talents in your pos¬
session.
You will not understand me as urging you to ex¬
pect or claim authority and influence on the ground
of your office alone ; or to take advantage of the
natural reverence of man for his priests, to assume
a clerical superiority independent of your personal
acquisitions and character. These must be conform¬
able to your high place, or they will only sink you
22
the lower in merited contempt. This is neither the
age, nor country, nor state of society, for ignorance
and ambition to lord it over God's heritage, by any
claim of office, or any pretence of a divine commis¬
sion. All, therefore, that I have now intended, is, to
state strongly — I do not know whether more strong¬
ly than the truth — the actual sentiments of men,
which offer you a singular facility of doing pastoral
good ; a facility, of which you are diligently to avail
yourselves. And this the rather, because the ten¬
dency of the times induces many ministers to fling
away all advantages to be derived from their func¬
tion, and because there is a tendency in the state of
society to destroy the distinction between clergy and
people. Now as far as I have stated it, this distinction
is salutary, and these advantages legitimate and de¬
sirable. Beyond that point, I would be the last to
plead for them,— certainly the last to rest on them
as if they could answer instead of personal worth,
intellectual fitness, and religious devotedness to duty.
Indeed my next remark is,
2. That the Pastoral Office gains strength from
the pulpit, because he, who is gifted to fill that place,
bears with him the credit of talents, learning, and
religious disinterestedness. He has been educated
for his trust by long retirement for study and disci¬
pline. His mind is stored with various information,
and in most circles within his parish he is regarded
as farther advanced than others in all the branches
of essential knowledge. Of course, then, he has all
the advantage which such attainments and reputation
always afford a man for influence with his fellow men.
With many persons, this, and not his office of relig¬
ious teacher, will be the actual ground of respect ;
23
and with all, any inconsistency between his character
and profession, any obvious worldliness of mind,
selfishness of purpose, improper ambition, and habits
of thought, feeling, and pursuit which indicate that
God and Christianity are only secondary objects of
interest, will destroy the infiuence of both his life
and teaching. While simplicity and disinterested¬
ness, conscientious and zealous devotedness to his
benevolent function, and a life evidently modelled on
his Master's, will secure to him a real, deep-seated
power, which office and learning alone never could
have given. Thus the ability to preach implies attain¬
ments and character, which secure deference and re¬
gard in the pastoral relation. But these will be at
once changed into neglect and contempt toward
him who claims them from the office he holds, and
not from his fitness and fidelity in discharging it.
3. The Pulpit gives aid to the Pastor, by making
impressions which offer occasions for personal in¬
tercourse, and thus create opportunities for address¬
ing men individually on their religious concerns.
The work of impression and improvement which
is begun by the pulpit, can never be. completed
by it. Let the word be preached with ever so
, much discrimination, fidelity, and particularity of
application, it is impossible that it should be
made at all times to suit the peculiar emergen¬
cies of all characters, and impart to each variety
of spiritual necessity the exact direction and coun¬
sel which it requires. It is by attention to his
fiock in private, that the pastor is sure of being able
to " give to each his portion in due season." And
the best opportunities to do this, are the result of his
public preaching. For however general it may
24
be, if it be faithful, it will reach some hearts, will
touch some consciences, will excite some minds to
thoughtfulness, penitence, and prayer. Where
this has been done, how is the way opened to easy,
natural, confidential communication on the deepest
interests of man and the most affecting truths of God !
How is his access to these topics facilitated, and how
acceptable are his instructions and counsels ! He
finds ears opened to him which. had hitherto been
closed, and an earnest welcome to suggestions which
formerly were received with at best a cool and re¬
pulsive assent. And it was the cry he had uttered
in the pulpit, which thus " prepared the way of the
Lord, and made his paths straight."
Hence, for this reason, he keeps an open and vigi¬
lant eye to discover the effects of his preaching.
He follows Orton's advice, to converse with his
ft
people, not about his sermons, but on the subjects of
them. He seeks to know the instances in which he
has awakened a sense of responsibility, or stirred up
a spirit of inquiry, or excited a thirst for knowledge.
He desires to ascertain in what cases he has been
misunderstood, and in what he has given offence ; in
what instances his expositions have failed to give
satisfaction, and in what they may possibly have ex¬
cited doubt. He may then be able to explain more
clearly the points that were left in darkness, and
pursue still further the subject of discussion. He
may put an end to the offence, before it have become
inveterate by time ; may correct the misunderstanding
before it have done its work of mischief or alienation ;
may answer the inquiry, before it is forgotten in the
bustle of the world, and direct and fix the nascent
interest in things divine. These are interesting offi-
25
ces of pastoral oversight, the occasions for which he
owes to his public preaching. How much of what
falls from him on the sabbath, might be lost, if it were
not thus followed to a ripe result ! How much of the
precious seed of the word may be wasted, where there
is no one to cultivate and guard its growth ! And
how valuable to the pastor, that public proclamation
of the gospel, to which he is indebted for these pro¬
pitious opportunities of communicating with men on
their eternal interests !
4. These views may be still further illustrated,
from the relation which he sustains to the young of his
flock. These have been truly styled " the hope of the
ministry " ; and toward them his most devoted and
shepherd-like interest must always be awake. Over
their early impressions and growing characters he is
to watch. Their parents he is to aid and prompt,
in the arduous task of training them to purity, faith,
and the love of God. In his parochial rounds, they are
to be peculiar objects of his inquiry and attention. In
the common schools, in the Sunday schools, and by
his own personal instructions, he will labor for their
knowledge and piety. And as he has been solicitous
*
that they should receive at first the baptismal sign, he
will be anxious to guide them onwijrd to a suitable
preparation for the other Christian ordinance, and
introduce them to a worthy commemoration of their
Lord. In all this charge of their religious progress,
how much does he gain by being the teacher in God's
house ! How favorable is this circumstance to the
success of his efforts ! Who may find an easy way
into their young hearts like him, whose image is inter¬
woven, in their thoughts, with all that is reverend and
4
26
affecting in the worship of God, the history of Jesus,
and the proclamation of things eternal 1 Who else
may so guide, influence, mould them, as he who de¬
scends from the most sacred of places and of duties,
mingling the affectionateness of an elder friend, with
the authority of venerable office 1
I have now said what I designed, to show the mu.
tual dependence and reciprocal influence of the Elo¬
quence of the Pulpit and the Pastoral Care. It is the
union of these which forms the complete and effec¬
tive minister. It is such ministers that we desire to
i
send forth to the churches ; " eloquent men and
mighty in the scriptures " ; who shall carry into the
pulpit the best gifts of utterance and persuasion, and
the most affectionate zeal for the salvation of men ;
and who shall move amongst their people with the
kindness of friends, and the cheerful gravity of men
of God. That you may become such, is to be the
object of your and my unceasing and solicitous
study.
You are called to be Preachers and Pastors.
It is for this that your w^hole discipline is to prepare
you. The learning and exactness of the study, the
musings and devotions of the closet, the watchful¬
ness and discipline of daily life, all are to combine in
fitting you for the solemn function of preaching God's
truth to a sinning and slumbering world, and of guid¬
ing and counselling men in the most interesting con¬
cerns of the human soul.
Let me exhort you, then, to look forward habitually
to the day when this charge of souls shall be actually
in your hands, and to consider by what preparation
you shall be able to acquit yourselves in it satisfac-
27
torily and acceptably. Contemplate the Pulpit, from
which you are to speak to God in behalf of the con¬
gregation ; and realize with what devotion and ele¬
vation of spirit you should be imbued, in order rightly
to carry up the general offering of praise and sup¬
plication ; — the Pulpit, from which you are to
address men on the loftiest themes, and awaken their
dull hearts to the spiritual things from which a sen¬
sual world is constantly enticing them ; and realize
with what holy earnestness of deep conviction, with
what suavity and vehemence of utteranccj with what
clear and energetic reasoning, with what intimate
knowledge of scriptural truth, of providence, and of
human nature, you must be filled and glowing, in or¬
der worthily to execute so vast, so various, so deli¬
cate, so responsible a trust. Bring this thought
before you. Keep it before you. Weigh it, feel it,
understand it. You will then cheerfully devote
yourselves to the severest toils, which shall be
requisite to accomplish a thorough preparation.
Look also to the Pastoral relation. Consider what
it is to be the religious counsellor of hundreds of
souls, in every most trying and momentous crisis of
their being. Consider what prudence you must study
what wisdom and discretion you must cultivate, what
readiness, what patience, what forbearance, what af¬
fection, what zeal. Above all, what need there is of a
spiritual habit of mind, a fondness for religious thought,
a heart always alive to sympathy with man, and ready
to rise in devotion to God. You will then comprehend
with what diligence you are now to cultivate your
affections, and live as men of faith and prayer, that you
may not then be strangers to the most spiritual part
28
i
of your labors, but may go to tbem as an accustomed
and welcome occupation.
Understand, therefore, the importance and dignity
of the work you are to undertake. There is no more
momentous trust committed to human hands. There
is no higher honor to which man may aspire on earth.
Office more responsible, no one can bear. Duties
more weighty and trying, no one can assume. It is
the office, trust, honors, and duties, which once were
borne by the Son of God. To esteem them lightly,
to prepare-for them sluggishly, is the extreme of fol¬
ly and of sin. It is to seek and deserve disappoint¬
ment, failure, and contempt. It is to dare the dis¬
pleasure of Heaven, and darken the prospects of the
soul. Be persuaded, then, to set your standard high.
Act from elevated and disinterested principles, with
a lofty aim, and a vigorous perseverance. In attain¬
ments and in character press on to the aliquid im-
MENSUM iNFiNiTUMQUE ; or, in words more solemn
and exciting still, " to the mark for the prize of your
high calling of God in Christ Jesus your Lord."
It is to help you in this arduous, and almost fearful
preparation, that I have come among you. I truly
feel that I could receive no more interesting or impor¬
tant charge. And what power God has given me,
what skill and knowledge experience may have
taught me, may be more than occupied in the re¬
sponsible task. I will do what I can. May God
grant his blessing ! I only ask of you to second my
exertions, and give me your prayers.
THE CLAIMS OF HARVARD COLLEGE UPON ITS SONS.
*
' \ ■'
A
SERMON
PREACHED IN
THE CHAPEL OF THAT INSTITUTION,
ON
LORD'S DAY AFTERNOON,
JULY 13, 1834.
BY JOHN G. PALFREY, A. M.,
PROFESSOR OF BIBLICAL LITERATURE.
CAMBRIDGE:
JAMES MUNROE AND CO.
1834.
CAMBRIDGE PRESS:
metcalf, torry, and ballov
SERMON.
2 kings, iv. 13.
SAY NOW UNTO HER ; BEHOLD, THOU HAST BEEN CAREFUL FOR US
WITH ALL THIS CARE; WHAT IS TO BE DONE FOR THEE?
Your thoughts, my friends, anticipate me, in
the use which I am about to make of this text.
The question proposed, in the application I have
in view, while it may be supposed to address
itself, at this moment, with a special interest to
the minds of those, who are taking part for the
last time in our Sabbath solemnities, yet demands,
on essentially the same grounds of obligation, to
be as seriously weighed by others of my hearers
as by them. To some of us, in other times, has
been already extended by this college that care,
which more recently these, our young friends,
have been experiencing ; and some, in one or
ânother stage of the course now completing by
their associates, are accumulating the debt to
which our present inquiry relates. This college
has been careful with great care for many more,
now scattered to all the borders of the country,
and to all the quarters of the world. What is to
be done by all and by each of us, in requital of
the benefit so conferred?
4
Am I met, however, on the threshold of the
inquiry, by the remark, that, when I speak of a
college, I am speaking only of an abstraction,
am only using a name ; that a college is a
thing incapable of an intelligent purpose to do
a service, and incapable of being the object of
gratitude for a service done ? If it be necessary
to advert to such a thought, it cannot be neces¬
sary to do more than say, that to speak of an
institution of this nature as conferring benefits and
entitled to gratitude, is to employ, if a not en¬
tirely accurate, a brief and convenient way of
expressing a very substantial and unquestionable
fact. That a good has been done, when the minds
of many, or of few, under suitable discipline, have
been endowed with great resources and satisfac¬
tions within themselves, and with a great power
to serve others, is an argument which I suppose
needs not to be labored here. If the good has
been done, by what means has it been done ? Of
course, by means of the apparatus here provided
and maintained ; by the communications of the
living teacher, by access to books, and to other
like instruments for the acquisition of knowledge,
and by the mutually quickening infiuence of associ¬
ation among those, whom the existence of such ad¬
vantages here has brought together to enjoy them.
How then came these advantages here, for they
are not the spontaneous products of the soil?
They have been collected by successive endow¬
ments of public and private bounty. The Com¬
monwealth, with a signal munificence, has done
5
her part, through all the period of her history,
giving from a treasury furnished by contributions
of all her citizens, the rich and the poor. Pri¬
vate benefactors have with a generous public
spirit done theirs, bringing hither, from generation
to generation, the tribute of their hard earnings,
and the tokens of their liberal and enlightened
views ; the opulent giving in the measure of their
abundance, and they who were rich only in the
wealth of a noble spirit, bestowing in the largest
proportion of their narrower ability. They make
all of us, who have studied here, the objects of
their gratuitous bounty, the recipients of their in¬
telligent charity. They suffer no one to defray the
charge of the education which he receives within
their walls. However affluent, my friends, any of
us or of our parents may be, we have none of us
been living here at our own or our parents' cost.
For a great part of the means of improvement,
which here we have been enjoying, we are suf¬
fered to render no pecuniary equivalent. What
view had they who have so served us, in putting
themselves to such an expense ? Certainly not a
view to the indulgence of any whim or convenience
of their own, or of ours ; but a view to the pro¬
motion of certain great objects, which when we
have considered, we shall be guided to repay the
debt of gratitude we owe to them, or, in other
words, as I first stated it, to the college through
which we have received their benefactions. The
debt of gratitude, I say ; for never was a more
incontestable claim of justice. Their college has
6
found no very apt pupil, as far as logic is con¬
cerned, in him who can entertain the idea, that
he may honorably go from beneath their roof, to
pursue merely his own selfish ends with the help
of the learning which they gave him, regardless
henceforward of them, and of the purposes for
which they bestowed it.
But, if we owe the patrons of our college such
a debt, to whom shall we repay it? since from
its nature and the circumstances of the case, it is
incapable of being discharged directly to them¬
selves, nor was such their own intention.
I. We should testify our gratitude, in the first
place, by causing their good offices to be effectual
for that elevation of our own characters, which
was one of the objects in their contemplation.
Doubtless it was part of their design, to be bene¬
factors, on a large scale, by promoting the individual
good of all, who, fi-om age to age, should pre¬
sent themselves to share in the advantages they
offered ; and, accordingly, by using those advan¬
tages to that end, it belongs to us to accomplish
their wishes, and render our acknowledgments.
They intended to give to every object of their
liberality the power of earning, by the honest labor
of his mind, a decent maintenance, without being
further burdensome to others ; and so far they
would have a right to complain of whoever should
go from beneath their care to live an idle life, even
if he should think to dignify his pusillanimous un¬
profitableness, by calling it by some such name
as the enjoyment of learned leisure. They de-
7
signed to give to their pensioners opportunity to
realize the satisfactions, appropriate to the holding
of those places in society, which are attended with
influence, and regarded with respect ; and it con¬
cerns our duty to them, that no negligence of ours
should frustrate this their purpose. But they in¬
tended, my hearers, to put us in possession of
enjoyments, far beyond what any array of pros¬
perous external circumstances is able to aflbrd.
The world of intellect and feeling within us, is
that where our happiness is most truly held to
reside ; and that world it was their purpose to
set in order and enrich. The high and unalloyed
satisfactions, which God has made to be found in
the pursuit and contemplation of the truth ; the
pleasures inseparable from the mind's action in a
sphere, where there is every thing to excite, and
nothing to irritate ; the delights belonging to the
developement and harmony of those capacities,
which ally the human with superior natures ; the
joys that inhabit the empyrean region of sober
thought ; to these, and to a strong and permanent
relish for these, it was their will to introduce us,
and if we do not greatly prize and earnestly seek
the boon, we shall have done them, as truly as our¬
selves, much less than justice. They did not desire
to give a knowledge, which should serve the bad
purposes of an unholy mind. They did not aim
to furnish, in any man's cultivated understanding,
an armoury of treason against his higher nature.
It was the mandate of a christian charity, which
bade these walls arise ; of a charity, which con-
8
templated the advancement of the interests of the
accountable and never-dying soul. Upon their
humble front, v^rhen first it lifted itself, making
the desert rejoice, it wrote their consecration ' to
Christ and to the Church.' It did not mean
thus to announce alone, that it proposed to
rear within them a ministry for Christ's and the
Church's service ; though this of course was one
prominent way towards the attainment of the more
comprehensive object ; but, that it would build up,
in every heart it might reach, an invisible temple
of the christian faith, that it would send forth in
every intellect it should nurture, an eflScient friend
and advocate of the Redeemer's cause. It meant
to make the intellectual element in man capable
of ministering effectually to the higher element of
goodness ; of doing its bidding, and quickening
its growth, and signalizing its dignity. Few, if
any, my friends, let us trust, will ever be found
those recreant brethren of ours, who will be so
lost to reason and to duty alike, as to use the
weapons, with which they have furnished them¬
selves from this mental arsenal, in a warfare
against all that is most excellent within them.
Such ' a foolish son ' might well be called ' the
heaviness of his mother,' and ' his mother,' as the
prophet says, be ' sore confounded by him.' Be
it ours, at all events, to render so far the most
acceptable honor to the benefactors of our minds,
by dedicating all conquests, we may have won in
the wide field of intellect, for so many sanctified
offerings to the supreme source of all intelligence ;
9
by making all knowledge and accomplishments,
we have been assisted to acquire, lend their aid
towards the culture of a manly, pervading, and
vigorous piety. The intellectual light is hut faint
and clouded, unless the spiritual lend its rays,
making it pierce and warm, while it shines ; nor
alone can it quicken any growth of the soul, to
repay much pains in the rearing. But let the
acquisitions of the understanding bring the tribute
of their energy and richness to the graces of the
heart, and we witness a venerable specimen of
that nature, which then without incredulity we
hear described as ' a little lower than the an¬
gels.'
II. But certainly it was not the ultimate object
of those, whose wishes, having been benefited by
their bounty, we are bound to consult, to convey
even the highest good to such as should be the
immediate objects of their care. They entertained
the comprehensive wishes of patriots, of philan¬
thropists, of christians. At their own cost, but
through our agency, they designed to benefit their
race, in our country, in all countries, in all inter¬
ests, in all times. Intelligent and well-intended
human action, they knew was the instrument for
doing this ; and for such action they designed to
give power and impulse, through their benefac¬
tions, to every mind which these should reach.
Accordingly, my friends, I present it as a dis¬
tinct and unquestionable obligation resting on the
sons of this college, to go thence to labor, after
the largest measure of their powers, for the pro-
o
• 10
motion of the common good. We withhold the
payment of a deht contracted to those, who have
here put us in possession of any capacities of
effective action we may exert, if we limit our¬
selves, in the use of these capacities, to the attain¬
ment of any personal end. In whatever liberal
pursuit we may choose, we cannot consent, until
we have become deaf to the plainest dictates of
justice, to do merely as much as will give us a
living, or wealth, or office, or fame, and there
cease our endeavours. Our public spirit, our spirit
of christian benevolence, is to be partly mani¬
fested in one or another form, according to the
peculiar facilities and occasions of that sphere of
service to God and our generation, which we may
have adopted for our own ; but in no sphere of
action can it honorably fail of being manifested.
The lawyer is not to argue his causes, and satisfy
his clients, and receive his gains, and then sup¬
pose that he is acquitted of his duty. No ; he
received part of his preparation to do this at the
charge of those, who demand from him, in return,
that he should make some contribution to those
great doctrines of social justice, on which, as on
a broad and firm foundation, the fabric of social
happiness stands ; or, at least, that, pervaded by
the spirit of the noble science he professes, he
should always be found standing in his lot, the
inflexible friend of public liberty and order, and
of private right. The physician has not discharged
the obligations, which here in the early stage of
his career were laid upon him, when he has pur-
11
sued his curious researches into all the realms
of nature, and into the mysterious dependencies
of the fearfully and wonderfully fashioned human
frame, nor when he has spread his renown, nor
when he has made his fortune. No ; he owes
such contributions as he may make to the re¬
sources of the excellent art he practices ; and he
has an office of benevolence to fulfil, wherever
he may bring relief to the infirmities of man's
exposed and suffering mortal nature. The states¬
man, educated here, leaves a large and righteous
claim unsatisfied, if he allows himself, I will not
say, to consult only his own aggrandisement, but
to limit his action to any narrow aims ; and the
*
man of fortune, if he devotes himself to the in¬
dulgence of his ease or his tastes. Such service
as either has acquired here capacity to render to
the general welfare, and to that truth which in all
departments is the great element of the general
welfare, such service each has come here under
an inevitable obligation to present. The teacher,
who has been here instructed, is not to teach, the
merchant is not to traffic, without higher views
than views of private interest mingling among
their motives. They stand indebted to those who
meant, that whoever should be indebted to them
should in his turn bring others under obligation for
wise and generous kindnesses. Each is thus held
to do the work, by which he supports or advances
himself, in a liberal spirit, using under the im¬
pulse of a high sense of duty the opportunities,
which his peculiar pursuits afford, for communi-
12
eating knowledge, and diffusing happiness, and
recommending good habits and good principles to
all with whom those pursuits connect him. And
the minister of religion, solemn and clear and
conclusive as his other obligations are, is to recog¬
nise yet an added motive to abound for others in
every good word and work, in the implied con¬
dition, under which he received so much of what¬
ever power he has of addressing others' reason
and feelings. But very far are the forms of effort,
in which the good and wise are to fulfil their
appointed office, from being circumscribed within
the limits of any professional action. The lawyer,
or physician, or teacher, does not sustain that one
character alone. He is much more, than what the
name of his occupation indicates. He is a man ;
having all the sympathies and relations of a man ;
having endless ways, in his extra-professional
walk, of access to human understandings, and
control over human character and welfare. All
*
methods of influence, thus opened to minds, which
possess any added power of influence by means
of their acquisitions here, are to be sacredly em¬
ployed for others' highest benefit. We are to be
*
true to our vocation in taking care, that whoever
is at the trouble to observe any one of us, shall
observe the course of a friend to good order ; a
patron, according to his means, of good objects ;
an associate and fellow-laborer, a counsellor or
disciple of good men ; an inquisitive and honest
seeker, a firm and fearless champion, of the truth.
If God has given us ability to do any thing to
13
extend the triumphs of truth, we shall regard this
as a privilege deserving all gratitude, and a work
demanding all devoted endeavour. And, with
humility, no doubt, but still with meek confidence
in him, who suffers no well-intended service to
remain wholly and for ever -unavailing, we shall
indulge the hope, that something we may have
worthily done, in act or thought, may be benefi¬
cially felt, though the doer should be all unknown,
even by distant men and by other times.
III. Once more ; if we acknowledge obligations
to the worthies on the honored roll of the patrons
of this college, the institution through which their
bounty has been conveyed to us, the institution
which was such a cherished object of their affection
and care, should be always an object of affection
and care to us.
I am not asserting, my friends, that, should cir¬
cumstances make such a course possible, we are
ever to show our gratitude to our college at the
expense of our integrity. I know of no gratitude,
which cancels that obligation ; and sure I am,
that such a service our college will never ask at
our hands, and will never receive from them, till
we are most unworthy sons. • I am not saying,
that the measures of her administration are never
to be canvassed by those, who have been objects
of her bounty. It may well be more or less their
right and duty, according to different relations
which they sustain to her, and to different oppor¬
tunities possessed by them of information and
infiuence, to have, and to urge an opinion, favor-
14
able or otherwise, upon such measures. But I am
affirming, that they are to he canvassed, when
they do come under our notice, I was about to
say, in the spirit of an affectionate solicitude, that
they may he found, on examination, to he worthy
of approval ; hut I will rather say, in the spirit
of an earnest solicitude, that they may either
prove to he of that character, or may eventually
he made so. But, leaving this, with the repetition
of the single remark, that I am speaking of no
gratitude, if such there could he, which should
involve any violation of integrity or justice, I urge
that the sons of this college, wherever they go,
and whatever they do, are not to suffer themselves
to forget, that here dwells the nursing mother of
their minds ; and it is 'a foolish son,' says the
wise man, who ' despiseth his mother.' If she
should ever seem to appeal to us, by a claim of
filial duty, for any thing adverse to severer obli¬
gations, we may he sure that it is not then her
voice that speaks, the blended voice of her wise
and worthy through seven generations. But, on
the other hand, in evil report and good report,
our mother's honor is alike our care ; our mother's
name is not to he lightly taken on injurious lips,
while we stand by and hear. Till we are caitiff
sons, we shall not imagine that there is no task
for us, when justice, as we deem it, is not done
her to the full. If we believe any charges which
may have been made against her, on the score of
religious partisanship, or the like, to he altogether
unauthorized by the fact, we can have no dis-
15
pensation from saying so ; and that, very freely,
unambiguously, and emphatically. :If we believe,
that an education nearly as good as is to be
obtained any where else in this country, or quite
as good, ör a great deal better, is to be here
obtained, in expressing our opinion to this effect,
according as it may be, we shall but be acquitting
ourselves of a manifest obligation of honorable
men, sustaining the relation which we bear. But
the credit of our college is not all, for which we
are to feel concern, nor shall we have accom¬
plished what in this aspect appears to be its due
from us, when we have vindicated its good name,
and published and urged its merits. All its in¬
terests are to be substantially served by the labors
of its friends, and among those friends we are to
have our actions take care that our names be
recorded. If God blesses us with wealth, I know
not, among the public distributions which we may
have grace to devise, what more grateful object
we can propose to ourselves, than to turn back
to pour a filial tribute into our mother's lap, to
be dispensed to her younger hopes in ampler
bounty, than she could command the means to
afford to us. And here, I will even ask, in
passing, since the subject leads to the inquiry,
whether, while separately many of her children
have ' done virtuously ' in this way, it is not time
that some more extended and united action of
them together should ' excel them all.' An emi¬
nent jurist * of the last century called his liberal
* Chief Justice Dudley.
»
I
16
testamentary endowment, ' a poor thank-oíFering
to God from his unworthy servant for his many
and great mercies to him in his education at that
college and the words, ' once* a pupil, always
a patron,' making part of the inscription, in which
her gratitude recorded the merits of apother dis¬
tinguished magistrate, on thè edifice^'hy the gift
of which he had expressed his filial regard, have
a truth and an interest for the many bosoms, in
which the same sentiment is doubtless devoutly
cherished, t If we have no wealth to offer her,
possibly there are those who have, who desire to
have their liberal designs enlightened and guided
by our, so far, better discretion, and to whom our
upright and fitly spoken word may usefully com¬
mend her claims. We do something to possess
I
* The inscription on the front of old Stoughton Hall was as follows ; ,
Deo Opt. Max. Boxisq. Literis S,
GuiiiELMtrs Stoughton Armiger ProvincijE
Massachuset. Nov-AngIíOrum Vice-Gubernator
coleegii Harvardini Glim Alumnus
Semper Patronus Fecit
Anno Domini 1699.
Peirce's History, p. 71.
I
t * The Court agreed to give 400 dE towards a schoale or Colledge,
whearoff 200 JE to bee paid the next yeare, and 200 JE when the worke
is finished, and the next Court to appoint wheare and wt t^uilding.'
Such is part of the record of the General Court of Massachusetts Bay,
convened Sept. 25th, (Oct. 6th, N. S.) 1636, and continued thence from
day to, day by adjournment. In little more than two years, then, the
second century from the foundation of the College will be completed.
Is it fit, or not, that her nineteen hundred living sons should be thinking
of doing Honor to that event by some joint expression of their gratitude ?
Their aggregate means are ample. The wants of the college, in- two
respects, those of accommodation for its invaluable library, and provision
for indigent students, ai'e great. To keep the anniversary by a liberal
united effort to advance the object, to which it owes its interest, would
make a sensible and memorable novelty among forms of commemoration.
17
her patrons of the reward they coveted, when
4
we increase the number of sharers in the good
which they devised ; and, understanding their
spirit to be that of the sage who said, that, when
he did a kind action to one man, he always meant
it should be paid to another, for he ' loved to have
benefits go round,' we shall, as opportunity favors,
enable young persons, who desire, and would do
justice to, the advantages here, which we have
enjoyed, to obtain them, by pecuniary assistance,
if they need, and we can render it, or by infor¬
mation, counsel, facilities in their studies, or other
requisite aid. It may be, that the interests of our
college may require to be served in the public
councils. If we have a place there, it is true that
we shall be acting under obligations, higher than
can be deduced from any relations our youth has
borne, or favors it has experienced. But, in that
sphere, we may well rejoice, that we can use the
voice she formed to tell with freedom and affection
all her desert, and to plead her cause, with a full
heart and to good purpose, as often as we see
that her interests and the public interests are the
same. Like the Psalmist's wishes for the home of
his kindred, our friendly wishes will be breathed
for her, in entreaties for a blessing to him who
alone can bless. We shall pray for her peace ;
that they may prosper that love her ; that peace
may be within her walls, prosperity within her
palaces. For our brethren and companions' sakes
we shall ask, that peace may be .within her.
Happy they, once more, who, rendering^her the
18
best honor by signal services to the cause of
truth, and righteousness, and God, and man, shall
authorize her to say, with the proudest exulta¬
tion of the maternal heart, ' behold my jewels.'
Yes, my brethren ; and happy every one of us,
who, in an humbler sphere, by the consistent
tenor of worthy lives, shall do credit to the rear¬
ing which she gave us.
If there is any truth in what has been said, I
would submit, in a word, that it is not applicable
alone to such, as have obtained from this college
that general education of the mind, which is to
serve for a basis for the further studies of prepara¬
tion for professional pursuits ; but also to those,
her children by later adoption, who having chosen
their walks in life, have then sought her aid, while
they advanced towards them.* They, too, have
been domesticated in her family. They have been
profited by, and become debtors to, her bounty.
Her honor is their honor. Her prosperity must
be their care ; nor of them is it any more to be
supposed, that having received from her what she
had to bestow, they should ever go from her door
that welcomed them, on their sordid way, and not
cast back, while they tread it, a glance of thank¬
fulness and good-will.
For those who are not to meet us again in these
Sabbath services, the feeling which arises in the
mind cannot fail to be a feeling of affectionate in-
* The number of professional students in the different faculties, in the
academical year 1833-4, approached within one fifth to that of under¬
graduates.
19
terest^ We hope that success and honors await
them in the world ; and we hope that the world,
into whose mass they are proceeding, is to find
> «
them ambitious of that truest honor and success,
which are only to be found in usefulness. But we
know that honor and success are not all which
they are to look for. They are men ; and the
common lot of men is to be theirs. We hope that
when, hereafter, the bitter experiences of that
changing lot shall come to any, they may find the
christian spirit ' of power and of a sound mind,'
' of wisdom and of the fear of the Lord,' present
to sustain them in their hour of trial, and ' the
peace of God, which passeth all understanding,'
shining like warm sunlight on their hearts, when
the cloud has passed away. May God Almighty,
' the God before whom their fathers walked,' ' the
God which hath fed them all their lives long unto
this day,' go with them on their untried way,
keep, and direct, and bless them, and redeem
them from all the evil that is in the world. A
guiding pillar of fire to them in the glooms of life,
may he be too a shading pillar of a cloud to allay
the consuming blaze of their untempered pros¬
perity. May he incline them to trace happiness
to its untroubled fountain. May he teach them to
sanctify and truly to enjoy his gifts, by devoting
them to the one great aim of his glory and his
childrén's good. May they prove signal blessings
to the friends who have so longed, and perhaps
so struggled, to see them coming forward to the
honorable tasks of life. Young, may they pro-
20
foundly feel the high responsibilities of educated
youth. Aged, may they reap the rich reward of
well-spent years in the general esteem, and their
own approving consciousness. May they be aided
to contribute bright names to the catalogue of
their country's worthies. May every name stand
in golden characters on the Lamb's book of life.
Long, and useful, and prosperous, if so it please
God, be their earthly service ; honored, the place
of their last rest ; that memory of the just which
is blessed, the memory which they leave behind ;
and the company of the just made perfect, the
society where their ripe spirits shall find at last
congenial and satisfying good.
%
/
REVIEW
«
OF THE
ARGUMENT
IN SUPPORT OF
NATURAL RELIGION.
»
A
DUDLEIAN LECTURE,
DELIVERED
IN THE CHAPEL OF THE UNIVERSITY IN CAMBRIDGE,
»
MAY 13, 1835.
BY JOHN BRAZER.
CAMBRIDGE:
C. FOLSOM,'PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY
1 835.
I
REVIEW
or THE
ARGUMENT
IN SUPPORT OF
NATURAL RELIGION.
The subject of this Lecture, as stated in the words of its
Founder, is as follows:—"The proving, explaining, and
proper use and improvement of the principles of Natural
Religion, as it is commonly called and understood by divines
and learned men."
It is sufficiently obvious, that it is wholly beyond the limits
and appropriate uses of this occasion to attempt any thing
approaching to a literal fulfilment of these requisitions. They
involve inquiries and discussions of vast extent, of great intri¬
cacy, and of unspeakable importance. I have been, therefore,
greatly embarrassed in ascertaining in what way the claims of
the duty before me may be best met. I would not willingly
occupy the hour in giving, what, from the nature of the case,
must be a meagre abstract of the labors of others, and what
may be far more profitably sought in the original works ; and
it must be a hopeless effort to suggest a course of remarkj
which has any just claims to originality, on a theme so familiar
and worn as this. The science, moreover, is remarkable for
the simplicity of its principles, while its topics of illustration
are as vast and various as the works of God. But to state
these principles merely in their naked, logical form, would
*
«
4 The Argument for Natural Religion
be little interesting to that part of the audience for whose
beneñt this lecture was primarily intended ; and to fill up the
time with mere illustrations of these principles, however inter¬
esting they might be, would hardly comport with the dignity
of the occasion and place. And there is another circumstance,
of which it is proper to forewarn you. The elements of the
science lie among the most familiar truths, which we receive
and act upon, in every conscious moment of our lives. But,
as they have been denied or questioned by the impugners of
the science, it is necessary for its advocate to place himself
in the undesirable position of appearing to state, with some
elaborateness and emphasis, certain facts, which, it should seem,
no man of sane mind could for a moment question.
Feeling, then, the full pressure of these difficulties, and with
no very sanguine hope of avoiding them, I address myself to
the duty before me. It will be my general object to present
to you such a view of the subject, as will serve to show the
place it occupies, or rather which it ought to occupy at the
present day, among the serious inquiries of serious minds.
And in furtherance of this end, I shall first attempt to speak of.
the Tcind of reasoning, by which the great truths of Natural
Theology are ascertained; and then apply this kind of reason¬
ing to the establishment of some of the leading truths or prin¬
ciples of the science.
I, And, first, I make a distinct topic of the Tcind of rea¬
soning, by which the great truths of Natural Religion are
ascertained ; because it is precisely here, that the science has
suffered, and suffered, too, perhaps equally at the hands of its
enemies and of its friends. A kind of reasoning has been
resorted to, which will be found on strict examination, I appre¬
hend, either to be unsound in itself, or else to be inapplicable
to the subject, and, on both accounts, to be utterly unsatis¬
factory. I refer to the abstract arguments in proof of the
truths of Natural Theology, or to reasonings called à 'priori,
or, in other words, those which proceed on certain metaphysical
propositions, which are assumed as axioms.
I regret that only some brief hints can now be offered on this
part of the subject, since the argument requires that it should
be. carefully elaborated. If I do not err, however, these hints
will be found to be results, that will commend themselves to
the mind after the strictest examination.
The Argument for Natural Religion.
5
1. And my first remark is, that these abstract arguments are
objectionable, in reference to the subject before us, because they
virtually assume the 'point to he proved. Thus, for instance, one
of the axioms, which has been taken for granted in proving that
the universe must have had an author is, tliat " every Effect
must have a Cause." This is undoubtedly true ; — but it vrill
avail little with those who deny that the universe is an effect, as
did, among others, the somewhat notorious author of the " Aca¬
demical Questions." Again ; it is assumed as an axiom, that
whatever " begins to exist must have had a Cause of its exist¬
ence." This, of course, will be admitted by most persons ; but
it will have no pertinency with those who assert that the uni¬
verse is eternal, and the Creative Power, whatever it be,
only plastic, as did the Epicurean philosophers of antiquity,
and their followers, under different names, in modern times.
Again ; it is maintained with perfect justness, that every Con¬
trivance must have had a Contriver ; but this is wholly irrele¬
vant in an argument with him who denies that there is any
proof of Contrivance, or Design, any further than the particular
instance of it in question is concerned, as did Mr. Hume. And
again, it is a generally admitted axiom, that " nothing can be
a cause of its own existence ; " but it will conclude little against
him who asserts that the world is an exception to thia general
rule, — it being self-existent, as Spinoza maintained. The
celebrated argument of Locke, which you will find in his
" Essay," will be found, I am afraid, to be liable to the same
remark. I may not stop to quote it at length. Suffice it to
say, that it seems to lie open to the objection of taking for
granted certain principles of causation, of which we know
nothing. It is difficult, indeed, for one to perceive, how that
which thinks should proceed from that which does not think,
as he asserts. But it is not more difficult, perhaps, than it is
to perceive how that which does not think should procqed from
that which does. And the far-famed argument of Dr. Clarke
against an infinite series of causes, for which he claimed
the cogency of mathematical proof, seems to revolve in a like
vicious circle. Closely examined it appears to amount to this.
—There can be no existence without a cause ; therefore there
must have been an existence without a cause ; since the first
cause, into which he resolves the alleged infinite series of
causes, must be self-existent, that is, without a cause. By
6 The Argument for Natural Religion.
argument, then, derived from abstract causation^ the atheist
can never be confuted ; for his answer is always ready at hand,
that, if the Deity can exist uncaused, the universe may.
Besides all this, of Causation, considered .as an efficient agent,
we know nothing, as I have already observed. Our whole
Tcnowledge, in this respect, is limited to the succession oi
phenomena.
Such is the inherent defect of all argumentation à priori, as
it is called, for the great primal truth of Natural Theology,
the existence of a God. It involves, so far as it proceeds on
purely abstract or metaphysical principles, what the logicians
call, a circular sophism. It will be found, on close analysis,
to proceed on some assumption of the truth contended for.
2. In the next place, this abstract or metaphysical argu¬
ment, or reasoning à priori, is totally inapplicable to the
subject in question. By its very nature it is confined solely
to the necessary and immutable relations which subsist among
our notions or ideas. It is wholly independent of all facts,
and cannot be applied to the authentication of any fact. It
is founded on an assumed axiom, or on an hypothesis, or defini¬
tion, and has no reference whatsoever to questions of real
existence. All that can be demonstrated of any mathematical
figure or quantity, or of any abstract relation, would be equally
true, though this figure or quantity or abstract relation, what¬
ever it may be, never bad, nor ever shall have, a prototype in
the world. It is obvious, then, that reasoning of this kind on
any question which involves a fact, or a subject of real existence,
is out of place. But the question whether or not Deity exists,
is a question of fact. It is not a necessary or intuitive truth.
It cannot be demonstrated, using the term here in its strict
meaning, that God must be; and it cannot be demonstrated,
that the contrary supposition involves an absurdity; which are
the marks of necessary or metaphysical truth.* It is equally
* See this topic admirably treated by Dr. Crombie, (Natural Theolo¬
gy, or Essay, &c. 2 vols. 8vo. London. 1829,) to whom, together with
some of the leading English Reviews of the work, I cheerfully acknowl¬
edge my obligations in this part of the Lecture. See also the remarks of
Dr. Thomas Brown, (Lecture XCII.,^ where the same or similar views are
presented, and the reasoning here adverted to is considered as "relics
of the verbal logic of the Schools." And Dugald Stewart, after saying
The Argument for Natural Religion
7
impossible to prove or disprove the existence of Deity by this
species of evidence. It is a fact, as I hope to show, which is
sustained by the highest possible moral evidence, — evidence
which no sound and unbiased mind can resist; but it is not
to be determined by metaphysical proof; and for the simple
reason, that it is a question, which, from its very nature,
does not admit of this species of evidence. This metaphysi¬
cal or abstract mode of reasoning, then, has no more con¬
nexion with the truths of Natural Theology, (which, be it
repeated, are facts, or questions of actual existence,) than the
mystical numbers of Pythagoras have with the science of
arithmetic; or than the laws of judicial astrology have with
the true theory of the solar system ; or than the syllogistic
modes of reasoning have with the interpretation of the laws of
the material universe ; or than the rules for constructing
logarithmic tables have with a theory of taste.
3. I observe, in the third place, that this mode of reasoning
à priori^ applied to the science of Natural Theology, is un¬
satisfactory. It is not, indeed, strange that this should be the
case, if, as I have attempted to show, it covertly takes for
granted the thing to be proved ; and amounts, when examined,
to little more than a mere verbal logic ; and is, moreover,
wholly inapplicable^ and out of place, in this inquiry. It may
well be doubted if any man's faith in the truths in question
was ever established by this species of reasoning. The re¬
that "the argument h priori has been enforced with singular ingenuity
by Dr. Clarke," ventures, in his cautious manner, to add ; — " Without
calling in question the solidity of Clarke's demonstration, we may
be allowed to say that the argument à posteriori is more level to the
comprehension of ordinary men, and satisfactory to the philosopher
himself." (Outlines of Moral Philosophy, 8vo. p. 174. Edin. 1818.)
Bishop Berkeley, too, virtually takes the same ground, by leaving the
objection against this application of metaphysical arguments, as urged
by the Skeptic Alciphron, unanswered ; and by giving him, moreover,
in the person of Euphranor, that proof of " fact," which he demanded-
All this part of the Dialogue is a beautiful specimen of the Socratic
mode of argumentation. The objector is led, by a series of necessary
admissions, to acknowledge that we have the same or greater proof of
the being of a God, than we have of the existence of the person with
whom we are conversing face to face. (Minute Philosopher, Dial, IV.)
And, indeed, all reasonings of this kind, applied to the great facts oi
Natural Theology, have been, not unaptly, compared to the application
of a lamp to a sun-dial, in the night time, to ascertain the hour.
«
8 The Argument for Natural Religion,
mark which has been applied to the system of Berkeley, in
which, as you know, he questions the actual existence of the
material universe, seems peculiarly appropriate to this kind
of reasoning, even in its most effective form, namely, that,
admitting the premises, it is equally impossible to prove it to
be false, or believe it to be true. Dr. Clarke, before alluded
to, the most distinguished of its advocates, confessed to a
friend,* that any worthless weed in his garden contained better
arguments for the being and attributes of God, than all his
metaphysics; and that he resorted to it merely that he might
meet the atheistic philosophers on their own ground. But
with defeience it may be suggested, whether it would not
have been preferable to show these skeptics, that, in this
their favorite mode of impugning the truths of Natural The¬
ology, they had no ground whatever to stand upon. Dr.
Reid, after quoting this distinguished author's argument re¬
specting space and time, which was probably suggested to
him by a passage in the Principia of Newton, observes; —
"These are the speculations of men of superior genius ; but
whether they be as solid as they are sublime, or whether they
be the wanderings of imagination in a region beyond the limits
of human understanding, I am unable to determine." I sup¬
pose that most accurate thinkers will be of the same opinion
as Dr. Reid on this subject.
4. My last objection to reasonings à priori on the subject
before us is, that they not only seem, for the reasons stated, to
be useless, but, it is apprehended, that they are worse than
useless. They not only do nothing to enforce conviction,
but serve, on the whole, and in the ultimate result, to per¬
plex, bewilder, confuse, and to prevent the inquirer from
appreciating the full force of those arguments by which the
science is sustained. The inference will naturally be, that
a subject, which requires such difficult and shadowy processes
of proof for its support, must be, in itself, so exceedingly ab¬
stract and recondite, as to baffle ordinary powers of compre¬
hension. And if, as has, I think, been shown, this course of
reasoning is attended with the further disadvantage, that con¬
clusions, true in themselves, are founded on false premises, it is
hardly to be avoided, that, when this fallacy is detected, the
* Mr. Whiston, See Whiston's Memoirs.
The Argument for Natural Religion, 9
error of the process should be visited upon the conclusion.
Thus it may happen that principles, entirely true and inex¬
pressibly important, may suffer from the misdirected ingenuity
of their advocates. The great truths of Natural Theology,
though not intuitively certain, are yet only removed, by a
single step, from what is so ; and this, moreover, is a step so
short, and easily taken, that a plain man, who deals honestly
with himself, and " carries f as Locke says, " himself about
himf can no more doubt of these truths than of his own ex¬
istence. But if he attempt to make this process clearer, or
his convictions stronger, by a series of abstract or metaphysical
argumentation, or insist upon having a reason when a reason
has been given, he will only involve himself in a jargon of
merely wordy logic. And thus, in endless mazes lost," he
will be in great danger of loosing his hold on the only true
foundations of his belief, and taking, in the often quoted lines
of the Dunciad,
"the high priori road,
Will reason downward till he doubts of God."
I here dismiss this part of the subject. Dry and uninviting,
as, I am aware, it is, it is nevertheless indispensable that it
should be rightly understood. The very first object of the
student in Natural Theology, as in every other subject of
liberal inquiry, should be, to fix clearly in his mind the pre¬
cise nature of that evidence and that mode of reasoning, of
which the subject matter admits. And nothing, in respect to
Natural Theology, so distinctly and favorably marks the pro¬
gress of modern inquiry, as the labors of its advocates on this
point. To these, at the imminent risk of appearing obscure
and uninteresting, I have thus summarily adverted. Our path,
it may now be hoped, leads onward to more smiling fields of
research.
Leaving, then, for the reasons assigned, the metaphysical or
à priori argument entirely out of view, I now proceed to point
out the nature of that reasoning, by which the leading truths
of Natural Theology are to be sustained.
And this, as I apprehend, is the Inductive mode of reason¬
ing. The truths to he ascertained are, as I have said, facts,
not abstract relations, not conclusions deduced from axioms,
or definitions, or arbitrarily assumed premises of any kind;
but facts, substantive facts, which, of course, are to be
established by the same process of reasoning, by which the
2
10 The Argument for Natural Religion.
facts of natural philosophy or any other facts are established.
That a being, whom we call God, or Deity, exists, is a propo¬
sition to be proved, in the same way as the proposition that a
certain law of relative forces reigns among the orbs of the
planetary system ; — namely, by that great organ or instrument
of inquiry, called the inductive process of reasoning ; whose
principles were first fully developed by Lord Bacon, and
which, carried into effect by Newton and succeeding inquirers,
has established all we know of those generalized facts, which
are denominated the laws of nature.
But before applying this mode of reasoning to the Subject
before us, it is necessary to advert, for a moment, to its essen¬
tial principles ; since these, it should seem, have been neither
clearly understood, nor accurately applied, by writers emin¬
ently philosophical in other respects. The inductive process
of reasoning, as I understand it, consists of two parts or di¬
visions, entirely distinct from each other, though often con¬
founded together, both of which are necessary to the result.
The one is the investigation of similar or analogous phenom¬
ena ; and the other is an inference from them of a general fact
or principle, which, being thus ascertained, may be applied in
all analogous cases. It rests ultimately on the perception of
similitude. It is capable, under all circumstances, like every
other sound process of reasoning, of being expressed in a
syllogistic form, though this is not at all necessary to its effec¬
tive use. Thus, to quote a familiar example, from the obser¬
vation of certain analogous facts in respect to falling bodies,
near the earth^s surface, Newton ascertained the law or general
fact, according to which the movements of the solar system
are governed. It is thus we proceed from what is known to
what is unknown ; and, where the investigation of facts is
sufficiently ample and sufficiently accurate, the deduction or
inference from them is irresistible.
This, then, is the process of inquiry called induction. And
now it is to be particularly observed that this mode of reason¬
ing is as applicable to moral subjects, to facts relating to the
moral and intellectual nature of man, and to the manner and
issues of human conduct, as to material things.* Thus, for
* This position is sufficiently obvious. But it is gratifying to find it,
while this Lecture is passing to the press, distinctly taken by Lord
The Argument for Natural Religion,
11
example, it is a fact, — that in all the aspects and circumstan¬
ces of human agency, wherever we see examples of order,
beauty, harmony, and concurrence of means to ends, we infer
that intelligence is the producing cause. This, I say, is a fact,
— not a supposition, not a theory, — but an outright, obvious
fact, — a fact exemplified in all our experience, and true in all
circumstances. Here, then, the process of Induction, so far as
it depends upon the investigation of similar or analogous phe¬
nomena, is as ample and perfect as possible. Now, if it can
be shown, that in the works of nature, or in the material uni¬
verse around us, order, beauty, harmony, and concurrence of
means to ends prevail, which are precisely similar to those,
which, in human concerns, are uniformly connected with mind
or intelligence, as their producing cause ; — then the inference
is irresistible that these, in like manner, must be referred to
mind or intelligence as their producing cause.*
II. And here a range of illustration opens upon us, that may
strictly be called infinite. If I deemed it necessary to the ar¬
gument to enter upon it, I should not know where to begin ;
and if I had the powers of the highest archangel who " bends
and burns " before the throne of the Eternal, I should not
know where to stop. But this illustration cannot be necessary,
and, in an especial manner, it cannot be necessary to those
whom I address. It is to be found in every thing that we
behold, and it opens more and more upon the mind in pre-
Brougham, in his recent " Discourse " on Natural Theology, originally
intended, in connexion with illustrations by Sir Charles Bell, to be
inserted in a new and cheap edition of Paley's work on this subject.
" It ioHews," says he, "that the constitution and functions of the mind
are as much the subjects of inductive reasoning and investigation as
the structure and actions of matter." —p. 40, Am. Edit. 12mo, Again,
" This science (Natural Theology) is strictly a branch of Inductive
philosophy, formed and supported by the same kind of reasoning upon
which the Physical and Psychological sciences are founded." — p. 17.
And speaking of the à priori argument, the same author observes, that
not only are the truths in question not necessary truths, but that the
à priori argument itself, as applied to these truths, when analyzed, will
be found to be nothing more than an imperfect process of induction, that
is, an induction from a too limited number of facts. — Section IV.
* " When the philosophy of causes, and the metaphysical reasoning
of the schools, shall be completely banished from Theology, as they
have already been from physical inquiry, the doctrine of Theism will be
consistently denied by those only who reject the ' Principia' of New¬
ton." — Quarterly Eeview, above referred to.
12 The Argument for Natural Religion,
eise proportion as its capacity of accurate observation is in¬
creased, It is, happily, characteristic of the modern literature
on this subject, that it dwells principally on these alleged
tokens of intelligence in the universe ;* and the discoveries of
modern science have made these researches peculiarly rich and
attractive. To these 1 refer you, with the single remark, that,
if you can find undoubted examples of order, beauty, harmony,
and concurrence of means to ends in the material universe,
then it follows, that the atheist is reduced to the desperate
alternative, either of denying that those appearances of order,
beauty, harmony, and concurrence of means to ends, which
are found in the works of men's hands are proofs of an in¬
telligence adequate to the effect ; or of admitting that simi¬
lar appearances, which are found in the great scheme of the
material universe, are proofs of an intelligence adequate to the
effect. And if, further, order, beauty, harmony, and the con¬
currence of means to ends, in the material world, be thus a
proof of intelligence, so is the character^ that prevails through¬
out these phenomena, a proof of the character of their author;
for so we necessarily conclude in regard to the same results in
human affairs. If they exhibit power, their author is power¬
ful. If they exhibit wisdom, their author is wise. If they
exhibit goodness, their author is good. And if they exhibit
all these in an infinite, that is, in an indefinite degree, their
author is infinite in power, in wisdom, and in goodness,—
that is,^ He is God.
It will be observedthat in presenting to you this argument,
I have made no use of the common terms plan and planner^
contrivance and contriver^ design and designer. And I have
advisedly and studiously done this, that I might avoid that
precise objection which the atheists of modern times, and par¬
ticularly Mr. Hume, have strenuously urged. Unlike the an¬
cient skeptics, we admit, say they, that contrivance implies a
* There is a wide difference between the courses pursued by the
ancient and modern skeptics on this subject. The former granted that
design might be inferred from its effects, but denied that there were
any appearances of design in the universe. The latter admit that de¬
sign may be thus inferred from effects, but deny that there is any
ground for making this inference of design so as to involve the exist¬
ence of an Infinite Designer. This change has, obviously, been ren¬
dered necessary by the progress of modern investigations in Natural
Science.
The Argument for Natural Religion.
13
contriver, design a designer; but we deny that there is con¬
trivance, that there is design, at least to the degree claimed.
They thus resolve the argument of such beautiful books as the
" Natural Theology " of Paley, and the " Bridgewater Trea¬
tises " of Whewell and Sir Charles Bell, and all others of a simi¬
lar character, into a circular sophism, or a taking for granted the
thing to be proved. Now, how is this objection of theirs to be
met ? It will signify nothing to assert what is thus denied, how¬
ever indisputable it may seem to us. Of Efficient Causes, or a
necessary connexion-between successive events, or of Causation,
considereiLas an agen^ we know nothing, as these objectors,
and many other more accurate thinkers than they, truly assert-
But it does not follow from this, that we have no sufficient evi¬
dence that order, beauty, harmony, and the concurrence of
means to ends, must proceed from intelligence and design. On
the contrary, we have the most decisive evidence possible of this
fact, namely, in all our own direct and immediate experience
and observation in human affairs. And here it is we obtain the
idea and establish the principle of design and contrivance, and
that, too, by the amplest and most exact investigation and com¬
parison of phenomena possible. And having thus obtained it, we
apply it, as I have shown, by an unquestionable and certain
process of inductive reasoning, to the phenomena of creation.
And if it be still asked, why it is that we ascribe this order,
beauty, harmony, and concurrence of means to ends, to intelli¬
gence, to design ; I answer, — that it is an ultimate fact in our
natures. We are so constituted that we cannot help doing so y
without disavowing and denying all our rational powers, and
therefore, and thereby, putting ourselves out of the question on
this subject. And if any one chooses thus to stultify himself
that he may become a champion of atheism, this must, if he in¬
sist upon it, be granted to him ; but he is then, obviously, no
longer entitled to be heard, as a rational being, by rational
men, on a question like this.
The existence of Deity, again, and the leading truths of
Natural Theology, may be, and have repeatedly been, shown
by the inductive mode of reasoning, applied in a different man¬
ner. It is to a single, though somewhat extended, illustration
I shall now confine myself, and shall reduce it to as narrow
limits as possible. I address myself to it in this way.
Constant and multiplied experience assures us, that in all
sentient creatures, beneath the rank of man, every organ has
14
The Argument for Natural Religion,
its appropriate function ; every function its appropriate object ;
every instinct its appropriate use, and sphere of exercise. I
need not dwell on so plain a fact as this. It is well known as
one of the great triumphs of modern science, in the department
of comparative anatomy, that, from almost any single bone, a
skilled naturalist will determine, without the possibility of
mistake, whether the animal, of which it originally made a
part, belonged to the earth, or air, or water ; whether it fed
on fruits, or flesh, or both ; and what were its particular con¬
figuration, habits, and modes of life. Indeed, it is well known
that in this manner, the figure of very numerous animals, that
were extinct ages before 'the present crust of our planet was
formed, have been reconstructed ; and that thus we are fur¬
nished with an authentic history of the forms which animal life
has taken, from its first elementary movements in the lowest
Radiated species, (the Coralline animals, for example, —
which are found deep down among the foundations of the
present earth,) upwards through its continually more and
more elaborated forms, to its hitherto most perfect mani¬
festations in the human race. But how is this efiected?
By what mode of investigation is it, that these facts are
indubitably established ? What is the process of reasoning,
by which all inquirers, qualified to judge, are satisfied of
the truth of these facts ? It is by that same process of
inductive reasoning to which I have already adverted. It is
a fact, ascertained from a satisfactory number of examples,
that animals of a certain structure have peculiar habits ; that
these habits, in all cases, imply certain instincts ; and that
these instincts are invariably accompanied with their appro¬
priate organs, and placed in their appropriate spheres of gratifi¬
cation ? But can we suppose that this correspondence be¬
tween the nature and condition of the lower animals is confined
to them? Are they alone privileged in this? Is it with re¬
spect to them alone, that we are authorized to infer, that there
must be an adaptation between the inherent principles of their
constitution and the circumstances in which they are placed ?
_ Is man, for example, of all created beings, the only one, whose
inherent and essential capacities are to remain undeveloped,
his necessary desires unprovided for, the absolute claims of his
structure unsupplied ? Are the instincts of his higher nature
the only ones which are to be disappointed and baffled? Is
all that is especially characteristic of man, as man, to be
The Argument for Natural Religion. 15
foiled in its obvious end and aim ? This will appeai as
irreconcilable with the true spirit of philosophizing, as It is
abhorrent to all the natural sentiments of our hearts. On the
contrary, we are ohligedy and that, too, by the very constitu¬
tion of our natures, to Infer, in respect to man, as in reference
to all other beings known to us, that all his powers, all his
capacities, all the inherent principles of his being, are indica¬
tive of his true condition and destiny. And if there be, there¬
fore, any of these, which can find no adequate objects here,
but demand, so to speak, another and a higher sphere of
action, we are obliged to conclude, by every principle of
sound philosophy, that there is such a sphere of action, where
these claims shall be met and answered.
What, then, is the true condition of man in this respect ?
In the answer to this inquiry will be seen the application of
this course of argument to the subject before us.
And here I take distinctly the position, that man is essen¬
tially a religious heing.^ I do not mean by this, merely that
he is made capable of directing his thoughts, at will, to re¬
ligious subjects ; or of yielding, occasionally, to religious im¬
pressions ; or of performing, at certain times, specific devo¬
tional acts ; but that a recognition of God, as the august author
of his being ; a conviction of dependence and reliance upon
him, as the Sovereign Dispenser of his lot ; a feeling of ac-
countableness to Him as a moral agent ; and a sense of his
relations to another and higher state of existence ; —all these
make a necessary, an indestructible, nay, a preeminent part of
his very nature. It is this meaning I wish to convey, when
I advance the proposition that man is essentially a religious
being.
1, This is asserted, in the first place, on the ground, that
the idea of a Supreme Intelligence, Maker and Ruler of the
Universe, upon whom we and all things depend, is universal ;
and, therefore, is suggested by, and makes a part of, the very
constitution of man. It is possible, and not wholly improbable,
* " Man may rather be defined a religious than a rational character,
in regard that in other creatures there may be something of reason, but
there is nothing of religion." — Harrington. See also " The true Plan
of a Living Temple, or Man considered in his proper Relation to the
ordinary Occupations of Life," by the author of the " Morning and Even¬
ing Sacrifice," &c., where the position of the text is fully sustained.
16 The Argument for Natural Religion.
that there are some exceptions to this remark. There, may be
persons who have succeeded in the perilous attempt of argu¬
ing themselves out of this belief. And there may be human
beings whose mental and moral natures are so little developed,
or so entirely imbruted, or so mystified by their own perverse
speculations, as to be, in a great measure, without the idea of
that Being, whom we denominate God. But, notwithstanding
these exceptions, which are of no moment in the view I now
wish to present of this subject, it may be safely asserted that
this idea of God universally prevails. Wherever man is,
there is this thought, this deep-seated conviction. And, as all
minds contain it, so all languages express it. There is an
answering term to our word God, wherever men communicate
with one another in intelligible signs and sounds. And this
is proof enough, that it naturally and necessarily suggests itself
to human minds. We are so constituted, that we cannot help
inferring, that whatever exists implies a producing cause; and
we are placed in a world, where we cannot help seeing a
wondrous fabric of things around us, which we are sure could
not have made itself, and a wonderful adaptation of means to
ends in all that we behold, which we know could not have
thus arranged themselves. Thus it is
" The heavens declare the glory of God !
•x* # #
They have no speech, nor language,
And their voice is not heard ;
Yet their sound goeth forth to all the earth.
And their words to the end of the world."
The ideas, moreover, of the illimitable^ both in space and
time, o( the perfect, the absolute, are essential states of human
thought, and are, indeed, all implied in the ideas of what is
limited, imperfect, and dependent.^ It requires no learning,
* See this well stated by Cousin, " Lectures on Locke." The
thought, however, is by no means original with him. It is laid down
with great distinctness by Dr. Cudworth, (Int. Syst. Book V. c. 5.); and
is illustrated by hira, in a very apt quotation from Boëthius, (De Con¬
solât. Phil. Lib. III.) : " Omne, quod imperfectum esse dicitur, id dimi-
nutione perfecti imperfectum esse perhibetur. Quo fit, ut si in quolibet
genere imperfectum quid esse videatur, in eo perfectum quoque aliquid
esse, necesse fit. Etenim, sublatà perfections, unde illud, quod imperfec¬
tum perhibetur, extiterit, ne fingi quidem potest." Whatsoever is said
to be imperfect, is accounted such by the diminution of that which is
Argument for Natural Religion. It
and almost no reflection, to come to these results. And hence
it is, as I have said, that wherever manjs, there is the idea of
God. It is with him, in whatsoever he does, or is, or thinks,
or feels, or hopes, or fears. As a general law of his being, he
can no more divest himself of it, than he can divest himself of
his own mind. It belongs, moreover, necessarily to all men,
in all places, in all the different aspects of the human char¬
acter, and in all relations and circumstances. Here then we
find the seminal principle of religion, — the idea and belief of
a God, laid in the very nature of man. There it is, and there
it must be, while man remains man. Were we to proceed no
further, then, in this inquiry, it is to be regarded, as an incon¬
trovertible truth, that our natures are indelibly stamped with
that grand "central thought" of all religion, — the idea of a
Gob.*
2. I next observe that man is constituted a religious being,
by that principle of his nature, called Conscience, by which he
approves, or disapproves, of human actions as right or wrong.
Now if it can be shown, first, that this principle is an inherent
part of man's nature ; and, secondly, that it is, in itself, a strictly
religious principle ; it will follow, as a necessary consequence,
that man is made, by his conscience, a religious being.
First, then, we are so constituted that we cannot help dis¬
tinguishing some actions as right, and some actions as wrong.
This perception of differences in conduct is universal. It is
one of the earliest judgments which are exhibited in the minds
of children ; and is, as many of us may have observed, in
perfect ; from whence it comes to pass, that if, in any kind, any thing
appear imperfect, there must of necessity be something also, in that
kind, perfect. For perfection being once taken away, it could not be
imagined, from whence that which is accounted imperfect should have
proceeded."
* I intended to insert here a distinct topic, on the Universality of
human belief in a Superintending Providence ; and also one on the Uni¬
versal Prevalence of Prayer among men, including, of course, a belief
that prayer will be heard and answered, or, in other words, a belief
in the Efficacy of Prayer. But I plainly foresaw that the time assigned
to the Lecture would not permit me to discuss these points. I refer
any who may wish to see these topics more ably treated, on the whole,
than in any professed theological work within my knowledge, to a
novel, entitled " Tremaine" ascribed to the Hon. Mr. Ward, a member
of the British Parliament, author of "De Fêre," and other works of
fiction,
3
18 The Argument for Natural Religion.
proportion to their knowledge and capacity, singularly just and
unerring. In the midst of our confused, perverse, and often
willingly blinded views of right and wrong, we may frequently
have occasion to stand rebuked in the clear light of their fresh
thoughts, and take counsel from their pure and single-minded
decisions. This apprehension of right and wrong, moreover,
is found in every class and condition of men, in all ages, and
in all climes. All languages, as in respect to the idea of a
God, contain terms which distinctly express it, and which will
bear no other interpretation. We ourselves involuntarily re¬
cognise it, in all those moral judgments of conduct, which we
pass, and cannot help passing, upon all we see, and all we
hear, of the conduct of others. It manifests itself in that spon¬
taneous homage we pay to one class of actions, and the irre¬
pressible disgust and reprehension we visit on another, in read¬
ing the records of past times and men ; and it is one great
source of the interest we feel in the pictured scenes of the
drama, of romance, and of poetry. It lies, moreover, at the very
basis of all social order, and of all civil establishments ; since,
without the guiding light and restraining authority of con¬
science, it is plain, all written constitutions and compacts of
government would prove unavailing ; civil laws and regulations
would want their highest, ultimate, and only efficient sanction;
oaths would be as \vind ; * there could be no public sentiment
friendly to public order; each and all would be left to pursue
the course their own selfish passions and impulses might
prompt ; universal misrule and confusion must be the inevitable
result, and the whole fabric of society be resolved into its
primordial elements. This principle, also, is presupposed in
all direct and" specific revelation; since revelation does not
create the faculty of deciding between right and wrong, but
addresses itself to man as already possessed of this power.
Conscience thus rests habitually in every bosom, like the
mysterious power of the Urim and Thummim on the breast¬
plate of the Jewish high priest ; while revelation is that added
light from God's dwelling-place in heaven, by which its hidden
virtue is disclosed and manifested.f And now, I ask, is a
* " Pacts and covenants (into which some would resolve all civil
power), without this obligation in conscience, are nothing but words
and breath." Cudworth, Int. Syst. B. V, c. 5.
f What the Urim and Thummim were is very doubtful, and equally
The Argument for Natural Religion.
19
principle thus universal, thus necessarily connected with the
very condition of man in this world, to be accounted for on
any other supposition than that it is an essential part of his
being ?
But, if further proof be wanting, interrogate your own
consciousness, look into your own bosoms, and you cannot
fail to find it. What passes there when you reflect upon your
own conduct, and that, too, independently of your own wills
and wishes. When you have performed any act of justice,
kindness, beneficence, public spirit, or magnanimity, do you,
can you, feel self-reproached and guilty? And, on the other
hand, if you have neglected the claims of others, closed your
hearts against the cry of distress, and are as conscious, as that
you live, that self is the axis on which your whole conduct
turns, do you, can you, feel a sentiment of self-approval ? We
all know, that this is not the fact, that it cannot be. And we all
know, further, that these decisions of the monitor within are
not taught^ — they are not the effect of Education, but existed
before teaching and education began. It is true this principle,
by which we decide on the moral character of actions may be
neglected, perverted, spurned, silenced, as any other native
principle may be. It may be partially or wholly destroyed, as
a man may cut off a limb or commit suicide. But, neverthe¬
less, while he keeps his moral nature unimpaired, he can no
more escape from his natural apprehensions of right and wrong,
than he can escape from himself. That these apprehensions,
in other words, that conscience is a necessary principle of our
natures, must, then, I think, be admitted.
And further, (and this was the other point in reference to
the question before us, to be proved,) I observe, that this
principle is strictly a religious principle. And this appears
from two other facts in relation to it, both of which are
matters of consciousness. The first is, that Conscience not
only passes upon human actions, as abstractly right or wrong ;
but, what is a necessary consequence of this, it passes also
upon the agents, as good or evil doers. And this, moreover,
it does with an authority, which no man, without doing vio¬
lence to his nature, can resist. We all know that there is this
authoritative tribunal in the breast, which, without being con-
so, how they were consulted. I have adopted, in the text, the notion
of Josephus, Antiq. Lib. ill. cap. 8.
20 The Argument for Natural Religion,
suited, which, wholly independently of our wishes, approves
or condemns us as worthy or unworthy. This is what the
Apostle meant when he said, that " men are a law unto them¬
selves." The other fact in regard to this principle, to which
I referred, and which seals and completes its authority, as a
religious principle, is, that it not only arraigns, and approves
or condemns us, before its own tribunal, but it asserts one fur¬
ther prerogative,—it obliges us to look forward to another
and higher tribunal, which will hereafter sanction and enforce
all the decisions of its own. This enters into the very idea of
those judgments of ourselves, which we call Conscience. It
makes an inherent and necessary part of them. It cannot,
even in thought, be separated from the consciousness of guilt
and self-approval. And for all this I appeal again to the ex¬
perience of every man, whose nature, as a man, has been even
tolerably developed, and who has not palsied and imbruted it
by a long course of obdurate sinfulness. Conscience, then,
not only decides on the moral character of actions as right or
wrong ; not only approves or condemns us, as worthy or guilty,
and, in consequence, as the objects of reward and punishment
here ; but ohliges us to looTc forward to a more searching and
effectual decision hereafter. Thus it is, that the voice of
Conscience is a prophetic voice. It anticipates the award of
that solemn sentence, which is hereafter to be passed upon
all the " deeds done in the body, whether they be good, or
whether they be bad." It is, as it has been said, a plain
declaration from the Author of our minds, informing us how he
will deal with us, and upon what the exercise of his goodness
is suspended.* And it is this necessary reference to an un¬
seen Witness and Judge of conduct, to the blessed hopes of
future reward, to the awful requitals of future punishment,
that completes the whole idea of Conscience, and endows it
with a strictly religious authority.f
The w^hole moral history of man is a continual illustration of
the views I have now presented of this subject. The senti¬
ment of guiltiness, for example,—disguise it from others as we
may, by a careless or cheerful outward bearing, look, and tones,
— the sentiment of guiltiness, — disguise it from ourselves as
* Price's Morals, p. 137, 2d edition.
f See on this whole topic Bishop Butler's Sermon, " Upon the Natu^
ral Supremacy of Conscience."
The Argument for Natural Religion.
21
we may attempt to do, by engagements of business, amuse¬
ment, or frivolity, — the sentiment of guiltiness, I say, is one
of the most universal that pervades human bosoms, that is,
where human bosoms are left to their own natural movements.
Whence comes it ? Where, but from that monitor within,
which is continually " accusing or else excusing us " ? What,
again, is the resource of men under this sense of guiltiness ? We
see them everywhere seeking to make expiation and atonement
for it, by religious acts or exercises. Why are altars built ;
incense burned ; victims made to bleed ; the smoke of sacri¬
fices to ascend ; long processions drawn out ; privations
and tortures self-inflicted ; why, above all, the prayer for
mercy, when all merely earthly retributions are over ? Is not
the answer plain ? They are the expressions of the spirit's
agony under a sense of guiltiness. They are the ofTerings
which a wounded conscience prompts ; and they declare, as
in a voice of many thunders, that man is made, hy this very
Conscience, a religious being.
3. Man, in the next place, is constituted a religious being,
by the natural sentiments of his heart. This theme is rich
and various, and entirely in point ; but I cannot stop to illus¬
trate it any further than may be necessary to show its appli¬
cation to the subject under remark. I observe, then, that man
is so formed and endowed, that he cannot help feeling those
sentiments, which lead him directly to his God, and of which
God is the ultimate and most proper object. Thus we are
so constituted, that the sentiment called Love is awakened in
our bosoms by the contemplation of moral goodness where¬
soever found. Now, as the only idea we can form of God, is
the sum and substance of all that is good in all things else,
enlarged and perfected beyond all bounds, and centred in
one infinitely great and glorious Being; — it is plain, that, in
the same degree as we lift ourselves up to a just contempla¬
tion of the character of God, the love of God must be " shed
abroad in our hearts." That this love does not take a more
entire possession of them, is owing to our inattention, to our
neglect of His character and claims, and especially to a sense
of unworthiness, which dashes our conceptions of Him with
guilt and fear. But that the human heart was made to love
God, to delight itself in Him, to make Him its all in all, is
just as clear as that the human heart is made to delight in
moral goodness. In like manner, the kindred sentiment of
22 The Argument for Natural Religion.
Religious Gratitude is natural to man. We are so made, that
our hearts turn in thankfulness towards the author of any good
done or intended for us ; and shall they not melt within us at
the thought of the rich, free, ceaseless, boundless, and, above
all, the undeserved goodness of our God ?
Thus, again, we are so constituted, that Wisdom, blended
with high Moral Excellence, calls forth the sentiment de¬
nominated Veneration ; — that the thought of Infinite Power,
moving as a willing slave at the suggestions of Infinite Good¬
ness, produces the sentiment we denominate Awe ; — that
what is Sacred and August in Character, viewed in connex¬
ion with our inferiority and comparative worthlessness, excites
within us the sentiment denominated Reverence ; — and shall
not all these sentiments, with a united, full, and all-pervading
influence, take possession of our hearts, when we think of Him,
who is the highest, best, and worthiest object of them all ?
In a word, is it not plain, that all those elevated feelings, which
peculiarly belong to us as men, and ally and identify our souls
with every thing that is truly great and endearing in the uni¬
verse, find in God, and in Him alone, from whom they spring,
their proper end and aim ? Do they not thus appear to be
strictly devotional, and thus, in their turn and sphere, exhibit
man to us as a strictly religious being ?
4. I shall now ask your attention to only one more illustration
of the argument before us. It is, that man is constituted a re¬
ligious being by the inherent wants and capacities of the soul.
And I first observe, that the soul has Aspirations^ which soar
above all earthly good ; which, passing the bounds of space and
time, aim at the infinite, the perfect, the absolute, the eternal. It
has native instincts, which cannot be destroyed, which cannot
be repressed, which, refusing to be satisfied by things seen
and present, reach forward to an unknown and an unimagina¬
ble good. These, too, are necessary and constituent parts of
ourselves. They are inherent principles in all minds. They
are everywhere found. They are everywhere expressed.
They belong, as a birth-right, to the good. The bad, though
they may pervert, cannot wholly stifle them. They arise,
unbidden, at all times. They go with us into all places.
They remain with us through all vicissitudes. No man can
point to anything in the human mind, which is more clearly
and distinctively a part of it, than those hopes and aspira¬
tions, for example, which reach forward to another state of being.
The Argument for Natural Religion
23
And, as they thus necessarily belong to us, so does every thing,
in the state in which we are placed, serve to suggest and con¬
firm them. We are reminded of them at every step. That
dream of fleeting shadows which men call life ; the obvious
imperfection and incompleteness of this present scheme of
things, viewed in itself alone ; worthy aims defeated ;
the crushing weight of disappointment and disaster, to which
we are every moment liable ; the apparent inequalities of life,
viewed in connexion with human desert ; the prosperity of the
half-good, or of the bad ; the success of selfish pursuits ; the
temporary triumphs of high-handed and desperate villany ; —
all this serves to nourish and sustain these aspirations after a
happiness not yet vouchsafed, a state of rest and peace not yet
secured. Hence, too, the dissatisfaction that waits on any
mere earthly enjoyment ! Hence the weariness of what we
fondly call pleasure ! Hence the disappointment of what we
name success ! Hence the desolation of heart, which neither
rank, nor wealth, nor fame, nor influence over others, nor all
that this world can give, is able to cheer or to irradiate !
Possess what we may, enjoy what we may, of these limited
and perishable things, still, still there remains a void in the
heart, a great, a mighty, a shoreless, a fathomless void, which
nothing short of that blessed, though dimly revealed state of
the soul, which we call heaven, — nothing, with solemn awe
be it spoken, —nothing hut God himself, can fill !
And, further, these instinctive hopes and aspirations of the
soul are indestructible. They awake with the opening facul¬
ties of the mind ; they go with us into all its subsequent
changes ; they connect themselves with all our desires, plans,
and pursuits ; they remain with us while a ray of consciousness
remains ; they are brightest in the dark hour of death ; and they
are our strongest support, when every thing that belongs to
earth and time fails. In a word, they are rooted and inter¬
twined among all the fibres of human hearts, and they cannot
be eradicated, but by tearing asunder and annihilating human
hearts. And is not this a plain declaration, on the part of
Him who made us, that these hopes and aspirations are not
without a divine significance ; — that, as they are inherently and
essentially a part of man's nature, so they, like the voice of
conscience, are prophetical ; and that, therefore, we are cre¬
ated and are intended for another and a higher state of being,
where these hopes and these aspirations shall meet with their
ample and entire fulfilment ?
24 The Argument for Natural Religion,
And what is thus asserted of the inherent wants of the souI,
is also true of its inherent Capacities. This world is all too
narrow for these. They demand higher objects, a wider
range, and a fuller developement. The human mind, or intel¬
lect, for example, in all its various states and acts, still reaches
onward and onward after further light. Every truth attained,
so far from satisfying it, is regarded but as the embryo prin¬
ciple of truths yet undiscovered ; and he who knows the most,
is only thereby better convinced than others, of the extent
and boundlessness of human ignorance. And if any could
master the whole world of things known, his achievements, in
this respect, so far from leading him to rest and peace, would
prompt the idle sigh for other worlds of intellect to conquer.
The thirst of the soul for knowledge is unquenchable. No¬
thing on earth can slake it. It pants after, and will be satis¬
fied by, nothing less than the fountains of truth, yet unre-
vealed to mortal eyes, which spring up in eternal life.
The same is true of the Affections of our natures. These
are all boundless in their scope and range. All that they
grasp serves to remind man of what he possesses not, and
their highest gratification ends in discontent. Thus it is that
they comprise, within themselves, the principles of infinite
growth and infinite expansion. Time cannot limit them, earth
cannot confine them, death cannot destroy them. True friend¬
ship, pure love, parental tenderness, filial devotion, all the sin¬
cere, intimate, and deep affections of the human heart, are
indestructible. They depend not for their vitality or endur¬
ance on the circumstances which first called them forth. They
survive vicissitude ; survive the absence of their objects ; live
on when these are dead ; and follow them in longing hope of
reunion, of a reunion indissoluble and eternal, beyond the line
of time. And can affections, thus bearing the impress of
immortality, thus instinct with the principles of everlasting life,
find any worthy, any fitting scope or range within the limits of
this present state? Nay, is not the very supposition fraught
with wretchedness !
5. Finally, there is also our capacity of Moral Progress. This,
like the rest, is endless, exhaustless, ever new, ever growing,
never satisfied. Every moral attainment, to him who is true to
the nature which God has given him, is but a " vantage ground"
gained for a higher and nobler effort. Man, by his very constitu¬
tion, is ever destined to press towards the " prize of his high
The Argument for Natural Religion,
25
calling," and this is nothing else or less, than an ever-growing
likeness to his God.
I have thus endeavoured to show that man is made a reli*
gious being ; first, by that Relation which he cannot but feel
to his Creator and Sovereign Ruler ; — secondly, by that prin¬
ciple of Conscience, which sits enthroned, as God, within'him,
and whose voice is declarative of the decisions of a higher
tribunal; — thirdly, by those Sentiments of Love, Gratitude,
Reverence, and Awe, which reach forward and centre upon
God as their most fitting and final object; —fourthly, by those
Hopes and Aspirations, which not only can find nothing to
meet or satisfy them in this present state, but are made, by
the very emptiness and vanity of things here below, con¬
sidered in themselves alone, to seek higher objects, a diviner
range, and a brighter manifestation in a future world ; — and,
fifthly, by that Capacity of Moral Progress, which is a distinc¬
tive attribute of man, and which is obviously only in its earliest
germ here.
And now I ask if there be any over-statements in this view
of the subject? I ask,—if the idea of God, if a sense of
moral accountability, are not natux_aL_ig^naari>-.and do not
enter into the very structure and habits of the soul ? I ask,
— whether there bé "any, m the"happiest condition of an
earthly existence, who do not feel, down in the depths of their
spirits, a craving want, an irrepressible desire for a good not
yet attained, and which, obviously, this life cannot give ? I
ask,—if all the faculties of their inward natures, — their ca¬
pacity of knowledge ; their capacity of feeling ; their capacity
of ever-growing virtue ; can be satisfied with what this v/orld
has, or can supply ? None, of any serious habits of thought, can
hesitate in a reply to these questions. None, possessing any
habits of thought and reflection, will venture to gainsay a tittle
of these statements. They are all as familiar to us as house¬
hold words.
And as man is thus essentially constituted a religious being,
so, yet iurtlier, is his religious nature his peculiar, his •preemi¬
nent distinction. This thought is extremely important, and
important to my argument, but I have now no time to un¬
fold or enforce it. Suffice it to say, that man is thus sepa¬
rated from all other creatures here below, and he is thus
" crowned with glory and honor," in reference to all the other
capacities of his own being. What were man without that
4
26 The Argument for Natural Religion,
grand, that all-comprehending thought, the idea of a God? —
What were man without the arbiter of conscience in his bosom?
— a principle, which, as has been said, if it had power
as it has authority, had it strength as it has right, would
rule supreme over the moral world. What are the af¬
fections but "springs of woe," until they are purified of
their earthliness, and find an object in God suited to their
infinite growth and boundless expansion? What, in fine, are
those wants, hopes, aspirations, and illimitable capacities of
moral improvement, which connect the soul with another state
of existence, but prophetical messages of the real destiny of
man ? Do not all these constitute his peculiar privilege, his
great, his emphatical, his highest, his crowning distinction.
Now, if this be so, — and here we perceive the application
of the argument before us, — if this be so, — and if, further,
it be admitted, as it needs must, that through all the inferior
orders of creation it is ascertained as a universal law, or
general fact, that every organ, function, instinct, has assigned
to it its appropriate sphere, element, and means of gratification;
^ and if, yet further, as I have now shown at large, man is essen¬
tially and distinctively a rclis^ious being, with ideas, states of
rnind, moral wants, desires, and capacities, which are not met
and answered here,—we are obliged to conclude, upon the
soundest principles of the Inductive Reasoning, that he is des¬
tined to a sphere hereafter, where these essential principles of
his nature shall be recognised and fully satisfied. This must
be admitted, unless we are prepared to say, that this corre¬
spondence of sphere to organs and functions is limited to animal
existence, and that, while every lower instinct is carefully, I
had almost said, anxiously, provided for, and points out inva¬
riably the end and aim of the individual to which it belongs,
— the instincts of the soul which fasten upon God, and reach
after immortality, are implanted in vain, nay, worse than in vain,
— implanted only, and that too by Him who placed them
there, to mock and to deceive us.
I here bring this lecture to a close. While, for the reasons
before stated, I feel obliged to consider the abstract, or à pri¬
ori argument, however derived, or howsoever applied, as, on the
whole, of little or no value in establishing the great truths or
facts of Natural Theology ; these are still susceptible of proof,
which is as convincing as any evidence whatsoever; — of
proof that cannot be gainsaid or resisted, without falsifying
I
The Argument for Natural Religion» 27
all the conclusions of Inductive Philosophy, as applied to the
phenomena of the physical universe; — of proof, upon which
we do and must act, in every hour of our conscious existence.
The argument is capable of various applications, and the
subject suggests some highly practical and useful trains of
thought. But I dismiss it with a single remark, which I would
leave, at parting, with entire distinctness on every mind, and
especially I would commend it to the reflection of the younger
part of my audience. It is, that religion, in the sense already
explained, is not a rule or obligation arbitrarily siy)ennduced
upon the nature ot mahV ^t is hot""r^ere^externai bond,
which he is at liberty to assumé'^oFTájTTside ât will. It is
not a contrivance or the wise to hold in leading-strings the
simple. ITTFTiót an invention 7>r"tTre"'pFest^ for
themselves an unhallowed influence. But it is a law, written
upon our hearts, as by the hnger oí Almighty uod. it was
bFeafiïedTntonjs^w the breath onife. It is indissolubly
infêTwôvênTwTt'Ii^'aîl the pr!hcîpTes"of our sfnffluaT nature. It
is'TcteTrTÍflü3"WÍttT that inspiration, wKîcb''"âï'Tirë hfsT gave us un¬
derstanding. It is as inherently and clearly a part of our very
being, as the power of thinking, feeling, willing, and acting.
Darated from a human heing-. than that
It is no more to be se
consciousness, by which he is assured of his identity from day
to day. Nor is this alb It Is his preeminent, his distinctive,
TÏ1S crowning prerogative. And he, therefore, who attempts
to live, in any way, in a neglect or disavowal of his religious
nature, not only neglects and disavows a high and imperative
obligation, enstamped by God on his very constitution ; not
only is heedless of the heaven-inspired and heaven-directed
wants and calls of his own spirit ; but lives, even in his happi¬
est earthly lot, but in a part, and in infinitely the poorest part,
of his mortal being. *
Let then every thing be hallowed by " a high consecra¬
tion " to religious uses. Remember,
" He that desires to see
The face of God, in his religion, must
Sincere, entire, content, and humble be."
Let nothing come in competition with the established claims,
* " The whole faculties of man must be exerted in order to noble
energies; and he who is not earnestly sincere, lives but in half his
being, self-mutilated, self-paralyzed."— Coleridge's Friend»
28 The Argument for Natural Religion.
the rightful supremacy, of your religious capacities and powers.
Let nothing mar, debase, or impair them. Let the idea of
God sit enthroned, as God, within you. Let the authentic
and imperative voice of conscience be ever, and under all cir¬
cumstances, implicitly obeyed. Honor it.- Reverence it.
Fall down before it. Give it the entire homage of your entire
soul. Let religious sentiment control and sanction all other
emotions. Let the fear of God cast out all other fear. Let
the love of God hallow all other love. And let those far-
reaching hopes and aspirations, which antedate the blessedness
of a future world, and that capacity of moral progress, which
is the present pledge of a future glory, sanctify to holy uses,
every pursuit, desire, and object in the life that now is.
The Mystery of Christ,
A
SERMON
DELIVERED IN THE CITY OP WASHINGTOÎÎ,
*
\
October Tf 1821.
■
WITH KOTHS^ CHIEFLY IK REFB&EKOE TO A FOBLI-
CATIOH BY THE BEY« AHTHOHY KOHLMABK ;
The First Namber of wlüch professes to cotttain
A COMPLEtB BBPVTAriON OP THE FüHDAMEStAC
PEJNCIPLSS OE üJfXTABÍAN2$M,
By ROBERT LITTLE.
WASHINGTON :
PBlNTBD AIÏD SOLD BY W. OOOPER9 SOLD AISÓ UE
THOMPSOBy & BY F. LUCAS^ BAiTptOHB.
1821.
/
k
)
PREFACE-
The following discourse was not composed with a view
to publication; butjiaving intentionally a bearing on the
late attack upon the system of Unitarianism by Mr. iCohl-
mann, and also upon the violent unchristian-like abuse heaped
on us every Sunday from certain pulpits in this neighbour¬
hood ; the congregation to whom it was addressed solicited
it to be printed.
We have no complaint against Mr. K-, or others, for dis¬
cussing and attempting to refute our opinions. We wish to
have them discussed ; we have no objection to be refuted, if
our opponents are able to do so. But we would have them
defer announcing their triumph till they are su re of it. There
was good advice given to an ancient king, which it may be
advantageous to them to recollect, " let not him that girdeth
on his harness boast himself as he that putteth it off.''
#
The full examination of Mr. K's book, will doubtless be
undertaken in due time ; and probably the Unitarian Miscel¬
lany will be the vehicle of his answer. In the present Ser¬
mon and Notes, only his unscriptural notion about religious
mysteries is the object of notice. But as this is an error of
fundamental importance to the whole Trinitarian scheme,
whether adopted by Catholics or Protestants, it is desirable
to call their attention to what the New-Testament teaches
on this subject. Or whether they will attend impartially to
this inquiry or not, we earnestly wish that Unitarians may
have a scriptural and consistent view of it.
/
A SERMON,
&c.
Ephesians iîL 4. The Mystery of Christ.
i
Biblical critics have entertained doubts concerning
the accuracy of the inscription of this epistle, as it stands in
our received versions, and indeed in all the modern Greek
copies. For certainly there is something in it scarcely com¬
patible with the opinion of its being ori^nally addressed to
the Ephesians. We know that Paul spent three years at
and in the neighbourhood of Ephesus, planting the Gospel
there, and with very distinguished success. It appears that
he was personally intimate with the principal disciples in that
city, and had much private and confidential intercourse with
«
them. In addressing the elders of the Ephesian church,
whom he sent for to meet him at Miletus, on his journey to
Jerusalem, he said « Ye know from the first day that I came
into Asia, after what manner I have been with you at all
seasons, serving the Lord with all humility of mind and
how I kept back nothing that was profitable unto you, but
have showed you, and have taught you publicly, and from
house to house." " Watch, and remember that by the space
of three years, I çeased not to warn every one, night and
day, with tears." Acts xx. 18, 19, 20, 31. - Now how are
these facts to be reconciled with what is said in the eon-
nexion of our text ? « If ye have heard of the dispensation
of the grace of God which is given me to you-ward." " How
G
#
«
that by revelation he made known untci me the mystery, as
I wrote afore in a few words; whereby when ye read, ye may
understand my knowledge in the mystery of Christ."* Was
it possible that the Ephesians needed to be informed of this,
or could they be strangers to Paul's pretensions and minis¬
try? This surely appears very like addressing persons
with whom he had no personal intimacy.
»
To solve this difficulty, it has been remarked, that one
very ancient manuscript, and several early copies of this
epistle, have not the w^ord Ephesus in ch. 1, v. I. By some
early writers it was called the epistle to the Laodiceans, and
we know from Coloss. iv. 16. that Paul did write a letter
to Laodicea, which, if this be not the same, is not now extant*
WHien this epistle is read among you, cause that it be liad
also in the church of the Laodiceans ; and that ye likewise
read the epistle from Ijaodicea." If it be so, I think the
present inscription may be accounted for: for as the Colos-
sians were to send their epistle to Laodicea, and Paul's let¬
ter to the Laodiceans was to be sent to Colosse, makingthem
both a sort of circular to those churches, and perhaps to the
other churches in lesser Asia, we may reasonably infer that
the Laodicean epistle would in its turn be sent to Ephesus,
which was the next great city to Colosse, on the shore of
the Agean sea. Here the original writing might remain, and
as the Laodiceans very early became lukewarmf and depart¬
ed from the faith, the name of the church that retsdned it
might become permanently attached to it. Tliese remarks
may appear to some unimportant, but they show that tliis
epistle may have been written by Paul—may have gone cir- ^
cuitously to Ephèsus without being originally addressed to
that church—and consequently the passage connected with
oiir text may be perfectly consistent with the history of ^
Paul's labours in - planting the gospel there. These conclu¬
sions are of use to those who revere the apostolical writings,
an^ who are anxious to ascertain ánd settle every thing that
t
• Ephes. iii. 2,3, 4. f Rev. iii. 14—16.
7
pertains to their authenticity and genuineness.* Patient,
cardid, and free exan.ination, will in many cases remoTC or
lessen those difficulties and discrepancies, Avhich, to persons
unreasonably sceptical, may appear insuperable.
Let us now proceed to consider the words of the text.
We shall enquire
I. What Paul intended by—the Mystery of Christ.
«
II. Why he gave this subject the appellation, Mystery.
9
Some general inferences from the whole will close the
discourse.
J
' What did Paul intend by the mystery of Christ ? It is
curious to observe how much our thoughts on religious topics
are governed and led by the prepossessions of education;
^ and how the ideas we early associated with ceiiain phraseo¬
logy, will rise and recur by the mere sounds that have for¬
merly excited them, without respect to the obvious sense of
the passages in which such phrases occur. Thus, upon the
fiist reading these words, " the mystery of Christ," a good
orthodox christian would naturally expect that Paul was
about to discourse upon the sublime and mysterious union of
the divine and human natures in his one Person—^or perhaps,
the ineffable mystery of his eternal sonship and essential
union with the Father—or the mystery of his holy incarna¬
tion—or his being our substitute .and representative, bearing
our sins, and transfering to us his righteousness—or the
mystery of his union with the church, so that they form one
mystical body« and truly partake of his flesh and blood.
These, and some other points connected with them, are now
considered so essential to the scheme of redemption, that a
sermon without these prominent features is thought to con¬
tain nothing of Christianity. How very extraordinary it must
«
• See more on this subject in Paley's Hone Paulinîe, Article
Epistle to the Ephesians, îio. IV.
s
seem to such persons, that the mystery of Chiist^'
tioned by Paul in our text, does not contain, nor even allude
to, any one of these subjects. Because we affirm and attempt
to prove, that the christian world has been mistaken as to the
ori^n of these doctrines, which now pass current for evan¬
gelical truth, and that they did not constitute the gospel as it
was first delivered by the apostles, we are assailed from
almost every pulpit, on every Sabbath, with the overflowings
of illiberality, bigotry, and ignorance. We are denounced
as the enemies of God and religion, as out of the pale of sal¬
vation, and unworthy of the slightest expression of christian
charity. With the most pious indifference about the ever¬
lasting agonies which they proclaim as our inevitable portion,
the Methodist, the Presbyterian, the Episcopalian, and the
Catholic, forget awhile the bitter differences that subsist
among themselves, and unite to prognosticate, and hope for,
our damnation !
But why is all this alarm í Why this strong effervescence
of the odium theologicumi May one be permitted to ask of
these terrified religionists, what is it that has aioused you thus?
* Has the stone, cut out without hands, smitten the colos¬
sal image which your fathers set up, so that you fear it will not
be able to stand ? Alas ! your fears are greater than our hopes.
We did not apprehend that the slender perceptions of truffi
to which we had attained, and which we are enabled so im^
perfectly to communicate, would have produced such effects
as these. Yet, whatever you may feel or fear, we entreat
you, be not rancorous, abusive, or profane. We cannot con¬
tend with you thus. Make not too free with Jove's thunder.
That is a dangerous weapon, too heavy for mortal hands to
wield. If you will confine yourselves to calm reasoning, or
I
* " A stone was cut out without hands^ which smote the image
upon his feet.—Then was the Iron, the Clay, the Brass, the Silver
and the Gold broken to pieces together, and became like the chaff of
the summer threshing floors ; and the yvmd caxtied them away, that
no place was found for them»*' Dan. ii. 34^ 35.
9
dispassionate appeals to scripture, we will meet you there.
But mere assertion, wordy declamation, and virulent asper¬
sions. are esteemed as nothing—worse than nothing. They
are confessions of weakness* These shafts, though rugged,
are pointless ; they are thrown too by an unsteady hand, with
indistinct vision, and reach not their mark. We have no
objection to the ancient appeal, <'to the law and the testi¬
mony : if we speak not according to this rule^ there is no
light in us."
To return to our text. We observe that the connexion
»
clearly and fully explains what the apostle meant by the
mystery of Christ." " Which" says he, " in other ages was
not made known unto the sons of men, as it is now revealed
unto his holy apostles and prophets by the spirit." What is
made known ? Why " that the Gentiles should be fellow
heirs, and of the same body, and partakers of his pro¬
mise in christ by the gospel."* The same thing he had
previously asserted in the commencement of the epistle
•^having made known unto us .the mystery of his will, ac¬
cording to his good pleasure, which he hath purposed in
himself : that in the dispensation of the fulness of time, he
might gather together in one all things in Christ."t By the
name of Christ here, we are perhaps not to understand him¬
self personally, but the christian scheme ; of which he was the
founder and head. Many passages in the New-Testament
require this mode of interpretation to render the sense of the
writers perspicuous. One example may suffice. " In Christ
Jesus, (i. e. in the christian religion,) neither circumcision
availeth any thing, nor uncircumcision, but a new creature,"!
The substance therefore of the mystery which was revealed to
Paul, was this ; that in the christian age or dispensation,
persons of every country and of all the various conditions in
society, should be united in one profession, and be made
partakers of the divine favour through a virtuous life, with¬
out being enslaved to aúy system of ceremonial religion.
%
* Ver, 5, 6. Ch. i, 9,10, J Gallatians^ vi, 15.
2
10
4
To understand the importance of tliis discovery^ it is ne¬
cessary to remember that the whole world was previously
dividetl into two classes, Idolaters and Jews, The latter
denounced the former as dogs and reprobates, and believed
their salvation was impossible unless they were converted
to Moses, and submitted to the rites and ceremonies enjoined
by the law. This persuasion prevailed fora long time among
the Hebrew christians, and occasioned much trouble and dis¬
sension among the .úrst believers of the gospel. The fif¬
teenth chapter of the Acts is a satisfactory exposition of the
state of their minds on this subject. It seems to have re¬
quired the interposition of heaven to set Peter himself right
upon this matter, and to overcome his Jewish prejudices.
AVhen Cornelius the pious Roman captain sent for him, his
language was "Ye know how that it is an unlawful thing
for a man that is a Jew to keep company orto come unto one
of another nation ; but God hath showed me that I should
nut call any man common or unclean." And when he was
fnrther convinced of the piety and acceptance of this devout
gentile, he exclaimed, " Of a. Iruth I perceive that God is no
respecter of persons : but in every nation he that feareth him,
and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him."* Nearly
all the epistles show that a perpetual contest upon the neces¬
sity and obligation of observing certain days, seasons, and
ceremonies, agitated the early churches; and frequently gave
occasion for the rough remonstrance, " Who art thou that
judgest another man's servant ? To his own master he stand-
eth or falleth: yea, he shall be holden up; for God is able
to make him stand."t
4
Paul considered himself as " the apostle of the Gentiles,'*
being specially appointed to the work of converting tliem to
the christian faitli, and proclaiming their perfect freedom from
all obligation to the Mosaic law. The doctrine which be
most firmly and courageously preached in all places was,
that Jesus Christ was the centre of union between Jews and
* Acts, X, 28, 34, 35. f Rom. xiv. 4.
t
11
6«ntiles, that he was the appointed head of a new dispensa¬
tion of religion, in which men of all natioas should be uni¬
ted as worshippers of the one common Father of all, on a
footing of perfect equality as brethren. Nothing but faith in
Jesus as the Son of God, a divinely commissioned messenger
to men, was necessary to put them into the possession of all
the privileges and enjoyments of Christianity: therefore, who-t
ever added any other conditions of discipleship, were impo¬
sing a yoke upon their necks, which even theii^fathers had
not been able to bear. Lastly, Paul taught, that this cordial
reception of the gospel, accompanied with works suitable to
the faith professed, would insure the final felicity of the Gen¬
tile as well as the Jew, whatever disregard of outward ritual
observances he might be chargeâ with. Such, according to
Paul, is the mystery of Christ. But
%
IL Why does he call this a mystery ? It is surely in¬
telligible enough. There is nothing dark, barbarous, con-
' eealed, or incomprehensible in this. Certainly not. But
then the accepted sense of the word mystery in scripture, is
very different from what is im^éd in it in the vocabulary of
the apostate church. Mystery in the scriptures signifies
something hidden^ not incomprehensible. It is something
either not yet knoum^ or that formerly was not known^ but
never that which cannot be known. Mystery in modern
theology signifies what is unintelligible and incomprehensi¬
ble, and which is yet an article of faith. It is the convenient
cloke for ignorance, and a mask for spiritual usurpation. It
is only among theologians that the word has ever acquired
such a sense. Many mechanical arts are technically styled
mysteries, not becausft they are incomprehensible, for then
it would be useless that the master should engage to teach his
apprentice the mystery of his trade ; but in such cases the
word is used in the very same sense as it is in scripture, to
denote something that has been Secret, but shall be made
known or explained. Mystery and revelation are indeed
12
opposed to eacli other, and correctly speaking, that which is
revealed is no longer a mystery.
But our scholastic divines have presented us with the
mystery of the holy Trinity—-the mystery of tlie Incarnation—
the mystery of the Atonement—and that most sublime of all
inystcries, Transubstantiation, or the conversion of common
bread and wine into the very body and blood of Christy
by the prayers of the priest. We ask their authority for all
this. We look through the New-Testament and can see no¬
ticing of it there. It can be traced no higher than to the in-'
.terference of busy, officious, intermeddling men, wise inr
their own conceit, and defacing, as the apostle truly said, by
a vain and false philosophy, the pure and simple system of
primitive Christianity.
The reason alleged by Paul himself, for calling the
doctrine of the universal spread and efficacy of Christianity^
a mystery, is simple and satisfactory, in other ages it was
not made known unto the sons of men." Yen o. Reason^
indeed, revolted from the appalling idea that the Father of
mercies would for ever leave the great mass of his rational
oilspring on earth, the slaves of idolatry and the delusions
connected with it ; but how and when the veil that was spread
over all nations would be taken away, and the partition wall
be broken down, no man knew. Many prophets and
kings," said Jesus to his disciples, have desired to see those
things which ye see, and have not seen them ; and to hear
tliose things which ye hear, and have not heard tbem."^
The apostle seems also, occasionally at least, to have
had allusion, when writing to the Gentile churches, to the
Eleusinian and other mysteries, held in such esteem among
the Greeks. The heathens had a two-fold form of their rcli"
gion. One was the plain popular notion of the various gode
they worshipped, and tlie public sacrifices and prayers by
* Luke^ X. 24.
13
which they were to be invoked or propitiated. But they had
a higher and secret form of instruction communicated only
td a few, and those chiefly philosophers and eminent men,
who were solemnly sworn to profound silence on the sub¬
jects communicated to them at their initiation. The initi¬
ated gloried exceedingly in being instructed in the myste¬
ries, and treated those who were ignorant of them as vulgar
and profane* Now Paul, justly considering the instructions
of the gospel as infinitely superior to all the knowledge of
the heathen philosophers, or the mysteries of their religion ;
often assumes the phrase, and applies it to the more sublime
. topics of his own ministry. ««We speak wisdom among
them that are perfect; yet not the wisdom of this world, nor
of the princes of this world, that come to nought, but we
speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, even the hidden
wisdom which God ordained before the world unto our glo- '
ry i. e. which God determined to communicate to the
world by our ministry. So also he requests the church to
whom this letter was written, to pray for him, that he might
« open his mouth boldly to make known the mystery of
the gospel.'^t
But then you observe his was not a concealed doctrine,
or one restricted to a chosen few who were the depositaries
of tlie grand secret; but the whole was proclaimed to the
world, loudly, intelligibly, universally. The mysteries of
the heathen would not bear the light of day ; to expose them
to examination would have been their destruction. The
doctrine of Christ was to be proclaimed on the house tops ;'it
forbids concealment, its publicity is its true glory, it is
adapted and intended for all mankind. Whoever under¬
stands it aright will say with Paul, «« I am not ashamed of
the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation,
• to every one that believeth, to the Jew first, and also to the
6entile."t
• 1 Cor. ii. 6,7. t Eph. vi. 19. J Rom. i, 16.
14
' Our inferences from this subject are
»
!• That mysterious doctrines and ceremonies areno parts
of genuine Christianity. I use the word mysterious here in
its common popular sense, as signifying what is obscure, un¬
intelligible, or inexplicable. We are described by our op¬
ponents as wishing to expunge all mysteries from the code
of Christianity.* So far from it, we do not believe that there
* A Complete Refutation of the Leadin;; Pnnciples of the Unitarian
System, by the Rev. Anthony Koinn, Superior of the Catholic
Seminray at Washington City. Whatever is my opinion of theiheo-
logy or logic of this gentleman^s performance, of which only two
numbers are yet published, I' wish to take this opportunity of saying
that there is an apparent good tempei- and candour, in general, in his
work wliich some Piotestant teachers would do well to imitate. His
observations are usually in a courteous and respectful style, mostly free
from acrimony and vulga illiberality I rejoice that Catholic^ a e
beginning to reason ana discuss the differences between us ; it cannot
but lead to good.
On the subject of mysteiy, however, Mr. K. seems not to under*
stand us, and I am afraid he is hardly willing to undeistand us. He
vnll insist upon it, page 16, note, that Unitarians have one commoft
principle with the infidel writers, viz. Thai what is above reason, is
against rea on. And what is scarcely consistent with the cao>iour 1 have
allowed him in general, he says, that, let Mr. Sparks, as he has doney
in his Sixth Letter to Dr Wyatt, disclaim the adoption of this maxim
as long as he please, he will neither admit that he nor his other Unita¬
rian friends have any other basis for their system. I need not answer
for Mr Sparks. But I would ask, what can we poor Unitarians do,
if our own voluntary and expUcit statement of what we do or do not
»
believe, is not to be credited ? Are we to go before a magistrate and
' make oath to our creed? Surely Mr. K. wiil retract this. I can only
speak for myself; and 1 solemnly declare that so far from holcUng the
above maxim, I believe it to l>e most foolish and false : and as far as I
know, all Unitarians do the same. Mr K further says that when the
Unitarians examine the mysteries of religion, instead of inquiring
into the motives of extrinsic credibility, as reason dii ects when we set
about to ascertain divine revelation ; or instead of inquiring, whether
God has actually revealed them or not, they on the contrary follow a
method quite the reverse ; their first and only cai c being, not to ext«
mine whether God has actually revealed thein^ and whether of course,
15
are any such to expunge from the religion of the New-Tes¬
tament. There are certain truths and facts recorded there,
that we cannot explain or account for on common principles,
as, for instance, the resurrection of the dead : but when we
admit the interposition of divine power to effect this or any
other miracle, all mystery ceases. Is any thing too hard
they are to be believed without further ado ; but to examine into the
intiinsic nature of the mysteries, in order to discover whether they
be concoiiiant with the natural ideas of reason &.c. Mr. K.
coiild not have wiitten this had he not been grossly misinformed, or
laboured under a lamentable misunderstanding ot Unitarian writers. I
will oppose to this the language of the most eminent English Unitarian
ot the pi esent day ; a man of whose friendship 1 may be allowed to feel
somewhat proud. « Unita ians," says he, << search the scnptures, they
take nothing upon trust. It is their hrst principle that all which God
reieais iv to be belkvedy and that all which God requircfiistohe done. It
follows that too much attention cannot be applied, too much pains can¬
not be taken, to distinguish the doctrines of heaven from the traditions
of men.'' Jíelsltam^s IjCiters to the Bishof of ! ondon.
1 will oppose to Mr. K's assertion, a more decided and incontrover¬
tible refutation than this It is the fact, that Unitaiian christians ñrmiy
believe in the Resurrection of Christ, and in the hnal tesunection of
all the dead. Now they do so, not because reason could discover this
doctiine, or explain in what manner a human being after death and
decomposition can be brought back to lile and consciousness. It does
not appear indeed to them unreasonable or incredible that God should
raise the dead But it it had not been made known in the scriptures,
they would have known and believed nothing about it. The resurrection
of the dead is a doctrine beyond the reach of > eason ; but the Unitaiian
believes it, because it appears to him confirmed as a revelation from
heaven. Mr. K does not know us Let him produce as satisfactory
evidence of the doctrine of the trinity—the incarnation—transubstan^
liation and the rest, as we have for the resurrection of the dead ; and I
shall be eager to be the first to renounce Unitarianism, and I shall not
be alone.
1 am unwilling to extend this note much further, but after what 1
have said above, and comparing with it what Mr. K. says in p^ge 15,
1 am not without hope that we shall bring him over to our side. He
ha stated what he conceives to be Unitanan principles in the form of
a syllogism. We are not fond of syllogisms ; we have seen so much
fidse logic and nonsense imposed on the world this manner. How-
16
for the Lord There is indeed one text which, as it stands
in our received copies of the scriptures, has an appearance
of favouring the popular notion of a mystical religion. But
a critical examination of it dispels the illusion. 1 Tim. Hi. 16.
Without controversy great is the mystery of godliness,
God was manifest in the flesh, justified in the spirit, &c.^
ever, we are an easy sort of people, and are willing that others should
arrange their thoughts just as they please, provided they do it fairiy
and honestly. Mr K. assumes the Unitarian major to be^**The
scriptut es must have every where a consistent and intelligible mean¬
ing." He adds, If this major proposition be correct, Unítaríanism
triumphs : if false and groundless, Unitarianism must needs be crushed
iinder its ruins.*' f thought when I read this that he was prepared ta
prove the falsehood of the proposition. But to my utter surprise he
goes on to say, « if by the position - nothing more is meant, than, that
God in the scriptures is to speak to men after such a manner, and tn
such language J to make them sufficiently understand what he ha^ ft'
vealedy and what they are to believe, without however giving them A
^ ri^ht to dive into the inti insic nature of the revelation ; after the same
manner as a servant has a right to know clearly the commands of his
master (as otherwise he could not comply with them) without having
a nght to know the reasons which his master may have to impose
them on him ; if 1 say no more is meant than this, the Unitarian will
speak p/oin good sense^ and the whole world will agree with him : fisr
it is obvious, that unless men have some idea of what God reveals,
they cuinot be bound to believe it " Here, then, the controversy may
end. For 1 declare with the utmost sincerity, that 1 desire to under¬
stand nothing more by << a consistent and intelligible meaning of reve¬
lation." 1 cannot answer for others ; but as far as 1 know, I believe
Unitarians mean nothing more when they contend for consistency and
intelli^bility. The major proposition therefore being correct, and all
the world agreeing with us, in the reasonableness of our o|nnion, Mr*
K. assures us that Unitarianism triumphs !" And he who set out
armed with philosophy and logic to refute our very fundamental pria*
ciples, has yielded the palm of victory to us, and acknowledged that
we are irrefutable ! ! The syllogbm, however, ought to stand thus :
Major, The scriptures must have a consistent and intelligible
meaning.
Minor, But they no where intelligibly teach the doctrine of the
Trinity, &c. &c.
Conclusion. Therefore these doctrines are not to be believed.
GresbacH* other eraînent sc'^olar?^ have satisfactorily
shown th ' the true reading of this passage is "be who was
1) anifeste ! ii the flesh.'' Greek ôs instead of ©<0^9 God. This
reading is supported by the Alexandrine, and Ephrem MSS.
both of which are of the most ancient class of manuscripts,
and of the highest authority. The alteration of bnly two
Ch-eek letters has changed the reading to God, and given
the text all its importance in the Trinitarian controversy.
And this alteration was not made very early, for " all the
old versions" say-s Dr. Clarke, " have who or which. And
all the ancient fathers, though the copies of many of them
have it now in the text itself (©fof) God : yet from the tenor
of their comments on it, and from their never citing it in the
Arian coniroversy, it appears tiiey always read it (w) who
or (*o) which."
The apostle in this passage, as elsewhere, seems tobe allud¬
ing to the boasted mysteries of the learned Greeks, and extol¬
ling the gospel of Christ for its infinite superiority, and glory¬
ing in its success. It may be read and paraphrased thus: " great
is the mystery of godliness," we christians have reason to
glory in our profession, for he who was manifested in the
flesh," our master, who was a real human being and not a
mere phantom as the docette taught, notwithstanding all the
weakness and infirmity of mortality, was "justified by the
spirit;" his divine mission was attested by miraculous proofs;
he was " seen by his messengers" the apostles, whom he chose
and to whom he personally communicated the doctrine which
they " preached to the Gentiles this heavenly instruction
has been "believed m the world," and has obtained and is
still obtaining " a glorious reception." How plain and in¬
telligible is this ! Every thing taught by the apostles, and
every thing transacted by them in the churches, had a plain¬
ness and significancy, that commended itself to the under¬
standings and consciences of men. But there soon arose a
race of teachers who were fond of representing the doctrines
and ordinances of Christianity as profound mysteries. Es¬
pecially, the Lord's Supper was invested with peculiar sanc-
3
18
é
tity, Tliey cUvicief] tlic disciples into classes according to
their imagined rank or standing in the church5 they were
catechumens, initiated, penitents, &c. Chrysostom in one
of his homilies.say s We shut the doors when we celebrate
our mysteries, and exclude the uninitiated." In some of the
churches, during the second and third centuries, before the
celebration of the Kucharist, the deacons used to cry out in
the congregation Go out all you catechumens* Walk out
all that are not initiated." This was a very exact imibition
of the heathen-'^practice in celebrating their mysteries.* As
these measures conferred a venerable and mysterious solem«
iiity on the doctrine, the churches, and the clergy, the evilj
increased from age to age, till the enormous fabric of super¬
stition was completed, and cemented by alliance with the
civil power, and protected by the terrors of persecution.
4
It is time that these things were laid aside ; and that
pure religion with unveiled face, and holding the torch of
truth in her h^pcí should (like wisdom personified in the
Book of Proverbs) cry aloud in the highest places of the city,
Come eat of my bread, and drink of the wine that I have
mingled. Forsake the foolish and live, and go in the way of
understanding." The advocates for mystery, with apparent
exultation in their own penetration, and astonishment at our
stupidity, refer us to the unexplained phenomena of human
life, and muscular motion ; to the growth and combinations
of vegetable and animal matter* They ask us to explmn
how it is that an act of volition enables us to lift our arm, or
4
raise our eyes : how it is that fluids are converted intovcge^
table and animal forms ; and what disposes the particles of
matter to arrange themselves so diflerently, as to produce
such an infinite variety of shapes, colours, odours, and other
attributes ? And if we confess our ignorance, we are then
asked, why we refuse our assent to their mysterious doctrine
about the divine nature ? I answer, we do so for the very
«
• P: ocul O ! Procul este profani
Conclamat vates, totoque absistite luco.
s
19
é
sftme reason which would justify us in rejecting any lame^
confused, and unsupported hypothesis which they might
chuse to suggest to unravel the hidden operations of nature*
They know nothing about the matter any more than our¬
selves, except the facts that animals exist, have muscular
motion and nervous irritability, and that certain effects uni¬
formly follow from certain causes. The mode, the where¬
fore, are hidden from our view, and therefore belong neither
to our knowledge nor our faith. Nor has our reasoning
any tendency, as they affirm, to Atheism. For the grand
truth of the existence and perfection of the Great First
Cause, stands upon very different ground from their vain rea¬
sonings about his essence; of which we know nothing.
I
In the prophetic book of Revelation, there is an emblem¬
atical representation of the apostate, persecuting christian
church, which was predicted to arise after the apostles' time.
« The woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet colour, and
decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, having a
golden cup full of abominations in her hand ; and upon her
FOREHEAD WAS A NAME WRITTEN—MYSTERY ! RcV.
xvii. 4,5.
*
If any church can be found whose chief characteristics
are outward splendour, joined with mysterious services, and
inexplicable doctrines, surely none who make a proper use
of their understanding can mistake her for a truly apostolical
»
church. The apostle gloried in not having a veil over his
face like Moses ; but by manifestation of the truth he com¬
mended himself to every man's conscience, as in the sight
of God.*
* One word hel*e to our good friends of the Protestant Episcopal
ftnd Presbyterian ehurches, for many of whom I entertain a very high
esteem. Is it not surprising afte^ they have been for ages declaiming
against the monstrous corruptions of the Roman 1 atholic church, and
believe it to constitute the great apostacy f om the t)ue faith which
Paul so clearly predicted ; that they do not see that their own system
20
Û, ÏVic simplicity and reasoTtableness of chrístianitify a»
opposed to evei-y thing mystical and uniutelligibley render
it the more adapted for universal disseminatim and influence^
The most tender capacity can understand its doctrines and
. preccpts-^and tlie poorest can, without diâlculty, practice all
its requirements.
*
0
Priestcraft and mystery enslave and blind tlie hamaii
understanding, and by their odious tyranny, give a moment
tary triumph to irreligion and infidelity. But the unadorned
beauty of the christian profession, when free from these un¬
natural and meretricious associates, will silence objectors,
fascinate every unsophisticated mind, and prove itself fiiend«
ly to every thing great and noble among men—»the patroness
of liberty, science, and virtue.
We cannot but feel ourselves elevated, in being the
advocates of such a cause, and exult in anticipating the day
when all the nations shall be fellow worshippers of the same
God, through the same Mediator, and be partakers of his
promise in Christ, through the gospel." Truth has given
many sacred pledges of her future and universal triumphs»
of faith is substantially the same ? Every doctrine they now contend
for so violently, they received from the Catholic church. They have
rejected some of its mysteries, but th^ hold the greater part. Letthem
read Mr. Kot^]man*s Book, it will do them good. He will peihs^
tell them in some future number, as Dr. Fletcher has done before him.
As a Catholie, 1 certainly do reprobate and abhor the whole system'
of Unitarianism But were 1 a Protestant, 1 seriously think I shoaU
be a Ufdtoiian ; because were 1 to admit the Protestant principle, thab
my reason is the sole arbiter of my &ith, I think as a canHstefU Pro¬
testant 1 ought also to admit its consequences— I would not respect
one mystery and insult another, disbelieve one tenet because H is iib
comprehensible,«and porfess another which is justas umnteHi^Ue»'*
Fïeicher^^i Spirit of HeHgious Controrttrsy^ ^
It is a truth, in whatever light it mav now appear to thmsdres^that
to he consistent, they must either go back to the Catholics or com«
over to us.
I
21
»
In her occasional manifestations to men, she has never been
armed with the sword, or enveloped in the helmet and cui-
lass. She asks not the sàd of armies^ nor glories in the war*
rior^s garments rolled ^n blood.^ ^e has bnilt no dungeons
though she has inhabited manj. She reared not the horrid
towers of the inquisition; norsou^t support from the hellish
malignity and craft, which with the name and semblance of
religion, absorbed the wealth and drank the vital blood of its
victims. She seeks not for the edicts of kings or acts of Par¬
liament to give her weight and victory. Her cmiquests are
like those of day over darkness silent, mild, progressive,
and invincible;—seen,felt,and rejoiced in,,before the means
by which they are accomplished are understood.
There was once a long, dark, cold night of ignorance,
and the reign of priestcraft over the fairest portions of the
earth, in which the voice of truth was scarcely heard ; or if
heard, was silenced by resistless power : racks, gibbets, and
the fire, kept all things quiet.* That deep shade has passed
* Mr. Kohlmann affirms, page 40, that it is by mysteries God has
fixed the faith of his people, and sheltered it from the attempts of a
restless and ever varying philosophy." Mysteries were necessary
to impose silence on that proud and restless reason, and to make it
submit to the yoke of faith."
If this were the object of Chrisianity, it must be confessed that it
has been singularly rmfortunate and unsuccessful. For instead of si¬
lencing the curiosity of the human mind, or producing universal ac¬
quiescence in every set of theological speculations, it has every where
provoked discussion, and produced difierence of opinion In no former
period of the world were mens' minds so agitated with controversy, or
reason at work with such restless importunity to discover the grounds
of virtue and truth. Unitarians do not lammt over this as an evil.
They agree with one who says « The wildest storm that ever lashed the
ocean into rage, and spi ead with wrecks and desolation all the shore,
is preferable to that lifeless calm which would convert the woild of
waters into a stagnant and puttid lake, the awful source of universal
pestilence and death.' Experience has pru\'ed, that in thoee ages and
nations where free inquiry has been suppressed, and uniformity of re^
2i2
away ; the day has broken that will never close ; the san has
risen that will never set. Truth is marching onward from
conquest to conquest. Even the advocates for aosolute au¬
thority, and the deniers of the right of private judgment, are
obliged to reason and persuade. They have no other weapon
left; and this from want of use and other disadvantages,
will not long maintain a system of mysticism which is rapidly
crumbling into ruin : the age of knowledge, truth, and huma¬
nity, will supercede that of legendary lore and priestly do¬
mination over the consciences and understandings of nien.
ligious faith imposed by the strong hand of despotism, there every
thing that exalts and ennobles the human imnd and character, has
dwindled away. Great improvements in science, and the ciicubtion
of general knowledge, cannot exist in such an order of thin^ Igoo*
ranee and abject servility among the poor, and imposture and oppres*
sionamongthe higher ranks, arenecessary concomitants ofsuch a state.
We rejoice in being blessed with the greatest measure of rivO and reK-
^us lihorty, that a nation ever enjoyed : and we mean to sheVr cor
esteem of it, and gratitude for it, by refusing to submit oui* consdenets
and judgments to the decision o^^ any man, or set of men, whatever
pretensions to infallihlity they may make, until they can shew us thdr
authority from the skies, to claim our obedience. Jesus and his apos¬
tles have not required of us the belief of any thing we cannot under-
- stand; and whatever oracles others may chuse to Ksten to; *'Tous
there is one God, the Father, of whom are all things, (by his all creating
power) and we for him; and one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are aD
things, (communicated from God to us and we by him,^ inherit the
blessings of salvation. 1 Cor. viii. 6. To God, even the Father, be
glory, through him, ascribed for ever and ever. Amen.
PROPOSAL
For publishing by Subscripttonf
A SUPPLEMENTAUY SELECTION OF
HYMNS,
FOR THE USE OF THE
UNITARIA CHURCH
AT WASHINGTON.
THIS new Selection is intended to contain at least one
hundred Hymns, which being bound up with the part alrea¬
dy in use, will constitute the complete Hymn Book for the
permanent use of the Society. Those who have already pur¬
chased, or who may previously purchase the part now in use,
will be entitled to the additional Hymns for twenty-five
cents. '
The whole book will be One Dollar in Boards.
Societies at a distance, who may wish to adopt this se^
lection, may have a quantity on reasonable terms.
ICIT" The additional Hymns will not be sold separately^
except to those who have purchased the first part—and who
are respectfully invited to subscribe for them immediately at
either VV. Cooper's or P. Thompson's store, as no more extra
copies will be printed for that purpose than may be previous¬
ly engaged.
THE
UNITARIAN MISCELLANY
AND
CHRISTIAN MONITOR.
IT is the object of this work to set forth the doctrines,
and inculcate the truths of the Christian Religion, as they
are usually understood by Unitarians.
it is published monthly, in Baltimore, by the Baltimore
Unitarian Book Society. Annual subscription, one dollar and
ßfty cents.
Ten numbers of the above work are already published,
and may be had of W. Cooper or P. Thompson, by whom
subscriptions are received.
October y 1821.
In compliance with the solicitations of a consiilera-
l>le number of my auditore, members of congress, and
« ♦
members of the society over which I preside, tbe
following sermon is now submitted to» the publick
judgment. I am aware that in perusal it will be found
to contain less that is deserving of such a distinc¬
tion, than what the momentary impressions of the
hearers might seem to warrant. It appeai-s never¬
theless necessary to print it, inasmuch as it has unin¬
tentionally given oiFence to some, whose state of feel¬
ing at the time has, I fear, prevented them from right¬
ly understanding, or distinctly recollecting the train
of reasoning pursued by the preacher. F or any er-
jors of composition, I beg that indulgence which the
considerate will readily grant to one who is only reco¬
vering slowly from a most severe and dangerous sick¬
ness, and is still incapable of sustaining much fatigue,
particularly that of writing, for which he is almost
wholly incompetent. To the same cause must be at¬
tributed the omission of some passages in delivery,
' which are here enclosed in brackets. For the senti¬
ments expressed, I ask nothing but a candid and fair
examination : as for the charge of unseasonableness
and impropriety of introducing such topicks at the
time and place, I have only to remark, that when those
of a contrary opinion cease from availing themselves
of every opportunity to revile the friends of free in¬
quiry, and to press their own peculiai' opinions as in-
iv
dispensably necessary^ this camplaint vdll deserve
more attention. For myself; I have no desire to
preach at any time; or in any place; where the grand
topicks; Religious Liberty and the Divine Unity; are
unwelcome.
If; in the discussion of these subjects; I have devi¬
ated from charity or courteousness in any instance, I
will; upon conviction, acknowledge and correct my
error at the earliest opportunity.
%
, RELIGIOUS LIBERTY AND UNITARIANISM
YlXmCATED.
t
Acts v. 38» 39.<—Rcfndn from these men and let them alone ; for if this
counsel or this work be of man, it will come to nought j but if it be of
God, ye cannot overthrow it.
Such was the advice of the Jewish Doctor, who was the tu-
tor of Saul of Tarsus. But the history of his pupiPs early life
shows that he was very far from adopting the liberal and pru¬
dent course of action thus recommended. On the contrary,
one of the first views we have of him in the scriptures, is con¬
senting to the death of Stephen, the leader of the glorious army
of Christian Martyrs, and holding the raiment of those who
were his immediate murderers. At a subsequent period we
find him breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the
disciples of the Lord. Whether Gamaliel had abandoned his
, liberal sentiments and adopted the system of persecution as
better suited to the exigency of Jewish afiairs, I know not :
but there was certainly something in the rise and progress of
Christianity exceedingly calculated to rouse the anger and re¬
sentment of those whose education and interests attached
«
them to the existing condition of the nation. A person of ob¬
scure and mean parentage, and a native of a part of the coun¬
try least in repute for any thing good and great, had recently
appeared among them as a teacher and reformer of Religion.
It was well known that he had not received education from
I
the doctors of their law, and he ascribed all his wisdom to di-
«
rect communications from God. It was certain that he had
deeply and attentively studied the Hebrew Scriptures, «and
that all his instructions were in strict conformity to their spi->
v
6
rit and design. His life and manners were blameless, and his
preaching stngularlj powerful and impressive ; besidea which,
he constantly appealed to miraculour works which he perform¬
ed in proof of his divine mission, and insisted on the obliga¬
tion of his hearers to believe and to obey him, as the messenger
of Heaven. A marked difference was observed between the
manner of his instructions and that of others, for he spake as ono
who possessed authority over the consciences of his auditors.
Most severely did he reprobate the vices of the age, and parti¬
cularly those of the religious guides and rulers of the people. He
accused them of hypocrisy, selfishness, ignorance of the scrip¬
tures, tyranny, cruelty, sensuality, covetous^ess, ambition, and
many other vices. For this general corruption, he denounced
the approaching judgments of God upon the nation, and do-
♦
dared that the generation then existing would not be gone off
the stage, before Judea was desolated by wars and famine, and
Jerusalem trodden down of the gentiles. The common people^
for a while, heard him gladly, for tíiey are usually pleased with
V any thing that exposes their superiors to contempt : but when
they perceived that he had no design to gratify politicaV feel¬
ings, or party spirit ; that he had no worldly nor ambitious
project in view ; that his whole aim was to introduce greater
purity and simplidty of morals and religion, and that the bless¬
edness of virtue, and the joys of a future state of being, were
the only rewards he held out to his followers ; they were ea¬
sily turned round to the side of their governors, who denounced
him as a pestilent fellow, a deceiver, and an enemy to the
state.
The publick mind being sufficiently exasperated by these
charges, the chief priests and rulers felt themselves strong
enough to venture to seize on him, and through the forms of
law, violently strained to gratify their thirst for vengeance,
they procured his crucifixion. Here they, supposed the allege«!
delusion would end, and their own religious authority and
usages remain undisturbed. Never, however, were men more
áeceived in their calculations ; for in a few weeks a number
I
of his followers, who had been disconcerted ^d overw|ielmed
by the terrible circumstances of his death, re-appeared in pub-
1
tick, and boldly maintained that he had been chicified and siaih
by wicked hands, but that "God had raised him from fhe dead.
They affirmed that he was made Lord and Christ, and seti^
ottsly called upon the people to repent of what tiiey had done,
•and believe in him, that their awful sin in rejecting the Mes¬
siah might be blotted out. So strong was the impression of this
unexpected áppeal, that several thousands of the inhabitants
df Jerusalem acfbally submitted to the call, and became avow¬
edly the disciples of Jesus of Nazareth. These of CourSfe
werb in daily expectation of some awful impending judgment
to fall on fhein unhappy city, who had rejected and crucified
the sOn of God : therefore they were almost constantly together,
and continued in prayers and supplications, in acts of <wor-
ship and benevolence/ The apostles, emboldened by this suc¬
cess, and having subsequently confirmed their doctrine by a
'v^y remarkable miracle, proceeded still more urgently to
press upon the people and the rulers of the Jews, the duty Of
acknowledging Jesus as their long expected Messiah, and
Submitting to be governed by his precepts. This not only ex¬
asperated the government, but excited serious apprehensions
ofWhat would be the result. They therefore put tiie apostles
into custody, and having arraigned them, and attempted to ter¬
rify tiiem into silence, *'tiiey commanded them not to speak
at all, nor teach in the name of Jesus." The reply of Peter
mid John is remarkable for its intrepidity, unwavering fidelity,
and artless piety. " Whetiier it be right before God, to heark¬
en unto you more than God, judge ye. For we cannot but
speak the things which we have seen and heard." Having
obtained personal liberty, we cannot be surprised to read after¬
wards that with such feelings as they had, " they ceased not to
- teach and to preach the good news, that Jesus was the Christ."
The high priest and the Sanhedrim, became greatly alarm¬
ed : they saw that' if this thing grew much fartiièr, they
should be viewed with execration as the murderers of Jesus,
and must probably fall a sacrifice to a popular insurrection.
They therefore took counsel how they might kill these men ;
but Gamaliel, one of their number, sagaciously recommended
a more cautious and prudent policy. If they proceeded now
8
to lextremities, it would be hazanfing everj thing on one caat
of the die ; time might put a new face upon the affur. Their
experience might teach them that no imposition of tiiis sort
could be permanent ; but if the apostíes were right» force» howr
ever violent, would not suppress the cause in which'they were
engaged.
To this moderate counsel they for the present so far agreed
as to let off the apostles with a beating, after the Jewish man*
ner of punishing slight offences against the publick peace :
and they departed from the Sanhedrim» not cast down and
discouraged» but rejoicing that they were counted worthy to
bear shame and stripes for the sake of their beloved master*
What was it that rendered the progress of Christianity so
much an object of terror to the Jewish rulers» and its sup¬
pression so desirable ? Christ and his apostles taught nothing
injurious to Ihe interests of individuals or society. They did
not inculcate revenge, insubordination, or licentiousness* On
the contrary, they insisted on the necessity of humility, pa¬
tience, self-denial,, and heavenly-mindedness. So far yr&rt
they from encouraging ambitious and aspiring demagogues to
join their ranks, in hope of supplanting the present possessors
of power ; they denounced all such feelings and hopes, as ut¬
terly at variance with the principles of true religion, and sub-
r
versive of the system they laboured /to establish. For their
and object was to turn men's attention to another world, ia
which they will be rewarded or punished according to their
conduct in this. The whole substance of Christianity is the
revelation of a future state, and the various moral truths de¬
pendent upon it. There was nothing, therefore, in the religion
-itself, to excite disgust or abhorrence. But the fact was, that
a previous system was established by law ; the ritual of Moses,
enlarged and probably corrupted by the traditions of the elders,
combined with various opinions and practices derived from the
Chaldean philosophy, with which the Jews had been infected
ever since the Babylonish captivity. The temporal interests
of the Scribes and Pharisees were inseparably connected with
this order of things. They were the expounders of the law,
♦
and religious leaders of the people. The simple truths taught
9
by Jesus and his apostles» in many respects» clashed with tlie
mystical and ceremonial theology supported by these publick
guides» and the prevalence of the new opinions would unques^
tionably produce a revolution» unfavourable to their influence
over the people, and manifest their ignorance oí those spiritual
and moral truths which could alone insure human happiness.
To uphold the declining credit of their ecclesiastical system,
the priest and scribes united all their strength in opposi¬
tion to the christian scheme ; and from their selfishness and
determined bigotry arose that sanguinary contest, which
brought at length confusion and ruin upon their unhappy coun¬
try and themselves.
The history of all national religious establishments is but a
repetition of the same intolerance and mischief. Founded iir
ages of comparative darkness, they have adopted for immuta¬
ble truths dogmas at which posterity will smile with contempt,
or from which they will revolt with disgust. The world moves
on ; science acquires fresh lights and progresses with increased
velocity ; every age advances in discoveries of important facts
and principles, which in their results change the state and re¬
lations of society : but an established religion admits of no im¬
provement ; it stands venei^able by its antiquity, bearing thé
deep furrows of age on its front, and having no sympathy or
congeniality with the manners and sentiments of an advanced
period of the world. It sternly frowns on every effort to under¬
stand truth and duty better than our forefathers did. Professor
Ougald Stewart has a beautiful passage on this subject. "Were
it not," says he, " for a certain class of learned authors, who
from time to time, heave the log into the deep, we should hard¬
ly believe that the reason of the species is progressive. In
this respect, the religious and academical establishments in
some parts of Europe, are not without their use to the histo-
rian of the human mind. Immovably moored to the same sta¬
tion by the strength of their cables, anU the weight of their
anchors, tliey enable him to measure the rapidity of the cur¬
rent by which the rest of the world are borne along." ^
But such stability as admits of no modification or improve¬
ment, whether it be in a theological creed, or a political çon-
10
stitution, is inconsistent with human nature', which is mani-
festlj designed for perpetual growth, and advances from age
to age to new positions in the moral and intellectual world.
Attempts to restrain or limit enquiry within the bounds of
ancient prejudices, are like binding the sleeping Sampson with
green withes ; the waking giant will burst the despicable bands,
" as a thread of tow is broken when it toucheth the fire."
I see before me many amongst whom I esteem it an honour '
to rank as an advocate, however feeble, of free inquiry in reli¬
gion, and a rational faith.
On this account we are calumniated as infidels, and denoun¬
ced as unworthy the christian name. Is it believed, then, that
our religion will not bear examination ? Or, that the genuine
doctrines of Christ are contrary to reason ? Such is not the
opinion of Unitarian Christians. We believe the system, as
taught by our great Master and his apostles, to be sublimely
simple, adapted for general conviction, as it was intended for
the universal benefit of mankind. Are we then justly consi¬
dered the enemies of truth and goodness, because we desire
to free this divine religion from the corruptions and supersti¬
tions, that have gathered round it in dark and credulous ages ?
No ; let us clear away these parasitical plants, the noble tree
will flourish with greater beauty, and bear, as at first, morb
abundant and richer fruit : let us remove those meretricious
ornaments with which bad taste, or bad intention, have i^or-
antly or impiously closed the venerable pile ; and the sacred
temple of Christianity will once more stand " majestic in its
own simplicity," the admiration of ages, and the praise of its
Divine Architect.
I purpose in the remainder of this discourse to show,
1. The advantages our system possesses in this country
from the absence of a national religipn.
2. The impossibility of our opponents overthrowing tkat
cause in which we are embarked.
We have no system of religious doctrine or worship, estab¬
lished by law, and its professors paid by the state for teaching
it. The nations of Europe pay yearly many millions to main¬
tain such establishment^, and it is contended that the money
11
}
is well spent; without it, it is said that irreligion and immorality
would deluge thé nations. Now it is a remerkable fact, that in
England, where the greatest existing degree of toleration is '
nudntained contemporaneously with the most expensive reli¬
gious establishment in the world, the majority of her religious
inhabitants refuse to commune with the established churchy
and although obliged to bear their share of the expense of the
national priesthood, prefer to assume an additional burden of
supporting a reli^on of their own choice, and better adapted
(as they suppose) to the purposes of that divine institution.
On the European continent, where the Catholic establishments
prevail, there being less toleration and less of impartial inqui-
17, the religion of the state has the scarcely disguised con¬
tempt of the enlightened part of the community, and its minis¬
ters and services are a butt for the sarcastic ridicule of the
, profane. Wherefore then serve religious establishments ?
They are said to strengthen and give stability to the thrones
of monarchs ; and they provide means of support for the weak¬
er branches of an indigent aristocracy. Thanks be to heaven,
that we have here neither a throne to support, nor an aristocf'a'-
cy to provide for. The only purposes required of religion in
this free country, are to make her citizens wiser and better,
for their own present good, and future salvation. Has the ab¬
solute refusal of our legislators to interfere with matters of reli¬
gion been attended with those demoralizing effects which the
advocates for establishments predicted ? Let the event show.
In no country in the world have reliions sects increased more
rapidly, nor temples for worship sprung up in greater number,
in a given space of time. And, what is of greater importance,
they have increased without feuds and violence detrimental to
the publick peace, and injurious to the cause of liberty. As for
those verbal controversies between differing sects, which some
affect so much to dislike and condemn, they afford the most
harmless and useful exercise for the human mind. They of¬
ten elicit truth ; they illustrate the stretigth and the weakness
of tlie human understanding; they disperse the phantoms which
superstition engendered in the quietness of religious usurpation :
\ 4
12^
like the kindly gales of the rising and falling year, ^ey dispel
the dank unwholesotne vapours which hover over the enchant"
ed regions -of ignorance and credulity.
Besides, if there be any venom in religious controversy, it id
neutralized by perfect reli^ous liberty. Whatever may be the'
confidence of any party, in the truth of its opinions, and the
exclusive wisdom of its institotions ; it has no power to obtrude
or impose them upon others, beyond the influence which ra-*
tional allument will lend to their cause. Even those who de¬
nounce the use of reason as impious, when presuming to judge
of the doctrines of revealed religion, are obliged themselves to
reason, if tiiey desire to defend or extend their opinions. Every
one is reluctant to take any thing upon trust, especially in an
affair of the immense importance of that which relates to
acceptance with God, and the happiness of a future state of
being.
' But even if we should be obliged to admit that the perfect
religious freedom of this country were accompanied with a
blameable spirit of indifference to the subject altogether, and
perhaps this may be true of many individuals; still we be¬
lieve it to be more favorable to the ultimate üíumphs of truth
than a contrary state of things. For he who is indifferent
may be more readily swayed by a candid and persuasive re¬
presentation of the truth, than he who by previous erroneous
impressions is strongly prejudiced against it. In fact we only
ask for that indifferency of mind that may insure an impartial
judgment, to render the progress of our sentiments secure.
What has produced the indifference complained of? Shall we
attribute it to liberty ; or rather to the repulsive forms in which
religion has been ordinarily presented to view? If, as we
have recently been told, the fundamental dogma of the ehrís-
fian religion is originalsiUy I am not surprised at the utter in¬
difference of considerate men about the whole mattér. The
doctrine of original sin is, that all mankind fell by Adam's
first transgression into a state of sin and misery, so that tiieir
.
^Vhole nature is corrupt, nor can they do any thing that is not
sinful in consequence of this totally corrupt and depraved
13
state, they are under condemnation from God, and liable to
the pains of hell for ever.
If this doctrine be true, the less any man thinks about it the
better. For as he can do nothing to please God, nor to escape
damnation, the natural course for him is to enjoy what little he
can of this present life, and resign himself to his inevitable
. fate. But the truth is, no wise man believes any thing of the
kind ; and multitudes hearing such notions, delivered with the
solemn gravity of assumed infallibility, from the pulpit, as the
oracles of God, turn awaj with contempt, and think on the
subject no longer.
Happily in this country, no man to qualify himself for of¬
fices of trust and profit, or to obtain respect in the higher
ranks of society, is obliged to profess at least, to believe that
he is naturally and radically corrupt, destitute of virtuous
principle, and an heir of damnation. If any choose to think
tiius of themselves, we may admire their humility, pity their
mistake, but rejoice that in most instances their practical con¬
duct is a refutation of their creed.
Under these circumstances, Unitarianism has made its pub-
tick appearance in this land with singular advantages. It an-^
nounces no mysteries, it promulgates no paradoxes, it requires
no prostration of the understanding at the shrine of implicit
faith. It invites examination, it appeals to reason, to na¬
ture, and to scripture, for its truth. It has an advocate in the
breast of every man who is accustomed to listen with respect to
diese authorities. Whatever may have been the obliquities of
his early education, his heart assures him that there is a God of
infinite and undivided perfections, and that there can only be
one such. Even the pious and sensible Trinitarian is perplex¬
ed and embaiTassed, when in obedience to a creed that he dare
not reject, he attempts understandingly to worship a three¬
fold Deity. Much as he conscientiously dreads the idea of
degrading his Saviour, he often feels the impossibility of keep-
ing up in his mind the persuasion, that a person who was
bom, grew, was subject to infirmity, and died, could be
really and essentially the same as ífíe-Eternal and Ever-living
Father. Our system relieves his distress; not by mere rea-
14
soning» nor by impressive appeals to the light of nature only :
we take the scriptures that he reveres, tiié bible that he has
been accustomed to venerate as the .word of God; and we
show him that this book, perverted, mangled and misinter¬
preted as it has been, does not teach the doctrines from which
his reason revolts. Our belief in all its points, can be ex¬
pressed in the very words of the sacred writers, without tor-
ture, ambiguity, or paraphrase. We want no other creed or
confession of faith than what we find in the new testament.
No Trinitarian can truly affirm this. Where will he find his
favorite phrases, " God the Son,'' and " God the Holy Ghost,"
^ three persons and one God?" These are not to be found in
the bible, nor the ideas conveyed by them. We are satisfied
with the doctrine of Paul, ** There is one God, and one Me¬
diator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus."
Besides, the character of that One, undivided Being, whom^
we worship, is calculated to excite the veneration and love of
every truly serious and intelligent mind. He is essentially
good and benevolent, desiring and seeking the happiness of
his creatures, imposing no harsh* unnecessaiy restrsdnts upon
them, nor condemning them for faults committed by another,
and before they were born ; he punishes, but it is for their <nm
sins, and in order to correct them, that they may eventually
be saved. He knows their frailty, pities their weakness, and
is willing to receive and pardon every repenting and returning
sinner. He has graciously provided means for their renova¬
tion, and promises to tiiem eternal life beyond the grave, of his
own free and unbought mercy. But the keys of this heavenly
kingdom he has not committed to any church or priest : no
rites, ceremonies, or external services can insure it; no sudden
change or absolution conduct to it. True repentance and
amendment of life, are the indispensable conditions of admit¬
tance there. Where there is no established creed and profes¬
sion, such doctrines will commend themselves to men's con¬
sciences and gain ground. Prejudice will struggle awhile
against unwelcome truths, but the weight of evidence that at¬
tends them will in time procure them general acceptance and
success.
15
4
»
' Whosoever would rightly estimate the tendencies and effects
of national religions upon the progress of truth, should never
forget die Holy Offices (Inquisition) in Spain and Portugal,
where impaled and burning victims of superstition but served
to amuse the wretched ignorance and fatuity of bigotted roy¬
alty : let him remember the cruel and cowardly massacre of
the Protestants of France under Charles the Ninth : the Eng¬
lish act of uniformity which consigned 2000 of the best of men
to degradation and poverty, and some of them to imprisonment
and death : the revocation of the Edict of Nantes by the faith¬
less Louis, which dispersed as vagrants the most virtuous and
most industrious of his subjects, to wander as exiles in foreign
lands : in fine, let him keep in mind the numerous oppres¬
sions, and daring impiety of a pampered clergy in every part of
Europe, who have prostituted the most sacred names and so¬
lemn lites, to please some princely debauchee, and to rivet
more strongly the chains of a deluded, superstitious and en¬
slaved people. These are the trophies of established reli- *
gions, these the memorials by ^hich their history shall be em¬
blazoned through all succeeding generations. From such re¬
collections, may the people of this happy country learn to
"stand fast in that liberty wherewith 6od in his mercy has
made them free."
One of the greatest blessings secured by its excellent con¬
stitution, is contained in the article which says " Congress
shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or
prohibiting the free exercise thereof." If our ancestors in Eu¬
rope had adopted such a fundamental law ten centuries ago,
millions of lives, sacrificed to the blind demon Bigotry, would
have been saved, and incalculable human sufferings prevented.
Secondly, Let us glance at the security we feel that our op¬
ponents cannot overthrow the cause in which we are em¬
barked.
We regret that any should be so mistaken as to wish it
overthrown, for it is identical with the cause of liberty and
truth. We only plead for the natural unalienable right of
every human being to judge for himself, in a concern of infi¬
nite importance to himself. Free and impartial investigation
16.
is surely the most likely ivay to arrive at satisfaction and cer¬
tainty» in matters confessedly difficult. And why should
firemen who have renounced the slavish political doctrines by
which nations have been held in a state of Childhood and bon¬
dage, for successive generations, content themselves with fol¬
lowing in religious opinions, the weak and inconclusive rea¬
sonings of a credulous and superstitious age, whose mystical
speculations have deformed and obscured the fair features of
Christianity ? Let but the understandings of men be Ctirly and
rationally appealed to, and our system cannot be overthrown,
for nothing can be more reasmabU than tiie leading, funda¬
mental truth we contend for. God is one—One person or be¬
ing. Trinitarians sometimes attempt to qualify their inexpli¬
cable notion of a threefold distinction in the Deity, which all
their creeds define to consist of three persons^ by objecting to
the use of the word person, or at least to its use in the accus¬
tomed sense. Yet the word is of their own selection, and
whatever difficulty they find in maintaining its correctness,
they will not or cannot substitute any other which will express
their meaning. For ourselves we have no objection, nor hesi¬
tation, in respect to the word person as applicable to the Su*
preme First Cause: Forif person mean an individual, distinct,
intelligent agent, such we believe God to be. 'Every argument
that proves his existence, proves his personality. But then
we know but of one such perscm. In this case the word being
is synonimous with the word person. And no one will doubt
that by the phrase the Divine Beings we mean God. But if
there be three persons, each of whom is à Divine Being, then
there are three Gods ; and thus we are landed in Polytheism
again, by that very system which professed to deliver the
world from " Gods many and Lords many."
»
What can overthrow that which recommends itself to the un¬
derstanding and plain good sense of mankind in general, as
rational and true P This is not the age in which seraphick doc¬
tors, and sublime theolo^ans, with ponderous folios, can awe
the inquisitive mind into submission to their incomprehensible
reasonings and infallible decisions. Mere words will have but
little weight with the publick opinion : it is not their length or
number that will turn the scale ; the evidence of their truth
«
îdone will enable them to pass current long. He who will at-
tempt to prove that there are more Gods than one, must first
persuade men to renounce the evidence that the whole crea¬
tion gives, of the unity and supremacy of the great first cause,
to lay prostrate that reason which God gave him for the regu¬
lation of his thoughts, at the footstool of arbitrary authority and
implicit faith. The progress of knowledge, the extension of
education, insure the success pf our cause. Those who predict
its overthrow as if it were analogous to those fanatical opi¬
nions» which have had an ephemeral existence in various pla¬
ces and age^, and have expired with their first promoters, are
not aware that the light which extinguished them, gives
strength and solidity to our system : it is in alliance with
knowledge ; it would require the return of the dark and barba¬
rous ages of the world, to make men forget or renounce it.
It cannot be overthrown, for it is scriptural. Since the days
of Chillingworth, his celebrated saying has acquired the repu¬
tation of an axiom in theology : " The bible, the bible, is the re¬
ligion of protestants." If modern protestants will be consist¬
ent they cannot refuse this appeal : Will they pretend that
Moses taught otherwise than the simple unity of the divine
nature ? " Hear, 0 Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord."
" Thou shalt have no other God before me." Efforts indeed
have been made by a grammatical quibble to support the tri-
nitarian hypotheses from his writings. But the scheme, though
once ingeniously argued by the Hutchinsonian school, is utter¬
ly destitute of probability, and depends on a misconception of
the structure and idiom of the Hebrew tongue. The word
which our translators usually render God, has a plural termi¬
nation. They derived it from a root which signifies a curse or
oath, and contended that it designated, the Gods, or persons
confederated by oath for the creation and redemption of the
world. This refined polytheism very readily accommodated
itself to the prevailing notion of a covenant of grace between
the persons of the Trinity before the world began. But the
truth is, that the plural termination of a noun in Hebrew is not
sufficient proof of its plural signification. It is one mode of
3
18
^ expressing in that language eminence or dignity. Accordingly
vre find words in the Hebrew scriptures corresponding with
creators, husbands» wisdoms» &c.; whilst it is obvions ^t
only the singular number can be intended.
One incontrovertible fact is a sufficient réfutation of such
«
vain reasoning. No Jew» while he continued such, has ever
admitted this interpietation of his great Law^ver's language.
The national and individual frith of that people has ever tena¬
ciously maintained the simple uncompounded and indivisible
Unity of the Divine Being. Surely if it had been the intention
of Moses to teach any otherwise, we should have heajrd at
least of one sect who had hit upon his true meaning, and con¬
tended for something different from the national Unitarianism.
But no such instance occurs in their history. The only
advocates for a plurality of objects of religious worship ammig
them, were those idolatrous traitors to Israel's Gk>d» whom
the law of Moses condemned to death.
»
If we proceed to the prophetical writings, we shall find the
Unity of God a constant theme : the highest beauties of poet¬
ry, the most persuasive strains of eloquence, are poured out
profusely on this topick. The confident language of predic¬
tion anticipates the period, when not only One supreme Ruler
should be acknowledged in all the earth, but moreover thathis^
Name would be One. In what passage will a Trinitarian dis¬
cover that the name of the Christian's God should be Three¬
fold P Zech, xiv. 9. .
Is there any thing equivocal in the lofty and sublime lan¬
guage of Isaiah ? " Thus saith the Lord of Hosts, the King of
Israel, I am the first and the last ; and beside me there is no
God. Is there a God beside me i yea, there is no God, I
know not any"—Isa, xliv. 6, 8.
" To whom then will ye liken me, or shall I be equal ? saith
the Holy One."—^xl- 25.
But may not the New Testament have so explained and
modified the Unitarianism of Moses and the Prophets as to
render it consistent with the plurality contended for by Trin¬
itarians ? Attend to the following facts :—^Jesus uniformly
spake of himself as the Servant, Son, and Worshipper of the
19
•
Father, tirhom he calls the Gk>d of the Jews, and the only true
God : by him he was taught what he should say, and what he
should speak—of himself he could do nothing : and when
arisen from the dead, " I ascend," said he, " to my Father and
your Father, to my God and your God."
Neither of the Evangelists, in recording his history, has
said any thing implying a dignity greater than that of being
the commissioned messenger of the Most High, to instruct
and save mankind. Even after his ascension, Peter, in claim¬
ing from the Jews the honour due to his exalted master, de¬
scribes him as " a man approved (or attested) of God by mira¬
cles, and wonders, and signs, which God did by him."
The great apostle of the gentiles, who certainly would not
mislead them as to the object of worship, says, "To us, (chris¬
tians) there is but one God even the Father." Whatever may
be pretended, it is certain that no teacher of the modern tri-
nitárian systems would express himself on these subjects in the
unguarded manner of the sacred writers.
Some few texts are alleged against us. Texts of doubtful
meaning, or doubtful authority. Are these to determine us in
opposition to the plain, unforced and current testimony of the
holy books ? That were to reverse the important rule, of inter¬
preting things dark and difficult in consistency with those
which are clear and obvious.
Besides, critical examination and learned researches are con¬
tinually clearing away these difficulties, and brightening up the
evidence of the reasonableftess and consistency of the genuine
scripture. Every satisfactory investigation of the most an¬
cient manuscripts has hitherto resulted in diminishing the
props of the prevailing theology, and adding strength to Uni¬
tarian Christianity.
But the manifest utility of our labours in this cause, insures
its success. If the scheme we oppose were a mere influential
theory, however erroneous, it were of less consequence to con¬
trovert it. It really has many mischievous tendencies and ef¬
fects ; it gives a false and discouraging view of the character
of God ; it fills the mind with confusion, and distracts the
most serious worshipper in his approaches to the throne of
\
20
grace ; it spreads a gloomy austerity over the whole system of
personal and social piety, with which it is generally connect¬
ed ; and whether necessarily or not, it has in fact been usually
associated with intolerance, malignity, and persecution, as its
whole history, from the council of Nice to the present day, de¬
monstrates. We wish to see it supplanted by a system which
is agreeable to the primitive instructions of Jesus and his apos¬
tles, which violates no correct principles of reasoning or mo¬
rality, and which, being compatible with man's* present condi¬
tion, is capable of rendering the duties of religion delightful
in their performance, and salutary in their influence on the
temper and conduct of its votaries. Men will not always,
they will not long, remain insensible of the advantages of truth
and reason, over implicit faith and wild fanaticism.
We have thus shown tWt unitarian views of Christianity arc
rational, scriptural, and useful : the conclusion is inevitable,
that they are of God, and cannot be overthrown. To use the
language of a very eloquent advocate for our opinions—" The
sole object of our efforts is to remove the prejudices which ob¬
struct inquiry, and obtain full and candid examination. Let >
the evidences of Unitarianism be properly discussed, and its
friends have no apprehension as to the result. We have mighty
advocates, whose, voice is resistless. The mind of man pleads
for us ! left to itself, it rises indignant at creeds which fetter
the understanding and narrow the heart. The word of God
pleads for us ! it bears our sentiments on every page, and rarely
can it be perverted or tortured into the semblance of Trinitari-
anisra. The heavens and the earth plead for us ! wherever they
indicate design, it is benevolent design; and never has anyone
deduced from their appearances a plurality of creators. The
revelation of God, the reason of man, the constitution of nature,
with united voice proclaim these eternal truths : There is one
God ! and God is Love !"*
[In general reference to the topicks of this address, it is pre •
sumed that my hearers may justly be divided into two classes :
Reply to popular objections against Unitananism. A sennon preached
at Bristol, (England) in 1815, by W, J. Fox.
21
tíiosewho disapprove and condemn the principles I have aimed
to advancci and those who adopt and profess them. "To each
of these I would address a few words of serious exhortation.
1. Do you dislike our opinions, and hold them to be false and
dangerous ? Is this the result of your own patient and careful
examination of them? or did others tell you this P And had
those, who thus taught you, no personal interest at stake, that
might bias their judgment or mislead them in this respect ?
Be this as it may ; are you wise to suffer others to judge for you
,in a concern of this nature ? « Be not children, &c." Read
the scriptures for yourselves, and compare and judge* Say not,
we are incapable of judging in this matter, we have not sufficient
leisure, or sufficient learning. Yet, you esteem the Bible a re*
velation from heaved : but, according to this, it is a revelation
only to clergymen and linguists. Such was not the gospel of
Christ. To the poor, that gospel was first preached ; and by
them, it was comprehended, believed, and obeyed. They re¬
ceived it, he says, " in an honest and good heart," understand¬
ing it. [[comp. Luke 8, and Matt. 13.]]
If doctrines are taught, as essential to salvation, which the
simple cannot understand and the honest cannot believe ; such,
I repeat, are not the doctrines of Christ. You believe in the
efficacy of prayer^ and reproach us for our supposed want of
humility and sense of dependence upon God. We, therefore,
exhort you to pray to that pure fountain of light, in whom is no
darkness at all, that he would deliver your minds from preju¬
dice and passion, when you attempt to examine the scripture
testimony on the subjects about which we differ. Do not wish
any thing to be true, which cannot prove itself to be so, by its
own proper evidence. Your anathematizing us, and being
angry, proves nothing except the weakness of your cause, or
r your incompetency to defend it. Let your researches after
truth be sincere, humble, patient, and impartial ; without arroi
>
gant censures and rash judgment ; and although they should
lead to conviction different from ours, we shall respect thé
manly freedom of your enquiries, and revere the piety that
governs your faith. If it be otherwise with you, your heat
cannot make truth'falsehood, nor your obstinacy convert error
into tnifh. At all étéñts, rámember, in tfie language of the
jpoûà Wattä, that
« Consciences and souls nréfe made
To bè the Lord's alone."
i)a hot bind heavy burthens and lay them uponí other men's'
shoüldérS. Neither attempf, by unwäitalnted impositions, tc^
put a yoke upoU the necks öf the disciples, which human na¬
ture canhot, éonsñsteñtly iviüí intellectual freedom, bear.
0. liiere are those who approve our eflbrtà and rank them¬
selves with our friends. We earniestly beseech you to do ho¬
nour to yoUr profession, and strengthen our hands, by a wise
and virtuous conversation, joined Udth a good, unblemished
life, 'think not that' the correctness of your judgment can
absolve you from the obligations of practical morality. Far
be it from me to presume to decide, how much imperfection in
práctice may be compatible with sincerity in a reliions pro¬
fession ; but it is peculiarly important,that our behaviour should
not require ány apology or excuse before others. ' The very best
of us will have sufficient reason to pray, *'Gh>d be merciful, &c."
But let us rièt a^raváfe our common infirmities by a careless
arid wtlfill profanity, or the indulgence of wild passions, which
reasori condemns and from which piety revolts with disgust.
If your understandings are more enlightened than others, your~
conduct should be more correct. Let wisdom, integrity, and pu¬
rity, characterize your ordinary course of behaviour. We ask you
not to be asceticks, forgetting the duties of this world in melan¬
choly devotions-, and aspirations aftei unseen objects. We
attach no importance to a multitude of prayers, or perpetual
sermoti^-heáring. We had rather you were renowned for ho¬
nesty, sobriety, charity, discretion, speaking the truth always,
and doing good to all ; after the example of our heavenly
Father, and of our gracious Master, who set us an example,
that, &c.
Thus shall We prove that our cause is identical with that
which avowed its design to be to teach all men to live soberly,
righteously, and godly, in this present world ; and was, there¬
fore, worthy of the appellation of
" The globjous gospel of the blessed God !"]
AN
EXPLANATION
OF
J O K N I. 1.
IN
A DISCOURSE.
4»
BY PITT CLARKE,.
MINISTER OF THE CHURCH IN NORTON.
BOSTON:
CARTER & HENDEE
1 832.
The following discourse is published, by request, to give the people the views
of their Pastor upon a text, which has occasioned some dispute. The Word
contained in it has been differently explained ;—some suppose it to mean Christ ;
others, some attribute of Deity, as wisdom, or reason personified. As my opin¬
ion has been sought, I have, after prayerful attention, given that explanation,
which I think is scriptural. The Word of God is often used, and I find no
scripture authority to give it a different meaning in the text, from what it has
in general through the Göspel. We are told ' the old commandment is the word
which ye have heard from the beginning,' and ' this is the word, which by the
gospel is preached unto you.' I wish to follow no human leader, neither do I
assume any of those party names, which cause divisions in churches. It is
enough for me to have only one Master, that is Christ—only one creed, that is
the Gospel.
But because I disown all human leaders, and human creeds, professing to
preach only the doctrines of Christ, and to hold fellowship with good Christians
of every name, my sentiments are said to be concealed, and .thought so bad,
that some who formerly heard me with approbation, will not now listen to the
same preaching.
Under these circumstances, I feel it my duty to state, that I believe and preach
the same gospel in substance, that Î ever did. I always believed and preached
only one God, and one Mediator between God and man. I now firmly believe in
all the peculiar doctrines of the Gospel—all the doctrines of free grace through
a Redeemer—all the doctrines of regeneration and conversion as enjoined by
Christ—all the doctrines of sound, vital, experimental religion as revealed in
the holy scriptures. These I endeavor to preach, as I learn them from Christ,
without following any creed of man's device.
It is my earnest desire, that this discourse may be read with attention, and
without prejudice j that it may lead all to search the scriptures more diligent¬
ly, to prove all things, and to holdfast^ thai which is good.
To the people of his charge, with whom he has past nearly 40 years in a
quiet ministry, with ardent wishes for their peace and happiness, it is respect¬
fully and affectionately inscribed by their devoted
PASTOR.
Waitt Sf Dow's Press
DISCOURSE.
JOHK i. 1. In the beginning was the word, and the word was with
God, and the word was God.
The meaning of the term ' word ' is to be learnt entire¬
ly from scripture. Laying aside the devices of men, let
us repair to the oracles of truth, and believe what they
say. That meaning of the word, which apcords with
the general use of it in scripture, ought to be received
as the true meaning. In giving my explanation I would
speak in such plain language, as plain men may under¬
stand.
In the beginning was the word. By this word, I un¬
derstand the word of God, which in the beginning
spake worlds, systems, and beings into existence ; which
has spoken unto us by the holy scriptures ; which dwelt
in the Lord Jesus Christ, and by him has been preach¬
ed unto the world.
4
In the beginning, ' God said, let there be light, and
there was light let there be a firmament, and it did
immediately exist.* Thus all things were first brought
into existence by the word of God ; and this word was
the first expression of the Almighty.
* Gen. i. 3.
4
The word was not a mere sound, or voice. It con¬
tained the energy of Jehovah, combining the perfect
union of infinite power, wisdom, and goodness—every
thing necessary to create and organize in the best man¬
ner whatever was best to be created. This energy of
God ' spake, and it was done ; it commanded, and all
things stood fast.'*
The word was with God. This energy of"^ Jehovah
was with, and in him forever, self-existent, and inde¬
pendent. And the word was God. Or rather, as placed
in the original, God was the word. His energy was in
it, and produced it, and thereby brought every thing
into existence. This accords with the next verse.
The same was in the beginning with God. That is,
the same energy, including all the attributes of Jehovah
was forever with God, and in him eternally self-exis¬
tent.
Further, it is said, all things were made by him, and
without him was not any thing made that ivas made.
That is, by this word of God, personified into an agent,
were all things made, and without the agency of this
word, God did not make anv thing. In him was
' O •
life ; that is, in this word was the living energy of Je¬
hovah, and it was the light of men. This display of
God's energy gave light to the world.
Thus God has manifested himself, and all his attri¬
butes have been displayed by his word. To see this
truth more fully confirmed, we need only examine the
records of scripture.
The Psalmist says, ' By the word of the Lord were
/
the heavens made, and all the host of them by the
* Ps. xxxiii. 9.
5
breath of his mouth.'* Paul says, ' The worlds were
framed by the word of God.'f Here we are told, by
scripture, that God, in the beginning of creation, mani¬
fested the energy of himself by his word.
After the works of creation were completed, God
displaj^ed himself more fully, by his word, in the holy
scriptures. The works of nature were deemed. insuffi¬
cient to declare the existence of One God, without some
other manifestation. Mankind were so inconsiderate
*
as to worship appearances only. Looking only on
things seen, they sought out many inventions, and soon
ran into idolatry. Their minds were drawn off from
that invisible Spirit, which created all things, to adore
those splendid luminaries of heaven, which were de¬
signed to teach them the glory of the one true God.
Some even changed the glory of the incorruptible God
into images made like to corruptible man.
To guard against this idolatry, God made himself
more fully known, by a particular revelation. This he
did by his word. ' Holy men of God spake as they
were moved by the Holy Ghost.'Í By the word of in- '
spiration God made striking manifestations of himself
for the instruction of all mankind. He spake directly
unto Afhm, Noah, Abraham, and other patriarchs at
sundry times. He appeared unto Moses, and gave him
his word in a law, written on tables of stone, wherein
the first command is. Thou shalt have no other Gods
before me. This word of God is the same as was in
the beginning, though expressed in a different manner,
and by more direct communication.
Thus God, by his word, carried on a chain of commu-
* Ps. xxxiii. 6. t Heb. ii. 3. t 2 Peter, i. *21.
6
nications with many of his pious servants 4004 years
before Christ. ' In these last days he has spoken unto
us by his Son, whom he has appointed heir of all things,
by whom also he made the worlds.'* This Son of
God, who, in the language of Paul, ' is the first born of
every creature ;'t and as St John says, ' the beginning
of the Qreation of God,'| came into the world, in the
fulness of time, to give the most express manifestation
of his Father. ' No man hath seen God at any time ;
but the only begotten Son, which is in the bosom of
the Father, he hath declared him.'§ It was predicted,
' they should call his name Immanuel, which by inter¬
pretation is, God with us.'II And so much of^the
energy of God dwelt in him, that he was in effect the
same as God with us. F or no man could do the works,
he.did, except God were with him. Through him God
was manifest in the flesh. Nob only his power, wis¬
dom, and goodness were manifested in the Son, but
more fully his love and mercy toward the sinful children
of men. ' This is the record, that God hath given to
* us eternal life, and this life is in his Son.'H Through
him to be freely given to all ; who come unto God by
him. For this purpose the word dwelt in him, that it
might be communicated, through his mediation^accord-
ing to divine appointment. By his appearing in the
flesh, the word is said to be made flesh ; that is, ap¬
peared in his person, and as he dwelt among men, this
word of God dwelt among men, and by seeing ' his glo¬
ry We behold the glory, as of the only begotten of the
Father, full of grace and truth.'** Hence Christ ' was
the light of the world,' as God sent him to be a light
* Heb. i. 2. t Col. i. 15. t Rev. iii. 15. § John i. 18.
IIMatt. i. 23. VlJohnv. 11. - John i. 14.
7
—a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of his
pçople Israel.* ' This light shined in darkness, and
the darkness comprehended it not.' (ver. 5.) It first
shone upon the dark ages of the world, when mankind
were unable to comprehend its glory. It afterwards
shined upon the Jewish world through Christ, who was
sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel ; but they
were so blinded by prejudice and sin, as not to see its
excellence, nor receive its divine origin. Though he
came to his own people, preached to them this word of
God, and displayed before them this energy of Jehovah,
yet they would not receive him—they crucified this
Lord of glory. But as many as received him, to them
gave he power to become the sons of God, even to as
many as believed 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, (ver. 12, 13.) God, by his word,
created them anew in Christ Jesus unto good works.
This word and spirit of God, dwelling so fully in the
Lord Jesus Christ, empowered and authorized him to
command obedience, to open, or shut the doors of heav¬
en, to ' hold the keys of hell and death,'f and to save
unto the utmost all, who come unto God by him.
Thus we see, that God has carried on all his works
of creation and revelation by his word, and by the same
word, dwelling in the Lord, Jesus Christ, he has more
expressly manifested himself to us in these latter days.
Hence,
We learn, for our instruction, that God is to be seen
and adored, in alt the various ways, by which he has
manifested himself. As the heavens declare his glory,
* Luke ii. 32. t Rev. i. Í8.
8
and the firmament show forth his handy work, these
ought to inspire us with constant reverence toward him.
As the holy scriptures speak his existence, and are giv¬
en us for our direction, these ought to lead us unto him
in that true, spiritual worship, which he requires of his
rational creatures. But as the Son of God came from
the very bosom of the Father, to reveal his power, wis¬
dom, goodness and mercy still more fully and expressly,
our souls ought to ascend to God through him, as the
Mediator, with greater fervency and purer devotion.
To keep our minds free from embarrassment, we are
further taught to make a distinction between the Su¬
preme object of our adoration, and all other objects and
beings in wbich he is seen. Whatever love, or rever¬
ence we may feel toward any object, or being, through
which God has displayed himself, all the glory is to be
given to God alone. To learn this pure devotion, we
must consider,
1. There is but One God. If we form in our minds
more gods, than One, either in reality, or in name, we
are thrown into embarrassment, and our ideas are con¬
fused in the solemn act of devotion. Though God has
made himself known in various ways, he has never made
himself to be any more gods, than One—' One God
and Father of all, who is above all, and through all, and
in you all.'* We are taught to view him as one spirit,
self existent, independent, without beginning or ending,
unchangeable, the same for ever. Paul says expressly,
' There is none other god, but One. For though
there be, that are called gods, whether in heaven, or in
earth, (as there be gods many, and lords many,) but
* Eph. iv. 6.
9
to us there is but One God, the Father, of whom are
all things, and we in him ; and one Lord Jesus Christ,
by whom are all things, and we by him.'*
We cannot suppcise, if we believe scripture, that there
is or ever was more Gods, than One. If more in any
form as supreme, it would make a variety of Gods, all
equally supreme, united together in the creation and
government of the world. Such a God is not revealed
in scripture. The Prophet says, ' There shall be one
Lord, and his name One.'f (1)
It was however the doctrine of Paganism ; tha't there
were many Gods, and this doctrine was called Polythe¬
ism. Against this idolatry God has spoken in the most
express terms. ' Hear O Israel, the Lord our God is
One Lord.X Thou shalt have no other Gods before
me.' ' Thus saith the Lord, I am the first, and I am
the last and besides me, there is no God.'^
This doctrine of the simple unity of Jehovah was im¬
pressed with strong and repeated language upon the
whole house of Israel. God appeared unto the patri¬
arch at sundry times, and more expressly unto his servant
Moses, in order to enforce upon them the certainty, that
there is only one living and true God. When Daniel
was cast into the fiery furnace, and Lion's den, because
he would not worship other Gods, the Lord Almighty
protected him from the burning flames and hungry
lions, and thereby convinced his enemies, that the Lord,
he is God and there is none else. When our Saviour
came, he enforced the same doctrine by repeating ; ' the
first of all the commandments is, hear O Israel ; the
* 1 Cor. viii. 5, 6.
2
t Zech. xiv. 9
§ Is. xliv. 6.
X Deut. vi. 4, V. 7.
10
Lord our God is one Lord ' there is none other but
he ; and love to him with all the heart and soul is more,
than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.'* When
he was tempted to worship some otljer being, he resist¬
ed the temptation with disdain, saying, ' it is written,
thou shalt worship the Lord, thy God, and him only
shalt thou serve.'t
2. We are taught to make a distinction between the
supreme God, and all the objects and beings, through
which he has manifested himself.
God" in himself is an invisible spirit, ' whom no man
hath seen.'î (2) Whatsoever can be seen by the nat¬
ural eye, cannot be God as he really is. We must look
beyond all visible things to see an invisible spirit, and
make a distinction between what is visible and invisible.
We see God tvith an eye of faith in all his works, but
these works are not God. We may hear his voice, as
there is 'no speech, nor language, where his voice is
not heard,' yet this voice is not God. It is only the
effect of his power. He is spreading the emanations of
his Being throughout the universe ; but those objects
and beings, which compose the universe, are not his
emanations, nor his attributes, nor any part of him.
They are only the works of his power and wisdom.
They speak his energy ; they declare his glory ; they
show forth his handy work. We must look beyond all
these by the eye of faith to behold God.
To magnify any object, or being into the supreme
God, because God dwells in it, is approaching idolatry,
worshipping the creature instead of the Creator. It falls
far short of that pure worship, which the Father requires
* Mark xii. 29-33. 1 Matt. iv. 10. î 1 Tim. vi. 16,
11
of his worshippers. However splendid and exalted the
object, or however brightly God may shine through it,
still it ought not to draw our adoration from him, who
is exalted far above all. Yes, the more we see the
brightness of God's glory shining in any object, the
more that very object ought to increase our profound
reverence for that spirit, which shines through it. For
we must look beyond the most express image of his
person to behold and worship the only living and true
God.
2. We are taught to make the same distinction
between God and the holy scriptures.
These speak the word of God more clearly, than the
works of nature declare. In the volume of truth, God comes
down among men and clothes his holy spirit in a letter.
Here he condescends to reason with man, saying, ' come
now, and let us reason together saith the Lord.'* But
though God is seen in the holy scriptures reasoning with
man, nevertheless the holy scriptures are not God. We
must make a distinction between the oracle and him,
who spake the oracle. The Angel of the Lord appear¬
ed unto Moses ' in a flame of fire out of a bush,' and
said, ' I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac,
and the God of Jacob.'f Yet we are to make a dis¬
tinction between the angel, and God, who sent his
Angel to speak for him. Though the Angel says, lam
God, we are to view him only as God's messenger. He
may speak with the voice and authority of Jehovah, and
yet not be Jehovah. We must look still higher, beyond
all messengers and vicegerents, to behold the true God.
With the same eye of faith we are taught to look beyond
* Is. i. Ití. t Exod. iii. 2, 6.
12
the Son to behold his Father, seated on a throne of glory,
highly exalted far above all Gods. This leads,
3. To consider the distinction, clearly made in the
gospel, between the Father and his Son.
We must view the Father and his Son as they are
plainly revealed in Scripture—make the same dis¬
tinction between them which Christ himself has made ;
not add to, nor take from his express words. The
Father has fully manifested himself, through his Son, as
mediator, and expressly appointed him to be our Advo¬
cate, or medium of access unto the throne of grace. We
must then view the Son in this distinct capacity ; not
suffer the medium to prevent our devotion from ascend¬
ing to the Father of all ; nor so blend the medium with
the supreme object of our worship, as to perplex our
minds and grieve away the good spirit, which is offered
us, through the intercession of Christ. He has express-
4
ly taught us to look with an eye of faith beyond him to
behold his Father and our Father. For he is only the
visible appearance of the Father, the express image of
his person. We always make a distinction between a
person and his image, however perfect it may be ; and
we are expressly forbidden the worship of God under
any idea of an image, or any likeness of him in heaven
above, or in earth beneath. In the true worship of
God, therefore, we piust elevate our souls, above all
appearances, to that omnipresent Spirit who fills im¬
mensity.
In thus raising our souls to God through Christ, we
make him an exalted medium, and not a medium with-
•
out life, but a living, powerful Mediator. For ' as the
13
Father hath life in himself, so he has given to the Son
to have life in himself.'* Life being given to him
proves his dependence on the Father. Our Saviour is
very explicit on this point. Let us attend to his own
express language. ' I can of mine own self do nothing ;
as I hear, I judged^ The words, that I speak, I speak
not of myself; but the Father, that dwelleth in me, he
doeth the worksdX Again he says, ' The Son can do
nothing of himself hut what he seeth the Father do. For
9
what things soever he doth, these also doth the Son
likewise. ' For the Father loveththe Son and, showeth
him all things, that himself doeth.He says also
^ All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth.\\
(3) No language can be plainer, than this, to prove that
whatever power or wisdom Christ possessed, the whole
was derived from the Father, and he was dependent on
the Father for what he did.
If there be any meaning in Christ's words, and he
did not mean to deceive us, we must suppose that He,
whom the Father sent into the world, is not the same
as the Father who sent him. He expressly says, 'I
came forth from the Father, and again I leave the world,
and go unto the Father;'î for my Father is greater
than /.** Again he positively declares respecting a fu¬
ture event. 'Of that day and hour knoweth no man
—neither the Son, but the Father.' ft Further he ex¬
pressly says, ' Why callest thou me good ? There is
none good but one, that is, God.'îî None so supreme¬
ly good as God is. By these positive and plain declar¬
ations, Christ has made an evident distinction between
himself, and his Father, by attributing to God superior
* John V. 26. i Ib. v, 30. t lb. v. JO. . § v, 19. || Matt,
xviii. 18. II John xvi. 28. ** John xiv. 28. tt Mark xiii. 32.
it Matt. xix. 17.
14
$
greatness, superior knowledge, and supeirior goodness ;
thereby teaching us to view him as subordinate.
Further, he told Mary, after his resurrection, ' I as¬
cend unto my Father and your Father, to my God and
your God hereby declaring the plain truth, that he
had a God and Father in heaven, into whose immedi¬
ate presence he was about to ascend.
When the Jews charged our Saviour with blasphemy,
because he said, God was his Father, making himself,
as they thought, equal with God,—he replied, 'If
he called them Gods, unto whom the word of God
came, and the scripture cannot be broken, say ye of
him, whom the Father sent into the world, thou blas-
phemest ; because I said, I am the Son of God ?' t This
is the highest title he claimed, and all his language is
predicated upon the plain truth, that there is an evident
distinction between the Father and the Son.
Again, we read the same distinction between them in
the history of our Saviour. He was seen among men,
by many witnesses, in infancy and childhood, when
consecrated to the Priest's office, and going about to
do good ; whereas God has jtiever been seen. He is
an eternal spirit, which cannot be seen by any bodily
eye. The Son of God was born and died on the cross.
But the Father of all could not be born and die. No
such idea is conveyed in scripture ; nor can we enter¬
tain the thought, that the Supreme Jehovah died, with¬
out supposing the universe to have perished with him.
(4)
The distinction hern, made in the history of our Sa¬
viour is carried through the whole of revelation, and
* John XX. 17. i John x» 35, 36.
15
we ought always to carry it in our minds, in order to
worship God as a spirit, in spirit and in truth. All our
worship to the Father is to be in the name and through
the mediation of Jesus Christ, for he is our only Medi¬
ator and Advocate. When it is said, ' at the name of
»
Jesus every knee should bow, and every tongue confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord,' it is to be done ' to the glory
of God the Father.'* In this way he, that honoreth
the Son, honoreth the Father also. Every one, that
loveth the Son, loveth the Father, who sent him.
Reverence and praise are due to the Son, as the repre¬
sentative of the Father. Viewing him as the medium
of access unto God, our reverence for him is to ascend
unto the Father of our spirits. For he dwells in his
Son, by his Spirit and grace, in order to be accessible to
us, his unworthy creatures, and to receive our homage
in this appointed way of mediation.
The distinction here made between the Father and
the Son, our Saviour further proved to the Jews, when
they said, his record was not true, because he bore
record of himself. He said, ' It is written in your law,
that the testimony of two men is true. I am one, that
bear witness of myself, and the Father that sent me,
beareth witness of me.'f If they were both one and
the same being, though acting in différent capacities,
they could not be two fair witnesses in any law, human
or divine ; and Christ, by his own statement, would
then have shown himself a deceiver. We must believe,
he spake the truth, without any deception or prevarica¬
tion. Believing him to be what he claimed, and what
all the Apostles acknowledged him to be, the true
* Phil. ii. 10, II, Í John viii. 17, 18.
16
Messiah, the only Mediator between God and man, we
are bound to receive him as such, or we have no Medi¬
ator. For a Mediator is one between two. If Christ
be the same as the Father, we have no Mediator, nor
Intercessor at the throne of grace. Where then shall
we go for hope ? There is no other name given, where¬
by we must be saved : no other Mediator appointed,
only the Son of God. Not the least intimation is given
in all the prophecies, nor in any part of the Gospel,
that the Father is the Mediator between himself, and
I
man.
If then we^believe what is clearly revealed in scrip¬
ture, what Christ has said of himself, and what the
Holy Ghost teaches us in the very words of inspiration,
we must believe Jesus of Nazareth to be the Son of
God, in distinction from the Father. But though his
Son, he possessed the same spirit with the Father.
They were both one, in the same sense in which Christ
prayed that all his disciples might he one, even as he
and the Father were one.* That is, one in design and
pursuit ; ^.one in'^the temper and spirit of holiness ; one
in affection and co-operation, through the whole work
of redemption. In the same sense, ' he that planteth
and he that watereth are one.'f
Thus, the true character of Christ is, the Son of God,
the Saviour of the world, the only Mediator between
God and man. Beyond this, ' No man knoweth who
the Son is but the Father.^t Here I must pause—My
Saviour checks my further search into the spirituality
of his being, or into that ' glory, which he had with
the Father before the world was.'§ Scripture exalts
* John xvii. 11. t 1 Cor. iii. 8. J Luke x. 22. § John xvii. 5.
r
17
hitn in my view far above any thing that is human, and
seems to say, he had a superangelic nature, or a glory
with the Father before the worlds were made ; but in
this mysterious range I am lost.
It is not revealed what rank the Lord of glory holds
in'the scale of being, nor what particular union he has
with the Father. This is a mystery, not fit to be re¬
vealed. ' Canst thou by searching, find out God ? Canst
thou find out the Almighty unto perfection * Such
knowledge is too high for ys. Likewise the knowledge
of the Son of God, béyond revelation, is too high for
our investigation. We are not to he wise above what is
written. We are to remain ignorant, as to the exalted
nature of him, who came from the bosom of his Father,
who, though in the image of God, humbled himself to
become the servant of man, that by his obedience unto
death he might make propitiation for the sins of the
world, and reconcile us, guilty children, to the favor of
our heavenly Father. Shall we presume to scan the
mysteries of him, who, for our sakes, was, miraculously
sent from heaven, and whose birth and life made a his-
tory of miracles ? Shall we make this such a subject
of dispute, as not to unite in receiving the kind mes¬
sages, the glad tidings of great Joy he brings, because
we cannot agree in the rank he holds ? Shall we say
unto God, we will not unitedly follow his Son, till he
reveals the whole mystery respecting his particular
union with the Father ? This would be presumption
and rebellion ! A plain revelation is the boundary line,
beyond which we cannot pass into this subject. This
line our Saviour has fixed in these words. ' All things
3
• Job xi. 7
18
are delivered unto me of my Father, and fio one hnow-
eth who the Son is but the Father.'' Here we ought to
rest contentedly and learn of the blessed Jesus what is
revealed of him. We are told in plain language, that
he is the Son of God, and Saviour of the world ; that
he came from the Father, and was sent to save us from
our sins.
For this knowledge- we ought to be thankful and give
glory to God for the gift of a Saviour to a perishing
world ; that he left the abodes of heaven to engage in
our redemption ; that he is an all sufficient Mediator ; in
whom dwelt the fulness of the Godhead, bodily; to whom
the spirit of God was given without measure ; who, being
delivered for our offences, and raised again for our justifi¬
cation, ascended to his Father and our Father, there to
intercede for us, and that ' God hath appointed a day, in
which he will judge the world in righteousness, by that
man, whom he hath ordained, whereof he hath given
assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from
the dead.' * •
While many go beyond revelation on both sides—some
declaring, positively, the Son is the same as the Father,
%
and others representing him as a mere man, let us be
steadfast and unmoveable in what is revealed of Christ,
viewing him the Son of God, in a sense in which no
mere man can be ; that heavenly messenger, who had a
dignity and a glory with the Father before the WDrld
was. May we carry with us that sound reply, which
Peter made to his Master, when his disciples were
asked, ' whom do men say, that I the Son of man am ^
And whom say ye, that I am ?' He said, ' Thou art the
* Acts xvii. 31.
♦
19
Christ,-the Son of the living God.' For so just an an¬
swer Jesus said, ' Blessed, art thou, Simon Bar-jona,
for flesh and blood has not revealed this unto thee, but
my Father who is in heaven.'* Hereby our Saviour
sanctioned the answer, as the truth, and the whole truth,
that is revealed of him.
It would be much for the peace and happiness of the
Christian world at the present day, if all who bear the
Christian name, would stop at this reply, ponder upon it
seriously, and unite their affections in this gospel truth.
I firmly believe, if all would lay aside their prejudices,
and let the word of God havç free course, they would
unite in their adherence to it.
I am fully persuaded, if all of you would read your bibles
diligently, and connectedly, you would find the distinc¬
tion I have made, between the Father and the Son, to
be revealed in Scripture. In every prayer you make
through the Mediator, you make this distinction. You
cannot pray unto God in the name of Christ without it.
For every prayer, which is made to the Father through
the Son, as Mediator, supposes a distinction between
them. If Christ be not such a Mediator as to constitute
%
him One between God and man, we have no Mediator.
But, I trust we are resting upon this gospel truth,
that God has sent his Son to be our Mediator and ground
of hope, that through him we may all have access by
one spirit unto the Father, and that he is exalted to be
a Prince and Saviour to give repentance and remission
of sin. ' Other foundation can no man lay, than that is
»
laid, which is Jesus Christ.'f All the primitive dis¬
ciples built their hopes of heaven on this sure founda-
* Matt. xvi. 13, 15, 16, 17. t 1 Cor. iii. 11.
é
20
0
tion, which is called ' the foundation of the Apostles
and Prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief
corner stone.'* Being alive on this foundation, we may
grow into a holy temple in the Lord, and be united in
peace and love. Though we may differ in names we
may walk together in. a firm belief, that God has made
his Son, who was crucified for us, the power of God and
the wisdom of God in our salvation. For by him ' we
have received the atonement,' even a reconciliation with
God through our Lord, Jesus Christ. We may all en¬
joy this great blessing, by faith and repentance, love
and obedience, flowing from a new heart devoted to the
service of God.
May we be animated by these encouraging truths,
that God in Christ Jesus is reconciling the world unto
himself, not imputing unto men their tresspasses, not
willing that any should perish ; but that all might come
to repentance and live. Here is the great mystery of
Godliness, which, though hidden from former ages, has
now been made manifest to the saints, how ' God was
manifest in flesh' through Jesus Christ for our redemp¬
tion from sin and misery ; how he so loved the world, as
to send his own Son to suffer and die in the cause of our re¬
demption—to rise again for our justification—to bring life
and immortality to light—to put all mankind into a state
of salvation, and to give every soul the offer of everlast¬
ing life. Christ came to manifest this great love, and
to give himself for us, that he might ' redeem us from
all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people,
zealous of good works.'f God has exalted his Son to
an equal dignity with himself, in the work of redemption,
* Eph. ii. 20
t Titus ii. 14
21
by delegating to him all the powers requisite to com¬
plete it. Hence he is able to save, unto the uttermost,
all who come unto God by him. ' Neither is there sal¬
vation in any other ; for there is none other name under
heaven given among men whereby we must be saved.'*
Surely he has ' the words of eternal life.' f To
whom else shall we go for salvation ? After he has
completed the work of redemption, by his gospel, and
' all things are subdued unto him, then shall the Son
also himself be subject unto him that put all things
under him, that God may be all in all.í
The conclusion is, that the doctrine of one God, and
one Mediator between God and man, is a distinguish-
%
ing doctrine of the gospel. It runs through the whole
of scripture, and is as old as creation. The apostle
says, ' The old commandment is the Word, which ye
have heard from the beginning.' ^ All worldly things
are passing away ; ' but the word of the Lord endur-
eth forever, and this is the Word, which by the gospel
is preached unto you.' ||
* Acts iv. 12. I John vi. 68. í 1 Cor. xv. 28. § 1 John ii. 7.
11 1 Peter i. 25.
«
«>
NOTES.
(1-)
Some of the earliest fathers of the church said, ' A plurality
of persons in the Godhead would make a multiplicity of Gods.' A
distinguished writer of the Apostolic day tells us, that ' St John
preached only one God, supreme over all, and one only begotten
Son, Jesus Christ; and that this God is the Father of our Saviour.'
(2.)
The invisibility of God may be thought to militate with what
Christ said, John xiv. 9 ; He that hath seen me, hath seen the Far
ther. But by this he only meant. He, who has seen me in the spirit
and power I have displayed, has seen the spirit and power of the
Father. For I am in the Father^ and the Father in me,
(3.)
The Gospel tells us plainly, and by implication, more than three
hundred times, that the Son is subordinate to the Father, or derives
his being and power from the. Father. Nearly as many times is he
called the Son of God^ and not once said to be the same as the F ath¬
er. The express design of John's Gospel was to declare this truth
positively. John xx. 31 : These are written that ye might believe
that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God ; and that believing ye might
have life through his name. Our Saviour spake this after his resur¬
rection, with a particular design to convince the unbelieving Thom¬
as, and other doubting Christians.
(4.)
Some say Christ had two distinct natures, human and divine ; and
that the human only suifered and died. If only the human part suf¬
fered on the cross, there would be nothing more than a human sac¬
rifice, which could not make an infinite atonement, as is pretended.
Besides, if there were not a complete death in the crucifixion of Christ,
there would not be a complete resurrection, and our faith would be
vain. Nothing in scripture is said about these two natures in Christ ;
not a syllable in the whole bible, to show that he died in one nature,
and not in another ; that he sometimes spake in his divine nature,
and at others in his human ; that in one he knew all things, and in
the other he did not. Such a complex view of the Saviour is far
24
X from the simplicity of the Gospel. Neither this, nor a plurality of
persons in God can be traced up to the Apostolic day. They were
both introduced 400 years after Christ by certain Platonic Philoso¬
phers, and through the Popish religion came down to us.
Leaving human tradition, let us search the Holy Scriptures, that we
may know the only living and true God, and the Lord Jesus Christ,
whom to know aright is life eternal. We are led to the most exal¬
ted views of the Saviour, and to build all our hopes of salvation on
the mercy of God through him. But if we cannot learn the knowl¬
edge of our God and Saviour irom the plain words of Christ him¬
self, where can we go to know them? If we deny the Father and
the Son, we are in danger of falling into the spirit of Antichrist.
It is said (1 John ii. 22,) He is Antichrist, who denieth the Father
and the Son ; i. e. denieth their real, individual existence, as reveal¬
ed in scripture. Again (iv. 3,) The spirit that confesseth not that
Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is not of God. This is the spirit
of Antichrist. We are not to confess that the Father has thus come
in the flesh. There is no scripture to show, that he took a human
body. The Son says, (Heb. x. 5,) A body hast thou prepared me.
This we are to confess, that the Son, in distinction from the Father,
took a human body, and came in the flesh. We are taught to make
this distinction by Christ himself. But if we cannot rely upon his
plain words in this distinction, how can we know, that we are not
deceived in all scripture language respecting the attributes of God
and his justice, goodness and mercy ? ' By giving way to this we may
pervert the meaning of all God's words, and fall into gross dark¬
ness !
EXTRACTS FROM A PRAYER COMPOSED BY DR. WATTS.
«
^ Permit me, O my God and Father, to plead with thee cpncernlng the rela¬
tions of thy nature, and let me do it with all that humble reverence and that
holy awe of thy majesty, which becomes a creature in the presence of God.'
* Hadst thou told me plainly in one single text, that the Father, Son, and Ho¬
ly Spirit, are three real, distinct persons in thy nature, I had never suffered my¬
self to be bewildered by so many doubts, nor embarrassed with so many strong
fears of assenting to the mere inventions of, men instead of divine doctrine.'
' Thou hast called the poor and ignorant of this World to the knowledge of
thyself and thy Son, and taught them to partake of the salvation thou hast provi¬
ded. But how can such weak'creatures ever take in so strange and abstruse a
doctrine as tiiis; in the explication whereof, multitudes of men, even men of
learning and piety, have lost themselves in infinite subtleties of dispute î And
how can this strange and perplexing notion of three real persons, going to
make up one true God, be so necessary and so important apart of that christian
doctrine, which in the Old Testament and New is represented as so plain and
easy, even to the meanest understanding ?*
* O thou searcher of hearts, who knowest all things, I appeal to thee con¬
cerning the sincerity of my inquiries into these discoveries of thy word.'
^ Thou art witness, O my God, with what diligence, constancy, and care, I
have searched thy holy word : how early and late I have been making these
inquiries. How fervently have I been seeking Thee on my bended knees, and
directing my humble addresses to Thee to enhghten my darkness, and to show
me the meaning of thy word, that I may learn what I must believe and what I
must practise witli regard to this doctrine, in order to please Thee and obtain
eternal life!'
WHAT IS tWITARlANlSm t
A SERMON,
PELIVERED m THE PROTESTANT METHODIST CHÜRCH OF ALTON,
ILLINOIS, SUNDAY AFTERNOON,
DEC. 7ih, 183S.
t
CHARLES A. FARLEY.
The most ancient creed, fabulously denominated the Apostle^s, contains a dozen lines; the
Kicenc twice as much; the Athanasian twice as much more; the Augsburg Confession con¬
tains twenty-eight chapters; the English, thirty-nine articles, the Scotch, thirty three chap¬
ters. Thus have points of difterence been multiplied. Every age has added something, till
finally the more copious the system of faith, the more secure the believer thinks himself."
Jared Sparksj in his " Lstier to Rsv Dr Millsr.^
PRINTED By
TREADWAY. PARKS & BAILEY,
AliTON, IL.I.INOIS,
1837.
At a meeting of the ''First Unitarian Society of Alton'* held on the evening of
December 15,1836. Caleb Stone, Esq., was called to the chair, and the follow¬
ing resolutions were adopted.
Rtsolved^ That in view of the recent organization of this society,- and of the for^
mation of other Unitarian societies in the west, it is important that the public have
true views of Unitarian Christianity.
Resolved^ That the sermon delivered by the Rev. Charles A. Farlet in the
Protestant Methodist Church on Sunday afternoon last, furnishes a clear and just
exposition of the views of Unitarian Christians.
Resolvedf That the Chairman of this meeting be a Committee to wait on the Rev.
Mr. Farley, and request a copy for the press.
CALEB STONE, Chairman.
Henry Sargent, Secretary.
ALTON, ILLINOIS, DEC. 16,1836.
REV. C. A. FARLEY,
Dear Sir:—In persuance of the enclosed Resolutions, you are
respectfully requested to permit the publication of the sermon therein alluded to.
Your friend and
Obedient Servant,
CALEB STONE.
ALTON, DEC. 18, 1836.
CALEB STONE, Esq,
Dear Sir:—I willingly comply with the request communica¬
ted to me in your note of December 16; hoping that the sermon may in some meas¬
ure, advance »'the truth as it is in Jesus,**
Very truly your friend
and Obedient Servant,
CHARLES A. FARLEY.
Those Unitarians who live at a distance, where their sentiments are prevalent, may
wonder that the Author has gone so much into detail in some parts of this Sermon.
He can only say, that the circumstances in which he was placed, rendered it neces¬
sary.
ACTS XVII. t. 19.
-«•may we know what this new doctrine whereof TIÍOU 8peakest 18 T'
Many persons, (they are not the candid or intelligent of any sect)
«peak wiih great confidence of the character of^doctrines which they
have never examined, certainly not examined in a christian spirit,
ERRATUM.
On the 5th page, 20th line from the bottom, read
"Greenites and Taylorites." The oversight was not
noticed till the Sermon was struck off. Mr. Barnes
and Dr. Taylor are of the same school.
portant of all subjects at all hazards.
In forming a new society in a place where the population is compo¬
sed of individuals from every section of the Union, we are under
Strong obligations to state explicitly what views of Christianity we
embrace. We would have none join us who cannot conscientiously
do so; and I am persuaded that much of the opposition we meet with,
arises from ignorance of our views. It is founded mainly on idle rumor
for every Unitarian must have heard statements of his faith which have
not the shadow of a foundation in truth. In giving then our views as
concisely as I can without danger of misapprehension, I must in the
outset clear the way of some mistakes without which f cannot hope to
satisfy some objectors,
A Unitarian is thought to embrace a system so remarkably bad, that
the very word which designates his faith, is with many like the mark
set upon the brow of Cain, sufficient to justify almost any terms of ab¬
horrence. He is indisciiminately classed with Atheists, with Infidels,
with Deists, with Universalists and with Socinians. I feel almost
ashamed of the necessity of meeting these charges. They have been
met over and over again, but as long as they are persisted in, we must
ALTON, DEC. 18,1836.
CALEB STONE. Esq.
Dear Sir:—I willingly comply with the request communica*
ted to me in your note of December 16; hoping that the sermon may in some meas*
ure, advance *'the truth as it is in Jesus.'*
Very truly your friend
and Obedient Servant«
CHARLES A. FARLEY.
Those Unitarians who live at adistance, where their sentiments are prevalent, may
wonder that the Author has gone so much into detail in some parts of this Sermon.
He can only say, that the circumstances in wJiich he was placed, rendered it. neces*
•ary.
acts XVII. T. 19.
•"MAY WE KNOW WHAT THIS NEW DOCTRINE WHEREOF THOlT SPEAKEST IS?'»
Many persons, (they are not the candid or intelligent of any sect)
«peak wiih great confidence of the character of doctrines which they
have never examined, certainly not examined in a christian spirit,
to discover the truth. Such persons, it is obvious, should be answered
with the rebuke of silence. There is another class, who say, " We
are not acquainted with your peculiar doctrines, and are anxious to
hear them explained." To this class I address myself, and I beg you
■ to remember that in speaking plainly of doctrines, I mean no disre¬
spect to those who hold them. I advocate other views, because I
think them more scriptural, more true, and more beneficial. I am
not at all anxious to cover myself from the charge of heresy by show¬
ing that there is an essential agreement between me and ray brethren
of other denominations, tor I believe there is an essential difference.
Our views of God, of Christ, of private and social duties, and the terms
of salvation are widely different, and although I believe that they will
all, when honestly believed, lead to the same Heaven, yet that they by
no means lead to the same happiness and usefulness on earth.
It is not pleasant to be caked hard names. It is equally unpleasant
to be misunderstood. We must speak our convictions on the most im¬
portant of all subjects at all hazards.
In forming a new society in a place where the population is compo¬
sed of individuals from every section of the Union, we are under
strong obligations to state explicitly what views of Christianity we
embrace. We would have none join us who cannot conscientiously
do so; and I am persuaded that much of the opposition we meet with,
arises from ignorance of our views. It is founded mainly on idle rumor
for every Unitarian must have heard statements of his faith which have
not the shadow of a foundation in truth. In giving then our views as
concisely as 1 can without danger of misapprehension, I must in the
outset clear the way of some mistakes without which Í cannot hope to
satisfy some objectors.
A Unitarian is thought to embrace a system so remarkably bad, that
the very word which designates his faith, is with many like the mark
set upon the brov/ of Cain, sufficient to justify almost any terms of ab¬
horrence. He is indiscriminately classed with Atheists, with Infidels,
with Deists, with Universalists and with Socinians. 1 feel almost
ashamed of the necessity of meeting these charges. They have been
met over and over again, but as long as they are persisted in, we muit
4
continue to meet them, not for the sake of those who make them, but
for those who hear them, till their authors are ashamed to repeat thera,
and the public mind is completely disabused.
An Atheist is one who has no belief in a God as the Supreme Cre¬
ator, moral gorernor and ruler of the universe. We are not then
Atheists, for in this we firmly believe and from this point we start.
An Infidel or Deist (I use the words as synonymous) is one who re¬
jects Christianity as a Divine Revelation, and holds to no other Bible
than the bible of nature. We are not then infidels or deists, for we
take the bible as a revelation from God, and as our supreme rule of
faith and practice.
Universalists are divided into two classes; one called Restoration-
ists, the other i/ftra Universalists, or no future ptmishment Universal¬
ists. The former bold many articles of faith in common with us, and
all other christian denominations. They differ chcifly from us in be¬
lieving that the doctrine of the final restoration of all men to eternal
happiness, isa doctrine of the bible, as positively revealed as that God
is our Father. While most, if not all Unitarians, do not believe this
to be a positively revealed doctrine, but a fair presumption of reason
grounded on what they know of the character of God from his works,
his providence and his word; they are content with saying "We en¬
tertain a benevolent hope that all men will at some future time be
restored to happiness." But Unitarians generally think it unnecessa-
ry to enter into any curious speculations, upon the subject, but cling
to the unequivocal declarations of the bible, that " we shall all stand
before the judgment seat of Christ, to be judged according to the
deeds done in the body." W^e are not then Univerealists, who are
Restorationists. An Ultra [Universalist denies that there is a future
state of righteous retribution; and insists that all punishment for sin is
in this world. With this which is with them a fundamental doctrine
we have no sympathy. We say that it strikes at the foundation (as it
seems to us) not only of all piety, but does not give sufficient security
for a decent morality. We dare not say that this doctrine is a "soul
destroying doctrine," and consign its disciples *0 perdition. We only
say that if this is their deliberate conclusion after a fair examination
\^e are sorry for it, but with them rests the lesponsibility. We deny
them not the name of christians. We judge no man. To their own
master they stand or fall.
The word Socinian, is derived from Laelius and Faustus Socinus,
Italians, who in an early ^rLof the reformation advocated the strict
Unity of God. Their disciples in Venice were thrown into dungeons,
and executed for this heresy, and they therefore sought refuge in Po-
5
knd, and are there supposed by some to have digested the main doc¬
trines of Unitarianism. into a system. They however held one doc¬
trine, viz: that Christ is a proper object of prayer which no Unitarian
in this country, that we know of, at the present day holds. We honor
them for their piety, their learning and their devotion to religious lib¬
erty, but we do not take their name, and it is not fair to impose it up¬
on us; for besides the important point in which we differ from them,
we call no man Master but Christ, and can be rightly designated by no
man's name. We look upon them as upon Dr. Priestly, holding with
us a great many things in common, but indulging in speculations
which the sect as a sect do not hold, and for which they, and they
only, are responsible ; and here I may observe with regard to the
charge that Unitarians differ among themselves, that in the first place
it is a fundamental point in Unitarianism, to allow every man to think
for himself, and express his honest convictions with the utmost free¬
dom, after careful enquiry, and under a solemn sense of responsibility.
Hence men will difïer, but they are far more likely to come to a ration¬
al unity, than if fettered by creeds, and awed by the risk of church
censure; and in the second place, there is quite as much unity
of opinion among us, as among Trinitarians, who differ essen¬
tially from each other, about the Trinity, Atonement and. deprav-
ity of man, and it is as wrong to call us Socinians as it would be to
call the body of Trinitarians Barnesites or Taylorites, because Dr.
Barnes and Dr. Taylor, are leaders of different Trinitarian schools,
I have shown, then, I trust, as plainly as words can show, that we are
not Atheists, not Infidels, not Deists, not Universalists, not Socinians,
and he who insists that we are, utters a sliameful calumny.
I now come to another point, the Bible. It is said that Unitarians
reject the Bible, and have " a new Gospel." Do those who say this,
really believe that they are speaking " the words of truth and sober¬
ness?'' We have the same bible which is re ad and approved in all
christian churches, and if any one doubts it, we ask him to examine
our Bibles for himself. But this charge means, with many, that we
interpret the Bible differently from some of our brethren. This is
true. But as they have no more claim to infallibility than ourselves,
and no better means of coming to the tiuth than we have, we
might as well charge them with rejecting the Bible and having a new
Gospel. Nay, upon this principle the Quakers reject the Bible, be¬
cause they reject the ordinances of the Gospel, Baptism and the
Lord's Supper. The Episcopalians reject the Bible by insisting that
theirs is the only Une churchy by the Apostolic succession of its Bishops,
and that none are properly ordained ministers of Christ, but those ordain-
1 .
6
ed within the pale of their communion- The Presbyterians reject the
Bible, because their interpretations of certain doctrines are exceed¬
ingly various and contradictory. And thus it will follow, not that this
or that sect are not christians, but in fact that no sect are christians.
Ah, but says the^ objector, You are not a fair judge. None but the
regenerate can see the truth. But this charge may also be thrown
back again, since those who claim to be regenerate, are of different
seels, and moreover the proof of a supernatural communication of
light is no proof except to him who receives it. He has no means of
convincing others, except by his own assertion and life that this pre¬
tended communication of positive truth, is not a mistake—a mere im¬
agination. You may have undergone a miraculous change, which has
illuminated your mind, and given you more correct interpretations of
Scripture than myself; but as long as what seems miraculous to you,
seems perfectly natural to me, and the light I have assures me that
piety will come in a natural way, by natural means, and as I cannot see
that your character is any better than that of many others who hold
the same opinions with myself, and are sensible of no such miracu¬
lous change, I cannot adopt your interpretation with only your word
for it.
We do not then reject the Bible. We believe it to be " The word
of God," and we must here explain what we mean by " The Word of
Gody'* for the phrase is ambiguous. In popular language we may
call the collection of writings contained in the Old and New Testa¬
ments, "The Word of God," but strictly speaking it is not correct.—
It is a collection of different writings—by different authors, at different
times, composed under different circumstances, and entitled to dif¬
ferent degrees of respect, according to the importance of the subject
treated and the different degrees of credit belonging to each book, or
parts of each book..-:7-There are Epistles which good and learned men
of different denominations have hesitated to ascribe to the authors
whose names they bear.* There are chapters whose authenticity has
been disputed, and verses indisputably spurious,! and passages whose
meaning has been altered by the change of a letter or the interpolation
*The Epistle to the Hebrews, the Epistle of St. Jude, 2d of Peter, 2d and 3d of
John, the Epistle of James and the Revelation, have all been doubted. "These,"
says Dr. Lardner, " should be allowed to be read in christian Assemblies, for the ed¬
ification of the people, but not be alleged as affording alone sufficient proof of any
doctrine." The rest " only should be of the highest authority from which doctrines
of religion may be proved."
fl. John, V. 7. "There are three that bear record in Heaven." The Eclectic Re¬
view, an English Periodical of high orthodox authority,'says: ** We are un-
speakably ashamed any modern divines should have contended for retaining a
passage so indisputably spurious" And yet it still stands in the Book of Common
Prayer of the Episcopal Church for the first Sunday after Easter. It is bad enough
to have it in our Bibles; but to have ministers cite it as a proof text, and preach
from it, as some do» is inexcusable unless on the ground of ignorance.
7
of a word or a Ilne.í This is true of the original Hebrew and Greek,
and particularly true of the English version. Strictly speaking, then,
the books called the Bible, are not " The Word of God," portions of
them being proved to be no part of it. These portions, however, are
few, and do not aifect the truth of the Revelation at all, as every
thing which concerns our salvation, stands on an immovable founda¬
tion. Popularly speaking, therefore, these books may be called " The
Word of God, though more properly, " Records of the Word of God
We ought to expect some errors in books which are centuries old,
and have passed through so many hands, and I apprehend that the
best armory for the sceptic and infidel, have been the extravagant
claims of christians.* In interpreting the Bible we look at it thus:
Here is a book which professes to be a revelation from God. If by
the fair exercise of reason we think it probable that such a revelation
would have been given—that the world needed it—that it is in accor¬
dance with the character of God, we must believe it. We are to
judge, however, what is revealed, for ourselves, and not take as re¬
vealed, what any man or body of men say is revealed. Passages of
the English Bible, for instance, however expressly they may assert a
doctrine, may not be any part of Revelation, for they may be inter--
polatlons or mistranslations', or allowing that they are neither, the doc¬
trine which they inculcate, when strictly interpreted to the letter, may
be no part of Revelation. Thus the phrase, " Hate Father and Mo¬
ther," is not literally interpreted a part of Revelation. It would con¬
tradict other expressions repeated over and over again, to love and
honor Father and Mother. The meaning is, you must be willing to
resign your dearest possessions, if they prevent your being a true-
disciple of Christ, You must not love Father and Mother more than-
God, an injunction very necessary when given, as at that time to em--
brace Christianity was to make every earthly sacrifice. We may be*
sure that when a text literally interpreted contradicts the whole spirit
of the Bible, such interpretation is incorrect; but when by comparison
ofscriptureVith scripture, by the connexion'of apassage with the wholo
current of argument with which it stands, reason tells us thatüt teaches
tActs XX. 28, "To feed the church of God,'* &c. Dr. Griesbach, a Trinitarian,.,
whose edition of the Greek Testament is a standard authority, rejects this rendering
as spurious, and reads,—church of the Lord. That I. Tim. iii. lé, " God manifest in-
the flesh," with I. John, V. 7, were never cited by any ecclesiastical writer, befo re
the fifth or the 6th century, notwithstanding the vehemence with which the Arian
controversy was conducted, is a proof that these texts were not to be found in any
manuscripts then existing, and therefore that they are certainly spurious.'* See a
Tract " On the text of the Kew Testament," published by the American Unitarian
Association, p. 17.
*" Of the hundred and thirty thousand various readings which have been discover¬
ed by the sagacity and diligence of collators, not one tenth, nor one hundredth parV
make any perceptible, or at least any material variation in the sense." ib. p. 21^
8
a doctr-ine wholly at variance with its literal meaning, it is this doc¬
trine which we are to receive as Revelation. We are to prove it to
be the Book of God by the examination of what purports to be a Re*
velation, and to receive implicitly as Revelation that which commends
itself to the fair exercise of Reason. " To admit^' it has been said,
the Bible to be a Revelation from God, and at the same time to
erect our reason into a standard by which to determine the truth or
falsehood of what it contains, is of all conduct the most unphiloso-
phical and absurd."* But then we do not admit the Bible to be a
Revelation from God till we have exercised our reason upon it, to de¬
termine the truth or falsehood of what it contains- It is certainly a
singular argument to admit we that are to use our reason to determine
if the Scriptures are given by inspiration of God; but then we are not
afterwards to '^erect our reason into a standard to determine the truth
or falsehood of what they contain." This^ it is said, is absurd. Cer¬
tainly it is; because it is superfluous, for in determining whether the
Bible is a Revelation, we have been judging of the truth or falsehood
of what it contains, and having settled this, we have nothing to debut
to believe what v;e have found to be the truth or a Revelation from God.
*
The simple, and 1 trust not absurd creed of the Unitarian is, that
God has given us reason to direct us in our conduct and in the form¬
ation of our opinions. When required to believe any proposition, it
examines it and decides accordingly. By what else can we decide
than by our understandings? Do you say the word of God? But
this brings us back to the question, what is that word? And here we
are to take our own, and not another's convictions. We are not to
assume that the Bible is true, that God is its author, and because a
doctrine is prefaced with a " Thus saith the Lord," conclude that the
*Rev. Mr, FairchilJ's (of South Boston, Mass.) Sermon on" The Deity of Christ.*'
This gentleman shows the use of Reason in interpreting the Bible thus;
" W hat the eye is to the body. Reason is to the soul. The eye, though ever so
good, cannot set. without light, and Reason» though ever so perfect, cannot know
without Revelation, [evidence.] The eye, indeed, is that which sees, but light is the
cause of its seeing. Reason is that which knows, but Revelation [evidence] is the
cause of its knowing. It would be as absurd to make the eye give itself Hgnt, be¬
cause it sees by the light, as to make Reason give itself Revelation, [evidence,] be¬
cause it knows by Revelation, [évidence.] The figurative character of this lan¬
guage in which there is a general, but not a philosophical correctness, makes it liable
to be misunderstood. Thus he says, "what the eye is to tlfe body, reason is to the
soul ." The mistake here is, in making reason as distinct a thing from the soul, as
the souUs from the body. Reason is the mind in a certain state. It is incorrect to
say that the body sees, but perfectly correct to say the mind reasons. Change the
first line to " What light is to the eye, evidence is to reason," and read the sentence
with the words which I have substituted in brackets, and the reasoning is correct.—
I can go no farther with the writer, as he goes on to say, that " The phrase, light of
reason, is an imperfect one, since reason is not the light, but an organ for the light
to act upon;" or as we should say, " since reason is not evidence^ but only an organ
ÍOT evidence to act upon," we might as well find fault with the phrase "light of a
lamp," since the lamp is not the light, but only an organ for the light to act upon.—
ás no one would be So absurd as to say that the lamp gave itself light, so no Unitari¬
an is so absurd as to say that Reason gives itself evidence. It requires^ not ^ves.
•Lord taid it. Upon this principle we mu^t believe anj thing however
monstrous or absurd. We therefore examine its claims. If satisfíed
they are just, wo submit to them with the most profound submission.
^'Prostrate your proud reason," says the Trinitarian. And yet he hands
usan interpretation of the Bible, the result of the subtle and labori¬
ous exercise of his own Reason, or what is more, he hands us a creed,
in unscriptural language, of his own making, and says—Thus sailh
the Lord—Believe this, or you are an Infidel. We cannot submit to
such terms. The Bible we regard as an Inspired Book, and in the
sense in which it is thus represented, by an eloquent advocate of our
faith:* "Jf any one thinks it necessary to a reception of the Bible
as a revelation from God, that the inspired penmen should have writ¬
ten by immediate dictation; if he thinks that the writers were mere
amanuenses, and that word after word was ¡put down by instant sug¬
gestion from above; that the very style is divine and not human, that
the -style, we say, and the matters of style,—the figures, the meta¬
phors, the illustrations, came from the Divine mind, and not from hu¬
man minds, we say, at once, and plainly, that we do not regard the
Scriptures as setting forth any claims to such supernatural perfection
or accuracy of style. It is not a kind of distinction, that would add
any thing to the authority, much less to the dignity, of a communi¬
cation from heaven. Nay, it would detract from its.power, to deprive
it, by any hypothesis, of those touches of nature, of that natural pa¬
thos, simplicity, and imagination, and of that solemn grandeur of
thought, disregarding style, of which the Bible is full. Enough is it
for us that the matter is divine, the doctrines true, the history
authentic, the miracles real, the promises glorious, the threatenings
fearful. Enough that all is gloriously and fearfully true,—true to the
Divine will, true to human nature, true to its ;: ants, anxieties, sor¬
rows, sins, and solemn destinies. Enough, that the seal of a divine
and miraculous communication is set upon that Holy Book.
So we receive it. So we believe in it. And there is many a re¬
cord on those inspired pages, which he who believes therein would
not exchange,—no, he would not exchange it, a simple sentence
though it be, for the gathered wealth of a thousand worlds."
Having shown our ideas of the Bible, we come to our views of
God, of Christ, and The Holy Ghost,
We believe God to be a pure and infinite spirit, possessing every
good attribute in perfection, absolutely one, indivisible and unchange¬
able; the Creator, Moral Governor, and Supreme Ruler of the
Universe. We believe him to be worthy of our closest love, our un-
*ilev. Or?ilU Dewej.ot W. Y.
2
10
«
bounded reverence and adoration; that in all his arrangements in
Nature, Providence and Revelation, he has consulted our truest good.
We believe that he loves us with an infinite love, and that he seeks
to educate us for the most exalted purity and dignity, to give us a
happiness which passeth understanding, and an immortal life, where
we shall go on from strength to strength, and from glory to glory.—
We believe that he nearer to us than the atmosphere we breathe,
that as the Father of Lights, and the Father of our Spirits, he gives
food and strength to our understandings, and calls us to exercise our
reason reverently, upon just grounds, and with sincere and hearty love
of the truth. We believe, that he seeks to cultivate our best affec¬
tions, and to direct them to objects worthy of our lovef that he in¬
vites us to the reasonable indulgence of every innocent pleasures
that in making this iifé a state of discipline, he has not intended it
foi a state of penance, but has shed all over the spiritual world with-^
in, a brighter and purer sunshine, than he sheds over the natural
world without; That he calls us to unbosom freely to him all caro
and sorrow, and to lean upon him with unshaken confidence in the
darkest hours of this mortal life; that he looks with abhorrence upon
all sin, and has in every way consistently with our free agency, warned
us of its consequences, and give»-us a defence;-that he offers us
through a free, and not through a compulsory and purchased grace,
pirdon for oursins; that he is free from all the passions of his crea¬
tures, and not a vindictive being who requires an equivalent and sub¬
stitute in ihe person of a sinless being to appease his wrath, and make^
him placable, and give him full satisfaction for the sind of the world;
bul that he is essentially and unchangeable placable, in his own na¬
ture, and is abundantly able of himself to forgive sin upon hearty re--
pentence and reformation. Such are our views of God. "We wor¬
ship the Father,"Our Father," "The God and Father of our Lord
Jesus Christ."
We believe in Jesus Christ. Here, that my argument may have its*
fbrce, I must say, that we reject entirely the doctrine of two natures
in Christ. In the first place, because it is a mere assumption to get
rid of a difficulty—and its advocates do not pretend that it is any
thing more than an inference—but for a doctrine which is to us es¬
sentially incredib'e, and which at any rate, if true, is of vast impor¬
tance, we expect the most positive and unequivocal testimony. In
the sepond place, because it is impossible, consistently with the unity of
God, which unity is absolute. In the third place, because it impeaches
the voracity of our Savior. He used words in their usual acceptation,
not in a sense which neither the people of his age, nor of any rfge "
11
-could understand. He spoke intelligibly, or ha gave no revelation.
Now if he declared he had a Father when he had no Father, that this
Father was greater than himself, when in fact it was only himself, (and
of course a being cannot be greater than himself,) that he was sent
when'' he was not sent; if, moreover, his Apostles have spoken of
him, as he spake of himself, and never manifested any of that aston¬
ishment which it is incredible that they should not have manifested,
had they believed him to have been the Almighty God; if this is
true, and he stid was an infinite being, then words have no positive
signification, or the veracity of Christ is established by proof pecu¬
liar to itself. When a man says, I know a thing, it seems solemn
trifling to say that the pronoun I, means his whole, self, but we are
forced to do this, because our opponents deny it, when Christ thus
speaks of himself. If a man should go into any Court of justice, and
deny that he signed a deed, because in his capacity of Lawyer he
signed It, but not in his capacity of man, it would be decided, that if he
signed it at all, that signature included his whole self. And when
our Savior says without qualification, that he does not know a thing,
is it treating his character with respect to say, that he did know it as
man, but that he did not know it as God? This is adding to Scrip¬
ture, and to the most solemn part of Scripture, too.
We believe, then, in Jesus Christ, but we do not believe him to be
the self-existent, Supreme God; but what he says he is, and what the
writers of the New Testament say he is, *'The Son of God," "The
Holy One of God," "The Annointed of God," "The brightness of
his glory, and the image of his power," the most perfect manifest¬
ation which the world has seen of the attributes of God. We be¬
lieve that "he hath obtained a more excellent name than the angels,
yet we remember that however great he was, there was a greater still,
that whether he had two natures or not, he represents himself, and is
represented, as Inferior to the Father. He is "Judge of the World,"
but the Father hath committed all judgment unto the Son." "He has
all power in Heaven and Earth," but he says expressly, "All power
is given me in Heaven and Earth." We admit that the following is
very strong language, "Far above all principality, and power, and
might and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this
world, but also in that which is to come:" but strong as it is, it is
separated from its connexion, and when restored to it, a Being of more
power still under the title of "the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the
Father of glory," is represented "according to the waking of his
mighty power," to ^have "raised him from the dead, and set him at
bis own right hand in the heavenly places far above all principality,"
M
&:c. "and has put aîl thing« under his feel"—but the phrase "aUthings**
in immediately qualified by adding, "and him to be head over
all Ihiûgs, ioiÄe CAurcÄ, i. e. r.ot absolutely, but relatively "over all
things," all things relating to the Church, or Christian Dispensation.
He says that he was not Omniscient; "Of that day and that hour
knowetb no man, no, not the angels which are in heaven, neither tht
5on, but,the Father." (Mar-k, c. xiii. v. 32.) Consequently, if ho
wants this Attribute, he cannot be the all perfect God. We hear
him declare that he is circumscribed in his sphere, circumscribed in
his knowledge, circumscribed ii> his action; that he was an infant,
and grew in knowledge and in favor with God and man, that he ate,
drank, slept, suffered pain and fatigue, that he "prayed with agony,
with strong crying and tears," "Father if it he possible, let this cup
pass from me, nevertheless not m¡/ wjíZ/, (observe here that two dis^
tinct wills are spoken of,) but thine be done," all which is inconsistent
with his being the Supreme God.* We believe, nevertheless, that
he was a perfectly sinless being, andan all sufficient Satior; that his
mission was divine, his works divine, his teachings divine, his charac¬
ter divine, that he lived, labored, and offered up his precious Ufe on
the Cross, the just for the unjust—that "he gave himself for our sins,
that he migiit deliver us from this present evil world according to the
will of God." We dare not offer him Supreme worship, for he for¬
bade it, and directed us to ask the Father in his name. Such are
our views of Christ. We regard him as next only to God. Wo
bless him for the immense and disinterested sacrifices he has made for
us. We bless him for his spotless purity. We bless him that he has
made known to us the Father, given us a perfect rule of faith and
practice, and opened to us the gates of Heaven. We preach Christ
the Son of God. Christ—the way, the truth and the life. Christ—»
the Spiritual Messiah. We preach Christ crucified—the risen Sa¬
vior, who sittelh on the right hand of God, and shall come to judge the
quick and the dead.
Father is greater than I.*' (John, c. xiv. v. 23.) »*If I honor myself, my
honoris nothing; it is my Father who honoreih me." (lb. c. viii. v. 54.) ♦'Then
Cometh the end, when he (Christ) shall have delivered up the Kingdom to God,
even the Father—when he shall have put down ail rule, and all authority, and pow¬
er—For he (God) hath put all things under his feet. But when he saith all things
are put under him, it is manifest that he (God) is excepted, who did put all things
under him.
And when all things shall be subdued unto him, then shall the Son also himself be
subject unto him that put all things under him, that God may be all in alU* (I. Cor-
rin. c. XV. vv. 24-7-0.)
Do you say. and the Father are one?" It means nit identity of person, but of
spirit, purpose, &c. Read John, c. xvii. vv. 21-2-3. "That they (the Apostles) all
may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in
OS—that they may one even as we are one; I in thee, and thou in me, that they
eusij be made perfect in one.
13
We believe in the Holy Ghost, or as it should bo translated, Holy
Spirit, but notas a person. We are sometimes asked in derision, if
we can be baptised into an inßuence? Why not? Paul speaks oí
baptism into the death of Christ, and early Christian writers, of bap¬
tism into repentance, and the remission of sins. We would fain-
know, if there is any more absurdity in this, than in believing that a
person can be "poured out?" Sometimes, indeed, the Holy Spirit,,
stands for God himself, as the spirit of man stands for man himself—
butoftener it means that divine power of God, by which Christ and
the Apostles worked miracles, and placed Christianity on its everlast¬
ing foundations—that divine power, which breathed in all the Mas¬
ter's teachings and actions, which was shed abundantly upon him, his
apostles and disciples, and which is still shed abroad in the heart of
every true believer. For this most precious gift we pray. Without
it we feel that we are nothing and can do nothing. With it we can
rise on a seraph's wings to the throne of God.
Thus far we think we have the plain, unembarassed, current testi¬
mony of Scripture. We find not one of those terms which somo
Christians deem essential to express tJieir failli. We find no such
expressions as "God-man," "Triune God," "Holy, Blessed, and glo¬
rious Trinity, three persons and one God." They are to us wholly of
human invention, the words which man's wisdom teacheth, and not
which tiie Holy Spirit teacheth.
Our argument against the Trinity is a simple one. It is rightly
said that it is no argument against the existence of any thing, that it
is incomprehensible, or above our reason, and this is not our objec¬
tion to the Trinity, but that it is contrary to, and contradicts our rea¬
son. It is said that it is not contrary to reason to say that Christ can
possess a two-fold nature, can bo at the same time God and man. I
ask, if ho is God, is he not infinite? if he is map,, is he not finite?—
Can a person be at the same lime finite and infinite? Is not such an
assertion contrary to reason? It is said in other words, that there can
be a three-fold distinction in the Godhead, without involving the ab¬
surdity, that there are three Gods. We answer that this is impossible
except in this way. If it is meant simply that God exists in three
distinct modes, manners or manifestations, of which Jesus Christ is
one, this is Unitarianism, but at the same time a very loose way of
speaking; for there is no more reason for believing that God exists or
manifests himself in three modes than in three hundred, or three
thousand. But if it is said that these three distinctions are each
three intelligent beings, are each very God, are each equal, are each
distinct, then there are three Gods, and what is more, three finite Gods,
14
forlhere can be but one infinite God, and to say that Being is equal
to himself, is an absurdity. This threefold distinction in the Deity,
then, is contrary to reason.
But still it is affirmed "that they are not one and three in the same
sense, and therefore that it ¡s»as illiberal and unfounded to charge the
Trinitarian with believing in three Gods, as to charge him with believ¬
ing that soul and body united constitute two men." We answer that to
believe that Jehovah is one person and still three persons in any
sense, is to believe in three Gods; for what is meant by personality^
but the distinct separate existence of an intelligent being, and what
is this being, but an independent mind? If, then, there are three
persons, there are three beings, and if three beings, then three minds,
and if three minds, then three Gods.-^ Thus it follows irresistibly, that
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost cannot be in the same sense, one and
three—and to say that the finite is the infinite, is as absurd as to say that
body and soul united constitute two men. But it is said^that the mira¬
cle of turning water into wine, the union oT soul and body, that the Om¬
nipresence of God is as contrary to reason as the Trinity. But there is
no sort of analogy. These three instances are incomprehensible as to
the mode, but perfectly agreeable to reason as to the fact. We believe
on indisputable evidence, that Christ was gifted by God with super¬
natural power—that he should therefore turn water into wine, is per¬
fectly agreeable toreasen. We believe that the body and soul are
united. How^ we know not, but we can ascertain the properties of
each. We know that one acts, and the other is acted upon, that one
thinks, while the other is incapable of thinking- But here we assert
no contradiction. To make the cases equal we should show, that
every thing that may be predicated of the one, may be predicated of
the other, that although they are essentially different, they are one
and the same. This would be contrary to reason.
Then as regards the Omnipresence of God. How a being can be
every where, is above our reason, but not contrary to reason, for our
reason instructs us from the unity of plan in the physical and moral
world, that there is One Great First Cause. Any other supposition
involves us in absurdity at once. We have only to extend the idea
of a being who occupies limited space, to that of a being who occu¬
pies unlimited space. The idea is vast, but perfectly reasonable. It
involves no contradiction. But this is a very different thing from as¬
serting that a being can be Omnipotent, Omniscient, and Omnipres¬
ent, and at the same time circumscribed in his power, knowledge,
and sphere.
But it is said that we cannot prove that Jehovah cannot be tri-per-
15 ^ -J •
- t, ;:7
sonal, because e cannot reason about a düng-of-which we have no
ideas, and we have not ideas enough* of the nature of spirit to reason
about the mode of its existence.'* I answer in the first place, that
we neither wish, nor try to reason about any thing of which we have
no ideas, and in the second place, if we have no ideas of a tri-person-
al Deity, and therefore cannot prove that there is no such being, for
the same reason you cannot prove that there is one, for to prove, as
well as to disprove, you must have some ideas of one. Point us to
the passage which reveals the fact. We shall believe it. But if you
infer it, then you reason, and confessedly about a thing of which you
have no ideas, which upon your own supposition, is impossible.—
"Here is the Trinity," it is said, "and all you have got to do, is to
believe it," But this is the very point in debate. We ask for the
revealed factj that God exists in three persons. Show us from the"
Bible that, to use the words of the Athanasian creed, "the Father is
»
Almighty, the Son Almighty, and the Holy Ghost Almighty, and yet
there are not three Almighties, but one A}mighty," and we shall be¬
lieve it. We find not a trace of it. On the contrary, the New Tes¬
tament confirms to us on every page, the fundamental doctrine of the
Old, "Hear Oh Imel! The Lord our God is one Lord, and there is'
no other beside him."
Unitarians are charged with denying the Atonement, whereas they
only differ from their brethren of other denominations in the views^
which they take of it. Unreasonable stress is laid upon the word'
Atonement, but we must repeat what has been repeated a thousand''
limes before, that it occurs but once in the New Testament, and then-
as the translation of a word, which every where else, (and it occurs*
frequently,) is rendered reconciliation, and should have been so ren-'
deredliere. But let the word Atonement stand. We only insist
that it means the reconciliation of man to God, and not of God to'
man. We hold the Atonement as a prominent doctrine of christian
faith. We dare not say, indeed, that God could not have saved us in
any other way than through the mission and death of Christ, This-
we hold to be an unwise and unwarrantable ^ speculation. God has '
chosen way, and this fact ought to satisfy us, that it is ll^ best
way. We believe as 1 have said before, that it was not necessary to ■
appease God's wrath, to pay him a full equivalent—to satisfy a debt
which otherwise would not be forgiven—to make it "honorable'' for'
God to forgive sin.- This would make Christ, the being to be su-"
premely loved, and not "the God and Father of Christ." But wo re--
ceive the Atonement through the free Grace of God.
But says the objector, in a tone which docs not always sound to u»?
like affectionate^exlMtaAStt^^Àio you'willing to take for your Savioi
•*a more creature?*' I answer that I am willing to take for my SaWoi
any body whom a perfectly wise and good God thinks proper to ap¬
point, and as Christ is the first born of the creation of God, and not ti
celf-existent being, I am willing to take mere creature," that is, a
creature who is God's noblest work for my Savior. It seems to me ar
Togantand impious to demand as the condition of my faith and obedi¬
ence, "an infinite substitute," or an infinite any thing.
In plain English, divested of that peculiar religious phraseology, in
which this doctrine is frequently clothed and rendered meaningless to
thousands, a man is reconciled to God, when from "living without God
in the world," that is, forgetting and disobeying him, "he liveth unto
God," loves him, and obeys him—and he "receives the atonement thro^
Jesus Christ," when by reflecting upon all that Christ has done foi
him he becomes his disciple, has his spirit, and follows his example
and teachings. The "blood of Christ" tolls him of the voluntary
sufferings of Christ for the good of the world, and appeals irresistibly
40 the heart, when he thinks how pure were the motives of such noble
philanthropy. He believes that the blood of Christ "speaketh bettei
things than the blood of Abel." We can all adopt the language ol
Paul, when he says, ^"If the blood of bulls and goats sanctifieth to the
purifying of the, flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ, who
through the Eternal Spirit, offered himself without spot to God, purge
cur conscience from deadVorks, to serve the living God." It is enough
Tor us that Christ not only lived but died for us. We look upon his
death as the most touching expression of his love for us, as the crown¬
ing act of a sinless life, as a seal of the divinity of his mission, and ol
the most sublime disinterestedness. But in preaching "Chist crucifi¬
ed," we do not believe that the mere act of his expiring on the cross
is the sum and substance-of Christianity, or that there is any mysteri¬
ous efficacy in the flowing of his blood. We think that that which is
10save us, is the united efficacy of his teachings, his works, his char¬
acter and his death, which last event gives to ail the other means oí
salvation, a stronger influence. Mere pathetic discourses upon his
crucifikfion, is not what we believe Paul meant by preaching ^*Chrisl
crucified," but the faithful exhibition of his character and his religion,
t in all its height, and depth, and length, and breadth. It is preaching
not simply Jc^us nailed to the cross, but the being who was nailed to
the cross, with all that he has done for human salvation. We go to
tbe cross to have our hearts touched with the compassion of the divine
•sufferer, and we come away with our faith an hundred fold strength-
-^ned in his own faultless character, and that of his religion. Ws
17
gather round the table of his dying lovC) and partake of its precious
emblems, without any superstitious awe, but in grateful remembrance
of him, and feci that the whole universe is poor, in comparison with
the gift of the Son of God-
The next point of difference, relates to the depravity of man.—
We reject the doctrine of total depravity. We do not believe as the
creeds say, that man is wholly inclined to all sin, and wholly dis*
inclined to all goodness« We do not believe as the Standards of the
Presbyterian Church tell us, that "all mankind by the fall, lost com¬
munion with God, are under his wrath and curse, and liable to the
pains of hell forever." We are shocked with such representations.
We have not so learned Christ. We believe in no imputed sin, be¬
cause such a thing is in itself impossible. We are answerable for
our own sins, and our own only. "The righteousness of the right¬
eous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be
upon him." (£zek. xviii. c. v. 20.) If a man is totally depraved, he
is as bad as bad can be, and if totally depraved by nature, an infant
of a day, is as bad as bad can be. Now if Moses, or even Paul
taught this doctrine, (which we conceive they never thought of) in
opposition to the teachings of Christ, we should follow the Great
Teacher, who says, "Of such is the kingdom of God." Indeed, so
repugnant is this doctrine to the best feelings of its advocates, that
they nullify it by saying, that those who die in infancy, are first mi¬
raculously regenerated. This is an assertion. There is no proof of
it. The presumption is against it, for I ask is it probable that God
would bring an infant into the world knowing tliat it would remain but
a few days or hours, and then miraculously regenerate it, to save it
from "everlasting burnings?" Another modem explanation is, that
^'infants are destitute of holiness." This is Unitaiianism, for we be¬
lieve that the child comes into the world innocent, gbut without any
moral character, and cannot be a moral and accountable agent, till
he can make moral distinctions. It depends upon circumstances,
upon education, what the character of a child will be, but as the
senses and appetites are gratified long before the spirit is educated,
or susceptible of religious impressions, children are more prone to
form sinful than virtuous habits. Appetites, innocent in themselves,
are indulged till they become sinful, and thus they slide into vice
without effort. All children, sooner or later, fall into sins, sins of
passion, of falsehood, of disobedience,- but much is attributed toan
evil disposition, which should be set down to an excess of animal
spirits, and it is impossible to say for some time, when their actions *
are positively sinful. What is sin? Sin is the transgression of a known
3
18*
law. ^'Without llie law," says Paul, "there is no transgression."—^
Pefore then you can pronounce the child a sinner, you must be sure
\
tliat he knows the law.
Paulis not speaking of Christians, but of the heathen world when
he says, "all are gone out of the way." He intends by aiZ, what the
Evangilist intended, when he said, "all Jerusalem" went out to see
Jesus, viz. a great multitude. Besides, both the Jewish and Heathen
world were at that time remarkably corrupt, and moreover, we hear
of "devout" Jews and Gentiles, who were not as yet converts to
Christianity.
No body doubts that there is much sin in the world—not natural^
but acquired sin. Our civil, religious, and benevolent institution»
imply it. We should want no locks on our doors, and no prisons if
there were no sin. We are not blind or deaf, that we do not hear and
see shocking depravity—men indulging the passions of demons, ut¬
tering horrible profaneness and blasphemy, and "glorying in their
shame." That most fearful of all sights, a thoroughly bad man's
heart, we have never seen, and it is in mercy that we cannot look
down into that fathomless gulph of horror and despair. "God hath
made man upright, but he has sought out many inventions." He
brought him into the world with a bosom as stainless as snow, but
against light and love, he has chosen to soil that bosom with sin, and
turn it into "a cage of ^unclean birds." If man were made totally
corrupt, if he could not help his condition, we should pity him, but
we could not find it in oiir hearts to condemn him. Before his
Maker we should tremble with horror. On the Unitarian ground no
plea of invincible necessity to sin can be made. His sihs are acqui¬
red. His blood is upon his own head. Woe unto him if he will sin.
Our system in this respect, we think infinitely truer and stricter than
the popular one. It leaves the sinner no excuse.
And this brings me'to the subject of Regeneration. . The modern
doctrine of Regeneration naturally sprang out of the doctrine of to¬
tal depravity. These doctrines have been made to prove each other.
Having established the latter, it was very natural to apply such phra¬
ses as "You must be born again," "If any man be in Christ, he is a
new creature," to prove the former, or else taking such passages by
themselves to prove by implication the latter. Thus if man is total¬
ly depraved, it is clear that he must be totally unable to help himself,
and must be miraculously regenerated. But the peculiar phraseolo¬
gy of Scripture upon this subject was originally applied to converts
from Paganism and Judaism to Christianity. It may however be ap¬
plied to all men without exception. It is not, however, such remark-
19
^ble phraseology as some imagine. We use similar language our¬
selves. We say of any remarkable change in our views and {feelings,
that we are in "a new world.'* And when a man has reformed gene¬
rally, or from any particular habit, we say he is a different being, he
is new man." Our progress in spiritual knowledge, is analogous
to our progress in human knowledge. We have continually new
views. Our minds are enlarged—our hearts are enlarged, and in
comparison with the savage, or with what we were when our educa¬
tion began, we are born again and enjoy a diviner life, and you^may
as well say that we have got a new mind, as say we have got a new
heart. We have no new faculty superinduced, but our original facul¬
ties called out, actively employed, and more worthily directed.
We all need a moral change, precisely to the degree that we are
imperfect christians. We must all be born from the outward world
of sense, into the inner world of spirit, from the world of ignorance,
into the world of light; from the world of sin, into the world of ho¬
liness; or as Paul beautifully expresses it, "from the empire of dark¬
ness, into the new empire, the kingdom of God's dear Son." As
Christians, we must see with other eyes, and hear with other ears.—
All do not need the same change. Some, they are few indeed, have
had such a perfect religious education, and have always been so re¬
ligiously inclined, that they are sensible of no extraordinary change,
and have need of none. They have never had a preference for sin,
and cannot tell when they began to be christians. The fact is, they
began from their cradles. They grew up in a good home, and the re¬
ligious principle, an inherent and indestructible part of our constitu¬
tion, was carefully fostered, and as faculty after faculty expanded,
every one good in itself, it was educated to its right office. Habits of
industry, love of truth, generous affections, noble aims, were gradu¬
ally formed, and they came out from the narrow circle of home, into
the world at large, examples, bright and beautiful examples of the
natural development of man. Now a radical change of tlieir hearts,
would be for the worse; From holiness to depravity. I say not that
they are perfect, that they never have, and never will commit sin.
No doubt they have sinned frequently, sinned greatly, and will sin
again; but I say they have had no preference for sin, but a strong
hearty preference for virtne. They need something more it is true.
They are in danger of going on too quietly in their christian path,
of being sluggish and cold, and thinking too little of progress. The
"'change they need is "forgetting tlie things which arc behind," and
pressing forward to perfection.
There is another class who have a more mixed character. They
20
iiave many virtues, but they have also some besetting sins. Now ikey
must leave off these sins, and radically chango where they need it.—
Here the change will be infinitely diversified; for it embraces a vast
variety of character, under a vast variety of circumstances.
There are some who are by no means great sinners, but who from
feeble health, are in a moment of excitement thrown from their mental
balance, and make themselves perfectly miserable by straining after a
dreamy and impossible piety. They need less a change of heart,
than the care of a physician.
Another and a large class are so decidedly bad, that they need a
thorough change in all their views and feelings. Their thoughts,
their conversation, their life must be completely altered. And how
is this change to be effected? Not by any arbitraty interposition of
God, without their own efforts; but in the first place, by a convic¬
tion on their own part that they need this change, and then generally
by a very slow, laborious, and painful struggle. I say not that in
some extreme cases, this change may not be very sudden. I deny
not the possibility of miiaculous change. But such a change is not
promised, and to wait for it is a fatal delusion. The conversation of
a friend, a powerful sermon, a solemn event of Gods providence,
may so impress such persons that they may forthwith repent, and re¬
solve to reform. There is great mistake upon this subject. Persons
who have been long great sinners, are very suddenly in great distress
about their spiritual condition. They join a church, their friends
say ^Hhey have experienced religion," they have "got a new heart.**
Now no doubt these people are very anxious, very much shocked at
their sins, and have a "fearful looking for of judgment." This is very
natural and very right. Their joining a church is a natural obliga¬
tion, which every man born in a christian land is under by birth, for ^
we are all under obligations to use all the means which Christianity
prescribes. But it takes a great while to be very devout. Such
persons have got two things to do, to leave off bad habits, and form
new ones. Often after joining a church, they are found no better
than before. And why? They "fall away." Not from a religious
character, that they never had, but from good resolutions, and feeble
exertions. When a man then feels for the first time the supreme
importance of religion, let not him or his friends proclaim his re¬
markable experience, his change of heart; which is only puffing him
up with religious pride, and leading many to think, that when a man
becomes a christian, he becomes a very offensive man.
Í Let them rather be greatly anxious, lest he fall awáy. Let them
feel that the work is only begun, and that it must be followed up by
21
constant watchfulness, by the diligent use of ordinary means, such
as prayer,reading the Scriptures, meditation, and seeking light from
every quarter. Let it not be said, this is relying upon "one's own
merits." It js relying on the free grace of God, who gave the means.
They are perfectly natural means. Without them we have no reason
to look for regeneration.
Many of the remarkable conversions, of which we hear, and of
which we do not doubt, may safely be attributed to natuaal causes.
To the reflecting christian, God is always speaking impressively, and
the reason why the sinner is aflected occasionally, and of a sudden
so powerfully, is not because the present cause is more impressive,
than a thousand things which have passed before his eyes, but be¬
cause he happens to be in a conditition more open to impression.—
The mind is often thrown into a state of irritable excitement, by
moral causes, or the condition of the physical system. The irregular
life of an irreligious man, exposes him peculiarly to this, and in such
moments it takes very little to affect him deeply—and the bitter tears
and sharp agony of remorse, are the natural fruits of a mind always
perhaps sensitive, and now made acutely so, by a life, every step of
which was preparing him for this inevitable retribution, when once
thrown completely upon himself. These are not, I think, supernatural
visitations. That God breaks in as it were, upon the usual course of
events in the moral as well as in the material world, I doubt not;
for we all n.eed to be roused from the sluggishness we are apt to fall
into in the unchanging routine of daily life. But these changes are
only a few out of innumerable means to educate us for Heaven.—
They produce their best impression upon the religious mind, and if
they occasionally reclaim the bad, they are apt to produce an unnat¬
ural distorted piety, immeasurably inferior to that formed by the or¬
dinary discipline of life.
One principal difficulty upon this subject, is owing to a mistake
with regard to the philosophy of our natures. We believe that we
are born into this world with all the elements for the formation of the
religious character, and that no new faculties are afterwards super*
added. Education developes these original elements, and forms the
character. But many confound two distinct things, the religious
principle, which is born with us, and the religious character, which is
an acquisition of our own. Conscience is as much a part of us, as
the thinking principle, and conscience is a religious principle. Now
some are religious at this, and some at that period of life, but the
mind was not framed, nor was the constitution of things framed for
a partial education, but for one to begin in infancy ^and proceod by
22
regular gradations thiough the different periods of this mortal life,
and we are prepared for Heaven, and shall enjoy Heaven, in propor¬
tion as these different periods of life are educated to their respec¬
tive offices. When a person suddenly becomes religious at any age,
it does not follow that he has a new nature, or a new faculty. But
" he has that nature in active exercise, and true to itself. If a person
becomes religious at 20, or at 80, his regeneration cannot without a
miracle, give him that perfection of character, which a steady pro¬
gress in virtue gives. The seasons for ^certain religious habits and
dispositions preparatory to subsequent periods of life, are gone by.—
He may repent, reform, and be saved; but he has lost irrecoverably
the opportunities for a thorough religious education here, and his re¬
ligious experiences must be very different from those of the just,
whose path ^'shines brighter and brighter, unto the perfect day." If
this reasoning be true, then that character only is naturally developed,
that is, is developed according to the intention of this probationary
state, which is educated from the first religiously, and the subsequent
formation of the religious character, must be an unnatural^ imperfect
development, in proportion as those periods of life which have their
appropriate duties are wasted in sloth, or in things whose aim and end
is this world; and this is true, whether it is through misfortune, that
is, through the force of circumstances, or criminal, that is, through
choice-
Again, Unitarians believe in a .future state of righteous retribu¬
tion; that our future happiness or misery depends upon the charac¬
ters we form here. We think that the safe ground is not to be found
in nice speculations upon the exact character or duration of future
punishment. The terms in which retribution is spoken of in the
Bible, are various and figurative; sometimes as death, sometimes as a
worm that dietb not, sometimes as a fire that is not quenched. There
seems to us great wisdom in thus presenting the subject. It is suit¬
ed to the characters of different persons. Some are so earthly in all
theirconceptions, that nothing but the coarsest representations, noth¬
ing but the belief in a literal hell-fire, will move them. Others are
moved by more refined, but equally strict and appalling views. It is
enough to believe, that the happiness of the good, and the misery of
the wicked, are described by Christ and his AposUes, as great be¬
yond expression, and beyond conception. It is enough to believe,
that we "shall be judged by that man whom God hath ordained,"—
that "we shall all stand before the judgment seat of Christ, to be
judged according to the deeds done in the body." On this founda¬
tion we rest securely. If others wish to go farther than this, we
23
shall not condemn them. We only think that they go farther than
the Bible; and that they are not justifíed in denying to others the
Christian name, who will not go with them.
Finally, we believe that "without holiness no man shall see the
Lord,"—that sin is the only real evil. It is sin which throws gloom
and wretchedness over the world, which poisons individual and social
happiness, and eateth into the heart as doth a canker. It is sin
which dries up all true affection, diseases our views of every thing,
destroys our taste for rational pleasures and pursuits, and destroys all
dignity, and worth of characten No suffering is to be compared to
this. Poverty, sickness, misfortune in its most terrific forms, is bles¬
sedness compared to a soul sunk in sin. Respected, trusted, belov¬
ed in this world, such a man cannot be,and if he believes in another,
there comes over him at times, "a fearful looking for of judgment."—
He may call upon the rocks and mountains to cover him, and they
may cover him from the eyes of man, but an eye will burn upon hinv
still, though he seek shelter under all the rocks and mountains in the
Universe. The body may be scattered to the four winds of Heaven,
but the soul mwíí live, live amidst the unutterable torments of its
own consciousness. God be merciful to us sinners! God of his infi¬
nite mercy save us from the sinner's doom.
Such is our faith. Need I say, then, that we believe in the truth,
and supreme importance of the Christian religion. We believe in the
Omnipotence and blessedness of its truths. We believe that it falls
upon the human mind ray by ray, and that it will finally fill the world
with its glory. We believe that it falls upon the human heart as the
English Dramatist says of Mercy:
•'It droppeth as'the gentle rain from Heaven,
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes."
In addressing a congregation composed of different denominations,
I cannot expect that what! have said will satisfy all minds, but I trust
it will lead all to a more intelligent and charitable conclusion of the
the faith of Unitarians. We see truth through different mediums.—
We have been instructed in different schools, and the scales will not
entirely fall from our eyes, till "this mortal has put on immortality, and
this corruptible incorruption." Then I trust we shall see God and
the Lamb face to face, and know even as we are known.
It is pleasant to turn from things in which we differ, to things in
which we agree. You are a Trinitarian; I am a Unitarian. You be¬
lieve in One God, the Creator and Moral Governor of the Universe;
so do 1. You believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God and Savior of
the world—that "there ia no other name given under heaven by which
we can be saved so do L You believe in the Spirit of God, that
must seek the influences of his spirit, and that without them we can¬
not lead a holy life; so do I. You believe in the absolute necessity
of strict holiness of thought, word and deed, of using all the means
God has given us—of seeking all the light we can get, and then act¬
ing up to it; so do I. You believe in Heaven and Hell, in judgement
and Eternity. So do I. Here is an essential unity. Let us not
quarrel about points not so essential, in which we conscientiously differ.
Do you now ask, "Which is the true Church?" I answer, Not the
Episcopal church, not the Presbyterian church, not the Baptist church,
not the Methodist church, not the Unitarian church,* but the good in
all these churches. All who live under the light of nature or under
the more blessed light of Revelation. The child of the Ganges, who
worships the glorious river, and finds healing in its waters. He who
adores the Sun in his Majesty, and he who cries out for help to The
Great Father, and whose dying eyes are lit up with the hope of hunt¬
ing again in the Spirit land.—All—^all are the children of God, who
live up to the light which god gives them. All are members of the
Church Universal, of that vast temple which the broad skies cover,
and the broad earth sustains, and whose doors open into the illimita¬
ble Heaven.
*Itinay be interesting to a stranger to know that although Alton, as a place of
any commerce, is not three years old, all the above named denominations are repre¬
sented. There are two Presbyterian Societies, 2 Methodist,! Baptist, 1 Episcopa¬
lian, 1 Lutheran, 1 Unitarian. The three former have erected good houses of wor¬
ship, and the Baptists having disposed of their house to one of the Methodist So¬
cieties, have a large and beaut)fnl church nearly finished. The Episcopalians and
Unitarians, will probably build in the spring or summer.
It is due to the Methodist society to s^, that they are not at all responsible for the
views advocated by the Author of this Sermon iu their church. With great kind¬
ness they gave us the use of it several Sundays, in the afternoon, when they were
not using It themselves, as we could find no other place to worship in, owing to the
crowded state of the town.
AN ABSTRACT
OF
THE UNITARIAN BELIEF,
IN
TWO DISCOURSES
DELIVERED TO THE
SECOND CONGREGATIONAL SOCIETY
IN NANTUCKET.
BY THEIR PASTOR,
HENRY F. EDES.
PRINTED, BUT NOT PUBLISHED.
IJoston:
PRINTED BY FREEMAN AND BOLLES, WASHINGTON STREET.
1836.
The occasion which led to the printing of the following Discourses, will
be made known by the following letter :
Dear Sir,
We haye been requested, by a large number of your congregation, to
ask a copy for the press of your Discourses delivered on the evenings of
the 6th and 13th inst.
In thus representing the wishes of others, allow us to add our own im¬
pressions that the publication of the Discourses will have a tendency to
I
remove the erroneous opinions respecting the Unitarian faith, however
disseminated, which exist to some extent in this community.
Tours very respectfully,
William Coffin, Jr.
Paul Mitchell, Jr.
Nantucket, March 22, 1836. George B. Upton,
As the motive which originally induced me to write and preach these
sermons was the same with that presented in the above communication as
a reason for printing them, that they would have a tendency to remove
the erroneous opinions respecting the Unitarian faith, which exist to some
extent in this community," it seemed to me that I ought not to hesitate
to put them in a form in which they might possibly further the object for
which they were written.
Nothing but the hope that they might do some good, by correcting erro¬
neous impressions, by causing Unitarian views to be better understood, by
showing that these views have a solid foundation in the Scriptures, could
have induced me to print them ; they were originally prepared with no
such expectation.
It is hardly necessary to say—for the fact is implied in the very nature
of my subject—that I have not attempted to advance thoughts and opinions
of my own ; no farther, at least, than as they are coincident with those of
the denomination of Christian believers to which I belong. As it is my
object to give an abstract of the Unitarian belief—so have I been obliged
to present the sentiments—and have deemed it best, in many instances, to
give the very language of the authorities to which I have referred.
With these remarks the accompanying Discourses are now submitted to
those, at whose instance they have appeared in their present form—and
with the sincere desire that they may promote, in some degree, at least, the
important object mutually contemplated by us.
H. F. Edes.
Nantucket, April 5, 1836.
DISCOURSE.
2 CorintbianS) iv. 13.
WE ALSO BELIEVE, AND THEREFORE SPEAK.
The object of this discourse, is to present, in as
condensed form as possible, an abstract of the Uni¬
tarian belief. And I bring this subject before you at
the present time, not because I am an advocate of
the utility of controversial discussions from the pulpit ;
not because I wish to stand up as the champion of a
sect ; not because I wish to show that my religious
belief is right, and my neighbor's wrong. It may be
laid down as a general rule, (at all events it is one
by which I regulate my own practice,) that the less a
clergyman has to do with polemical discussions, the
better. It seems a sad mistake for him who has the
great topics of " temperance, righteousness, and
judgment to come," to deal with, to waste his own
and his people's time in setting forth and defending
a creed ; in showing—or attempting to show—that
this doctrine is true, and that that doctrine is false ;
that this opinion is damning error, while that is soul-
saving truth. I can think of nothing more ill-judged.
6
more pernicious, than this plan of taking oíF people's
thoughts from their interior selves, from their religious
state, to fix them on their religious opinions; this
virtual substitution of opinions for practice ; of a
creed, for a life ; of a form of doctrine, for a state of
the character ; this making religion as it were a
matter of intellect, when all reason and all scripture
go to show that it is a state of the heart, a rule of
life. But are doctrines, opinions, of no importance
then? Far be it from me to say that they are not.
They are the solid foundation on which the Christian
character must necessarily rest. But what are these
doctrines? Suffice it to say that they are few, sim¬
ple, plain, intelligible ; that they are such as are
received, and reverenced by the sincere and pure of all
sects ; received, it is true, with various modifications;
still received, received in substance. Now the mis¬
take upon which I would animadvert, is that of mak¬
ing these modifications, or explanations of the great
fundamental Christian doctrines, religious tests ; the
setting them up, not only as standards of the sound¬
ness of an individual's Christian creed, but also of his
Christian character.
If there are those who are sincere and conscien¬
tious in doing this—all that those who differ from
them can do, is to desire and pray that the time
may come when their erroneous views—as they must
consider them—will give place to a more just, and
comprehensive spirit ; a spirit more accordant with
7
the precepts and the example of the great Founder
of our faith.
Thus much I have wished to say, respecting the
general utility of controversial discussions from the
pulpit. For my own part, I am willing to leave
them to those who rate their efficacy higher than I
can possibly do, who think their particular form of
religious belief indispensable, or next to indispensa¬
ble to salvation. In saying this, let me not be
thought to undervalue that form of belief which goes
under the name of Unitarianism. Believing it to
present an exposition of Christian truth, more accor¬
dant than any other with the Scriptures ; believing it,
moreover, better adapted than any other, to a sound
and healthy development of the Christian character,—
I value it as I do that religion with which to me it is
synonymous. As an important auxiliary to the grand
object of all religion, the formation of the Christian
character, I would, on all fit times and occasions, bring
it forward; but, let me repeat, as an auxiliary; as a
means to an end ; and not, by itself considered, as
the only road to happiness and heaven ; for me-
thinks they are strangers to the spirit of Christianity,
who are unwilling to admit that in all the modes and
forms in which it has existed, from Roman Catholi¬
cism down to Universalism, the spirit and temper
which Christianity requires, and without which
creeds are but chaff, have failed to be exhibited.
My object, then, at this time, is not to propose and
8
advocate Unitarianism as that system of belief by
which alone we can be saved ; but simply and solely
to state what it is ; to prove, if I can, that it compre¬
hends all the important articles of belief taught in the
Bible, and believed by other sects. And I attempt
this, because such an exposition seems to be called
for. Here, as elsewhere, gross ignorance obtains on
this subject ; here, as elsewhere, there are those
who sit in judgment on Unitarianism, who do not
know what it means. Here, as elsewhere, that mode
of attack—very common of late—is employed, of
throwing out certain vague allegations, which, al¬
though they are utterly untrue and incapable of proof,
are excellently well adapted to make an unfavorable
impression on the popular mind; on the many—too
many such there are—who are willing to receive
their impressions, not from the books, the sermons,
the works of Unitarians themselves, but from the
representations of those who are unfriendly to them.
To illustrate what I mean, I recently took up a book,
in which Unitarianism was spoken of as "twm wan¬
dering star with infidelity"—an assertion as unfair as
it is untrue—but very well devised (as undoubted¬
ly the individual knew who wrote it,) to awaken pre¬
judice against this system, or fasten it, if it already
existed. And so nothing is more common than for
people to say. Unitarians do not believe in a Savior ;
Unitarians do not believe in Regeneration ; Unitari¬
ans do not believe in a hell. Unitarians do believe
9
in a Savior ; they do believe in regeneration ; they
do believe in a hell ; they do believe in these, and in
every other important doctrine and truth contained
in the Bible ; and this, Avith as sincere a faith, as their
fellow Christians who differ from them.
And my object at the present time is to prove this
assertion. I feel myself called upon to do what I can
to correct current erroneous impressions. If people
choose to condemn our views of Christian truth, I
would beseech them, in all fairness and justice, to
ascertain first what they are ; to be sure, before they
denounce certain doctrines and opinions, as apper¬
taining to Unitarianism, that Unitarians would not con¬
demn them as unqualifiedly as themselves. There¬
fore it is that I enter into this discussion; and not
because it is the subject which of all otheis^^Ä
would choose to bring before you at this time, and
in this place.
One word more. Let it be borne in mind, that in
speaking of the religious opinions of Unitarians, re¬
gard will be had only to those who have read, and
thought, and written on this subject ; that I do not
pretend to give the views of all who go to a Unita¬
rian church ; since there can be no doubt that among
them, as among those who compose all our religious*
congregations, of all denominations, there are many
whose notions of the doctrines of Christianity are
altogether vague and ill-defined ; or, if not so, are
received, (which is almost the same thing), on the
2
10
authority of their religious teachers, and not as the
result of faithful and impartial study of the Scriptures.
I shall endeavor to present an abstract of their sen¬
timents, who " have believed, and therefore have
spoken and spoken, with the sincerity and confi¬
dence inspired by a belief founded on the prayerful
investigation and study of the sacred writings.
The first and fundamental article of the Unitarian
belief, may be expressed in these words of the Apos¬
tle, " To us there is hut one God^ the Father." (1 Cor.
viii. 6). We believe that there is one God ; a God
infinite in power, and infinite in perfection ; who has
been from the beginning, and who ever shall be ; by
whom the worlds were created, and are sustained ;
on whom we, and all creatures depend for life and
and all things. But " to us there is not only
one God," but that God is " the Father"—and in
this proposition—stated in the very language of an
apostle though it be—is contained the prominent
peculiarity of our faith. As we believe in one God,
so do we believe that he who in the New Testament
is revealed to us as our Father, is the only being to
whom this title can be lawfully ascribed. We be¬
lieve that the Father, and the Father alone, is God ;
'that he is the only proper object of religious worship.
We believe that God is essentially, entirely, strictly,
one ; " one being, one mind, one person, one intel¬
ligent agent, and one only, to whom underived and in¬
finite perfection belong." And here is found, as I
11
have already said, the distinctive feature of our be¬
lief. All that properly constitutes Unitarianism, may
be expressed in the words of the Apostle already
quoted—a belief in " one God, the Father." Every
believer in the divine origin and authority of the sys¬
tem promulgated by Jesus Christ, who receives this
truth—no matter what his opinions on other points
of Christian doctrine—is an Unitarian. This name
has acquired, in our times, a more extended meaning
than strictly belongs to it ; and is expressive of the
religious sentiments, generally, of that denomination
of Christians who have adopted it, in which latitude
of meaning it will be used in this discourse. We be¬
lieve, (to return), that the doctrine here stated, is
the doctrine both of the Old and New Testaments.
Of the former the prevailing language in reference to
this subject, is, "Hear 0 Israel, the Lord our God
is one Lord." (Deut. vi. 4). , " Remember the for¬
mer things of old ; for I am God, and there is none
else; I am God, and there is none like me." (Isaiah
xlvi. 9). " Have we not all one Father, hath not
one God created us." (Malachi ii. 10). Not to
quote more passages—we believe that the whole
tenor of Jewish Scripture is incompatible with any
other idea respecting the Great Supreme, than the
simple and grand one which we have already stated—
his strict, his perfect unity. We believe it impossi¬
ble that in any other or different form, it should ever
have presented itself to a single Jewish mind. And
12
when we turn to the Revelation of Jesus Christ, we
believe that we have confirmation of this truth in
every page and line ; that if there is a single doc¬
trine clearly stated, and constantly recognised by
Christ and his apostles—it is that comprehensively
stated in the words of Paul, "to us there is but one
God, the Father, of whom are all things, and we in
him ; and one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all
things and we by him." (1 Cor. viii. 6). And when,
in a solemn prayer addressed by our Savior to his
Father, we read these memorable words, " This is
life eternal, that they might know thee the only true
God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent," (John
xvii. 3), we place our finger on this passage, and
ask how the doctrine which we believe could be more
unequivocally, more satisfactorily, more strongly
stated, and in a connexion better adapted to satisfy
us that he who believes this, believes—so far as mere
belief goes—enough. Let it suffice to say, then—for
we must hasten on—that we are satisfied to take the
language of an Apostle on this subject for our creed,
" To us there is but one God, the Father.'^
As the doctrine of the divine unity thus seems to
us proclaimed in Scripture—so also is it taught, as
we think, by all the outward and visible creation.
The great central truth, every where written in the
1
volume of nature, uttered by all her thousand
tongues, taught in all her processes, changes, phe¬
nomena, is, God is one ; one person ; one infinite
13
Spirit, " above all, through all, in all." When we
survey creation, the earth on which we live, the
heavens above us,—among all the numberless marks
of contrivance, design, skill, and power, which they
exhibit,—we observe a singleness of contrivance, an
unity of design, a oneness, an harmony, which to¬
gether do not, to our minds, more unequivocally an¬
nounce the existence, than they do the unity, of God.
And furthermore, we rest in this truth, because,
added to all that has already been said in its sup¬
port, it is adapted to the human understanding, and
accordant with human reason. We believe that a
revelation avowedly addressed to the understanding
by a Being of infinite goodness, would, in all essen¬
tial respects, be adapted to that understanding ; that
we should be required to receive no doctrine as fun¬
damental, which was in direct contradiction to those
faculties to which all Scripture is addressed, and by
which, to be available to any practical use, it must
be understood. We cannot think, to use the strong
language of another, that God " would put an ever¬
lasting stumbling-block before the portals of his spir¬
itual kingdom;" that he would require of us, as
indispensable to our salvation, acquiescence—I do
not say in what is incomprehensible to reason—but
✓
in what is at direct variance with it.* No such re¬
quisition, as we believe, is contained in the Scrip^
* The doctrine of the Trinity is called, by its advocates, an incomprehen¬
sible mystery j thus would they, if possible, withdraw it from the jurisdic-
14
tures ; and we could not thus believe, were we per¬
suaded that they gave such a representation of the
Deity, as that while his unity Was expressly and re¬
peatedly asserted in line upon line, and precept upon
precept—that unity was virtually destroyed by the
y
doctrine any where taught on its pages, of three co¬
equal persons, each endowed with all divine attri¬
butes, each equally objects of worship, each equally
God, and yet, collectively, constituting but one God.
To US---I say it not in any spirit of reproach or dis¬
respect to those who believe it, but as the statement
of what seems to us a simple and obvious truth—to
tioQ of reason, and shut up the mouths of those who object to it on the
score of its repugnance to reason.
But " to talk of an incomprehensible meaning, if we use the word ^ in¬
comprehensible * in a strict sense, is to employ terms, which in themselves
express an absurdity. It is the same sort of language, as if we were to
speak of an invisible illumination. The meaning of a sentence is the
ideas which it Is adapted to convey to the mind of him who reads or
hears it. But if it be capable of conveying any ideas, that is, if it have
any meaning, it is merely stating the same fact in other terms, to say that
those ideas are capable of being received and understood,
" No one will deny that there are many truths incomprehensible by us ;
which are above reason, or, in other words, which are wholly out of the
grasp of our present faculties. But these truths cannot .be expressed in
human language. Nor, while our faculties remain what they are, can
they be in any way revealed to us. To reveal is to make known. But
what cannot be comprehended, cannot be made known, and therefore can¬
not be revealed.
" When I am told that the same being is both God and man, I recognise
a very intelligible, though a very absurd proposition ; that is, I know well
all the senses which the words admit. When it is affirmed that < the Fa¬
ther is God, and the Son is God, and the Holy Ghost is God;* and yet
there are not three Gods but one God ; no words can more clearly con¬
vey any meaning, than those propositions express the meaning, that
there are three existences of whom the attributes of God may be predi¬
cated, and yet that there is only one existence of whom the attributes of
God may be predicated. But this is not an incomprehensible mystery, it
is plain nonsense.'* A Statement of Reasons for not believing the Doctrines
of Trinitarians. By Andrews Norton.
15
us * there is absurdity on the very face of such a
doctrine as this and whatever other authority
there may be for it, we think that it has not a sha¬
dow of evidence in the sacred Scriptures ; that reve¬
lation is as clearly opposed to it as reason is. '
I omit other arguments which go to the support
of the doctrine we have been considering, and pass
on to the next important article of the Unitarian be¬
lief—stated in the comprehensive language of one f
of its most eminent advocates—the belief that Jesus
Christ is the Son of God,—" the brightness of his
glory, and the express image of his person " not
God himself, but his image, his brightest manifesta¬
tion, the teacher of his truth, the messenger of his
will, the mediator between God and men, the sac¬
rifice for sin, and the Savior from it ; the abolisher
of death, the forerunner into eternity, where he ev¬
ermore liveth to make intercession for us." You
will perceive from this statement^—and there is not
an item of it which has not been believed and main¬
tained by Unitarians ever since they have existed as
a sect—that the single important point in which their
views respecting Jesus Christ differ from those who
are of the opposite faith, is that of ascribing to him
inferiority to the Father ; the belief, in one word,
* Something équivalent to this occurs in Dr. William Sherlock's Vin¬
dication of the Doctrine of the Trinity/' " To say," says that writer,
that there are three divine persons, and not three distinct infinite minds,
is both heresy and nonsense."
f Rev. O. Dewey. See Christian Examiner, No. 69, Vol. 18.
s
16
that he is not the Supreme God, but his Son, his
messenger, the being sanctified and sent into the
world by God, as the bearer of an all-important com¬
munication to man. Unitarians—however they may
differ in their opinions with respect to the nature of
Christ,* and they are neither ashamed or afraid to
acknowledge that they do differ—-yet all agree in
this, his decided inferiority to the Father. And they
so believe, because, setting aside his own plain and
direct assertions of this truth, a relation subordi¬
nate to God seems to them to be implied in his very
errand and office* He repeatedly speaks of himself
as having been sent into the world. If a person be
sent, of course there must have been another by
whom he was sent ; since the only remaining alter¬
native involves the absurdity of an individual's send¬
ing himself ; and the relation between the sender
and sent cannot certainly be one of perfect equality.
And so the simple fact that Jesus wasún the constant
practice of speaking of God as his Father, and of
himself as his Son, necessarily leads us to the infer¬
ence—unless he used language in a sense altogether
peculiar to himself—that he was not equal with the
Father ; the mere recognition of such a relation was
equivalent to the most formal and decided declara¬
tions of inferiority ; and that he, who calling him-
* Some Unitarians believe that Jesus Christ existed previously to his
incarnation ; others—and this is probably the more general opinion—
hold the opposite belief.
17
self a Son, and praying to God as his Father, should
in fact, at the same time make himself God—as his
cavilling countrymen accused him of doing, (John
X. 33), implies, as we think, too gross and palpa¬
ble an inconsistency to belong to a system of divinely
revealed truth. But we are not obliged to stop
here. All that Christ says of himself, all that his
Apostles say of him, is in perfect keeping with the
titles he assumed of the Son, the Messenger of the
Most High. He separates himself by distinctions
clear and broad from his Father. Language could
not be made to express this truth more unequivocal¬
ly than it was expressed by him, when he said " My
Father is greater than I." (John xiv. 28). Or on
that other occasion, when he replied to one who in¬
quired, " Good Master, what shall I do to inherit
eternal life V—" Why callest thou me good ?
There is none good but one, that is God." (Mark
X. 17, 18). And to recur to a scene already al¬
luded to, that in which the Jews say to him, in justi¬
fication of their intended violence, "For a good
work we stone thee not, but fOr blasphemy, and be¬
cause that thou being a man makest thyself God."
(John X. 33). How could our Lord have put from
him all intention of setting up such a claim, or have
rebutted more decidedly the accusation of his ene¬
mies, than by saying in reply, "Say ye of him whom
the Father hath sanctified and sent into the world.
Thou blasphemest, because I said I am the Son of
3
18
God ? " (John xix. 36). How, bow, in all con¬
science, can we, in the face of this transaction, at¬
tribute to Jesus Christ a rank, which with his own
lips he has virtually disclaimed ? Did I not respect
too highly the character and motives of those who
attribute to him this rank, I would ask a further ques¬
tion ; and that,—^After such a disclaimer, how far
are we from that very blasphemy with which the
Jews impotently charged the Savior, when, in oppo¬
sition to his express declaration, we elevate him to
an equality with the Father, to a participation in the
unshared glories of the Godhead ? *
True, Jesus Christ says, " I and my Father are
one;" (John x. 30). but how he and his Father
are one, and what he means by this unity, he shows
in the touching and beautiful prayer which he offer¬
ed in behalf of his disciples, just before his death.
* It does not come within the province of the present discourse to go
into a discussion of the arguments with which the advocates of the doc¬
trine of the Trinity seek to support it, and to reconcile with it those pas¬
sages of Scripture which are inconsistent with such a doctrine. A word
or two therefore on this subject tnust suffice.
Trinitarians attempt to reconcile (hose passages which plainly speak of
Christ as inferior to and dependent upon the Father—and which admit of
no other interpretation—with those other passages, which, as they sup¬
pose, teach his equality with t^e Father, by the doctrine of the Hypostatic
Union, as it is called; or the doctrine of the union of the divine and hu¬
man natures in Christ, in such a manner that these two natures constitute
but one person.
To say nothing of the palpable absurdities and contradictions which are
necessarily involved in this doctrine and the uses to which it is applied—
suffice it to remark that it bears on its very front the every mark of a hu¬
man device ; a device ingeniously contrived to set aside the otherwise
irresistible force df the general, I might say the universal, testimony
of Scripture to the derived and inferior nature of Jesus Christ.
19
• ' Holy Father, keep through thine own name those
whom thou hast given me, that they may be one as
we are ; as thou Father art in me, and I in thee,
that they also maybe one in us." (John xvii. 11,
21). Thus does our Savior supplicate his Father
that his disciples might be admitted to a participa¬
tion in the union, whatever it was, which subsisted
between him and his Father. What then could that
union have been but union of counsel, of aifection
of purpose, of spirit ?
In one word. Unitarians cannot persuade them¬
selves that Jesus Christ was God, for then, as they
conceive, he would with no propriety have called
himself the Son of God ; they do not believe that he
was equal with God, for then he would not have sai,d
my " Father is greater than I," They believe that
he did not wish to be honored as God ; or he would
not have replied to the author of the question. Good
Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life ?—
"Why callest thou me good ? there is none good but
one, that is God." Jesus Christ was a Son ; and
therefore, if language has any meaning, he sprung
from the Father. " He came not to do his own will,
but the will of him who sent him ; he then who
sent him, he, whose will he came to do, must have
been greater than he. And so said Jesus, "My
Father is greater than I."
* Let the reader consult, in this connexion, John, chap. xvii. 3,18,
21,23, 25: and then say, in what terms our Savior could have taught
more explicitly and convincingly, the truth under consideration.
»
20
To all who object to these views, this is our an¬
swer : that we are satisfied if our belief respecting
the nature and offices of Christ is accordant with
what himself and his apostles required and approv-
ed. When the officer of the Ethiopian Queen, hav¬
ing been instructed by Philip in the Christian reli¬
gion, asked him, " Why may not I be baptized ? "
Philip replied, "If thou believe with all thy heart,
thou mayest. And he answered and said, I believe
that Jesus Christ is the Son of God." And forth¬
with, upon this profession of belief, they both went
down into the water, and Peter baptized the convert.
(Acts viii. 36, 37, 38).
Martha, one of the family whose enviable distinc¬
tion it was to be loved by Jesus, on being asked by
him if she believed in his power to confer immortali¬
ty, answered " Yea, Lord, I believe that thou art
the Christ, the Son of God." (John xi. 27).
And again, when our Savior having first asked his
disciples, " Whom do men say that I the Son of Man
am," at last said to them, "But whom say ye that
I am?" Simon Peter answered, "Thou art the
Christ, the Son of the living God." And this reply
drew from his Lord the memorable words, "Blessed
art thou, Simon, son of Jonah, for flesh and blood
hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father who
is in heaven." (Matthew xvi. 13, 14, 15, 16). Now
were our blessed Redeemer present in person to put to
us the same question, and were we to return to it the
21
same answer, we cannot think that that which drew
a blessing upon Peter, would elicit a sentence of con¬
demnation against us. We cannot think that the
profession of faith made by the ardent disciple—
Heaven-derived, as his master himself announced it
to be—is too little for us to believe. On the contra¬
ry we believe, we are assured, that if it was enough
for him to profess his belief that Jesus was ' ' the Christ,
the Son of God," we are not required, as we certainly
are not taught, to believe more than this. Jesus has
said, "this is life eternal, that they may know thee
the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom
thou hast sent." (John xvii. 3). Thus does it seem
to us, that the Author of our Religion has himself
set before his disciples what they are to believe on
this important subject. Far be it from us to add to,
or take from, this article of faith. Be it our study
to attain that sure and firm confidence in these
>
truths—that living fath—that faith full of love, and
gratitude, and piety, and obedience—which shall
indeed make them efiectual to us in the salvation of
our souls.
Unitarians, I remark in the next place, believe in
the Holy Spirit. They do not believe, however, that
the Holy Spirit is God, or that it constitutes any
part of the divine essence. Neither do they believe
that the Holy Spirit is a person, or conscious agent,
or that it possesses any of the qualities or attributes of
being. They believe that it is a quality, or power, or
22
emanation proceeding from, and emplpyed by God
for the accomplishment of his important purposes in
relation to the salvation of man. Or, to express this
truth more plainly, they believe that by the terms
Holy Spirit, or Spirit of God, is meant that Divine
Influence, by aid of which Jesus Christ was enabled
to speak " as never man spake," and to perform
miracles, which " no man could have done unless
God had thus been with him;" by aid of which, also,
his apostles were fortified, strengthened, and in¬
spired, and endowed, like their great Teacher, with
wisdom and with power. So also do they beli^iye
that in these latter times, we are privileged to en¬
joy the visitations and aids of the same spirit ; for it
is through the Holy Spirit, operating upon the minds
of men, that they are illumined, disciplined, and
improved ; whence we derive all that support which
God affords in temptation, trial, and sorrow ; and,
in a word, all that spiritual aid which he imparts to
man, for the moral and religious advancement of his
character here, in this world, and by which he is
prepared for a higher state of being in the world
" which is to be revealed."!
Unitarians, I have said, and it is implied in the ex¬
planation just given, do not believe in the personal¬
ity of the Holy Spirit ; they do not believe, as some
of their Christian brethren do, that the word Spirit
* Christian Examiner,
t Christian Examiner, No. 66, Vol. 17.
«
í
23
is ever applied by the sacred writers, to an intelli¬
gent being, distinct from the Father ; coequal and
coeternal with him, and like him possessed, in an in-
finite degree, of all divine attributes.
There are a few general heads, as they think, un¬
der one or another of which, all those passages of
Scripture which speak of the Holy Spirit, may be
brought ; none of them recognising, nor admitting,
in their view, the doctrine above stated. They
think that the terms, Holy Spirit and Spirit of God,
are often used, in the first place, " to signify the one
True God, the Father." It is very common in Scrip¬
ture to employ the expression, " the spirit of a per¬
son," in order to denote the person himself. Thus
Paul says to the Corinthians, (1 Cor. vi. 17), "I am
glad of the coming of Stephanas, and Fortunatas,
and Achaicus, for they have refreshed my spirit and
yours,"—i. e. evidently, they have refreshed me and
you. As then the spirit of a person, is a phrase em¬
ployed to denote the person himself, " the Spirit of
God" may naturally mean God himself. Such, doubt¬
less, is its meaning in that passage in 1 Corinthians,
ii. 11, "What man knoweth the things of aman,
save the spirit of man, which is in him. Even so
the things of God knoweth no man, but the Spirit of
God." The sense of the passage is evidently this.
As no one is acquainted with the secret purposes of
a man, except the man himself, so no one is acquaint¬
ed with the secret purposes of God, except God him-
24
self. When Peter said to Ananias, " Why hath Sa¬
tan filled thy heart to lie to the Holy Spirit, (Acts v.
3, 4,) and afterwards, " Thou hast not lied unto men,
but unto God," he made it appear that to lie unto
the Holy Spirit, and to lie unto God were synony¬
mous terms."*
Another sense in which these terms are used in
Scripture is, to denote the supernatural infiuence of
God, or, in other words, a divine power or energy,
, with its accompanying gifts and powers. Those pas¬
sages are to be explained in accordance with this
meaning, which abound in the New Testament, and
speak of persons as being filled with the Holy
Spirit, or full of the Holy Spirit.f Now to us, it
seems of all possible uses of language, most strange
and unnatural, to say that one was full of any person,
or filled with God. And when we consider that the
words filled, and full, are in all other cases in Scrip¬
ture applied to mere qualities, we feel obliged to
believe that in the passages alluded to, powers, gifts,
and infiuence, are signified. As when persons are
said to have been filled with wisdom, (Luke ii. 40,)
with knowledge, (Rom. xv. 14 ; Col. i. 9,) with joy,
(Acts ii. 28,) with comfort, (2 Cor. vii. 4,) with good-
* For other passages, iïlustrative of the same sense of the word Spirit,
see Luke ii. 26 ; Acts xv. 28 ; Acts xx. 28 ; i Corinthians ii. 11—14 ; Ephe-
sians iv. 30 ; Hebrews iz. 8. In each of these cases, if for the phrase Holy
Spirit, the word God he substituted, the meaning will be retained.
T See Luke i. 15, 41, 67 ; Luke iv. I ; Acts ii. 4 ; Acts vi. 3, 5 ; Acts ix.
17 ; Ephesians v. 18, for illustrations.
25'
ness, (Rom. xv. 14), &c. When added to this, we
take into account the fact, that the " Holy Spirit," in
connexion with the adjective, full, often occurs in con¬
nexion with words which represent qualities, as when
the disciples are directed to look out among them,
" seven men of honest report, full of the Holy Spirit,
and of wisdom," (Acts vi. 3), and when Stephen is de¬
scribed as "a man full offaith and of the Holy Spirit,"
(Acts vi. 5), the conclusion seems to us inevitable,
that, in these cases, properties, qualities, states of
mind, are spoken of. The idea of personality seems
to be entirely excluded.
And so the Spirit is spoken of as received. And
let us pause here an instant to remark upon a single
striking case in point. When Paul asked the disci¬
ples at Ephesus, " Have ye received the Holy Spirit
since ye believed?" they replied, "We have not
so much as heard Whether there be any Holy Spirit."
(Acts xix. 2). They meant, evidently, that they had
not been informed of the communication of miraculous
powers and gifts. For of the existence of God, they
could not be ignorant. The Spirit also is alluded to
as given, (Lukexi. 13, Actsviii. 18), and, in one in¬
stance, as given by measure, (John iii. 34), as poured
out, (Acts ii. 17, 18, Acts x. 45); the expression
is used, " to be baptized with the Holy Spirit," (Mat.
iii. 11, Mark i. 8, John i. 33, Acts i. 5); and
Paul speaks of it as dwelling in persons, (Rom. viii. 9,
4
26
0
11,1 Cor. iii. 16). With such a use of language, we
deem the idea of the personality of the Spirit, to be
utterly irreconcilable.
The Evangelist Luke relates a most interesting
conversation, in which our Savior refutes the charge
that he healed the demoniacs by intercourse with
Beelzebub. He uses these words : " If I with the
finger of God cast out demons, no doubt the kingdom
of God is come upon you," (Luke xi. 20). What
are we to understand by the finger of God ? Un¬
doubtedly, the operation, influence, or communicated
energy of God. And, on consulting the parallel pas¬
sage in Matthew, we find this expression : " But if I
cast out devils by the Spirit of God, then," See. (Mat.
xii. 28). Now, how can any one who believes that
the Evangelists have reported the Savior's meaning
accurately, hesitate to believe that in these instances,
"the finger of God," and "the Spirit of God," are
only different modes of expressing the imparted en¬
ergy of God?
Another important class of passages embraces
those cases in which the supernatural influence of
God, or in other words, the Spirit, is personified,
i. e. spoken of as if it were a person, or intelligent
being. This figure, personification, common in all
languages, is of very ' frequent use in the oriental
tongues. And since in Scripture we find even the
common events and conditions of life personified, and
also almost all the powers and dispositions of the
27
mind, we cannot be surprised to find the Spirit spok¬
en of as possessing personal properties.
The Apostle Peter, in his address before the Jewish
council, having spoken of the death, exaltation, &c.
of Jesus Christ, says, " we are his witnesses of these
things, and so is also the Holy Spirit, which God hath
given to them that obey him." (Acts v. 32). The
Spirit is here spoken of as though it were a person;
but that the Apostle could not have alluded to a per¬
son, appears from the fact, that the Spirit, according
to his own language, was given by God. The mean¬
ing which Peter intended to convey, was probably
this: that the Apostles were witnesses of facts which
they knew, in consequence of their attendance upon
Jesus; and also, the miracles, which God enabled
them to perform, were witnesses of the truth of their
assertions. Their miraculous endowments, in other
words, bore witness to their doctrine, as the miracles
of Jesus attested the truth of what he said. " The
works which the Father hath given me to finish, the
same works that I do bear witness of me, that the
Father hath sent me." (John xv. 36).
There is no example of the personification of the
Spirit, more worthy of notice than that which occurs
in the affectionate address of our Savior to his Apos¬
tles before his crucifixion. " I will pray the Father,"
are his words, " and he shall give you another Com¬
forter, that he may abide with you for ever, even the
Spirit of truth," &c. (John xiv. 16, 17). Now,
28
although the Spirit is here spoken of as a Comforter,—
and so far might seem to be a person,—^we are to bear
it in mind, that according to our Savior's language, it
is to be bestowed as a gift. " The Father shall give
you another Comforter," are his words, and they ex-
J
elude, entirely, the idea of real personality. " These
things have I spoken unto you,"—to recur again to
the discourse,—" being yet present with you." " But
the Comforter which is the Holy Spirit, whom the
Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all
things, and bring all things to your remembrance,
whatsoever I have said unto you." (25, 26). Here
again the Comforter is said to be sent by the Father,
which would prove that, if a person, he is inferior to
the Father.
" But when the- Comforter is come," continues our
Savior, "whom I will send to you from the Father,
even the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the
Father, he shall testify of me." (26, 27). If this
passage proves the personality of the Spirit or Com¬
forter, it also proves him to be subordinate to Jesus
Christ ; for he is represented as sending him to the
Apostles, and the person who sends, is necessarily
greater than the person sent.
If, therefore, our Lord's consoling promises of the
Comforter be considered apart from the rest of the
Scriptures, they disprove the divinity of the Holy
Spirit, and afford very dubious evidence even of his
personality. But considered in connexion with the gen-
29
eral doctrines of Scripture on this subject, they ap¬
pear only as an instance of personification. In this
case the figure seems to be remarkably easy, appro¬
priate, and natural. Whilst Jesus remained with his
disciples, he was their Comforter ; but as he was
about to depart from them, and saw that sorrow had
filled their hearts, he tells them that he would send to
them in his own stead, another Comforter, who would
never leave them, even the directing, assisting, and
preserving influence of God upon their minds. The
argument which he employs to console them, may be
thus explained. A little while I have been with
you, I have been your comforter, I have guided, in¬
structed, and defended you. Now I go to him that
sent me, and ye shall see me no more. But I will
send you, instead of myself, another Comforter, who
shall remain with you as long as you live. Of his in¬
struction, support, and consolation, you shall never
be deprived.
The promise was faithfully fulfilled. The power
of God, the divine influence was, in accordance with
it, poured out on the Apostles. By its aid, Christ¬
ianity was established, through miraculous works.
And, furthermore, it is still, as we believe, shed
abroad in the hearts of men; too often, alas, only to
be resisted, quenched, striven against.
It was my original intention to have spoken, in
this discourse, of the views held by Unitarians re-
30
specting the other great doctrines of Christianity.
But the time which has already been consumed in
I
this discussion, regard to my own strength, and
your patience, forbid my attempting this at the pre¬
sent time. With permission of Providence, I shall
resume the discussion on another occasion.
Although it has been my plan, in what I have said,
to state results, opinions, rather than the reasons by
which they are defended, still I have thought it
expedient to glance at some of the general arguments
by which Unitarians support their belief in the doc¬
trines which have been considered. I believe that
the views advanced are, substantially, such as are ad-
vocàted by the Unitarian denomination generally.
In some cases—and this is true particularly of what
has been said of the spirit,*—I have given not only the
opinions^ but occasionally the language, of distinguish¬
ed advocates of our views of Christian doctrine.
I have said but little—and only by occasional allu¬
sion—of the doctrinal opinions of other sects ; and
this, because it has not been my object to prove
them in error, but to show that our own religious
sentiments are, as we think, accordant with the Scrip¬
tures. And, although I may have failed to satisfy some
of my audience—if there be any here who dissent from
these views—that they are true, I hope that they will
at least do us the justice to acknowledge that we are
\
* Id preparing my remarks under this bead, I have made free use of
Yates's Vindication of Unitarianism."
31
able to give " a reason of the faith that is in us ; " and
more than this, that they will hereafter believe—if be¬
fore they have been differently impressed—that there
is nothing in Unitarianism, so far as they have heard
it explained, which is at war with the prominent de¬
clarations of Scripture, relating to the Father^ the
Son, and the Holy Spirit.
DISCOURSE.
1 Timothy, i. 15.
THIS IS A FAITHFUL SAYING, AND WORTHY OF ALL ACCEPTATION,
THAT CHRIST JESUS CAME INTO THE WORLD TO SAVE SINNERS.
In a discourse delivered in this place on the eve¬
ning of the last Lord's day, I endeavored to explain,
so far as I could with a proper regard to brevity,
what were the opinions of Unitarians with respect to
God, his Son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit. The
truths, which, under these several heads, it was at¬
tempted to establish, were the following : That he
who in the New Testament is revealed to us as our
Father, is the only being to whom the title God pro¬
perly belongs ; the only being to whom supreme
worship is due, and to whom it can lawfully be ren¬
dered ; that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, not God
himself, but "his image, his brightest manifestation,
the teacher of his truth, the messenger of his will,
the Savior from sin, the forerunner into eternity;"
that the Holy Spirit is not God ; that it constitutes no
part of the divine essence ; that it is not a person, a
conscious agent, but a quality, a power; an emana-
0^' *9 ••• 9
tioA, proceeding from and employed by God for the
5
34
accomplishment of his important purposes in relation
to the salvation of man.
It is my intention, this evening, to continue the ab¬
stract of the Unitarian doctrine, commenced at the
time alluded to, by setting forth, with as much dis¬
tinctness as my limits will permit, the opinions of the
Unitarian denomination respecting other great funda¬
mental truths revealed in the Scriptures.
The first of these which I shall notice is that po¬
pularly called the Atonement. There is no misre¬
presentation of Unitarianism more common than that
which sets forth, that " Unitarians put no reliance
on the death of Christ ; that they make this event of
no value in procuring salvation ; that they attribute
no efficacy to his sufferings ; but depend on then-
own exertions solely for reconciliation with God."
How much foundation there is for this allegation, will,
1 hope, be made to appear in the subsequent re¬
marks.
• •
Unitarians, then, I remark, believe in the atone¬
ment, i. e. they believe in what that word, and similar
words, mean in the New Testament. And here, it
may be well to state, that this word atonement occurs
but once throughout the whole of the New Testa¬
ment. Although the original Greek word is found
there *ten times, in only one solitary instance have
* The passages in which this word occurs are Romans v. 11 ; xi. 15 ;
2 Cor. V, 18, 19, in which cases the noun is used; and Rom. v. 10; 1
Cor. vii. 11 ; 2 Cor. v. 18,19, 20, where the iwiiitupswáiu^ verb, or par¬
ticiple is used.
35
our translators, in rendering it into English, made
use of the word atonement. And I mention this
fact, because, in connexion with the very great and
paramount importance which is ascribed to this word,
—"as if," as another has said, "it carried in its letters
and sound, independently of signification,'^a potent
charm,^it is well worthy our notice,—Unitarians
believe in the atonement as taught in the New Tes¬
tament, as taught in that passage of the Apostle
Paul's writings where this word occurs We also
joy in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom
we have now received aíonmeraí. (Rom. v. 11). But
what does atonement mean in this connexion? Its
meaning is explained in the preceding verse, where
the same word occurs twice, used once as a verb and
once as a participle : " For if when we were enemies
we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much
more being reconciled, we shall be saved by his life."
(verse 10). Atonement, then, means reconciliation;
and it is therefore reconciliation which in the other
verse first repeated, we are said to have received .
by our Lord Jesus Christ. And the truth here taught
and inculcated throughout the New Testament, we,
in common with other Christians, firmly believe. "It
is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation,"
and gladly and gratefully do we accept it, " that
Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners."
We believe that "God so loved the world, that he
gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth
36
in him should not perish, but have everlasting life ;"
(John iii. 16.) that "we have peace with God through
our Lord Jesus Christ (Romans v. 1.) " that God
hath given to us life eternal, and this life is in his
*
4
Son (1 John v. 11.) " and that we have redemp¬
tion throdgh his blood, even the forgiveness of sins
(Col. i. 14). In short, every Christian believes, that
sin is taken away, the guilty pardoned, and the pen¬
itent saved, through Jesus Christ, as expressed in the
above texts, and many others of similar import, con¬
tained in almost every part of the New Testament.
No one, certainly, will deny the validity of the
claim to a belief in the atonement set up by Unita¬
rians, or say, that believing it in form, they reject it
in substance, who is informed that they have ex¬
pressed their belief in such language as this : *That
" Christ, by the divine will, underwent a bloody death,
for an expiatory sacrifice, (by which is meant a sacri¬
fice which takes away sin)" ; that f " the death of
Christ is to be regarded at all times as the only sacri¬
fice capable of obtaining from God the pardon of our
sins;" that |"as the sacrifices under the law of
Moses expiated guilt and procured remission, so
Christ's shedding his blood and oifering up his life
* This is the language of the Racorian Catechism, a work published by
the early Polish Unitarians.
t So says the Geneva Catechism—a work which embodies the views of
the Unitarians of the present day in Geneva and Switzerland.
t ''The Scripture Doctrine of Atonement," by John Taylor.
37
was the means of remission and favor to penitent
sinners." All these expressions, as I have now read
them, are to be found in Unitarian books. Now, on
comparison of this language withi^at used by Trini¬
tarians and Calvinists, its agreement with it is most
striking. And it is a fact well worthy our considera¬
tion, that would our fellow Christians of these denom¬
inations express this doctrine in language to which
they all would assent, they would be obliged to adopt
a statement in which Unitarians would concur with
them. For so various are the shades of meaning,
which even the Orthodox, as they style themselves,
annex to the word atonement, that it is utterly vain
for them to pretend to unanimity in any respect save
this, "that salvation is obtained through the sufferings
and death of Christ," a statement of the doctrine in
which, as I have already said. Unitarians would cor¬
dially unite ; for thus much they all believe ; and this
is about all in which the most strenuous believers in
this article of faith concur. I forbear to enlarge on
the topic suggested by this statement, of the folly and
presumption of the assertion which we sometimes
hear, that no one can be saved who does not believe
in the atonement. For the question immediately
arises. What are we to believe? Which of the vari¬
ous explanations of this doctrine given by those who
consider it thus essential—and all certainly cannot
be correct—which is that identical exposition of the
doctrine, which bears the impress of safety and truth?
38
And again, since all are agreed as to the great fact,
what does this diversity of opinion as to the precise
manner prove, but that it is a matter of very little
importance as an S^kof Christian faith. " If it were
revealed it would admit of no dispute ; if it were
essential it would have been revealed." It is revealed
that Christ was a Savior sent from God. This we
all acknowledge, this we all believe. It is revealed,
also, that there is a connexion between the sufferings
of Christ and our forgiveness and redemption. This
we all acknowledge, this we all believe. Is it asked,
^vhat is this connexion? how is the death of Christ a
means of salvation? Here begins the diversity of
opinion, just where, (as is the case with regard to
every other controverted doctrine), it is comparatively
unessential, which of various explanations we may
choose to adopt.
" The atonement," as one of our able writers has
said, "is one thing; the gracious interposition of
God in our behalf ; the doing of all that was necessa¬
ry to be done, to provide the means and the way for
our salvation ;—^this is one thing ; in this we all be¬
lieve. The philosophy, the theory, the theology,
(so to speak) of the atonement, is another thing.
About this, Orthodox Christians are differing with
one another about as much as they are differing from
us. Nay more, they are saying as hard things of
one another, as they ever said of us. Is it not time
to learn wisdom ? Is there not ground, that is to say,
39
of general belief and trust, without insisting upon
particular and peculiar explanations?"
But I do not propose to dismiss this subject here.
Notwithstanding the manner of salvation by Jesus
Christ is not revealed, there certainly can be no
harm in asking—indeed the inquiry may be a profit¬
able one—if the Scriptures throw no light on this
subject, and if so, what light, what do they teach ?
This inquiry, I wish to have it it clearly understood,
has been instituted by Unitarians, as well as by their
fellow Christians of other denominations. They
have sought to understand in what this atonement
consists. And if, in the results which they have at¬
tained, there is a diversity of opinion similar to that
which obtains among their Orthodox brethren, they
are so far, as they think, better off than they, that
inasmuch as they regard unanimity on this subj ect as
impossible, so also do they regard it as unessential.
I shall now present, in as condensed form as pos¬
sible, the prominent features of the Unitarian belief,
respecting this much controverted doctrine. In mak¬
ing this sketch, I shall avail myself of *an impartial,
careful, and justly valued digest of Unitarian opinions.
" Certain rules," I quote the work alluded to,
"ought to be instituted at the outset, and rigidly
followed. No results may be admitted which are
inconsistent with truths plainly revealed, or with the
" An " Inquiry into the Comparative Moral Tendency of Trinitarian and
Unitarian Doctrines/* by Jared Sparks.
40
attributes of God, or with the nature of man, or with
the commands of Scripture. Now the Calvinistic
notion of the manner of salvation is at variance with
these established principles. It destroys the attri¬
butes of deity, demolishes the groundwork of piety,
is not adapted to the nature and condition of man,
and renders useless every gospel precept. Unitari¬
ans have revolted at the thought of making such a
doctrine a part of the Christian religion. They have
understood it to be a sacred principle, that God will
not accomplish any purpose, in a manner which shall
derogate from his moral perfections, or render nuga¬
tory his own commands; and they have never dared
to set up a doctrine of inference, in pointed opposi¬
tion to many others, which harmonize with the divine
attributes, and are laid down in unambiguous terms,
as truths of revelation, and rules of conduct. No
scheme of atonement is admissible with them, which
interferes in any possible degree with the practical
parts of the gospel."
All the opinions which have been held by Unita¬
rians on the subject under consideration, have by the
authority alluded to, been brought under three gen¬
eral heads. The first view of the atonement repre¬
sents it as a sacrifice, designed to expiate or take
away the guilt of sin, by its influence in procuring
the pardon of God, which would not have been grant¬
ed without such a sacrifice. Thus the death of
Christ is regarded as a means by which the pardon
41
of sin is procured ; why, and how, there are those
who think it does not concern them to inquire. God
chose to bestow salvation in consequence of the
death of Christ. His motives for so doing, make no
part of the doctrine. He might have adopted a dif¬
ferent plan, had he seen ht; but in the system which
he has actually established to redeem the wicked,
the death of Christ was essential ; and had a pre¬
vailing influence, although we are unacquainted with
its precise nature and extent.
This scheme approaches that of the Calvinists, but
has not its defects. It the attributes of Deity
in their full perfection ; presents a scheme of salva¬
tion in which the moral agency and absolute obedi¬
ence of man are necessary ; since it can operate only
in their behalf who imitate Christ, lead obedient
lives, and use their privileges and freedom to God's
glory ; while at the same time, whatever other effica¬
cy it may ascribe to the death of Christ, it does not
suppose that it went to satisfy divine justice, to make
God more placable, or to discharge the sinner's debt.
The next general opinion is, that for the sufferings
and death of Christ, " he has been rewarded by the
Father in an exalted state, with supreme power
to forgive sins, to make effectual intercessions for
transgressors, and bestow salvation on all such as
are truly penitent and worthy." This view, you
will perceive, embraces the reasons why God was
pleased to accept the sufferings of Christ, as an in-
»
6
42
ducement to pardon sinners. The foundation of the
whole is believed to be his obedience and goodness.
The merits of Christ's death, in the sight of God,
consisted in his having conformed in all things to
the divine will, submitted to innumerable trials and
sufferings while on earth, and finally resigned him¬
self to the death of the cross. He endured the per¬
secutions of men, with unyielding fortitude, return¬
ed good for evil to all his enemies, set an example of
perfect holiness to the world, braved every danger
in establishing the truth of his doctrines, and, to ac¬
complish his work of obêdiénce and righteousness,
he even yielded up his life. These deeds and traits
of character were so rare, so disinterested, and so
exalted, in their nature and influence, that God was
graciously pleased to reward him with the privilege
and power of making his intercessions efficacious to
the pardon of sinners. He has accordingly been con¬
stituted our advocate with the Father, our interces¬
sor, whose obedience and death have given him free
access to the throne of grace, and rendered his entrea¬
ties in our behalf, available to our forgiveness and
salvation. " We are saved, and ransomed, and par¬
doned," says Emlyn, a distinguished Unitarian, "by
his blood, as that was the highest instance of con¬
summate obedience, even to the death of the cross ;
with which the holy God was so pleased, that he
exalted him to his right hand, and constituted him
the only advocate through whose meditation he
43
would grant pardon and other favors to repenting
sinners." Here we have an account of the manner
of salvation through Jesus Christ. His obedience
is the first and principal step. As a reward for
this, he has received power to obtain the pardon
and salvation of the penitent, who forsake their sins,
and become his worthy followers.
There are various minor differences of opinion,
which yet may all be brought under this general
head, since they all have regard to the obedience
and holy practice of Christ, as the efficacious ground
of pardon.
Whatever else may be said of the opinion which
has now been presented, this much is certain ;
that it exhibits, in the strongest light possible,
God's regard for goodness, purity, and obedience;
that it presents the redemption procured by Jesus
Christ, in a most attractive light, by representing it
as the consequence of truth, virtue, and righteous¬
ness. Furthermore, it goes to confirm every moral
precept, not only by insisting on a holy life, as a
necessary preparation for enjoying the benefits of
Christ's death, but by maintaining that the power of
conferring these benefits has been granted on the
same consideration.
The third and last opinion to be noticed, is, that
the death of Christ " was chiefly instrumental in lead¬
ing men to embrace his religion, obey his commands,
repent of and forsake their sins, and attain that state
44
of character, which God is always ready to accept
and reward with pardon, and without which no man
can be fitted for his future kingdom. This view re¬
gards the agency of Christ in the salvation of sinners,
as operating upon men alone, and not on God."
And this is the view of the atonement adopted, if I
mistake not, by the Unitarian denomination gener¬
ally. They believe—and they point to Scripture for
the source of their belief—that " Christ suffered the
just for the unjust, to bring us to God." (1 Peter iii.
18). They believe, with the Apostle, that "Christ
gave himself for us, to redeem us from all iniquity,
and to purify unto himself a peculiar people zealous
of good works." (Titus ii. 14). They believe " that
God has reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ."
(2 Cor. V. 18.) and that " God was in Christ'recon¬
ciling the world unto himself." (2 Cor. v. 19).
Against the Calvinistic scheme, as thus stated in the
words of Calvin himself, that—*" Jesus Christ sus¬
tained the character of a malefactor, and that it was
necessary that he should feel the severity of the divine
vengeance, in order to appease the wrath of God,
and satisfy his divine justice,"—we enter our solemn,
our decided protest. We believe of this doctrine,
and of every modification of it, that it is unreason¬
able, unsafe, unscriptural, and monstrous—a terrible
libel against Him, whose character, as displayed to
us in nature, in the whole moral work of creation.
^ Institutes, Book II. Chap. 16, § 5.
45
and above all, in his most holy Word, is expressed
in this,—" God is love." What ! Is it necessary
that a sacrifice be offered, the sacrifice of an innocent
being—that a victim bleed, that so infinite satisfaction
«
may be made to inexorable justice? Does man pur¬
sue with unrelenting severity his brother man who
has wronged him, refusing to be satisfied with any
thing short of a full equivalent for the wrong which
he has done? Does the creditor exact in all cases
the full amount of his just debt, to the very fraction
of his claim? Is the human bosom susceptible to the
sentiments of forbearance, pity, forgiveness, justice?
And is God, our Heavenly Father, less forbearing,
less pitiful, less forgiving, less just, than his imper¬
fect creature, man? Read the parable of the prodi¬
gal son, and then answer the question. And if
there be any thing in the Sacred Volume, so utterly,
so irreconcilably at variance with the representation
given of our Father's character, in that beautiful and
touching portion of Scripture, as the doctrine now
under consideration, then, (I had almost said), let us
shut our Bibles for ever ; and for our knowledge of
God's character, consult Nature and our own souls.
But we find no such doctrine, and nothing akin to it
in the Bible.
The' very reason assigned there for God's sending
his Son to be a Redeemer and Savior, is, " that he
loved the world." The whole scheme of salvation,
as developed in the New Testament—or else we
46
have sadly misunderstood it—has its foundation, as
also its consummation, in love. God's love—Heaven
forbid that we should cast the shadow of an imputa¬
tion on this great truth—God's love, who sent his
Son, was certainly not less than his who was sent.
God's feelings towards man—however he, sinful, for¬
getful creature, may have been alienated from his
Maker—have always been those of a Father. Not
even sin, blacker though it be than blackest dark¬
ness, when committed against such a being, could
change these full fountains of parental love into vin-
dictivenesS and wrath. In accordance with this fun¬
damental truth, do we understand, as Scripture
teaches us to understand, the redemption obtained by
Jesus Christ.
Mankind had corrupted their way before God;
they had forsaken his counsels, and brought misery
on themselves in consequence. Now God cannot,
consistently with his own laws, pardon the wicked,
and communicate to them the felicity of the blessed,
till first they have ceased to be wicked. "When the
wicked has forsaken his way and the imrighteous
man his thoughts," when he has turned from bondage
to sin, to the freedom of truth and virtue—then, and
not till then,, can God, consistently with his moral
government, receive him to his favor, and bless him
with all spiritual blessings. Jesus Christ came to
produce this change; to teach repentance and obe¬
dience as the means of obtaining forgiveness, the re-
'47
mission of sins, and acceptance with God. For it is
on the conditions of repentance and obedience solely, that
God has professed a willingness to receive sinners.
Such were the terms proposed under the old dispen¬
sation. " Let the wicked forsake his way and the
unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return
unto the Lord, and he will have mercy on him, and
4
to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." (Isai.
Iv. 7). And as the Prophets preached Repen¬
tance, so also did John the Baptist, so did the Savior,
and so did the Apostles. He who continues in sin,
cannot be forgiven in consequence solely of any
thing which Christ has done ; but when, in conse¬
quence of what Christ has done, men are induced to
repent and reform, their past sins are forgiven, and
they are received into God's favor.
Thus are we brought to a distinct understanding
of the agency of Christ in the redemption and salva¬
tion of sinners. *"He has been an instrument in
reconciling transgressors to their Maker, and thus
causing them to accept the conditions on which God
has signified his readiness to pardon the guilty. The
whole has consisted in turning them from ignorance
to knowledge ; from evil to good ; from blindness, and
hardness of heart, to a love of God, and reverence of
his glorious attributes ; from the degrading thraldom
of sin, to the heavenly attainments of a pure religion,
and the joyful hopes of an immortal felicity. Christ
* Sparks's Inquiry.
48
has been instrumental in the salvation of sinners, by
conquering the power of evil in the human heart, and
subduing the spirit of opposition to the divine will."
And by what means, by what agency, has Christ ac¬
complished this all-important object7 By his death
simply and solely?. By no means. Else for what
purpose was his preaching, his parables, his counsels,
warnings, threatenings, promises, miracles, doc¬
trines, and the last, not least, his pure, holy, perfect
example? By all these, (not omitting, no not omit^
ting, but giving special prominence to his sufferings),,
" his sufferings during life, and especially at the time
of his condemnation and death ; as also by his resur¬
rection and ascension to Heaven—by all these means,
has he established his religion in the hearts of men,
and made it effectual to their repentance and salva¬
tion. ,
Thus it is that redemption through Christ is not a
consequence of his death, nor of any single act, but
of all he did, taught and suffered, during his ministry
on earth, in connexion with the part he may still be
acting in his exalted station. It has been truly ob¬
served that the Scriptures do not speak of salvation
by the death of Christ(lalone. We are there said to
be saved by faith, by works, by baptism, by grâce,
and by many other things, as well as by the death of
Christ; yet no one supposes that we can be saved by
either of these singly, but by all combined.
Thus Jesus redeems men, or takes away their sins,
49
by all his actions and doctrines together, and by the
power and influence of his religion to reform the
wicked, regenerate their depraved hearts, and con¬
vert them to holiness of life and temper."
This then, is, in substance, the general belief of
*Unitarians, so far as I am acquainted with their
opinions on this important subject. And I wish to
have it clearly understood, that I do not pretend to
speak for all my brethren. We have signed no
creed on this subject ; we have pledged ourselves to
no particular exposition of this doctrine ; we all
think for ourselves ; we claim this privilege as our
sacred, our inalienable right. And now is any one
prepared to say, that the view which I have sketched,
is lax, unsafe, unscriptural, that we do not believe
enough, that for not believing more—it has been
said—we must be damned?
I have not time to notice the popular objections to
this exposition of our opinions. One word with re¬
spect to that one which is most frequently urged.
It is said, that to make repentance or obedience a
condition of salvation, is to put salvation on the
ground of merit. And it has been said in reply—and
we challenge the most skilful polemic to show the
fallacy of the answer—" that in relation to God, no
merit on the part of man is supposed. The whole is
*I might add^many Trinitarians also; for some of the language
above quoted, is talcen from the works of eminent individuals, belonging to
this class of believers.
7
50
of divine mercy ; it is the exclusive work of God; the
merit is his, and to Him belongs all the praise. By
his compassion alone he was inclined to save and
bless his creatures ; he sent his Son to redeem them
from their sins, by publishing the conditions of par¬
don, and performing works, to aid their restoration
to holiness, which could not have been performed
without light, guidance, and support from heaven.
The actions of men have no merit, except as the tes¬
timony of obedience. They are of no value as the
price of salvation. God saves freely. Every act of
obedience is an act of duty, and is so far meritorious,
as to deserve the promised reward, became God has
promised it, and not because any benefit is conferred on
him. As far as there is any merit in complying with
the conditions of Divine forgiveness, so far is human
merit exalted, by our views of the manner of salva¬
tion, and no farther.*
To conclude this topic—we, as well as our fellow
Christians, believe in Christ ; in salvation by him ;
in his atonement; would God, that all who call
* Bishop Hoadly, an eminent divine of the Church of England, speaking
of those who are mistaken in the terms- of Divine acceptance, says—
They are all such as (though they do not say it, and speak it aloud, in so
many words), yet think and speak in such a manner of the merits of
Christ's sufferings, and the imputation of his personal holiness to believers,
as to rriake his moral laws of none effect, and to render all virtue in Chris¬
tians a poor, insignificant, unnecessary matter; unless it be the great
virtue of applying the merits of Christ to ourselves ; ^ virtue, which they
who have most spirits, are most frequently observed ÄWfc masters of; and
which hath been too often seen to be founded upon the greatest degree of
confidence, and the greatest degree of guilt, mixed andftmpered together,
by a strong fancy and imagination."
51
themselves his disciples, were too intent on the grand
truth, the solemn duties, involved in this simple
statement, to waste their time, their strength, and
their temper, in a worse than idle theological warfare.
I pass now to the consideration of another article
of the Unitarian belief : the belief in regeneration ;
the belief that " except a man be born again, he can¬
not see the kingdom of God." And as we believe
this truth, so also do we believe it in reference to no
particular portion of the human family, but of all men
generally—for " all like sheep have gone astray,
and have turned every one to his own way." There
is another truth comprehended in this statement, to
which, before we proceed, it may be well to devote
a moment's consideration ; the truth to which I al¬
lude, is that of human sinfulness—or, to adopt the
more generally received phrase—human depravity.
In their belief in this doctrine. Unitarians profess not
to be one whit behind their fellow Christians of other
denominations. " We believe"—to use the strong
language of another—that " the world, taken in the
mass, is a very, a very bad world ; that its sinfulness
is dreadful, and horrible to consider ; that the na¬
tions ought to be covered with sackcloth and mourn¬
ing for it ; that they are filled with misery by it.
Why, can any man look abroad upon the countless
miseries indicted by selfishness, dishonesty, slander,
strife, war ; upon the boundless woes of intemper¬
ance, libertinism, gambling, crime-—can any man
52
look upon all this, with the thousand minor diversi¬
ties and shadings of guilt, and guilty sorrow, and
feel that he could write any Uss dreadful sentence
against the world than Paul has written? ' They
have all gone out of the way, there is none that doeth
good, no not one. With their tongues they use de¬
ceit, and the poison of asps is undel* their lips ;
whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness ; and
the way of peace have they not known, and there is
no fear of God before their eyes.' Not believe in
human depravity? Why a man must be a fool, nay
a stock, a stone, not to believe in it ! He has no
eyes, he has no senses, he has no perceptions, if he
refuses to believe in it."
Unitarians, then, believe in human depravity—but
how do they believe, and what do they believe ? Do
they believe in an inherent, total, irremediable, wick¬
edness of nature, which man, by no effort of his own,
can avoid or remove ? They believe no such thing.
We believe that the corruption and sin into which
men are plunged, is their own work; that reason
and conscience, and power of choice, and will, were
given them, and are sufficient to enable them both
to understand and obey their duty ; that if they sin,
the fault is in themselves, and not in their nature.
And as for the doctrine of total depravity, the doctrine
of original corruption, whereby *"we are utterly in-
*Tliis is the language of the Presbyterian Confession of Faith
53
disposed, disabled, and made opposite to all good, and
wholly inclined to all evil, and that from this source
do proceed all actual transgressions,"—we think that
it is impossible to express, in language too strong,
our deep convictions of its want of scriptural support,
and its ruinous moral tendency ; that it is contra¬
dicted by all observation, and by all Scripture. No—
Unitarians believe th^ to preach repentance and ho¬
liness to such a being as this, were only a solemn
mockery, to plunge him deeper in the despair al¬
ready awaked by being taught that he is totally and
necessarily depraved.
Unitarians dare not believe, dare not preach such
depravity as this. They do indeed preach—and
preach it too often and too earnestly they cannot—that
mankind are terribly depraved; but, to charge this
depravity to an inherent and necessary corruption,
they cannot do this. They tell men that their sins
result from their own choice, from their own neglect,
from their own wilful disobedience. They tell them
that they are free agents ; that as such, they have
sinned, and that as such, they may repent of, and
forsake their sins. They say to the sinner, " Behold
the consequence of disregarding the monitions of
conscience, of abusing your better faculties, of neg¬
lecting God's laws?*" But **T:urn ye, turn ye, why
will ye die.*"* Shake off the yoke of sin. Come
forth from the darkness which shrouds your spirit,
to the light and joy of virtue. Lay hold on the
54
promises of Christ, walk in his footsteps, regulate
your lives by his rules, seek aid and strength from
God. Do this, and by the aid of God's Spirit, you
shall escape from the misery and curse of sin, and
enjoy the freedom of the sons of God. But, on the
other hand, persist in your sins, and you persist by
your own choice, and at your own peril ; and as you
have sown, so shall you reap./'
And here we come again to the doctrine just now
mentioned—the doctrine of regeneration ; which re¬
generation, in the Scripture sense of that word, we
believe to be necessary to all men, inasmuch as all
have sinned. If, before an individual can be entitled
to the name and character of a Christian, he must
bring himself into obedience to Christian rules, and
to the performance of Christian duties, deny his sen¬
sual appetites and tastes, subdue his worldliness—
in one word, if he must think, and speak, and act,
according to the dictates of Christian principle—then,
surely may we say that all must be regenerated, born
again, acquire new tastes, new habits, new princi¬
ples of action. For who is he, to whom such a
change is unnecessary, in order that he may become
what the Christian religion requires him to be ?
And this duty—the duty to repent of our transgres¬
sions, to make ourselvêà* pure,"'ánd good—together
with our own power, not without Cos's* aid indeed,
to make ourselves so, seems to us to be expressly
taught or expressly implied, on every page of Scrip-
55
ture. It is implied in its commands to forsake sin ;
in its injunctions to repentance and obedience ; in
its promises, threatenings, and exhortations. For of
what avail were all these, and why were they given,
unless addressed to beings who can be influenced by
such motives ? We believe, then, that Jesus Christ
came, that Scripture was given to call us to, and to
assist us in, this all-important work—to teach us
" to work out our salvation with fear and trem¬
bling." We believe that "regeneration is the grand
work of existence—that so it should always be con¬
sidered, that so it should always be labored for."
The means, which in the Providence of God, are in¬
strumental in producing, or giving the first impulse
to the change of regeneration, and carrying it on, are
many and various. The moral discipline of life,
makes a large proportion of these means. Joy and
sorrow, prosperity and adversity, sickness and health,
good and ill success, disappointments, bereavements,
have all been blessed to this end; to make men
thoughtful, serious, and in the end, religious. All
the occurrences of life, (and many such there are)
which remind us of the shortness and uncertainty of
existence, of death, of the evil and danger of sin, of
God's goodness and power, and our dependence on
him, do something towards purifying, regenerating,
making us better. The same may be said of every
thing which makes us 'good, which causes us to love
God, and virtue, and duty. And let it not be thought
56
that among these means, we are disposed to over¬
look the agency of God's blessed Spirit. Overlook
it ? No indeed. It is this which gives efficacy and
power to all other means. It is this which is oper¬
ating in and through all the events of life, and seek¬
ing to make them ministers to us for good. God, (so
we believe), is always ready to assist us—but only
when we are disposed to assist ourselves. We do
not believe that he operates upon our hearts and
minds, by an arbitrary, irresistible influence. We
believe, and rejoice in believing, that he is ever
ready to aid our virtuous efforts ; to listen to our
prayers ; to encourage the faint-hearted ; to forgive
the penitent ; to conflrm the good. We believe, as
another has said, "conversion to be the work of
God, by the innumerable motives and inducements,
which he employs to bring men to a just sense of
their duty ; a deep reverence of his character, love
of his laws, and a habitual desire for purity of mind
and holiness of life. Whatever leads to these re¬
sults, may be considered as proceeding from the
Spirit of God. This Spirit may operate through
good instructions ; or any thing, in fact, which dis¬
poses the mind to thoughtfulness and serious inquiry.
Sudden and deep afflictions, an impressive sermon,
certain passages in the word of God, may, by the
agency of the divine Spirit, be brought down upon
the soul, with a power which will terminate in con¬
version ; by opening the eyes of men to their true
t
í
57
character, and causing them to see the folly and
danger of sin. But in these operations there is no
force, nor compulsion; nothing which may not be
resisted ; and which is not resisted by all, who, under
the same circumstances, receive no impression,
Unitarians, I remark in the last place, believe in a
future retribution, in a future state of rewards and
punishments—in a heaven and a hell ; i. e. in what,
as they conceive, is meant by these terms. They
believe, to their full extent, those passages of Scrip¬
ture, which assert in form, or in substance, "What¬
soever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." They
believe, moreover, that while Scripture clearly and
explicitly announces that the good shall be rewarded,
and the wicked punished, in the future state, it does
not state specifically in what these future rewards and
punishments are to consist. They believe that the
language of the New Testament on this subject is
so obviously figurative, that it will not permit us to
found definite and literal statements upon it ; that
something different from a celestial city is to be un¬
derstood by heaven ; something different from, aye,
and more terrible, than a world of elemental fires and
bodily torments, is intended by hell.
They believe that while Scripture having express¬
ly announced the great fundamental, essential truth,
that we are to be rewarded or punished according to
the deeds done in the body, has left in a degree
undetermined many interesting and important ques-
8
*
58
tions connected with this momentous subject ; that,
nevertheless, its general tenor, God's character, and
our own mental and moral nature, are so many
sources to which we may apply for light to satisfy
01^ doubts, and establish our minds. We have ap¬
plied to these sources, and have formed opinions—not
in all cases accordant it is true, for how could this
be from the very nature of the subject—but, as we
t
think, reasonable and scriptural.
And let me here, before I proceed to state what I
suppose to be substantially the opinions of *Unitarians
in this country respecting a future retribution, again
remind you, and call upon you to remember, that we
do not pretend to entire unanimity of opinion. On
a subject where so much is left to conjecture, there
must needs be more or less of diversity of sentiment.
One who has investigated this subject thoroughly
speaks thus : "Those amongst us whose thoughts on
this subject appear to be most distinct and consistent,
suppose that the sinner after death, as well as before,
will be a moral being, and capable, of course, of
moral changes. They suppose he will still be free,
and of coursé that he may become better or worse,
but that his ultimate restoration to holiness is at best
but a contingency. The future state is also some-
* American Unitarians differ on this important subject from their breth¬
ren in England. The latter, the majority of them at least, regard the final
happiness of all mankind as a necessary consequence of fixed and immu¬
table laws 'y while the former do not look forward to an universal restora¬
tion to holiness except as a contingency.
59
times represented by American Unitarians as nothing
but a continuation of oúr moral process, which it is the
effect of sin to retard irretrievably. Every one will
start in a future state from that precise point in moral
and religious progress which he reaches in this life.
Of course, as the sinner will be behind at the starting,
he may be expected to continue behind for ever, even
though all are supposed to be advancing."
Permit me to trespass a little longer on your at¬
tention, while I go briefly into a development of this
view. Its advocates begin then with laying down
as a fundamental truth—what no reflecting person, I
presume, will deny—that the only sure happiness of
man comes from religious and intellectual improve¬
ment ; that happiness follows the religious character
in the unalterable order of nature, as a good tree
produces good fruit. This happiness we begin to ex¬
perience here. It follows hard on every good feeling
we cherish, and every good deed we perform. The
low slave Of passion can neither taste it nor under¬
stand it. All his happiness comes from material
things—take him from these and he is wretched.
Now, it is assumed that the happiness which we here
enjoy, from kind, generous, religious affections, is
the happiness of heaven. And this happiness re¬
sulting from the spiritual being, from the cultivation
of our best and noblest powers, it is supposed to be
beyond the power of death to destroy. It crushes
the powerful frame, palsies the mighty arm, but has
60
no power over the soul. Death is but an incident in '
its life. Released from its^ earthly bondage, it goes
on in improvement with less resistance, with no cares,
no sorrows to weigh it down.
And if, according to the constitution which God
has given to man, religious and intellectual improve¬
ment is the foundation of solid happiness in this
world ; this must be true, likewise, in the world to
come. In which case, our happiness hereafter must
depend on our preparation here. In this world the
foundations of that improvement must be laid. In
this world, therefore, the joy of heaven must begin.
Thus is future happiness a natural result of present
improvement. Thus does the future life bear the
same relation to the present that childhood does to
manhood. God has made us the architects of our
own happiness. He uses all moral means to lead
men to their true interest. He unfolds the brilliant
vision of heaven before them, shows them the char¬
acter it requires, and leaves it to themselves to de¬
termine whether it is or is not worth securing. If
they love something else better, they of course
surrender this hope. But if they go to form those
characters from which happiness naturally springs,
they say for themselves, and not for another, whether
they shall, or shall not, be happy. In this world
there are many circumstances which may prevent the
guilty from being miserable, and the just from being
happy. But in another life there is no bar, no help,
61
nothing whatever to interfere with the natural results
of the characters we have chosen to form ; and ac¬
cording as that character is right or wrong, according
as the intellectual and religious nature has been de¬
veloped—or riches and pleasures, the vain objects
of this world, have engaged the affections—will
that future state necessarily be one of enjoyment or
misery.
And thus it is that in the punishment of the guilty
there is no direct infliction on God's part. He has
done all he could do to lead men to goodness ; he
has exhausted the resources of moral power to in¬
fluence them to choose that character which alone
can make them happy. If they fail of this result it
is the fruit of their own doings.. Let not the child,
who has refused to listen to every warning, turn
upon his father when he falls, and accuse him, as the
author of his wo. His father did all that moral power
could do to save him from ruin. And this result
cannot be prevented, without breaking up that whole
order of nature which brings peace and happiness to
the just. Besides, we cannot imagine any thing like
compulsion in one mind acting upon another. We
cannot make our child receive knowledge. We can use
compulsion upon his body, we can bind him to his
book ; but it is evident that compulsion cannot reach
the mind. And we can conceive of no power which
can break up this order of nature ; no power which
can make him who has refused to be holy enjoy that
»
62
happiness which nothing but holiness brings. No
one can be happy who is not good. This no one
will deny. But whoever heard of such a thing as
compulsory goodness. The only goodness which
deserves the name must evidently be voluntary, It
implies the choice and consent of our own hearts.
Goodness in men is what they have made themselves,
not what any power has made them. The power of
God, Christianity, we have full power to resist if we
will. The prize is offered, but never will be forced
into our hands. If we cast it rudely away, the loss
and the guilt will be our own. If we make the
preparation, we write our own names in the book of
life by the power which God has given.
Some may look forward to another world for an
opportunity of forming that character which they
have refused or neglected to cultivate in this. Still
the Scriptures represent the future as a state of retri¬
bution. True, it is an awful thought that the conse¬
quences of our characters should endure through the
ages of eternity ; stretching out far beyond the grave.
But they must endure, so long as those characters
remain the same ; and difficult, indeed, will be the
task to alter them, after we have here enjoyed the
full sunshine of God's goodness which leads to re¬
pentance in vain.
But it is impossible to do more than speculate on
such a subject, where the Scripture leaves us. It
would be folly to depend on probabilities and chances
63
in a matter so momentous. We know that the child
who has wasted the time of preparation for active
life, can never redeem it. He may repent, but he
can never overtake those who started with him, and
improved their earliest and best hours. He never
can stand where he might have stood.
The view which has now been presented, is con¬
densed from an admirable essay on Retribution, pub¬
lished in the most prominent Unitarian periodical of
our county, and of course thus sanctioned is entitled
4
to more consideration than if it were merely the ex¬
pression of an individual opinion. It embodies, as I
think, the opinions of Unitarians generally, respect¬
ing the all-important subject of which it treats. It
opens a wide and most interesting field of remark,
inference, and illustration. But there is no time for
this. Should any be of opinion that the views now
• $
expressed, are not sufficientily strict, let me counsel
them, before they rest in this conviction, to read a
Sermon of Dr. Channing's "On the evil of Sin," also
two Discourses of Mr. Dewey's, " On Retribution,"
contained in his volume of Sermons ; and if, after this,
they can maintain that Unitarian views are not strict
enough, I can only say that they must make the pim-
ishment of hell to consist in something »mew than
elemental fire and brimstone.
Much more remains to be said, and I wish that I
had time to say it. As it is, this sketch of the great
prominent points of the Unitarian belief must suflice.
64
A word or two in conclusion. I have now set be¬
fore you, according to the best of my humble ability,
the more important features of the Unitarian doc¬
trine. Before I conclude, I wish to add, that as we
esteem the religious opinions of others of no sort of
value, save as they lead to a religious life and cha¬
racter, so neither do we value our own but as they
produce the same result. We believe that though a
man's faith, or creed, were faultless, unexceptiona¬
ble ; yea, though it were proclaimed to be so by a
voice from Heaven, and were at the same time un¬
accompanied by that spirit of love, which Jesus Christ
has laid down as the fundamental, the peculiar duty
of his followers,—his sound creed, after all, were no
better than a sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.
And to this duty of love, we give no narrow inter¬
pretation. I need not add, we should have no right
to say this, if we suiferibur love and good will to be
hemmed in by sectarian limits, and could call no man
brother whose religious opinions were not coincident
with our own. No, my friends, we positively dis¬
claim this spirit. We believe that of whatever other
elements it may be composed, there is not in it a
leaven of his spirit and his religion, who said—"By
this shall.all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye
have love one toward another." " We regard the
spirit of love"—says *one whose memory will live
* Rev. Dr. Channing, in a sermon preached at the ordination of the
Rev. Jared Sparks,
65
long, long after he has passed away—" we reg
the spirit of love, charity, meekness, forgiven
liberality, and beneficence, as the badge and dist:
tion of Christians, as the brightest image we can 1
of God, as the best proof of piety ; and there is
branch of benevolence which we think we conc(
of more justly and highly than any of our brethi
I refer to the duty of candor, charitable judgm*
especially towards those who differ in religious o]
ion. We can hardly conceive of a plainer obliga
on beings of our fi-ail and fallible nature, who are
structed in the duty of candid judgment, than to
stain from condemning men of apparent conscientit
ness and sincerity, who are chargeable with no cri
but that of differing from us in the interpretatio
the Scriptures ; and differing too, on topics of gi
and acknowledged obscurity. We are astonish»
the hardihood of those, who, with Christ's warn
sounding in their ears, take on them the responsi
ity of making creeds for his Church ; and cas
out professors of virtuous lives for imagined err
for the guilt of thinking for themselves. We k]
that zeal for truth is the cover for this usurpatio
Christ's prerogative ; but we think that zeal
truth, as it is called, very suspicious, except in n
whose capacities and advantages, whose patient
liberation, and whose improvements in humil
mildness and candor, give them a right to hope, i
their views are more just than those of their ne:
9
»
66
bors. Much of what passes for zeal for truth, we
»
look upon with little respect, for it often appears to
thrive most luxuriantly, where other virtues shoot up
thinly and feebly; and we have no gratitude for
those reformers, who would force upon us a doctrine,
which has not sweetened their own tempers, or
made them better men than their neighbors."
Finally, brethren, let us make it our study and
endeavor—to this end let us direct all our efforts,
and make all our doctrinal opinions subservient—to
take in, and live up to the spirit of these words of
our Great Teacher—" Thou shalt love the Lord thy
God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and
with all thy mind, and with all thy strength ; and
thy neighbor, thy fellow man, as thyself,"
MEASUIJES OF REVIVAEISTS.
«
A
»
SERMON,
«
DELIVERED
SUÍÍDAY MORNING, FEB. 26, 1837,
BEFORE
«
« THE FIRST UNITARIAN SOCIETY IN ALTON »
BY CHARLYS A. FARLEY*
PRINTED BY REQUEST, NOT PUBLISHED.
BOSTON;
MINOT PRATT, PRINTER.
1 837.
The following Sermon is printed at the request of friends who heard it,
but with reluctance by the Author. It was written suddenly in the midst
of a great religious excitement, (which had continued sixteen days, three
services a day, in which several denominations joined, and which is still go¬
ing on) and under the severe pressure of clerical duties, consequent upon an
isolated situation. These and other considerations, would lead him to de¬
cline this step, did he not feel it to be a duty, when he considers the extreme
odium under which the society to which he ministers is laboring, in conse¬
quence of their religious views, and the measures taken by some who differ
from them.
Alton, lUinois, "Feh* 28, 1837.
%
SERMON
ACTS XX. 24.
4
NONE or THESE THINGS MOVE ME.
4
He who devotes himself to the inculcation of truth which is
unutterably precious to his own soul, but offensive to others,
must have a martyr's confidence in truth, and an unshaken trust
in God. Among the most convincing evidences of the sense
which the Apostles entertained of the unspeakable worth of
Christianity, is their unflinching adherence to it when there
was arrayed against them the most diversified and appalling
opposition, especially as it conflicted with all their worldly
interests. It was not only the external proof of the facts up¬
on which they insisted, but an internal evidence in their own
hearts' experience, which bound them in fast adherence to
Christianity itself. They had experimental knowledge of the
truths they taught, and they knew that it was this religion alone,
which could meet and satisfy the wants of human nature.
As they looked into the future, they saw the truth which was
now committed to a handful, going on * conquering and to con¬
quer.' They were satisfied—they returned blessing for cursing,
they seewwlito be ruled by imperative dictation, they felt the
worth of the human soul, they looked calmly upon the whip
and the cross, and said, None of these things move us, we know
whom we worship.
Such always have been, and always will be the feelings of
those who would sow unpalatable truth, if they feel it to be
6
truth, and especially the truth of God. Long and faithful ex¬
perience has proved that popular views are not always the
soundest ; that there is no such thing as having an intelligent
faith, without the active and independent exercise of our own
minds. We may depend, that our minds will not move forward
one step^ nor, as the Puritan Robinson said, will any ^new
light break out from God's holy word,' till we bring to the for¬
mation of our characters, and the formation of our opinions, our
own thoughts, our own reason, our own common sense. There
is scarcely an important truth in religion or in philosophy, but
what at some period or another, has had to contend with the
prejudice and violence of multitudes. Yet the individual
thought of one or a few minds has triumphed. The minority
has become the majority. Truth has lived, and at last settled
down upon its everlasting foundations. Still there are some
things at first painful. Opposition from those whose motives
are earthly, into whose souls a pure love of God and goodness
has never entered, is comparatively a light thing ; but from those
for whose piety you have the sincerest respect, but who mis¬
take the means you use to promote the same glorious end with
themselves, viz. the spiritual regeneration of your race, for
hostility to that end—this at first palsies your energies, and
you pause at the fiery ordeal through which you must pass.
But a calm judgment brings relief. The consciousness of pure
motives, is set against the evil, that they are misunderstood ;
the consciousness that what gives you peace and happiness, will,
if it can find a similar lodgement in other souls, give them the
same ; the undying consciousness that nothing but etenial
and immutable truth can ever live, whether taugb^'by» you or
others ; and above all, a conviction that God's blessing is upon
all righteous enterprises—this restores strength and serenity to
the £oul. We look upon all counter movements to our own
without the smallest misgiving, and say with the Apostle, ' None
of these things move me.'
7
«
I intend to speak plainly, but calmly, and I trust in a Chris¬
tian spirit, of the recent extraordinary measures to produce a
Revival of religion in this town, I ask a candid construction
of my motives, and my remarks* I rejoice (what man calling
himself a Christian does not ?) at any increase of vital piety. I
bless God for any and all manifestations of genuine goodness. I
rejoice when the thoughtless become serious, the worldly-minded
spiritually-minded,—in a word, when bad men become good
men. I rejoice at all legitimate means of awakening the con¬
science, touching the heart, and reforming the life; which lead
men to feel, that they have gained nothing, absolutely nothings
till they have gained a very sincere, humblp, constant and de¬
voted love of God ; that they are ^ miserable and blind and
naked,' till they recognise as their supremest delight, the pres¬
ence, protection and favor of Almighty God; till they engage
in offices of devotion, with as real and hearty interest, as they
engage in any other occupation; till they love virtue for itself,
and hate sin for itself, and have put on the beautiful garments
of righteousness.
But then I differ with many about the way of accomplishing
this object, and I have no sympathy with recent measures,
which seem to me unnatural and extravagant, irrational and un-
scriptural. I see in them no ^ special divine agency,' but a
great deal of human device, and human machinery. I see in
them some good, but more evil. I am willing to give to some
of their authors full credit for the purity of their motives, but
I look upon some of their measures with nothing but grief
and disapprobation.
In the first place, I disapprove of much of their language.
It strikes me as coarse, irreverent and dangerous. It makes
bad men worse. It strengthens the scoffer in his scoffing, and
multiplies sceptics and infidels. The invitation to ^ come and
be prayed for,' is exceedingly offensive, since it assumes that
those who refuse it are enemies to Christ. It runs to this ef-
8
9
feet. ^ Those of you who are willing to come to Christ, and
renounce the world, are invited to come and be prayed for, but
those of you who " hate God " or " array yourselves in hostili¬
ty to God " will stay behind.' ^ God is present with us for a sea¬
son' or ^is passing by,' 'come when the spirit is specially present,
lest you are cast off, and turned into the pit with other express¬
ions which I am not disposed to repeat. Now can any one
doubt that the effect of such language upon many, is to weak¬
en in their minds a sense of God's constant presence, to make
them feel that he is not so truly present in their homes and
closets, as in the Church, that he is partial and capricious ; and
thus lead them to think slightingly of the individual and retired
efforts, of the secret prayers, reading, self-examination and
strivings after real holiness of life which Christianity prescribes,
and upon which our Savior laid the greatest stress ? The tones
of voice too, and demeanor in exhortation and prayer, are arti-
^ ficial and unearthly. Now when we are talking upon other
important subjects, when we are trying to convince a friend of
error, and are earnestly expostulating with him, there is none
of this. We do not address h^^vith a sepulchral and strange
voice and manner, to show him^e are|||arnest, but in the sim¬
ple and natural tones oirían.
I object to other things. The ' anxious seat,'—calling out
individuals to come before a crowded congregation to be pray¬
ed for, in a conspicuous place, in a moment of bewildering ex¬
citement, when the subject of religion has never come fairly
before their minds till they entered the church, and they have
not a moment to reflect calmly, calling them to make pledges,
which the minister has carefully prepared in his own mind, and
which they cannot and ought not thus to make. The crowded
' inquiry meeting' too, where there is solemn whispering, and
an indelicate catechisj^^^he soul with regard to its spiritual
state ; this, with the excessive use of sympathy, applied indis¬
criminately to the young and old, the weak nerves of the inva-
9
lid, the timid and delicate woman, to shrinking sensitiveness,
and an excitable temperament, kept up too from early dawn,
till late evening, for weeks, and without reference to the weath¬
er,—these are measures which I cannot approve. They seem
to me earthly appliances—terrible engines in the hands of a
few misguided men, to break down body and mind into abject
and degrading slavery. They destroy all individual action of
mind. They burn up the heart with feverish irritability; they
convulse the whole moral constitution ; and the minds of the
many, instead of standing fast in that liberty wherewith Christ
has made them free, are surrendered to the coarse dominion of
a few.
Nor can I see the delicacy or propriety of some other meas¬
ures. There are several denominations in town. Every one
without solicitation chooses his own place of worship. He has
the liberty at all limes of going to hear whom he pleases, and
ought to be supposed to have some capacity of self-judgment ;
but individuals, self-appointed or appointed by ^ the church,'
think it proper without any consultation with their minister, and
in defiance of all the common rules of courtesy, to wait upon per¬
sons in their houses or stores, converse with them for hours upon
their errors, and urge them to join in the exercises I have des¬
cribed. There may be no improper sectarianism in this, but
it looks strongly like it. That some of those who engage in these
measures are conscientious men, that they are pious men, I
doubt not, but it is an unwarrantable assumption of privilege.
It is not showing to minister or people a generous treatment of
the faith they hold dear. And moreover there is great danger
that other influences than spiritual ones, may thus indirectly,
if not directly bias the mind.
' Look over,' says a sharp observer* of the ^ signs of the
times' when writing upon this subject six years ago,—VLook
* Rev. Ezra S. Gannett, in a Tract published by The American Unitarian
Association, called < The good and evil of Revivals.'
O
%
Wi
10
over the list of meetings, study the phrases, watch the progress
of a Revival, and see how artificially the conversion of a sinner
is treated ; note how mechanical are the several movements ;
how systematic are all the proceedings; how deliberately and
methodically Christians undertake to " get up " a revival. All
this array of means, this mechanism, this artificial process is op¬
posed to one of the first principles of our religion—freedom—
the free exercise by every one of all his faculties, in the study
and application of Christian truth. Men may indeed be con¬
verted by these methods, but we have no right to break down
the liberty of a single mind,^
Again, I object to the despotic influence of the clergy. Per¬
haps the very worst feature of these religious excitements is
the undue assumption of authority by Christian ministers.
The old fashioned modes of silencing cavils and answering ob¬
jections were by fire, damp dungeons, and other physical instru¬
ments of torture ; but these could only harm the outward man ;
but in modern times, they apply torture to the inner man,
they imprison and cripple the soul, and thus inflict an infinitely
more dreadful punishment. It is high time therefore that we
should ask in what light ministers of Christ should be regarded,
and to what limits they may go. They are entitled by their
office to great respect, for it is a holy and responsible one.
They are supposed to have consecrated their whole souls to the
spiritual regeneration of their people, and to have most care¬
fully prepared themselves for their duties—to have searched
the scriptures with faithful and unprejudiced minds, with single¬
ness of heart, and a feeling of the most solemn responsibility—
to insist upon no argument or measure merely for effect, but
because after being closely examined and weighed, it seems to
them perfectly sound. This I say is supposed to be the pre¬
paration and state of mind of an honest and faithful minister of
Jesus Christ. Consequently the opinions he gives, and the
measures he adopts, ought to be soberly and most kindly pon-
11
dered by his people. But he has no right to lord it over God's
heritage. He has no right to use his privileges to over-urge,
much lebs authoritatively to command his people to take a
stand, for which they are not prepared by the most solemn and
deliberate convictions—to take them by surprise in a moment
of confused excitement and drag them to the altar of Christ.
Religion is the very last subject for hasty measures. Before
we range ourselves under the banner of a particular denomina¬
tion, we ought to have settled these questions ; Are the doc¬
trines here taught rational and Scriptural ? Are the measures
here taken to promote piety safe and agreeable to the word of
God ? Am I prepared for the steps to which I am so vehe¬
mently urged ? These are questions for the calmest leflection
to answer. They call for secret and severe self-examination—
and we should go out as our Savior did—alone—and commune
with our own hearts, and with God. When a minister inter¬
feres with and prevents this ' preparation of the heart and an¬
swer of the tongue ' he is exercising tyranny over the soul ;
he is despoiling it of its most unquestionable and blessed privi¬
lege. He is subjecting it to a torture worse a thousand times
than that of racks and dungeons. His legitimate weapons are
affectionate persuasion, and sober argument; and instead of the
artificial stimulants which are so Industriously applied during
the seasons of Revival—instead of coarse and vehement ap¬
peals to the passions and imagination in the midst of a crowd—
or the inquisitorial catechising in the inquiry meeting '—he
should direct ' the anxious ' to the study of their own hearts,
and the retirement of their own closets. In all ways consistent
with Christian freedom, let him in public and in private, con¬
vince, persuade, pray and furnish his people with all the
means for becoming consistent, humble and thorough Chris¬
tians ; but I appeal to the candid and sober, if the course taken
in Modern Revivals is not admirably calculated to degrade and
debase the soul, and hold it in terrible thraldom. Before
12
«
we boast that the people are no longer under the dominion of
the Clergy, let us see them resist all unwarrantable assumptions
of authority, and scorn to yield themselves in tame subservien¬
cy to their will. The Clergy are spiritual teachers, not in¬
fallible guides or masters. If this is plain speaking, it is be¬
cause of a plain wrong. No duty is more binding on one who
holds my office than to declare his dissent from, and utter disap¬
probation of all measures which he deems injurious to the char¬
acter, and an infringement of Christian liberty, however honest
and pious may be the authors. It is the characteristic of a
truth-loving spirit, to dread all foreign bias in pursuing its own
search, and to shrink most sensitively from unduly influencing
the decisions of others.
I remark in the next place, that the mind is not treated fair¬
ly. The appeal is made chiefly to the passions and the imag¬
ination, and the reason is left to take care of itself. Now
almost precisely the opposite course should be taken. The
understanding should at first be carefully put in possession of
all the materials necessary to form a calm and intelligent
judgment, and then through the understanding may the appeal
be effectually and safely made to the heart's best affections and
feelings. But many Christians are too impatient of this slow
process. They are unwilling that the character should be
built up step by step. They want by strong excitement, to
drive the mind headlong to its destination. Fervency in reli¬
gion is indispensable. ' With the heart man believeth unto
righteousness,' but the proper basis of the heart's feelings is the
conviction of the understanding. The fervency of a strong piety
is not sudden impulse, a turbulent and passionate outbreak of
feeling, out of all proportion to the occasion, but only an ear¬
nestness of soul, which embodies strong faith in strong action.
The torrent is more violent than the river, but it has neither its
majesty nor its strength, which the former either increases by
the addition of its own waters or is diverted into a thousand
13
trifling streams which are dried in their beds, while beneath
the placid surface of the latter, there is a strong under-current,
which carries it forward with resistless might, till it mingles
in the Ocean. The Planets too, move in solemn silence in
their spheres, and the whole mighty machinery of the Universe
is moved by its Great Architect, with inconceivable, but gener¬
ally with noiseless energy. So it is with the soul's best mani¬
festations; quiet, but earnest and strong. Deep feeling is usu¬
ally so. There is a sorrow ^ too deep for tears,' and there is
an affection too deep for utterance- If it is the fruit of a calm
judgment, it is enough. Let the mind see things as they are,
and be calmly convinced, and naturally and affectionately per¬
suaded, and it will settle down into a faith, which without any
noise or show, will produce a consistent, living and permanent
piety. It will bring forth the peaceable, which are always the
best fruits of righteousness. Men will then walk humbly and
trustingly with God. They will take up their Bibles, not be¬
cause it is their duty to read them, but because it is a pleasure
—^because it is increasing that spirituality of mind, which is the
spring of their happiness at all times, and gives them a feeling
of serenity and security, in all their pleasures, in all their busi¬
ness, in all their sorrows. They will feel religion to be as
necessary to their souls, as garments to their bodies. A pure
and undefiled piety will ray out from their characters, as from
a Sun ; or to use the far better figure of our Savior, ^ it will
be in them as a well of water, springing up into everlasting
life.'
My hearers, is not spirituality of mind the great object?
And what is it ? Is it passionate excitement ? Is it convulsive
impulse ? No ! It is intense but calm love of goodness. ^ It
sounds no trumpet. It hangs out no flag.' It grows up higher
and higher, first the blade, then the ear, then the full corn in
the ear. He is a spiritual man, who always feels a sense of
God's presence and boundless goodness, who feels like a child
14
in the presence of a good parent, a feeling as blessed, as it is
indescribable. Prayer is with him no formal thing. Every
morning opens upon him, with a sense of happy and entire de¬
pendence upon an All Perfect Father. He acknowledges
thankfully his goodness, implores his guidance, and bends be¬
fore him for his blessing. The spirit of that prayer he carries
through the day—and so cheerfully and consistently, that
men confide in him, honor him, ay, love him in their ' heart of
hearts ' as the noblest work of God.
With regard to the subjects of Revival operations, I see no
reason for believing that they are operated upon by special
divine influences, nor that those who are not converted thereby,
and strongly disapprove of the measures taken at such times to
multiply converts, are therefore ^ hostile to God.* One man
has a well balanced mind, and is satisfied from his own expe¬
rience, that religion is a very diflFerent thing from what he hears
it represented at one of these meetings. He is not convinced
by the arguments he hears, which seem to him weak and in¬
conclusive. Accordingly he is not moved. Those who hold a
different form of faith, imagine that he is too hard-hearted to
be moved. Butie may be still quite as pious as themselves,
though his views are essentially different, and of course mani¬
fest themselves differently. Another has entirely unsettled
views, is a man differently educated and differently constituted.
The strangeness of the circumstances, the exciting appeals to
his passions and imagination, are too much for him, and he
yields to the excitement of the moment. Another has scoffed
at religion. He is the very man whom I should expect to be
moved. God has breathed into him as into every man a por¬
tion of his own spirit. The religious principle is born with
him, and he has susceptibilities for religious impressions, wljich
no violence to his own nature can wholly quench ; and when
Christian truth can fairly meet and act upon his spiritual na¬
ture, it is ready to spring forth and grow. Such a man car-
15
ries with him every where his affections, his hopes, his fears;
and when his mind is open to religious impressions, the right
chord may be touched, his better self may rebel against the
thraldom in which sophistry, worldliness and sin have held it,
and leap at the trumpet call to duty. Be may be shaken by
fearful representations of the consequences of sin, or touched
by a delineation of God's goodness. The result is, that he re¬
solves upon a change of life. Here, there is no special divine
agency ; no more than in the change which plants undergo,
when placed under different influences. In a cold and damp
cellar they lose their color, and fragrance, and strength; but
bring them up into God's glorious sunshine, let them have the
influence of the rairi, and the pure air, and they grow green
and strong.
O
Much stress has been laid upon the scriptural argument to
show that modern conversions are the special work of the
Spirit of God. But without reason. The reasoning is something
to this effect. Peter's simple converted thousands
at once—therefore our simple preaching will probably produce
similar effects. Let the modesty of this reasoning pass, which
thus places ministers of the present day on a level with inspired
Apostles, who were placed in the most extraordinary circum¬
stances. It rests upon false premises. We read in the Book
of Acts that after Peter's preaching, ^many of them which
heard the word of God believed, and the number of men was
about five thousand,' i. e. many of the five thousand believed.
Nothing is said of miraculous influences. Moreover it is prob¬
able that many of these persons had heard the preaching of
our Savior, and witnessed his miracles unmoved, that they had
also heard the Apostles frequently, and seen their miracles and
were for the first time fully convinced. If so, their conversion
was by no means so sudden as many suppose. When it is said,
that ' multitudes' believed, we read, ^ And by the hands of the
Apostles were many signs and wonders wrought among the
16
«
people/ Modern Revivalists do not work miracles, nor do
they trust simply to their preaching. They do a great many
things as the most effectual modes of accomplishing their object,
which the Apostles did not, and for which they give them no
authority. With regard to the outpourings of the Spirit on the
day of Pentecost, and other cases of its miraculous effusion,
the recipients were endowed with miraculous power. Modern
converts do not produce this evidence of their own miraculous
regeneration. The proof is, that they were powerfully moved,
and felt as they never felt before. We admit all this, but we
do not admit any miracle in the case. We shall not call them
Christians, till we see them manifest the fruits of Christians by
^ patient continuance in well doing.' There is extreme danger
from all such sudden excitements, that those who have felt the
most, will meet with a fearful relapse, and those who have not
been excited at ail, will be more insensible than ever.
I never come from one of these meetings, but I feel myself
translated from a thick and suffocating atmosphere into a seren®
summer of balm and peace. Our Divine Master it is true oc¬
casionally rebuked flagrant and arrogant hypocrisy and sin with
withering reproach, but he prevailingly regards the sinner with
the deepest compassion. He comes rather as a Physician than
a Moral Censor ; anff there is a beautiful correspondence in his
language. They that are whole need not a physician, but
they who are sick. The human soul he could not scorn—not
though it was weighed down, and even loathsome with sin.
No ! he could not scorn it, though it was lost. He hoped for
it, toiled for it, died for it. He found it fainting under the
cares of this world, and he stopped to undo the heavy burden,
and refresh it with the waters of life. He found it crimsoned
with guilt, and he offered to wash it whiter than snow. He
found it sleeping the sleep of death, and he called to it, to
awake—to awake, before it was roused by the trump of the
Archangel to a dreadful retribution. He expostulated, he er>-
17.
treated, he prayed, he wept for the sinner ; and when expostu¬
lation, and prayers, and tears were in vain, he cried, * Oh ! thai
thou hadst seen, that thou hadst known the things which be¬
longed to thy peace, but now they are hid from thine eyes.'
In his teaching he used no coercion. He who knew what was
in man, who knew how to touch all the hidden springs of ac¬
tion, treated human nature with the utmost fairness and gentle¬
ness. He did not attempt to brow-beat, and coerce his hearers,
He spake indeed ' as one having authority, but not as the Scribes.
He listened patiently to all objections and difficulties, and in
trying to remove them, appealed to the free judgment to know
if his arguments were not sound. Did any come with wrong
notions of his character, and the kingdom he was to set up, and
in hopes of reward offer to follow him ? He took no advantage
of their error. He told them it was not his object to build up
a temporal kingdom,—that he had no gold, nor silver, nor of¬
fices to bestow,—that ^ while the foxes had holes, and the birds
of the air had nests, he had not where to lay his head,'—that
they must expect to encounter danger and suffering,—and then
left them to decide for themselves. ^ Whosoever willy let him
come to the waters of life, and drink freely.' He discouraged
too, every thing like that publicity and ostentation in devotion,
which is one of the most offensive features of modern revivals.
* Do not sound a trumpet before thee, to have glory of men.
And when thou prayest, be not as the hypocrites are, for they
love to pray standing in the synagogues, and in the corners of
the streets, to be seen of men, but when thou prayest, enter
into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy
Father who is in secret.' Instead, too, of dwelling upon the
awful vengeance of God, he speaks of his benignity and mercy.
The word hell was rarely on his lips, but with revivalists it is
the burden of their teachings. He delights in picturing God's
goodness, and gathers his illustrations from all innocent, glad,
and beautiful objects ;—from the little child, the lamb, the well
18
of water, the lilies of the field, and the fair sky. The calmness
of the heaven he describes is reflected from his own character.
Were his disciples ambitious ? He set a child in the midst
of them. Were they proud? He washed their feet. Were
they ready to call down fire from heaven, upon those who fol¬
lowed not with theml He tells them,' Ye know not what
manner of spirit ye are of.' Is there not some difference be¬
tween the course pursued by this teacher, and that of many of
those who claim to be following in his footsteps?
Brethren^ I know of no way in which any one can be a Chris¬
tian, but by a very sincere and steady adherence to the exam¬
ple and instructions of Christ, by close self-examination, watch¬
fulness, and prayer. We have but just started as a society,
and have great reason to thank God devoutly for our success
thus far. You have recently been put in possession of my
most deliberate conclusions,* and I trust they will receive as
deliberate an examination. It will always afford me pleasure
to converse with any one upon any points of difficulty, and I
stand ready to meet, argument for argument, any, and all objec¬
tion to the faith I hold. We build upon the Bible as upon a
rock. Let us stand fast in the glorious liberty of the sons of
God,—in that liberty wherewith Christ has made us free. Our
views do not appeal mainly to the most superficial part of our
nature,—our feelings. They address themselves first, and chief¬
ly, to the understanding, knowing that the affections can never
work safely, till the mind has a sure and hearty conviction of
truth. The warmth which is the most desirable, is not scorch¬
ing and blinding, but steady and strong. Devotion is to be
measured, not by the multiplication of religious meetings, and
religious services, but by the uniform tenor of the life, under
all circumstances. I have no misgivings with regard to the
faith I embrace. I believe that it was sent by, and has the
* Referring to a Sermon recently published, entitled, * What is Unilarian-.
ism,' and several Lectures delivered before the Society.
19
sanction of God. I believe it was the faith preached by Christ,
and his Apostles, and delivered to the Saints. I rejoice at the
good it has already done, and I look with strong confidence to
the future. I know that noble minds and noble hearts are en¬
listed in its defence, and as long as it continues to have the
whole strength of their affections, and the whole strength of
their convictions, they will pray for it, toil for it, ay, and by
the blessing of God, build it up in men's hearts. To His bles¬
sing I commend it. Let our motto be, ' Faith, Holiness, Love.'
Let us cling to the great principle of the Reformation,—' The
sufficiency of the Scriptures, and the right of private judgment
or in the words of the immortal Chillingworth, *The Bible, the
Bible, the Bible only is the religion of Protestants.'
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