Oass_ J3Ji4&_ Book J: LECTURES TO YOUNG PEOPLE: 4/ BY WILLIAM B/ SPRAGUE, D. D. PASTOR OF THE SECOND PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH IN ALBANY. WITH AN INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS, BY SAMUEL MILLER, D. D. PKOFE5SOR IN THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY AT PBINCETON. Hefo=¥otft: PUBLISHED BY JOHN P. HAVEN. Packard and Van Benthuysen, Printers, Albany. 1830. v\ Southern District of New- York, ss. ^XXX^- -Be it remembered, That on the fourteenth day of July, A. J). V V 1830, in the fifty-fifth year of the independence of the United States V j Jt <§ # Y of America, John P. Haven, of the said district, hath deposited in i) * this office the title of a book, the right whereof he claims as pro- $........ & prietor, in the words following, to wit: ^••^'■■'-'•"■■•^"■-'V "Lectures to Young People: By William B. Sprague, D. D. Pastor of the Second Presbyterian Church in Albany. With an Introductory Address, by Samuel Miller, D. D. Professor in the Theological Seminary at Princeton." In conformity to the act of congress of the United States, entitled " An act lor the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the time therein mentioned: And also to an act entitled "An act supplementary to an act entitled 'An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the tunes therein mentioned.' and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints." FREDERICK J. BETTS, Clerk of the Southern District of New-York. PREFACE. The plan of the following course of Lectures was suggested to the author, by his having often felt the need of a book to put into the hands of the young, which would yield them counsel and instruction adapted to every va- riety of circumstances. Such a book he has here at- tempted to supply ; — a book designed to guard the moral principles and habits of youth, amidst the temptations of the world ; to impress them with the infinite obligations and advantages of religion ; to conduct them through that most interesting period of anxious inquiry concerning their salvation ; to bring them to a cordial acceptance of the gospel offer ; to assist them in ascertaining their claims to the christian character ; and to enable them to prosecute the various duties and conflicts of the christian life, in such a manner that they may finish their course with joy. Several of these lectures were written during the au- thor's connexion with his late charge at West-Springfield, and the whole course was originally intended especially for the benefit of the youth of that congregation. Since his connexion with his present charge, he has completed the course ; and the several lectures embraced in it have been delivered in the hearing of the youth to whom he now ministers : and it is in compliance with a respectful 1 IV and affectionate request from them, as well as in accord- ance with his original design, that the series is now given to the public. To the youth of his former charge, whose friendly at- tentions he gratefully remembers, and in whose happiness he will ever cherish a lively interest, as well as to the youth of his present charge, whose many expressions of kindness he would gladly meet by his best efforts to do them good, these lectures are now , Affectionately inscribed, With every sentiment of regard, And with fervent prayers for their present and eternal well-being, By their obliged friend, W, B, SPRAGUE- CONTENTS. Page. Introductory Address, by the Rev. Dr. Miller, vii LECTURE I. IMPORTANCE OF THE PERIOD OF YOUTH. PROVERBS IV 10. Hear, O my son, and receive my sayings 1 LECTURE II. DANGER OF EVIL COMPANY. I. CORINTHIANS XV. 33. Evil communications corrupt good manners 13 LECTURE III. DANGER OF EVIL INSTRUCTION. PROVERBS XIX. 27. Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the words of knowledge. 31 LECTURE IV. DANGER OF A LIFE OF PLEASURE- ECCLESIASTES XI. 9. Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth ; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth ; and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes : but know thou, that for all these things, God will bring thee into judgment 5? LECTURE V. REGARD TO THE FAVOR OF THE WORLD CONTRASTED WITH A REGARD TO THE FAVOR OF GOD. I. THESSALONIANS II. 4. Not as pleasing men, but God *71 VI LECTURE VI. RELIGION AN ALL PERVADING PRINCIPLE. MATTHEW Xni. 8. But other fell into good ground, and brought forth fruit 89 LECTURE VII. PERSUASIVE TO RELIGION. LUKE XIV. 17. Come, for all things are now ready 103 LECTURE VIII. EXCUSES FOR THE NEGLECT OF RELIGION. LUKE XIV. 18. I pray thee, have me excused 119 LECTURE IX. AWAKING TO RELIGION. ACTS XVI. 30. What must I do to be saved ? 137 LECTURE X. EMBRACING RELIGION. ACTS XVI. 31. Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved. 153 LECTURE XI. EVIDENCE OF RELIGION. MATTHEW VII. 21. Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven 166 LECTURE XII. PROFESSION OF RELIGION. ISAIAH XLIV. 5. One shall say, I am the Lord's ; and another shall call himself by the name of Jacob ; and another shall subscribe with his hand unto the Lord, and surname himself by the name of Israel 181 Vll LECTURE XIII. DEFENCE AGAINST TEMPTATION. MATTHEW XXYI. 41. Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation * . 197 LECTURE XIV. CHRISTIAN DECISION. DANIEL HI. 18. Be it known unto thee, O king, that we wiil not serve thy gods, nor worship thy golden image which thou hast set up 215 LECTURE XV. GROWTH IN GRACE. H. PETER m. 18. Grow in grace 227 LECTURE XVI. DOING GOOD. GALATIANS VI. 10, Let us do good unto all men 251 LECTURE XVII. THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN^ COURSE. n. TIMOTHY IV. 7 I have finished my course 275 INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS, The man who becomes, by any means, instrumental in guiding a single youth to knowledge, virtue, piety, and true happiness, is a rich public benefactor : for the training of every such youth is a precious blessing con- ferred on his generation. But he who by sending forth a good Book ; a book well adapted to serve as a guide to thousands beyond the reach of his personal address ; and even to exert a benign influence on the temporal and eternal welfare of multitudes, in succession, long after he shall have ceased from his labors ; is a benefactor to man- kind to an extent which no human arithmetic can calcu- late. Not only are his contemporaries rendered much his debtors ; but future generations also will have reason to rise up and call him blessed. It gave me, therefore, unfeigned pleasure to learn that the Reverend Author of the ensuing Volume had been warmly solicited by a number of his friends, and had finally consented, to publish from the press a series of Lectures which had been, with much acceptance, ad- dressed by him from the pulpit to the Youth of his pas- toral charge. My long and intimate acquaintance with him, first as a beloved Pupil, and secondly as a highly esteemed Friend and Brother in the Gospel Ministry, con- vinced me that he was well qualified to execute the task which he was prevailed upon to undertake, with honor to himself, and with benefit to his readers. Of course, when requested to introduce the work to the public, by a preliminary address, I could have no other objection than that which arose from a persuasion that such an in« troduction was altogether unnecessary. It struck me, too, that when a third person, at any time, interposes be- tween an Author and his reader, and claims an audience first, he ought to have something weighty to offer ; more weighty than I can hope to present in the pages assigned to this testimonial of respect and friendship. But what- ever of reluctance may have arisen from these considera- tions, has been made to yield to the suggestion, that if the humblest individual should happen to be induced by this testimonial to procure and peruse the following lec- tures, I shall be richly rewarded for the offering. He who feels admonished by advancing age, that his period of active labor cannot be continued much longer, ought to be " ready to every good work ;" and to be cautious of permitting false delicacy to deter him from the small- est effort to be useful. Since the delivery of these Lectures, I have enjoyed the privilege of perusing a considerable portion of them in manuscript : and although it has not been in my power to extend this perusal to the whole work, yet I have ex- amined so much of it as fully to confirm, and even to in- crease, all my previous expectations in its favor. So far as my opportunity of examination has extended, it is rich and judicious in matter ; neat, perspicuous, and attractive in style ; and peculiarly adapted to engage and reward the attention of enlightened, reflecting, and literary youth. Indeed, if I were asked to point out a manual, better suited than any other within my knowledge, to be put into the hands of students in the higher literary institu- tions, I know not that it would be in my power to name one more likely to answer the purpose than this volume. It is no objection to such a publication as the present, that a number of excellent works on the same general subject, are already in possession of the religious public ; and that several of recent appearance, and much value are in very extensive and useful circulation. The truth is, works on practical religion, like works of devotion, provided they be well executed, can scarcely be too much multiplied. With respect to articles of secular trade, we know that an increase of demand must gene- rally precede an increased supply. But this principle by no means applies to moral and spiritual provision. Here, indeed, the practical rule is rather the reverse. There is no natural demand in the human mind for religious instruction. The supply must precede and create the demand. We must abundantly replenish the market, nay, we must run the risk, as has been remarked, of " overstocking" it, if we would extend the taste for spi- ritual food. Besides, we know that personal and local considerations lead thousands, in every age, to patronize and read that which their own pastors or neighbors have published, when, perhaps, scarcely any thing else would bring them in contact with moral and religious works of the highest intrinsic excellence. Surely, in these cir- cumstances, he who adds a new and excellent manual to those already in circulation, however numerous its prede- cessors, confers on the public a rich benefit. Xll The formation of the youthful mind to knowledge, virtue, and religion, is, in all countries, of incalculable moment. But in this favored country, it is mani- festly a matter of most peculiar interest. In many other communities, the form of the government furnishes a substitute for popular purity. The strong and the prompt arm of power may be brought to bear continually, and may be applied with success to curb the excesses of un- lawful indulgence, and to arrest the violence and the pro* gress of crime. But the vital principle of our govern- ment is the intelligence and virtue of the people. Here public sentiment is every thing ; and those whose cha- racter is now forming, are soon to govern that sentiment, and to hold in their hands the peace, the order, and the happiness, of the community. Now the hope of main- taining order and happiness in any social body without Religion, is a chimera. It never was, and never can be realized. It follows, of course, then, that the religious education of our Youth is, under God, our only hope. It ought to be the prime object of every lover of his coun- try's welfare. The Patriot as well as the Christian ought to desire it, and pray for it without ceasing. With- out it, the elective franchise, highly as we prize the pri- vilege, will be a curse instead of a blessing. Without it, the liberty with which the great Governor of nations has been pleased to make us free, will only serve, in the end, to rivet upon us more ignoble and more wretched chains than any human despot ever forged. If I should see the formation of youthful character upon the prin- ciples of the gospel, becoming an object of earnest and general attention, I should consider it as an infinitely surer pledge of the stability of our national privileges, and the continued progress of our national greatness, Xlll than all the human devices in the world could furnish ; than all the secular improvements, which seem to be the idol of so many millions of our population. Thinking men ought to know, that these mere secular improve- ments, though multiplied and extended to any imaginable degree, can never make a people happy : — nay, that their extension without a corresponding moral and reli- gious improvement, will infallibly serve to render any population more active in corruption, more fruitful in crime, and more opulently and splendidly miserable. There is, perhaps, no class of the community more negligent of the department of Religion, in conducting the education of their youth, than the wealthy and the ho- norable. And to this fact, we are perhaps, to ascribe another, as melancholy as it is notorious ; namely, that the children of what are commonly called the higher classes so frequently fall victims to dissipation and vice. The truth is, there is no portion of our youth who so imperiously need the restraining and purifying influence of Religion, in forming their character and habits as the children of opulent and distinguished families. Why is it that they are so frequently profligate ; and so seldom either retain the wealth which has been bequeathed to them, or keep up the honors which their fathers acquired by knowledge, virtue, or public services ? Obviously because they are commonly furnished with so many means of sensual gratification ; — are placed in circum- stances adapted so strongly to flatter and inflate ; — and are surrounded with a thousand temptations, which are all so many bars to sobriety of mind. In short, feeling, at every step, as if they had something to sustain them besides their own exertions, and as if the advantages of XIV birth and fortune would more than supply the place of personal accomplishments, they too often fall into habits of gross self-indulgence, and soon forfeit all the advan- tages which they fondly imagined could never be lost. Forfeit them, did I say? — far worse than this; — they convert them into means of the most humiliating corrup- tion and degradation ; and thus often fall far lower than some of the most indigent and uneducated of their con- temporaries. That this is the natural influence of wealth and station on the children of those who enjoy them, has been matter of universal experience : so that the in- stances of those who escape the baleful power of these circumstances, and in the midst of them, attain a charac- ter elevated, dignified, and pure, are proverbially rare. Now, can any thing more conclusively prove, that the children of the wealthy and the honorable, stand in more urgent need of the influence of Religion than any other class of the young ; that there is the utmost danger of their being lost without it ; and that nothing can more powerfully tend to guard them against their peculiar temptations, to inspire them with true elevation of sen- timent and affection, and to render every temporal ad- vantage at once an ornament and a blessing ? We often tell the poor, that vital religion (the only kind of re- ligion that deserves the name) is the richest treasure which they can seek for themselves and their children ; that it is adapted to alleviate their sorrows, to sustain them under the heaviest trials of life, to lift them at once to usefulness and enjoyment, and to lead their offspring to the truest and best elevation. But quite as strongly, nay, by arguments of peculiar urgency, may we recom- mend this Treasure to the rich, not only as the best hope of their own souls, but also as the only adequate hope of XV their children ; as the best of all security that those whom they love as themselves shall not prove fugitives and vagabonds on the earth ; and convert all the advan- tages which they, with so much toil, have bequeathed to them, into mere incentives to crime and infamy. With peculiar earnestness would I apply this train of remark to such youth as are enjoying the advantages of a refined literary education ; and particularly to those young men who are ambitious of distinguishing them- selves in the higher walks of literature and science. To such I would say — The object which you seek, is noble, is worthy of your pursuit. But, like every thing else, if it be not sanctified, you will have no ultimate reason to rejoice in it, even if attained. The Religion of Jesus Christ properly understood, and cordially embraced, gives to learning its highest finish ; to genius its most exquisite power ; to poetry its deepest feeling and tenderness ; to eloquence its most resistless energy ; to professional skill its most invaluable aids ; and to political wisdom its hap- piest insight, and preparation for blessing mankind. The groves of Academus will assuredly prove more verdant, more fragrant and more fruitful, by having the " Tree of Life" planted and thriving in the midst of them. Nay, without the presence and power of the u Plant of Re- nown," their most luxuriant growth will be likely to be followed by morbid secretions, and pestilential influences, fitted to countervail, and more than countervail all their richest benefits. The beauties of Homer and Virgil, of Horace, Demosthenes and Cicero^ will be more exqui- sitely relished, as well as more profitably improved, by those who have previously imbibed the true spirit of the Bible, than by any others. We may even go further, 2 XVI and ask, — Can the refinements of classic literature, the in- genious dreams of Pagan mythology, and the recondite lore of mathematical and metaphysical science, fail of doing harm, if not consecrated by the faith and practice of true religion ? Do not both scripture and experience inform us that they are adapted to puff up, and to cor- rupt, if not sanctified by an evangelical taste ? In a word, we may say of every part of education, — If it have not a decisively christian character conferred upon it, — it may boast and illude, it may dazzle and in- flate ; but can never be expected to promote the real purity or happiness of its most diligent votaries. To every aspirant after literary wealth and fame, then, the caution of the inspired Apostle is most appropriate and important — u Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ." There is another thought of deep interest which occurs in this connexion. The highly favored, but most responsible population of this land, is now conducting an experiment of incalculable importance to ourselves and to mankind : — the experiment whether men are capable of self-government ? In other words, whether they cap live permanently and in peace under rulers of their own choice, and laws of their own formation ; or whether they are destined, until the Millenium shall open on our world, continually to vibrate between anarchy and des- potism ; — between the manacles of privileged orders, and the exactions of an established Church — and the infuriated licentiousness of popular profligacy, which refuses to obey any law, either of God or man ? This experiment, (is I said, is now going on ; and it will probably be de- XV11 cided by the men of the next generation ; by those whose principles and characters are now forming. Of course, every youth who is decisively won to the side of christian knowledge and practice, is so much gained to the cause of our national hopes. If, then, we wish to transmit all our privileges, civil and religious, unimpaired, to the latest posterity, let our young men be deeply im- bued with the spirit of the Bible. — If we wish to avert from our country the curse of an ecclesiastical establish- ment, that bane of both church and state, let the Bible, and nothing but the Bible, be impressed upon the minds of our youth, as the only infallible rule of faith and practice. Here, 'and here only, do we find those principles which are equally opposed to slavery and licentiousness. Every young man who has been trained in the spirit of the Bible, will be, as far as his influence goes, an impregnable barrier against every spe- cies of oppression, civil or religious ; and equally against every species of disorder. Only let the great mass of our population for the next forty years, drink deep into the spirit of the Bible, and we may probably consider our stability and happiness as a nation finally secured. The peculiar character of the day in which we live presents a further incentive to the Young to seek after the best of all qualifications for being extensively useful. The lot of the present generation is cast in a period more strongly marked than any that ever preceded it, by a spirit of christian benevolence and enterprise. The friends of God and man are engaged more generally and zealously than ever before, in endeavoring to meliorate the intellectual and moral condition of mankind. That youth, then, who is not intelligently and decisively on XVlli the side of Christ, is not fit to take his part in the great movements which now distinguish, and in some measure pervade the civilized world. He will either be a drone or a cypher in his day ; or unite himself with that large mass who are the foes of all good, and who live for the miserable purpose of persuading men that their true glory will be promoted by trampling upon every divine insti- tution, and dissolving every moral tie, however sacred. Can any youth of elevated sentiments be at a loss to decide which of these ranks he ought to join, and to the aid of which he ought to consecrate all the powers which God has given him ? I need not add, that genuine piety is the best pledge of personal and professional success in life. The youth who consents to embark on the ocean of life, in any profession, without unfeigned piety, is infatuated. He proceeds without compass or chart. He is without any sure "anchor of the soul." He is absolutely desti- tute of any thing suited either to hold, or to direct him securely on the troubled waters. On the other hand, all experience proves, that he who, in entering on his ca- reer, takes the Gospel of Christ as his guide in every pur- suit — derives from it his standard of morals — appeals to it to learn his duty — to solve his doubts — to animate his hopes — and to form all his principles of action, — is in the fairest way to be happy in himself, beloved of all around him, prosperous in his affairs, and favored, in a word, with the best kind of success that true wisdom can de- sire or pray for here below. If man is to be prepared by education for the duties as well as the business of life, then surely that education which alone is likely to purify and quicken the conscience, to elevate the affections, to XIX soften the heart, to inspire with practical wisdom, and to bind the individual by the ties of supreme love to God, and by those of enlightened and impartial benevolence to men, is adapted to promote in the highest degree, per- sonal and social happiness, in this life, as well as in that which is to come. In forming the religious character here recommended, it is of the utmost importance that the foundation be laid in clear views of divine truth. Doctrinal knowledge is apt to be undervalued by private Christians, and especially by the young. They imagine, according to the popular prejudice, that if the heart be right, and the conduct cor- rect, the doctrines embraced are of small moment. This supposes that the heart of any one may be right, while his principles are essentially wrong ; or that his practice may be pure, while his religious opinions are radically er- roneous. But nothing can be more contrary both to Scrip- ture and experience. The great Founder of our holy Reli- gion declares that men are " sanctified by the truth." In fact, it is only so far as the truth is received, loved and obeyed that real religion has any place either in the heart or life. To suppose that any one can be sanctified, or in any respect benefited, by embracing error, is as repugnant to reason as it is to the word of God. He who u has a hope in him," ought ever to be ready to " give a reason for it with meekness and fear ;" and he will be ready to do so, if his hope be scriptural and intelligent. It is me- lancholy to think how frequently this matter is in a great measure disregarded by professing christians, otherwise well informed. Physicians, Lawyers, Merchants, and others, who confidently call themselves by the name of Christ, who have given many laborious days and nights XX to the acquirement of other kinds of knowledge, and who would be ashamed of being found ignorant of those branches of literature or science to which they profess to have attended, manifest no shame whatever in acknow- ledging themselves ignorant of the plainest subjects in Theology. It is not intended here either to assign the reasons, or to show the sin and folly of this deplorable fact ; but to remark that the foundation of this fact is commonly laid in youth. If the young, and even the thinking and serious portion of the young, were as care- ful to store their minds with elementary principles, and with clear, discriminating views of revealed truth, as they are with the best and most accredited elements of other sciences, we should not find so many hoary-headed christians unable to defend their own professed principles, and led astray by the artful votaries of error. That firm and accurate foundation of knowledge which is laid in youth, is most apt to remain unmoved, and to serve as a basis for the loftiest and most useful superstructure in after life. But, above all, let the Young see to it, that they con- tent not themselves with a mere doctrinal, or speculative religion. Listen, beloved youth, to the Servant of God, when he faithfully tells you in the following pages, that your nature is in a state of moral ruin ; that you need pardoning mercy, and sanctifying grace ; that you must be " transformed by the renewing of your minds," or be for ever shut out from the kingdom of God ; and that that religion which will effectually serve you, either in life or death, must reign in the heart, and govern the conduct. The principles and the practice to which he invites you, are not those of a sect or party, but those of the Bible ; XX and without some experimental acquaintance with which no one is a Christian. And the more cordially and prac- tically they are received, the more efficient will be their sustaining and sanctifying power, and the more benign the influence which they will diffuse over your whole character and destiny. May the Divine blessing rest on this and every other attempt to conduct our precious Youth to knowledge, piety and salvation ! SAMUEL MILLER. Princeton, July, 1830. LECTURE I. IMPORTANCE OF THE PERIOD OF YOUTH. PROVERBS IV. 10. HEAR, O MY SOST, A2TO RECEIVE MY SAYINGS. It can hardly have escaped the observation of any reader of the Bible, that a large part of the writings cf Solomon, and especially of his proverbs, have a peculiar adaptation to the circumstances of the young. From this fact it is doubtless a legitimate inference, that he at- tached a peculiar importance to the period of youth ; and as he was unrivalled for practical wisdom, and wrote un- der the inspiration of God, we may fairly conclude that his opinion on this subject is correct. It is, moreover, an opinion which has been held by the wise and good of every age ; and it requires but a moment's reflection to perceive that it is built on a correct view of the principlevS of human nature, and of the connexion between man : s character and destiny. Youth is a period of great importance. To illustrate this truth is the object of the present discourse. I. The importance of the period of youth is manifest from the consideration that it is the commencement of a rational and immortal existence, the condition of which is, in same important respects, concealed from us. A Youth is the commencement of a rational existence. There are orders of being below us, which we contem- plate with various degrees of interest, according to their different properties. We look, for instance, with higher emotions upon the operations of vegetable life in the flower unfolding its beauties, or the tree stretching forth its boughs towards heaven, than we do upon the clods of the valley. In the brute creation, we discover evi- dences of a still higher creating agency ; for they are endued with animal life and instinct ; with a capacity for enjoyment and suffering. But man, though only next above the brutes in the scale of being, leaves them, in respect to his capacities, at an immense distance. Su- peradded to his animal nature, is the gift of reason ; a principle which is capable of an indefinite expansion ; by which, standing on this earth, he can measure the hea- vens, and explore the distant parts of creation. More- over, he has not only an intellectual, but a moral na- ture ; he has a conscience, which recognizes God as a moral Governor, and his law as the rule of duty ; and which more than intimates the fact of an approaching retribution. He is susceptible of enjoyment and suffer- ing, not merely as an animal, but as an intellectual and moral being ; and it is in these higher departments of his nature, that he is capable of enjoying the bliss of a se- raph, or of being tortured with the agony of a fiend. However lightly man may think of himself as a creature of God, or however he may abuse his own powers, he is gifted in a manner which evidently points to some mighty result. But it were a supposable case, that man might be en- dowed with the very powers which he now has, and yet, by an annihilating act of the Being who created him, his existence might, at some future period, be blotted out; and in this case, even the mighty capacities of the soul would, in a great measure, lose their importance. But man is not only gifted with reason, but is destined to immortality. Time was, when he had no existence ; but in all future time, he will be a living, intelligent, active being. When the foundations of the earth were laid, and the heavens spread out as a curtain, he did not exist to witness that exhibition of Almighty power ; but when the heavens shall be rolled together as a scroll, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, he will exist, not only as a spectator, but a sharer in those amazing scenes. And farther and still farther onward in the progress of ages, even to an interminable duration, his existence will be protracted : it is not at his option whether it shall be continued or not ; for immortality is entailed upon him ; and though by his conduct he may affect the condition of his being, he can never accom- plish the extinction of it. But though it is certain that man is destined to an end- less existence, there is much in respect to the character of it, which, at its commencement, cannot be known, ex- cept by the Creator. This is true even in respect to the present life. No one can predict with certainty what his condition will be, even during the brief period of his sojourning here : whether he is to be signally blessed by the smiles of Heaven, or to be unusually buffetted by the storms of adversity, is a problem which no present cir- cumstances can enable him to solve. And so in regard to a future existence — we cannot decide in respect to any one, at his entrance into life, whether he is hereafter to be an heir of glory or an heir of woe ; — a companion of fiends or a companion of angels. Such is the mutability of the world, the treachery of the heart, the sovereignty of God, that the condition of our being, both in the pre- sent and future life, must be, in a great measure, con- cealed from us, till we learn it by actual experience. Collect now the several circumstances which have been mentioned under this article, and tell me whether they do not invest the morning of human life with pe- culiar interest. It is the period in which a rational soul commences a career as unlimited as the existence of Je- hovah, and attended by joy or woe which imagination in its boldest flights never conceived. And over the whole path of the soul's existence, there hangs, at present, a fearful uncertainty : no one can say, in what manner these unfolding faculties are hereafter to be employed ; whether in serving God or in opposing him ; whether in bringing upon the soul a perpetual shower of blessings, or an everlasting torrent of wrath. Is that an interesting mo- ment, when the inexperienced adventurer steps from the shores of his native country, and trusts himself to the mighty deep, to be borne to some far distant region? How much more interesting the period, in which an im- mortal soul commences the voyage of life, not knowing how much he may be tempest-tossed during his passage, or whether he may not even be wrecked on the dark coast of eternity! If, in the former case, the eyes of anxious friends follow the mariner as he goes off into the deep, is it not reasonable to suppose, in the latter, that the watchful regards of angels are attracted by the condi- tion of a young immortal, whose character is yet to be formed, and whose destiny is yet to be revealed ? II. The importance of the period of youth is farther evident from the consideration, that probably ', in most cases, it gives a complexion to the whole future existence. Every moral action, no doubt, exerts an influence on the prevailing disposition of the person by whom it is per- formed ; and if we could subject the character of an in- dividual, at any given period, to a rigid analysis, we should find that it was precisely that which might be ex- pected from the combined influence of all his previous moral actions. There are instances in which a single action, and that in itself apparently an unimportant one — has manifestly decided the character and the destin}^ for life. One wrong decision has not unfrequently been the means of clothing the prospects of an individual with gloom and disgrace ; while one good purpose, one victory gained over temptation, has often proved the seed which has yielded a rich harvest of reputation and virtue. But if the influence of a single action, whether good or bad, has often such a decisive and visible bearing upon future character, what shall be said of the combined in- fluence of all the actions which an individual performs, during a considerable period of life, and especially in the season of youth ? It is at this period that the habits of thought, and feeling, and action, are formed ; that the in- clinations usually become fixed ; and the whole character assumes a definite complexion. It would seem probable, therefore, antecedently to experience, that, in general, the first impulse given to the mind and heart would be the decisive one. But what reason teaches, experience abundantly confirms. If we look abroad into the world, some indeed we shall find who have disappointed the hopes which they early awakened in respect to useful- ness and piety ; and others, whose early life was a scene of profligacy, who have afterwards been plucked as brands from the burning ; but in the great majority of instances, it will appear that the direction which the cha- racter received in youth, is retained in every succeeding period of life. In far the greater number of cases in which you see old age cheered by the hopes and com- forts of religion, you will find that the foundation of this tranquillity was laid in the morning of life ; and on the other hand, where you see hoary headed vice shuddering in despair on the borders of eternity, it will usually be safe to conclude that the agony which you witness is to be referred especially to the early neglect of religion. Hitherto I have spoken only of the influence which the period of youth exerts upon the subsequent periods of the present life : but its influence is equally decisive upon our whole future existence. In many cases, in- deed, the season of youth constitutes the whole period of A2 life, and of course, the whole period of probation : in all such instances, none can doubt that it must be decisive of the soul's everlasting destiny. Nor is the case materi- ally different, where life is continued even to old age ; for if our condition in a future world depends upon our cha- racter at death, and if our character in the later periods of the present life usually takes its complexion from the period of youth, then it follows that the influence of this period reaches onward to eternity ; — that it is emphati- cally the seed-time for eternal life or eternal death. III. Another consideration which still farther illus- trates the importance of the period of youth is, that it fur- nishes peculiar advantages for rendering the whole future existence happy ; or for becoming practically religious. There is a general susceptibility of character attending this period, which is favorable to the cultivation of reli- gion. I mean not to imply that the human heart is not originally the seat of corrupt inclinations ; for that were to call in question not only the decision of the oracles of God, but the results of every day's experience. But this melancholy truth notwithstanding, it admits of no ques- tion that there is something in the very state of the soul during the period of youth, which may be said in a com- parative sense, to favor the work of its own sanctifica- tion. The understanding, not having been brought under the dominion of prejudice, is open to the reception of truth. The conscience, not having had its dictates frequently opposed and trifled with, is ready faithfully to discharge its office. The various affections of the heart are easily excited ; and more easily than at any subse- quent period, may receive a right direction. Who will not say that there is in all this a most desirable preparation for becoming truly religious ; especially when the state of the soul to which I have here referred, is contrasted with that almost invincible prejudice, that deep moral insen- sibility, which often results from long continued familiarity with the world. Another advantage for embracing religion connected with this period, is, that it is a season of comparative leisure. True it is indeed that the want of time can never be reasonably urged by any human being, whatever may be his age or condition, as an apology for the neglect of religion ; but there is no period in respect to which it has so little even of the semblance of reason, as that of youth. Then the cares of the world which cluster upon manhood, are comparatively unknown. The more active scenes of life — the strife of business, the din of worldly enterprise, are seen and heard only at a distance. Not as in subse- quent life, is there a family to be provided for, and a thousand domestic cares pressing upon the heart, and putting in requisition the hands- There is much leisure for serious reading ; especially for reading the volume of inspired truth, which is given to be a light to our feet, and a lamp to our paths. There is much leisure for se- rious reflection, and self-examination ; for applying the truths of God's word to the regulation of the heart and life. There is much leisure for private communion with God ; for christian intercourse ; for attendance on the various means of religion ; in short, for every thing which may be instrumental either of the renovation of the soul, or of its growth in grace. The season of youth, however it may be employed, is emphatically the leisure season of life ; and he who does not find time to become religious then, has no reason to expect that he shall ever find it afterwards. It is another favorable circumstance in respect to the period of which I am speaking, that the efforts which are then made towards a life of religion, meet a peculiarly ready and cordial co-operation from christian friends. When the christian looks upon the veteran in sin, who has reached an old age of carelessness, though his eye may affect his heart, as he reflects upon his character and his doom, yet the hopelessness of the case seems to damp resolution, and discourage effort ; and even when he dis- 8 covers in him some relentings in view of the past, or some anxiety in respect to the future, it is difficult for him to regard even these as symptoms of thorough reformation. But in regard to the young it is far otherwise. So much is there in their circumstances to favor religious impres- sions, that christians are peculiarly encouraged to be faithful towards them. This is true especially of pious parents. They look upon their children, in the morning of life, with a mixture of concern and hope ; and they are prompted not only by christian feeling, but by parental affection, to do every thing in their power to secure their salvation. Hence they often warn them of the danger of a life of sin, and urge them to enter immediately on a life of religion. Hence, every indication of serious feeling on the part of their children is regarded by them as a signal to double their diligence, in pressing upon them their obli- gations, and in endeavoring to bring them to repentance. Hence too, they make them the objects of daily prayer, and not only bring them around the domestic altar, but earnestly intercede for them in the closet. Nor are these efforts for the young confined to parents ; but christians in general feel themselves especially called upon to labor and strive for their salvation ; and whenever they show any symptoms of anxiety, there are many around them who stand ready to second every effort they make to escape from the wrath to come. And is it not a privilege, my young friends, thus to be wrestled for by christian parents ; — thus to be borne on the hearts of God's people ; — thus to be counselled, and exhorted, and aided by those who are walking in the path to heaven ? Let repentance be delayed to old age, if indeed old age should ever ar- rive — and where then will be the pious mother to embalm her supplications with her tears ; or where will be the companion in years to encourage and accompany you in the rugged path of self-denial ; or where will the chris- tians be found who will have hope enough in respect to you to come, while your last sands are running, and plead you with the earnestness which they now manifest, to prepare for heaven ? As the last and perhaps the most important advantage for becoming religious, which belongs to the season of youth, I would say that the Spirit of God then, more fre- quently than at any other period, exerts his gracious in- fluences. These influences he does indeed exert at every period ; and sometimes even when the heart has become incrusted with the mildew of spiritual death : but expe- rience proves that the young are far more likely to be the subjects of them than persons at a more advanced period of life. To them he speaks most frequently through the dispensations of Providence, the preaching of the word, the operations of conscience, and even the vanities of the world, and charges them to make religion the object of their immediate and supreme regard. And I may appeal to the fact that his efficacious influences actually are ex- erted during this period far more frequently than in any subsequent one ; that much the larger part of all who embrace religion, do it in the morning of life. Let re- vivals of religion be brought to testify on this subject ; and if I mistake not, you will find that, while a multitude of youth, during these scenes of divine mercy, are seen pressing into the kingdom, there are comparatively few who have reached the period of middle life, and only here and there an individual from the ranks of old ao*e. What o does this fact prove, my young friends, other than that the Holy Spirit is peculiarly ready to exert his influences in bringing you to repentance ? IV. My last general remark illustrative of the impor- tance of the period of youth, is, that it is fraught with peculiar dangers. In illustrating this article, I shall take for granted the fact that man is naturally inclined to evil ; — a fact which, you will readily perceive, must invest with much addi- tional importance the several sources of danger to which I shall refer. 10 There is danger resulting from that very susceptibility of character, which has already been mentioned as fa- vorable to early piety. For if the mind is then peculiarly susceptible of truth, it is also proportionably susceptible of error. If the conscience possesses all its native sensi- bility, opposition to its dictates must exert a peculiarly hardening influence. If the feelings may be excited, with comparative ease, in favor of religion, they may even more readily be enlisted against it. And hence the melancholy fact is, that in a multitude of instances, the understanding, the conscience, the affections — the whole man, has be- come enslaved to a life of sin, at the very period when he was most susceptible of the influences of piety. Let no young person then repose in the conviction that his mountain stands strong, and that he is in no danger of becoming a hardened transgressor, merely because he is occasionally roused, or melted, or agitated, under the exhibition of divine truth : let him take heed lest the enemy come, and avail himself of that very susceptibility, to bind him hand and foot with the cords of depravity and error, and consign him over to a most fearful destruction. Moreover, youth is a season of inexperience ; and this constitutes another source of danger. Every one knows that our most valuable knowledge is derived from expe- rience ; that it is far more accurate, more deep, more practical than any other. But of this the young, from the nature of the case, cannot, in a great degree, avail them- selves ; as it is the exclusive prerogative of riper years. They have had but little experience of their own hearts ; but little opportunity of tracing out the sources of human conduct, of becoming acquainted with the evil principles which lurk within them — the treachery, perverseness, rebellion, which constitute the elements of man's depraved nature. They have had but limited experience of the world, and are very inadequate judges of its true charac- ter. They have ordinarily seen only its bright side ; have not often been pierced by its ingratitude, or betrayed by 11 its faithlessness, or stung by its neglect. Of its tempta- tions too, of the stratagems of the wicked, of the serpen- tine influence of worldly pleasure, they know compara- tively little. How manifestly does this want of experience give the world which they are entering, a powerful ad- vantage over them. With but a slight knowledge of themselves, they are liable to misjudge in respect to the circumstances in which they shall be safe, and to put character and happiness in jeopardy, from a wrong esti- mate of their strength to resist temptation. With but a slight knowledge of the world, they are in danger of trusting it where it intends to betray ; and of being carried headlong by its influence into the vortex of pleasure and vice, while yet they have scarcely suspected that they were beyond the limits of virtue and safety. Many a youth has gone into the haunts of sin, and finally into the world of wo, because at the commencement of his course, he did not suspect the danger. Again : the world has its thousand snares ; and here is another source of danger to the young. There are scenes of pleasure, which are misnamed innocent ; which, while they avoid the grossness of dissipation, wear a bright and fascinating aspect to the young, and strongly tempt them to the neglect of religion. There are scenes of profane and intemperate riot, which, though enough to sicken the heart of piety, hold out a powerful temptation to many who have given a few of their first years to what is called innocent pleasure. There is the stage, with all its splendid apparatus for destroying im- mortal souls. The most burning strains of eloquence, and the most melting strains of music ; the exquisite ef- forts of the pencil and of the chisel, are all prostituted to make an appeal to the youthful heart in favor of irre- ligion and licentiousness. There are evil books, written with a pen dipped in the poison of asps, for the very pur- pose of carrying to the youthful breast the elements of pollution and death. There are evil men, yes, and evil 12 women, too, who go about preaching the doctrine that religion is a dream, and death an eternal sleep ; who en- circle the unwary youth, in his down-sitting and his up- rising, with the snares of death ; and who are prepared to celebrate the wreck of his principles and of his hopes, with a shout of fiendlike exultation. In these circum- stances, who will not say that the most appalling dan- gers hang around his path ? And now, in view of all that has been said, is it not manifest that youth is a period of great importance ? I ask you , my young friends, whether, as the commence- ment of a rational and immortal existence, and as the period which is probably to give a complexion to that existence, it is not too important to be devoted to any other purposes than those for which it was designed ? Is it not too important to be wasted in careless levity, in vain amusement ; in any of the unfruitful works of dark- ness ? Are not its advantages for becoming religious too important to be neglected ; its dangers too serious to be regarded with unconcern ? This critical and deeply in- teresting season will soon have passed away, and the pe- riod of manhood will succeed. The period of manhood, did I say ? Ah, it may be the period of retribution ; that in which the soul shall be mingling in the hosannas of the redeemed, or the wailing of the lost. But wher- ever, or in whatever circumstances, future years may find you, rely on it, the period of youth will have con- tributed much to make you what you will then be, both in respect to your character and condition. Regard each moment then as a price put into your hands to gain wis- dom ; and remember that now, now, emphatically in re- spect to you, is the accepted time ; now is the day of salvation. LECTURE II. DANGER OF EVIL COMPANY. 1st CORINTHIANS XV. 33. EVIL COMMUNICATIONS CORRUPT GOOD MANNERS. Nothing is so valuable to man as his character. This is proverbial even in regard to the present life. Strip him of every thing else, and leave him with a good con- science, and what will probably attend it, a fair reputa- tion, and all that you do will be comparatively harmless. You may have wounded his sensibility, or overcome his resolution, or clouded his worldly prospects ; but he has that which, in the end, will be likely to place him above the power of malice. His character is a broad shield, which the arrows of adversity, and even the sting of de- traction, can never effectually penetrate. Be his circum- stances what they may, the fact that he has a good con- science and a good character, may justly render him con- tented and fearless. But if the character which is formed here, be impor- tant in its relation to our present existence, it is infinitely more so, as it stands connected with eternity. This life is the only period of our probation. It is a school in which we are training for an immortal existence. Every moral action of our lives will exert an influence upon us either in heaven or hell ; and the sum of these actions B 14 will decide the complexion of our characters, and of course, our eternal destiny. If these remarks be just, then it clearly follows that there is no part of our conduct which ought to be con- sidered unimportant. The least departure from duty, the least violation of conscience, may be a seed which will produce a harvest of everlasting wo. It may be the germ of a sinful habit. It may be the first of a pro- gressive series of wicked actions which will extend through eternity. It may prove the outer door to the temple of vice ; and he who enters it, may reasonably expect to be led on, till he has explored all its scenes of pollution and darkness, and till he finally sacrifices his immortal soul on the altar of confirmed profligacy. Perhaps there is no influence so uniform and so pow- erful in the formation of character, as that of example. This results from the fact that we are creatures of imi- tation : there is a principle in our nature which leads us instinctively, and from our earliest childhood, to copy the manners of those with whom we associate. This, to a great extent, is involuntary ; insomuch that persons have often unconsciously contracted peculiarities of character, which, when they were reminded of them, they could instantly trace to the example of some friend. I do not here inquire whether we are more likely, from our constitution, to imitate good or bad examples ; but only speak of the general influence of example, of whatever kind, founded on the fact that we are naturally imitative beings. The considerations at which I have now just hinted, viz. that with the characters which we form here, must be connected not only our present but eternal condition, and that there is no influence more powerful in forming these characters than that of example ; — these conside- rations, I think, must prepare you suitably to estimate the subject to which I am about to call your attention ; — I mean the danger of evil company. I wish each 15 one of you to hear for himself ; and to let conscience make a faithful and honest application ; and it is my ear- nest prayer to God, and I doubt not that it is the prayer of your parents who are here among you, that you may so "listen, and so apply, that this discourse shall prove the means of making you better and happier through eternity. That evil company has a corrupting and dangerous ef- fect, is a fact so well understood, and so universally ac- knowledged, that it would be quite superfluous to enter into any direct proof of it. The wisest man in the world has long ago said that " a companion of fools shall be destroyed ;" and who has not seen the assertion ve- rified in instances almost innumerable ? It will be more to our purpose, therefore, to show you the process by which evil example operates ; or to notice the different principles which it brings into action, in corrupting the morals, degrading the character, and ruining the soul. I. The danger of associating with wicked companions commences in the fact that it renders vice familiar. I know it has been fashionable to say, in the language of a distinguished poet, that " Vice is a monster of so frightful mein, " That to be hated needs but to be seen ; M and on tins principle some have gone so far as to justify the most profane and licentious exhibitions of the stage ; and have gravely contended that those splendid scenes of impiety, decked out with all that is most attractive and provoking to the sensual appetites, are fitted indirectly to nourish good affections, and lead to a virtuous life. The fundamental error of this kind of philosophy is, that it overlooks the melancholy fact that man is a being of de- praved inclinations ; and the moment you bring him in contact with vice, you place by his side a companion to whom his arms and his heart involuntarily fly open. However you will account for the fact, all experience proves that there is a tendency in human nature to go , 16 astray ; and that while nothing more than the absence of restraint is necessary to the formation of evil habits, a habit of virtue and piety is always the result of fixed resolution and severe effort. If then the state of the heart naturally be such as to render it most sensible to the solicitations of vice, you will easily perceive how this consideration operates to invest all needless inter- course with evil company with great danger. You may apply fire to materials which are exposed to the frost and damps of winter, and you will find it difficult to produce a flame ; but if you bring it in contact with some highly inflammable substance, you will see a blaze, or hear an explosion, in an instant. In like manner, if all our in- clinations were originally on the side of virtue, the dan- ger from being familiar with vice might be comparatively small ; but the case becomes greatly changed, when it is recollected that we have within us evil propensities, which are ready to kindle as soon as the torch of temp- tation is applied to them. I am aware that the circumstances of our present con- dition sometimes necessarily lead us to witness scenes of wickedness ; but this, so far as it is unavoidable, is to be considered as constituting part of our trial, and as making a loud demand for our vigilant activity and resistance. But in a large part of the instances in which young per- sons are the witnesses of vice, it is not because Provi- dence places them in the way of it in the course of their duty, but because they are prompted by inclination. Now let me say that those of you who have yielded so far to curiosity, or any other principle, as to place your- selves deliberately and unnecessarily in the way of vice, — I care not what kind it is — have unconsciously en- tered into a league with it. The fatal poison is already in your hand, and unless you cast it from you without delay, in all probability, you are ruined. 17 II. It is the tendency of mixing with bad associates, to benumb and finally destroy the moral sense. By the moral sense, you will understand me to mean that faculty or principle of action, partly of an intellec- tual and partly of a moral character, by which we dis- cern the difference between right and wrong, and ap- prove the one and condemn the other. In some, I sup- pose, this faculty is originally more active and delicate than in others ; but in all, it is an essential part of the human constitution, and is indispensable to moral agency. It is easy to see that in the formation of character, much will depend on cultivating or neglecting to cultivate it ; and of course, whatever contributes to render our moral perception less accurate, or our moral sensibility less keen, must proportionably put in jeopardy our virtue. Now let me ask whether the voice of universal expe- rience does not decide that mingling in evil company, and witnessing evil examples, has this unhappy ten- dency ? Have not even persons of an established prin- ciple of piety, who have been called, in the course of providence, to mingle in scenes of wickedness, found it exceedingly difficult to maintain that high and awful sense of the evil of sin, which they wished to culti- vate ; and have they not been obliged to fortify them- selves against this deadening influence, by a double degree of watchfulness and prayer ? But perhaps there are some before me who can bear testimony on this sub- ject from experience. Can you not remember the time when some particular vice, say that of profane swearing, or gaming, or drunkenness, excited in you emotions of disgust and even horror ; — when you could hardly look upon its miserable victim without an aching heart ? But it may be that you have since frequently been in vicious company ; and the sounds of blasphemy and the riot and loathsomeness of intemperance have become familiar to you ; and has not this familiarity rendered you in- sensible, in a great degree, to the odiousness of these vi- B2 18 ces ? Nay, are there not some among you who can now commit, without much remorse, sins, the very thought of which would once have made you tremble ? Look back, young man, and see how far you have already fallen towards the gulf of profligacy and ruin ; and then, in the light of your past experience, and over the ruins of a good conscience, look forward and prophecy con- cerning your future doom ! The extinction of the moral sense is usually very gra- dual, and the progress of its decline is often marked, with great accuracy, by the conduct. Every one knows that conscience is originally one of the most active and powerful of all the inhabitants of the human breast ; and that she will never yield up her authority till she has sustained a severe struggle. There is nothing, perhaps, in which this conflict is more clearly marked, than in the progress of a young man, who has had a pious education, towards a habit of profaneness. Though he has been accustomed occasionally to hear the language of cursing from others, the impressions of his childhood are too strong, to allow him immediately to copy it. At length, in an evil hour, he summons resolution enough to make the awful experiment of uttering an oath ; but his fal- tering tongue and blushing cheek proclaim, that there is a commotion and a remonstrance within. Conscience rouses up all her energies, and thunders out a rebuke, which almost puts him into the attitude of consternation. Perhaps his early resolutions to reverence the name and authority of God, come thronging upon his remem- brance ; — or perhaps the instructions of other days, en- forced by parental affection, rise up before him ; — or it may be, that the image of a departed parent, who had trained him up in the way that he should go, haunts his busy and agitated mind, and reproaches him with filial ingratitude. He resolves that the dreadful privilege of taking the name of God in vain, has been purchased at too great expense ; and that he will not venture to re- 19 peat an experiment that has been so fruitful in remorse and agony. But presently he is heard to drop another oath, and another ; and in each successive instance, the conflict with conscience becomes less severe, till, at length, this faithful reprover is silenced, and he blas- phemes his Maker's name without remorse, and almost without his own observation. When I see an ingenuous youth taking the first steps in this path of death ; — when I see his countenance change, and hear his voice falter, an*] the embarrassment and awkwardness of his manner tell me that conscience is uttering her remonstrance at the very moment when the language of profaneness is upon his lips, I say to myself, ' Poor young man, little do you know what disgrace and wretchedness you are treasuring up for yourself !' I regard him as having set his face like a flint towards perdition ; and I read on his character, in dark and ominous letters, " The glory is departed /" It is important here to be observed, that the effect of any particular vice in destroying the moral sense, is uni- versal ; that is, by being familiar with any one sin, the mind gradually contracts a degree of insensibility to all others. For instance, if you indulge in profaneness, the sin of licentiousness, or drunkenness, as an offence against God, will not appear to you in its native odi- ousness ; for this plain reason, that, by indulging in sin of any kind, you lose your regard for God's authority. There is also such an intimate connexion between diffe- rent vices, that it is exceedingly difficult to be devoted to one, without being, in a greater or less degree, the slave of more. Remember, therefore, that, in frequenting the company of the vicious, you expose yourselves not only to the particular vices which you may happen to witness in them, but to any others to which subsequent tempta- tions may invite you ; because, when you have once cast off the fear of God, your heart will be open to every bad impression, and will be a soil in which every kind of sin will flourish luxuriantly. 20 III. It is another effect of associating with evil com- pany, that it checks the operation of the principle of shame, or renders one regardless of the opinion of the world* This too is part of our original constitution ; and is so essential and active a principle, that the absence of it is always taken as a decisive indication of con- firmed profligacy ; insomuch that there is hardly a more striking epitome of a thoroughly depraved character, than that he is without shame. Though some higher principle than a regard to the opinion of the world is necessary to constitute an action good in the sight of God, or to be the foundation of a religious life ; and though this principle, like every other, is liable to abuse, and needs to be properly restrained and regulated ; still, no doubt it was intended by Providence to impose a check upon our vicious inclinations ; and so essential is its operation to the welfare, and I may say, the exis- tence of society, that if all those evil propensities which are now kept in check by a regard to the opinion of the world, were allowed to operate freely, it is probable that all the opposition which human laws could make to the vices of men, would be no more than the weakest mound of earth set to defy the angry torrent, as it comes rush- ing from the mountains. If, then, this principle be so important to the preservation of virtue in the commu- nity, and, of course, to the virtue of each individual, surely any thing which has a tendency to extinguish it is greatly to be deprecated ; and that this is the direct tendency of evil company, must be obvious to every one. Here again, I appeal directly to the consciences of those, if there be any such before me, whose experience ren- ders them the most competent judges. When you first associated with those who took the name of God in vain, would not the thought of your ever being heard to utter the same language have crimsoned your cheek with shame ? But after a while, did not this peculiar sensibi- lity to the opinion of the world so far wear off, that when 21 none but your sinful companions were present, you ven- tured a profane expression ; and even after you could swear fearlessly in their presence, was it not a conside- rable time before you could feel willing to hazard an oath in the hearing of your serious friends ? And when, af- ter taking the name of God in vain, you have sometimes turned your face, and been unexpectedly met by the re- proving countenance of some pious friend, have you not been awed into confusion by the majesty of virtue ; and felt that you had done an act which, in the estimation of that good man, would cover you with disgrace ? But you may, for ought I know, have long since bid adieu to all such scruples ; and you may be congratulating your- selves upon the victory you have gained over a prejudice of education ; and you may have become so shockingly familiar with the dialect of hell, that even the presence of the virtuous and good cannot restrain you from it : for all this may be calculated upon as a legitimate con- sequence of being often found in the way of sinners. Just so it is with the sin of intemperance. Probably the greatest drunkard in the community can remember the time when he would have shuddered at the thought of thus foolishly sacrificing his reputation ; and perhaps there was hardly ever an instance in which a man yielded to this kind of temptation for the first time, that he was not thoroughly ashamed of it, and would turn his face from you when you met him in the street, lest your countenance should reveal to him your pity or contempt. But by frequently resorting to the company of drunk- ards, and by repeating a few times the brutish experi- ment, the flush of shame faded from his cheek, and made way for a still deeper hue of crimson, which pro- claims that he is a shameless sot. And so it is with re- spect to every other bad habit. By frequenting the so- ciety of the vicious, a person soon comes practically to regard them as the most important part of the world ; and consequently, his regard for the opinion of the good, 22 and his fear of losing it, are gradually diminished and destroyed. IV. Another sentiment which is brought into operation in aid of a vicious habit, by associating with wicked com- panions, is the dread of being singular. There is nothing that goes to the heart of a young man like " the world's dread laugh ;" or the idea of standing alone ; or of being charged with superstitious scruples of conscience : and this is a principle of which the abettors of vice are always sure to avail themselves, in regard to those who are inexperienced. When a young man, whose mind has been stored with good sentiments through the influence of education, falls into their company, it is wonderful to observe how their invention is quickened for devising means for his destruction. They take care not to display to him all the mysteries of iniquity at once, lest it should produce a shock which should drive him from their society. At first, perhaps, he discovers in them nothing more than an excessive cheerfulness ; and so far, he thinks they may be imitated without much danger. But it is not long before he must take another step ; and if he hesitates and falters now, he sees on one side, a reproachful frown, and on the other, a contemptuous smile : one, perhaps, charges him with unmanly super- stition, and another with the want of independence ; or it may be, the whole fraternity of them set up one general shout of ridicule. At such a moment, I look upon a young man as suspended between life and death ; and as the experiment which is now going forward may result, I expect his eternal destiny will be decided. If I could look into his heart at this awful crisis, I should expect to find it in a state of fearful agitation ; and if the power of reflection had not deserted him, to find him proposing to himself some such questions as these : — " What step is this which I am now tempted to take ? Whither will it conduct me ? May it not ruin my character, and ruin my 23 soul ? What mean these counsels and warnings of my early youth, that now come knocking at the door of my heart ? If I yield, will not the hearts of my pious friends bleed with tenfold deeper sorrow than if I were to die ; — nay, will it not almost send a pang of agony down into the graves of my departed parents, who dedicated me to God, and with their dying breath charged me to beware of a life of sin ? But how can I sustain the anguish of being singular ? How can I bear to be thought mean and spiritless ; to hear these shouts of ridicule, and witness these expressions of contempt ? No, I will not submit to this intolerable burden : I will rush headlong into the haunts of sin, and endeavor to stifle conscience and drown reflection. Cease, then, to trouble me, ye recollections of my early days. Ye pious friends, who have followed me all my life with affectionate wishes and good offices, I can heed you no longer. I will sooner pierce all your hearts with anguish, than to stand alone and try to stem this torrent of ridicule. And you too, departed parents, even if I knew I should disturb the repose of your graves, and plant a thorn in that pillow which sustains your head in yonder lonely mansion, — I could not bear to be singular. Leave me therefore, friends ; leave me, conscience ; leave me, every tender and endearing recollection ; leave me too, ye gloomy forebodings of future misery ; and let me sacrifice myself as quietly as I can ! I can hazard any thing else, even the eternal burnings of hell : but I cannot, I will not, hazard the odium of being singular !" I do believe, my hearers, that many a young man, who now sits in the seat of the scoffer, if he would honestly tell you his whole experience, would be obliged to relate the story of some such conflict as this which I have here supposed ; and it may be that there are young persons before me, who can recollect something like it in their own experience. But if I knew there were such a case, I should hardly think it 24 premature to call upon you to begin even now to mourn for the death of an immortal soul. V. I shall close the illustration of this subject with one more remark ; and that is, that it is the tendency of evil company to separate a person from the means of grace. What though he may live in the midst of christian privileges, and almost at the very threshold of the sanc- tuary ; — will he, think you, enter those hallowed courts, where every thing betokens reverence and purity, when his heart loathes the service of his Maker ? Will he deliberately place himself in the way of reproof for those very vices to which he has deliberately resolved to yield ? Or will he be likely to read the word of God, when he meets his own sentence of condemnation on every page ? I do not say indeed that the whole extent of this evil will ordinarily be realized in the early stages of vice : on the contrary, I well know that its progress, for the most part, is gradual : but I do say — and I appeal to the heart of every profligate for the truth of it — that the tendency of vicious company is, finally, to form a complete separation from all the means of religion. If he be entirely devoted to the service of sin, it were an absurdit}^ to suppose that he should have either time or relish for the service of God ; and even if he attend upon it with external formality for a while, it will soon become too irksome to be continued. And when the means of grace are once abandoned, I know not where we are to look for a more decisive symptom of a hard heart and a reprobate mind. We must not indeed venture to limit the power of the Most High ; but if there ever be a case which, upon all the principles of human probability, we may pronounce hope- less, and in which our most awful apprehensions may reasonably cluster around the destiny of a fallen mortal, surely it is the case of him who has voluntarily cut him- self off from the means of salvation. 25 On a review of this subject, 1. We may see how insidious is vice. From small and almost imperceptible beginnings, it gradually makes its way, till it reduces the whole man to its dominion, and brings into captivity every affection and faculty of the soul. It first throws out the bait of pleasure, and flatters its victim on to forbidden ground ; then it makes him the sport of temptation ; and does not give him over till he is fast bound in the chains of eternal death. In its very nature, it is deceitful ; it is a stranger to all open and honest dealing ; its very element is the region of false appearances, and lying promises, and fatal snares. When it addresses itself to the unwary youth, it puts on a smiling countenance, and makes fair pretensions, and takes care to conceal its hideous features, till, like a ser- pent, it has entwined him with its deadly folds, and ren- dered his escape impossible. For instance, how common is it for young men to yield to the solicitations of evil companions, from the notion that it discovers great inde- pendence of character ! But what sort of independence, I would ask, is that which cannot command resolution enough to resist a few worthless and wicked companions ? What sort of independence is that which had rather put at hazard the interests of eternity, than to brave the sneers of half a dozen vile associates ? The truth is that the person who acts this part, shows himself the greatest coward that walks the earth : he is afraid to encounter the reproaches of those whose censure is the highest praise ; and rather than do it, he deliberately consigns his character and his soul to destruction. Again, how often do young men become profane, from the idea that pro- faneness marks the gentleman ; and that to break out occasionally in the language of cursing, gives them a sort of dignity and importance. But let them go out into the street, and see in what kind of characters this vice is to be found in its most frightful perfection ; and then say C 26 whether they wish to share the honor of profaneness with such companions. Let them listen to the poor drunkard who has fallen down in the highway, and is just waking from his beastly slumber, and they will find him muttering an oath ; cursing the God that made him, or it may be, the hand that is attempting to relieve him. Let them go into the most vulgar circles where not even decency is tolerated, and there they will find profaneness, vulgarity, and intemperance, mingling in the same scene of disgusting riot. And yet they are cheated into the delusion that, at least, an occasional indulgence in this vice makes them more respectable. They are beguiled, as were our first parents by the fatal apple ; and think not of the danger, till it is too late to avert it. 2. We learn from this subject, how dreadful is the character of a corrupter of others. Every wicked man is more or less chargeable with this, whether he parti- cularly intends it or not ; because it is impossible for him to live in the world, without exerting an influence upon those with whom he associates ; and this influence will receive its complexion altogether from his character. But there are men with whom the business of corrupting others is a profession ; who deliberately lay their plans for ruining immortal souls ; who seize upon the unwary youth, like the animal upon his prey, and never leave him till they have accomplished his destruction. I know not that there are any such here : I am willing to believe there are none : but if such a man has been providentially sent to the sanctuary, I cannot feel willing that he should go away without a word of w r arning. And I am not going to expostulate with you in regard to the danger, or cruelty, or guilt of your conduct ; but only to direct your thoughts to one event, which will as certainly overtake you as that there is a God in Heaven. You are hasten- ing to the judgment ; and at that awful bar, you will meet every soul that you have helped to destroy ; and 27 the blood of each of these souls will be upon your own head. Nay, more ; your corrupting influence may be propagated from generation to generation ; and thousands whom you may never see in the flesh, may recognize you at the judgment as their destroyer ; and the united curses of all these miserable beings may be heaped upon you through the ages of a suffering eternity. If your heart has not absolutely received the dark seal of reprobation, or if all the fountains of feeling have not been congealed by the chilling atmosphere of vice, must not the prospect fill you with horror ? 3. The subject supplies an important argument to all in favor of a religious life. It is but too common for persons of vicious character to take shelter under the plea that they injure none but themselves ; and that, whatever the consequence of their conduct may be, they alone must bear it. Never was there a greater mistake. A corrupt example, even where it is not accompanied by a delibe- rate purpose of corruption, mingles contagion with the whole moral atmosphere in which it operates ; and such must ever be its effect, until human nature is subject to a new set of laws. What a powerful motive is here for a life of virtue and piety ! You are acting, not for your- selves alone, but for the world around you ; and when we urge you to a life of religion, we are pleading in be- half of the immortal interests of your fellow men. What an argument also for the most exemplary circumspection on the part of the professed disciples of Christ ! You may have even a living principle of religion, which will secure your own salvation ; and yet for the want of proper vigi- lance, you may be betrayed into practices which will blast the rising germ of youthful promise, and even cause the darkest shades of vice to settle on some heart which had already begun to yield to the impressions of religion. How tremendous the thought that a friend, by a careless and unedifying example, should be instrumental in de- 28 stroying his friend for whom he would even have died ! How delightful, on the other hand, is the reflection that, by yielding your hearts and lives to the purifying in- fluence of the gospel, you may not only save yourselves, but may be preparing to meet some in heaven — it may be, the objects of your tenderest affection — who will have been conducted thither by the light of your example ! Finally : Let every young person be deeply impressed with the danger of his situation, and avoid the beginning of evil. I cannot suppose that there is a youth before me, who has deliberately formed the purpose to resign himself to a vicious habit, and to persevere in it till he shall enter eternity. But I have reason to fear that there are those here in whom this fearful result will actually be realized ; those who are venturing into the path of vice with that most idle of all notions, that they shall retreat early enough to save their souls. Alas, with all your advantages, I fear you have not yet learned the slippery and insidious nature of vice. As well might you think to take the deadly viper into your bosom, and render him harmless by flattering words ; or as well might you drink down the fatal poison, and expect to stop its progress in your system, when the blood had curdled at your heart, as to think of being the companion of fools, and yet not be destroyed. If you enter on a career of vice, and make the wicked your chosen companions, I acknowledge that Omnipotence may, in his adorable sovereignty, pluck you as a brand out of the burning ; but without some special interposition which you have no right to expect, it is altogether probable that you will be lost forever. Your only safety lies in a cordial, practical, immediate recep- tion of the gospel of Christ. Every other guide will mislead you : — this will conduct you safely and certainly to heaven. And now, if such a conclusion would not do violence to all the principles of human calculation, I would faiu 29 believe that all of you have resolved to enter immediately, and in earnest, on a religious life. But probably there are some here, who have not even thought of forming such a purpose ; and perhaps others who have formed it, in whose remembrance it will hereafter exist, as a monu- ment of the power of temptation, or the treachery of the heart. I confess that an ominous gloom settles upon my mind, as it ventures forward to explore the path of these persons through the darkness of futurity. I see them going away from this place, unaffected by all which they have heard, and returning to the haunts of sin with as keen a relish as ever. I see them becoming more and more hardened in vice, turning their backs upon religious instruction, and living as if eternity were a dream, and the word of God a fable. At no great distance onward in the path of life, I discover them struggling under the pressure of adversity. I hear them call to the world for assistance ; but the world turns a deaf ear to their en- treaties. I extend my views yet a little further, and see these same persons on the bed of death. I see by the sinking countenance, the fluttering pulse, the faltering accents, that their conflict with the destroyer has com- menced. I cast an eye around me to see whether any of their former vicious companions are present, to try to sustain them in this awful exigency ; but not one of them is to be seen : theirs was the work of destruction, not of consolation. I see them writhing in agonies unutterable ; oppressed and appalled by the prospect of an opening re- tribution, without a hold in the universe on which to hang a single hope. I hear their lamentations over a mispent life ; their cutting reflections upon their miserable asso- ciates ; their agonizing supplications for a longer space for repentance : and while my eye rests with horror on the frightful impressions that Despair has made upon the countenance, I witness the ominous change, which tells me that the soul is in eternity. And then, amidst all the C2 30 waitings of parental tenderness which surround me ; and while my mind is busy in trying to recollect some word or look which might have been a symptom of repentance ; — even then, from that world where " hope never comes that comes to all," I seem to hear echoed in groans of unavailing anguish, " the harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved!" And is there a youth before me, of whose future lot all this may prove to have been a faithful prediction ? Es- pecially, is there one who has been dedicated to God, and had the benefit of a christian education and parental prayers, in whose experience this complicated wretched- ness shall be realized ? " Lord God, thou knowest !" LECTURE III. DANGER OF EVIL INSTRUCTION- PROVERBS XIX. 27. CEASE, MY SON, TO HEAR THE INSTRUCTION THAT CAIT5ETH TO ERR FROM THE WORDS OF KNOWLEDGE. The primary elements of a good character are good principles. Not that good principles necessarily imply a good character ; for experience proves that passion often neutralizes their influence ; but a truly good character does necessarily involve good principles. Let a system of false opinions in respect to religion once gain possession of any mind, and what can you expect but that from this bitter fountain will issue streams of corruption and death. Hence it is that those evil men who corrupt and destroy the young, are exceedingly apt to assail, first, their reli- gious principles ; not doubting, if they can gain a victory here, that they shall be able, without difficulty, to storm the citadel of the heart. To this end, they often make the great truths of religion the subject of conversation ; assailing them with sophistry on the one hand, and ridi- cule on the other. They thrust into their hands books and newspapers, to occupy their leisure, which are art- fully designed to unhinge their moral and religious prin- ciples. And not unfrequently this malignant agency is exerted in a covert manner ; and the youth is brought in contact with these vehicles of death, and has actually 32 begun to extract the poison, before he is aware of it. In short, every means of corrupting the principles of the young which the ingenuity of man can devise, has been, and still is, employed ; and that too by persons of every rank, from the highest to the lowest in the community. It is in reference to efforts like these that the wise man gives the advice contained in our text : " Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the words of knowledge." In the spirit of this direction, I shall endeavor, in the present discourse, first, to expose some OF THE ERRORS OF WHICH YOUTH AT THE PRESENT DAY are in danger ; and, secondly, urge some considera- tions TO DISSUADE THEM FROM BEING FOUND IN THE WAY OF EVIL INSTRUCTION. I. I am, first, to expose some of the errors of WHICH YOUTH, AT THE PRESENT DAY, ARE IN DANGER. 1. The first which I shall notice, is, that the Bible is not a divine revelation. I am aware that this is, by no means, a day of triumph for infidelity ; and that the man who now openly casts off the authority of revelation, does it at the expense of being branded with at least some degree of public disgrace. Still there are to be found those, even at this day — and I fear not a few — who have hardihood enough to pronounce the Bible a forgery ; who deliberately set themselves to seal this fountain of consolation against the wretched — this fountain of salvation against the sinner. Unhappily, we live so near the period in which the world was con- vulsed by what seemed the momentary triumph of in- fidelity, that infidels of our day find weapons enough for prosecuting their malignant warfare, forged at their hands ; and yet, as it would seem, for no other purpose than to keep a malignant invention busy, they are, from time to time, replenishing their armory with other weapons of their own devising. Those to whom I now refer, are 33 open in their hostility to the Bible : they breathe out the venom of infidelity wherever they go ; and put their books in circulation whenever they have opportunity ; and glory in their shame. But there are others who lend their aid to the same cause by means a little less direct, but not less effectual. Perhaps they will not tell you that they be- lieve the Bible to be a forgery ; perhaps they will even give a vague assent to its being a divine revelation ; — but they will tell you with nearly the same breath, of different passages which have a contradictory meaning ; of stories too trifling, and of doctrines too absurd, to have had such a Being as God for their author : and thus, by endeavor- ing to bring into contempt a part of the Bible, they aim to destroy the authority of the whole. So long as men of this character are scattered through society, who can doubt that young people are in danger of being corrupted by infidelity ? Now, my young friends, I will tell you, if you are ever tempted, for a moment, to give heed to those who would persuade you to renounce your belief in the Bible as a divine revelation, what you must be able to prove, before you can consistently venture on infidel ground. You must be able to show that the miracles of which the Bible contains a record, either were never performed, or if they were, that they do not prove its divine authority. If you take the former side of the alternative, and say that these miracles were never performed, you must still admit either that they were pretended to be performed, or they were not. If they were pretended to be performed, as recorded in scripture, it behooves you to show how it was that so many competent witnesses, and among them the most malignant enemies, in circumstances the most favor- able for detecting imposture, and for several years in suc- cession, should actually have been deceived. If you say that they were not pretended to be performed, then you have to account for the fact that such a record of them as that which the Bible contains, should have been made, at 34 the very time when the imposture — if it were one — was most open to detection ; and that it should have been cir- culated first among the very persons who would have been most interested and most able to detect it ; who yet never even pretended to call the facts in question. If you say that the record of these miracles was not made during the age in which they were professedly performed, but that it was palmed upon some succeeding age, then you have to account for the fact that the whole mass of historical testimony fixes the date of this record to nearly the period in which they are alleged to have been per- formed ; and you have this additional difficulty to solve, — how a record of facts, purporting to have occurred un- der the observation of the very people to whom the re- cord was first given, could have been received by them as a true record, when, at the same time, no such facts had ever fallen within their knowledge. But if you choose the latter side of the alternative, and say that these miracles were actually wrought, but still do not prove the Bible to be a divine revelation ; — you have then to show either that the God of truth would give the stamp of his authority to falsehood, or else that these mighty works were performed by the aid of evil spirits ; for that they transcended the limits of human power, admits of no question. The former of these suppositions — that Jehovah has lent his sanction to false- hood — you will not dare to admit, even in thought. If you admit the latter, and refer the miracles of the Bible to diabolical agency, then you have this great moral phe- nomenon to explain — how the enemy of all good came to be so heartily and earnestly engaged in the destruction of his own kingdom ; for the manifest tendency of all the miracles of the Bible was to promote the cause of righteousness. Here then you perceive, at the threshold of infidelity, you have most serious difficulties to encounter ; but the half has not been told you. You have, farther, to ac- 35 count for the fact that this book contains a long chain of prophecies, extending almost from the beginning of the world to the present time, and to all future ages ; — that, as the plan of Providence has been developed, these pro- phecies have regularly had their fulfilment in the history of the church and the world ; — that the most minute and improbable events have occurred in exact correspondence with predictions which were written ages before their occurrence. If there were no divine wisdom here, whence this marvellous power of lifting the veil that hides futurity ? How is it that a worm can tell of things that are to be, unless it has been mounting up above the dust, and holding communion with Omniscience ? Who dares be so impious as to say that Jehovah would ar- range the system of his Providence, to meet the conjec- tures of weak fanaticism or wicked imposture ? You have, moreover, before you can consistently re- ject the divine authority of the Bible, to account for the fact that so many different persons as were concerned in writing it, living in different ages, in various states of society, and in circumstances to preclude the possibility of collusion, could have produced a book between whose various parts there is the most perfect, though evidently, on their part, the most undesigned, harmony. If all the letters of which the Bible is composed, were to be sepa- rated from each other, and thrown promiscuously into the air, and should fall to the earth in precisely the order which they originally held, making a regular and com- plete book, it would not be a greater anomaly in human experience, than would be found in the fact that such a book as the Bible is, in respect to the harmony of its parts, should have been made in the circumstances in which it was made, independently of divine inspiration. You have still further to account for the fact, that men living in a rude state of society, and many of them with the most limited advantages for intellectual cultivation, should have produced compositions, which, in sublimity 36 both of thought and language, leave far behind the finest models whether of ancient or modern times. The most perfect specimens of narrative which the world has seen, are found in the gospels ; but what was there in the labo- rious occupation of fishermen, that gave promise of these matchless performances ? If you deny that these per- sons wrote under divine inspiration,, whence the mighty difference between their productions, and what you could reasonably expect from persons in the same sphere of life, and with much better advantages of education, among ourselves ? You have also to account for the fact, that the Bible presents a higher standard of moral purity than is any where else to be found ; that all its doctrines and precepts, all its promises and threatenings, are worthy of an in- finitely holy God. Tell us, if this be imposture, how it has come to pass that wicked men — the enemies of holi- ness, have produced the holiest book that the world has ever seen. If they could have done this, where was the motive to influence them to it, so long as it was directly opposed to their corrupt views and purposes ? If they had desired to do it, would it not still, being conceived in sin, necessarily have borne, in a greater or less degree, the moral likeness of its authors ? And, finally, you have to account for the wonderful efficacy with which the Bible has been attended. Com- pare the combined moral effects which have been pro- duced by all the other books in the world, with those which have been produced by the Bible, and the former dwindle to nothing in the comparison. It is the Bible which is the means of accomplishing such wonderful transformations, as we sometimes see, of human charac- ter ; — making the proud, humble ; the vindictive, for- giving ; the cruel, tender-hearted ; causing the swearer to reverence the name of God ; the drunkard to lay aside his cups ; the dishonest man to give back his ill-gotten gains ; and the miser to open his coffers at the call of charity. It is the Bible which has shed the light of peace and hope around the path of adversity ; which has been a pillow for sickness, and a staff for old age ; which has caused the voice of rejoicing to rise even from the valley of death. It is the Bible which has demolished altars of cruelty and temples of idolatry ; which has illumined the wilderness with the light of civilisation, and for savage customs has substituted the soft charities of life ; which, as it travels round the globe, sends abroad a healing influence, and leaves a bright track of glory behind it. Whence is it, I ask, that the Bible produces these wonderful effects, if it has not God for its author ? How is it, if it be the work of man, that it has survived all the efforts which have been made for its destruction ; that, like the burning bush, it has been always on fire, and yet has never been con- sumed ? Such, my young friends, are some of the difficulties to be encountered, before you can, with any show of reason, reject the divine authority of the scriptures. You must be able to show that the miracles which the Bible records, either were never performed, or if they were, that they do not prove it to be a divine revelation ; that the pro- phecies which it contains, notwithstanding their literal and exact accomplishment, were only fortunate conjectures. You must be able to account for the fact that so many writers, on such a subject, and in such circumstances, have written with perfect harmony ; that men compara- tively destitute of intellectual culture, have written with such unparalleled sublimity ; that men of most corrupt minds, (for the idea of imposture necessarily supposes this,) have made a book which breathes the most elevated moral purity ; and finally that this Book, bearing the signature of Heaven upon its title-page, and thus affront- ing Jehovah by a lie, has gone abroad, changing the moral wilderness into a garden, and pouring light and joy into every bosom by which it has been welcomed. Until vou are able to account for these and many similar facts, D 38 you cannot, for a moment, consistently place your foot on infidel ground. How then ought you to estimate the cavils of infidelity ? As lighter than nothing, till you have deliberately and satisfactorily met all the difficulties which have now been suggested. 2. Another error of which young people, at the present day, are in danger, is, that no atonement was necessary that God might pardon sin ; and that it was no part of the design of Christ's death to make an atonement. This error is, of course, held by all who reject the divine authority of the Bible : it is held also by many who profess, in some sense, to acknowledge its claims to in- spiration. The former class deny the necessity of an atonement ; but regarding the Bible as a mere human production, neither ask nor care whether it contains the doctrine or not. The latter class, in common with the former, assert that an atonement was not necessary ; but they go farther, and also assert that this doctrine is not found in the Bible. Before you receive this error, you ought to be able satisfactorily to answer the following inquiries. How could God grant an absolute pardon to the sinner y and yet maintain the dignity of his character and govern- ment ? The law which God has given to man as a rule of conduct, is perfectly holy, both in its requisitions and in its penalty. But man, by not obeying the requisitions of the law, has become obnoxious to its penalty. Sup- pose now that the great Lawgiver and Judge should remit the offence, without any expression of Ins displeasure against it ; in what attitude must he place himself, in view of the intelligent universe ? Would not the question be agitated in every part of the creation in which the fact was known — why an infinitely wise and holy God should make a law to be trampled upon with impunity ; and if it were fit that the law should be made, why it were not also fit that its honor should be maintained ? Is it an 39 expression of infinite holiness, to let sin go unpunished ? Is it an expression of infinite wisdom or benevolence, to connive at a spirit of rebellion in one part of the universe, and thus to hold out encouragement to the same spirit in every other part of it ? If these questions must be an- swered in the negative, then I ask, whether Reason her- self knows any other alternative, than that an atonement must be made, or the sinner must perish ? Again : If Jesus Christ did not die as an atoning sa- crifice, whence the connexion between the ancient sacrifices and the pardon of sin ? That such a connexion existed under the Mosaic dispensation, no person who reads the Bible can doubt ; victims were constantly offered under the name of sin-offerings, as an atonement for the sins of the people. That there is no natural connexion between the slaying of an animal, and the forgiveness of sin, is obvious ; and moreover, the apostle expressly declares that " the blood of bulls and of goats cannot take away sin." Whence, then, did these sacrifices derive either their significance or their efficacy, if they are not to be considered as types of the great sacrifice of Christ ? Moreover : How will you reconcile it with infinite ids- dom, that God should have employed means so dispropor- tioned in their importance to the end which he designed to accomplish? If the object of Christ's death were to make atonement for sin, then here was an end to be an- swered of sufficient magnitude to warrant the most expen- sive means that could be employed. But if he lived merely as a teacher, and died merely as a martyr, whence the wonderful preparation that was made for his advent and his death ; and whence the wonderful interest which these events have excited, both on earth and in heaven ? Why this constant reference to the Messiah in all the rites of the ancient dispensation ? Why was he the burden of prophecy, during a period of four thousand years ? Why was his birth celebrated by the songs of angels, and his death signalized by the convulsions of 40 nature ? If his object had been merely to instruct the world, and to seal the truth of his testimony with his blood ; could not this object have been effected by some lower personage than him who was the Brightness of the Father's glory : and if this were so, whence the mighty difference between him and his apostles, which should invest his life and death with so much more importance than theirs ? Whence is it too that his death awakens so much wonder, and gratitude, and joy, in heaven ; that even the angels make it the theme of their high praises ; if, after all, no higher object was gained by it than to prove himself sincere in preaching an improved system of moral virtue ? I ask, again, whence this wonderful dispropor- tion between means and ends, which there actually is, if Jesus Christ did not die a vicarious sacrifice for the sins of the world ? And finally, under this article, what explanation will you give of the following passages of scripture, consistent with a rejection of the doctrine of atonement ? " Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sor- rows." " He was wounded for our transgressions ; he was bruised for our iniquities : the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed." M The Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all." " Being justified freely by his grace, through the redemp- tion that is in Christ Jesus." " Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past through the forbearance of God." " Even as the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to mi- nister, and to give his life a ransom for many." " Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree." u In whom we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins ; according to the riches of his grace." " Ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot." " Unto Him that loved us, and 41 washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God ; to Him be glory and dominion forever and ever, amen." These are some of the more prominent passages in which the design of Christ's death is exhibited : Which of them all, let me ask, even seem to teach, that he died merely, or chiefly, as a martyr to the truth of his doc- trines ? If the doctrine of atonement is not explicitly taught here, we ask for language in which it can be con- veyed intelligibly. 3. Another error to which young people, at the present day, are exposed, is, that a spiritual renovation, or radical change of character, is not necessary to salvation. But what is implied in salvation ? Nothing less than being admitted to a participation of the joys of Heaven. But what is the character of heavenly joys ? They are perfectly holy : nothing that defileth can ever enter the kingdom. What sort of taste or disposition, then, must be necessary in order to relish or participate these joys ? Undoubtedly, a perfectly holy one ; for* the very idea of happiness includes in it a correspondence between the taste of the individual, and the objects or pursuits from which the happiness is derived. You might, for instance, bring the most delicious food before a man whose taste was vitiated by disease ; and though the food would be good in itself, and would be grateful to a healthy appetite, yet to the sick man it would only be an occasion of loath- ing. So also in reference to the joys of Heaven — though they are not only real, but far surpass in extent all our conceptions, yet, in order that they may become ours, we must possess a temper conformed to them- But does man, by nature, possess this temper ? Let every man's experience answer. Let the history of the world answer. Above all, let the word of God answer. " Every ima- gination of man's heart is evil from his youth." " The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. " D2 42 M They are altogether become filthy : there is none that doeth good, no not one." " The natural man discerneth not the things of the Spirit of God ; for they are foolish- ness unto him ; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned." If such be the natural cha- racter of man, and such the nature of heavenly joys, is it not manifest, even on principles of reason, that a radical change is necessary to the sinner, before he can be ad- mitted to Heaven ? Hear now the direct testimony of God on this subject. By the mouth of his prophet Ezekiel, he says : " A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you : and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh." " But as many as received him," says the apostle John, " to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name : which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God." Our Saviour himself declares, " Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." The apostle Paul having described the exceedingly de- praved character of the Corinthians previous to their con- version, says, in reference to the change they had expe- rienced : u But ye are washed, ye are justified, ye are sanctified, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God." And again : " Not by works of righteous- ness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and the renewing of the Holy Ghost." What meaning having the sem- blance of plausibility, can you attach to these passages, if you deny that they teach the necessity of a radical change wrought by the immediate influence of the Holy Spirit, in order to salvation ? 4. The fourth and only remaining error which I shall here notice, is, that either no punishment, or only a limited one, awaits the wicked in a future world. 43 If you say that the wicked are not to be punished at all in a future state, you must maintain the position either on the ground that they will cease to sin at death, or else that the connexion between sin and misery will be dis- solved. Will you take the former ground, and say that the wicked at death are delivered from all sin ? But by what means is this accomplished ? Is it by death itself ? No ; for death is only a termination of the animal func- tions — a mere passage from one world to another : and surely there is nothing in this that can affect the moral state of the soul in any way. But do you say that it is by a divine influence, operating upon the soul in the ac- tion of death ? You say this without any warrant ; for the Bible has given no such intimation. But if it be so, this influence is either exerted in consistency with man's moral nature, or it is not. If it is thus exerted, then of course the sinner must be conscious, in some measure, of those moral exercises which precede and attend regenera- tion ; must be conscious of co-operating with the Spirit of God, both in conviction and conversion. But this surely is not true ; for, in a multitude of instances, the sinner dies in stupidity, or delirium, and sometimes in the act of challenging the vengeance of God. If you say that this influence is not exerted according to the laws of our moral nature, then, in respect to this point at least, you make man a mere machine : you have gone over to fatalism, and are not to be reasoned with. But do you choose the other side of the alternative, and take the ground that the connexion between sin and mi- sery will not exist after death ? But here again, as there is nothing in death to destroy the existence of sin in the soul, neither is there any thing in it to change its nature. It is part of the nature of sin to produce misery, just as truly as it belongs to the sun to impart light ; and though this tendency is not always manifest in the present life, yet it is only on account of the countervailing influences which grow out of our present condition. Just in pro- 44 portion as the sinner is removed from these influences even here, you see him reaping a harvest of wretched- ness. As he will be completely removed from them in a future world, what can prevent sin from having its legiti- mate operation in making him completely wretched ? But perhaps you admit that there is a degree of punish- ment in a future world, but maintain that it will be limit- ed in its duration. The idea that an immortal soul should be doomed to suffer inconceivable wo, during its whole existence, is so dreadful, that you shrink from the admis- sion of it. And what then ? Is that any reason why you should reject the plain testimony of God ? Let it be remembered that this is a case in respect to which the wishes of men have nothing to do. The grand question in relation to it is, not what you desire to be true, but what actually is true. The criminal on the scaffold no doubt wishes to see his sentence remitted ; but that wish has no influence to prevent the executioner from doing his office. Not more does the dread which is associated in your mind with the idea of eternal punishment, constitute any evi- dence against its reality. But you say, perhaps, that it would not consist with the benevolence of God to inflict eternal punishment for the sins committed in this short life. Let it be remem- bered that we are but miserable judges in this matter. Is it consistent with God's infinite benevolence to bury the ship, laden with human beings, in the mighty deep ; or to cause the earth to open, and swallow up thousands, whom we are accustomed to call innocent ? None but the atheist will deny this ; for such events actually do take place under his administration. By what super- human wisdom, then, are you enabled to decide that the eternal punishment of the sinner cannot consist with in- finite benevolence ? Whence have you gained that know- ledge of the exact influence of sin on God's moral uni- verse, which qualifies you to pronounce that its punish- ment must be limited, or his perfection must be sacrificed ? 45 But if the punishment of the sinner is hereafter to come to a termination, in what manner is this to be ef- fected ? Do you say that his sufferings will be discipli- nary; and that in consequence of their reforming and purifying influence, he will ere long be prepared for the happiness of heaven ? Here again, this is a gratuitous as- sumption — no such influence being attributed to the suffer- ings of the wicked in the word of God. But this notion is moreover contradicted by the analogy of experience. Would the parent, if he wished to reform an abandoned child, be likely to confine him constantly to the company of those who were equally or even more abandoned than him- self ? And is it not true in fact, that when the wicked in the present life have been doomed for their crimes by the sentence of human law, to confinement with those of a character similar to their own, they have generally come away monuments, not of the reforming, but of the cor- rupting and hardening influence of such kind of punish- ment ? Where then is the ground for believing that the wicked in a future world, by being associated with those who continually blaspheme God, and oppose the interests of his kingdom, will become conformed to his image, and acquire a relish for his service ? Admitting, however, this remedial tendency which you attribute to the sufferings of the sinner, you have yet an- other difficulty to surmount — it is to determine how the sinner can be delivered from punishment in consistency with the sentence of God's law. The only alternative that here presents itself is, either that he has actually suffered the full penalty of the law, and is released on the score of justice ; or else that his deliverance is ef- fected through the efficacy of Christ's atonement. But both sides of this alternative are mere assumptions — not warranted even by the semblance of scripture authority ; and as for reason, if she has any thing to say concerning them, it is certainly nothing in their favor. But against both these suppositions, as well as against that of the 46 disciplinary tendency of the sufferings of the wicked, there stands arrayed that ?nass of divine testimony, which exhibits the present world as the only w r orld of proba- tion, and the future as a world of unalterable retribution. " Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do," says Solomon, u do it with thy might ; for there is no w r ork, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave" — the world of departed spirits — " whither thou goest." Says the pro- phet Isaiah, " They that go down into the grave, cannot hope for thy truth." " The night cometh," saith our Saviour, that is, the night of death, " in which no man can work." As there is to be no change in the charac- ter of man after he leaves this world, the scriptures teach that we shall be judged according to " the deeds done in the body ;" and rewarded " according to our works," performed on this side the grave. It is clear then that the Bible has decided that, neither on the ground of jus- tice, nor on the ground of mercy, will the punishment of the sinner be remitted, after he has become an inhabitant of the eternal world. But there are many other passages of scripture, in which the doctrine of eternal punishment is not only im- plied, but explicitly declared. The prophet Isaiah, filled with the most awful impressions of the future state of the wicked, exclaims, " Who can inhabit everlasting burnings ?" Our blessed Lord himself, speaking of the wicked, says, " These shall go away into everlasting punishment." Paul says concerning those who obey not the gospel, that "they shall be punished with ever- lasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and the glory of his power." And John, in the Revelation, declares concerning the inhabitants of the bottomless pit, that " the smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and ever" But you will say, perhaps, that the words " everlast- ing," " eternal," " for ever and ever," &c do not neces- sarily imply unlimited duration, as they are sometimes 47 used in scripture in reference to objects whose duration is acknowledged to be limited. To this I reply that, whatever this language may denote in certain cases, the manner in which it is used as descriptive of the punish- ment of the wicked, precludes the idea of limited dura- tion ; for the same language which expresses the duration of the miseries of the wicked, is employed in the very same connexion, to express that of the happiness of the righteous ; which all acknowledge to be unlimited. — u Some shall arise to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt." " And these shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal" — or " everlasting life ;" the same Greek word being used in the latter case as in the former. Here then is an example of the strongest expressions to be found in the Greek and Hebrew languages, being used by the Spirit of God, and in circumstances in no way liable to exception, to describe the duration of future punishment. The only alternative which these passages suggest is, either that the miseries of the wicked will be strictly eternal, or else that the happiness of the righteous will be limited. If, however, after all, you choose not to admit the pas- sages already quoted as decisive on this point, there are others not liable to the criticism to which I have referred, and which undoubtedly convey the idea of unlimited dura- tion, if it can be conveyed by human language. Such are the following : " Their worm dieth not, and their fire is not quenched." " They shall never see life." " They shall never enter into rest." " It were good for that man if he had never been born." Surely it would have been better for Judas to have been born, if, after suffering millions of ages, he should finally begin an endless ca- reer of happiness and glory. There is yet another test to which the doctrine which 1 am considering may very properly be referred. I mean its moral tendency : for it requires no argument to prove 48 that that doctrine which removes any of the restraints to sinful indulgence, cannot have God for its author. Now then I inquire, if there be no punishment, or only a temporary punishment, for the wicked, in a future world — in other words, if virtue and vice are ultimately to find the same level, — I inquire what there is to keep a wicked man from any deeds of iniquity to which his in* clinations may prompt him, provided only he can escape the eye and the arm of human law. The wretch whose ruling passion is the love of gold, casts his eye covetously upon your possessions ; but they are so guarded that he cannot reach them without shedding your blood : what hinders then, if death be the gate of glory to all, but that, when he has once satisfied himself that he can es- cape detection, he should draw his dagger and stab you in the dark ? Nor is the penalty of human law, upon his principle, greatly to be dreaded, or even dreaded at all ; for it is only anticipating a little, a momentary pang, which is after all the harbinger of eternal joy. Is it not then manifestly the tendency of this doctrine, to throw open the flood-gates of iniquity, and to license to the ut- most, every corrupt propensity of the heart ? You perceive then, my young friends, that you have most serious difficulties to encounter from reason, scrip- ture, and experience, before you can adopt either scheme of universal salvation. Be not so unwise as to yield to the dictates of mere feeling on this subject. It is a mat- ter, I repeat, to be decided, not by the wishes of men, but by the testimony of God. To this then, as the ulti- mate source of evidence, be your appeal ; and if the doctrine is taught here, that the punishment of the wicked will be eternal, remember that heaven and earth shall sooner pass away, than one jot or tittle of what Je- hovah has threatened shall fail of being accomplished. II. I have now completed the examination which I designed, of some of the more common errors to which 49 young people, at the present day, are exposed : I pro- ceed, secondly, to suggest some considerations with A VIEW TO DISSUADE YOU FROM BEING FOUND IN THE WAY of evil instruction. The wise man, in the iext^ cautions the young, not merely to avoid giving heed to the instruction of the wicked, but to avoid even hearing it. " Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that cau- seth to err from the words of knowledge." The idea clearly is, that you are not to allow yourselves, in any way, to be familiar with corrupt sentiments ; neither by reading bad books, nor by listening to the preaching or conversation of bad men. I. The first consideration which I shall offer, as a reason why you should not be found in the way of evil instruction, is, that there is great danger that you will embrace the errors with which you thus become acquainted* This danger results partly from the fact that men natu- rally love darkness rather than light. Of this fact the history of the world furnishes abundant proof; else how will you account for it, not only that men in all ages have misinterpreted the voice of God speaking to them in his works and ways, and that they have worshipped every thing as God but Jehovah himself, but also that so many have shut their eyes against the broad light of revelation, and have either denied its divine authority, or else perverted it to sanction the most gross and fatal errors. Taking for granted then this fact, it amounts to nothing less than a predisposition in the human heart to the reception of error. Suppose your bodily system was exactly predisposed to some contagious disease, would not that fact greatly increase your danger, on be- ing brought into contact with the elements of infection ? Or suppose an individual had a strong thirst for intoxi- cating liquors, would not this invest with additional dan- ger all opportunities for indulging in the use of them ? Is it not equally manifest that that natural aversion to E 50 the reception of God's truth, of which I have spoken, must be peculiarly favorable to the influence of evil in- struction ? But this danger farther arises from the love of novelty , and the pride of opinion. There is something exceed- ingly grateful to many youthful minds, in the reflection that they have turned off from the beaten track ; — that they have escaped from vulgar prejudices, and broken away from the trammels of education, and that they are giving the world a fine example of independent thought. But this spirit finds but little aliment in the way of truth ; for that is a highway, and the simple and unlettered walk in it ; and the way to be distinguished from the vulgar herd, is to leave this plain path, and broach some wild or wicked speculation. More or less of this spirit no doubt belongs to human nature ; and though you may not hitherto have been sensible of its operation, yet if you venture into the way of evil instruction, there is great danger that you will find, not only that this spirit exists, but that it exerts a powerful influence in opening your mind to the reception of error. Moreover, you are in danger of embracing the errors which you accustom yourselves to hear defended, from the fact that familiarity with error, as with vice, has a tendency to make you insensible of its deformity. This tendency results partly from the power of habit, and partly from the deceitful nature of sin ; and it exists universally ; though it must be acknowledged that it is often counteracted by the influence of circumstances. The process by which it discovers itself, needs only to be described, to be recognized by every one as a reality. The youth who has been educated to reverence the bible as God's word, when he first hears it assailed by infidel cavils and scoffs, shudders at the impiety, and perhaps wonders that God suffers such a wretch to live. He hears the same thing the second time, but with less hor- ror than before. He hears it again and again, and at 51 length ceases to be affected by the impiety. At no dis- tant period, he gathers bravery enough to smile at what once made him tremble ; to assent to that, which once drew from him expressions of abhorrence. At a more remote point in the process, he cordially takes the infidel by the hand, and greets him as a brother ; thus, perhaps, in a little period, having travelled the whole distance from a firm belief to a total rejection of the bible. Say, my young friends, whether all this is not perfectly na- tural ; and easily accounted for on the principle that familiarity with error blinds the mind to its inherent odiousness. Venture not then in the way of evil in- struction, lest, through the operation of the same prin- ciple, you should be the subjects of the same disastrous change. Another consideration which renders it probable that you will embrace the errors which you hear defended, is, that, from your age and inexperience, you cannot be supposed to be properly furnished for an encounter with error. The man who, when properly armed, might stand his ground against a company of ruffians, would, if stripped of his armor, fall into their hands at the first onset. In like manner, the man who has been long accustomed to study his bible, might find little diffi- culty, and be in little danger, in meeting the cavils of the enemies of truth ; while he who is comparatively unac- quainted with the word of God, might be easily entan- gled, and drawn away by their sophistry. Taking it for granted then that you have not that deep and thorough knowledge of the bible which might more naturally be looked for in advanced life, you cannot but perceive that you are in great danger, from this circumstance, of re- ceiving the errors which are defended in your hearing. Cavils which might be satisfactorily answered in many ways, and the fallacy of which a more thorough know- ledge of the word of God might enable you instantly to detect, assume, from your ignorance, the weight of ar- 52 gnments ; and there is danger that you will soon come to conclude that what you cannot answer, is unanswerable. But the consideration which crowns the evidence of your danger on this subject, is, that multitudes of youth, from hearing evil instruction, actually have embraced the errors with which they have thus been made familiar. Yes, I could point you to many a young person, who thought himself safe when he ventured on this forbidden ground, and felt confident that his belief of the truth was never to be shaken, who can now speak boldly in defence of the most dangerous errors, and even pour contempt on the revelation of God. Tell me, my young friends, what there is in your circumstances which promises that the same experiment will result more favorably in respect to you. Rely on it, that ground which your curiosity may tempt you to explore, is beset with snares ; if you venture among them, take heed lest they prove to you the snares of death. 2. Guard against being found in the way of evil in- struction, because there is great danger that you will not only by this means embrace error, but that you will re- tain it till the close of life. There are two principles which will operate power- fully towards such a result. The first is, the pride of consistency. The circumstances in which the error is supposed to be embraced, are exceedingly well fitted to bring this principle into action. You have become an errorist under the teaching of wicked men, who have watched you in every step of your progress, who have triumphed in their success, and have congratulated you on being set free from puritanical prejudices. In your intercourse with them and with others, you have pro- bably gloried in your opposition to the truth ; for it usu- ally happens that the truth finds its bitterest enemies in the ranks of apostacy. How difficult then must it be to come down from this hidi stand which you have taken, 53 into the dust ; to acknowledge, after all your confident boasting, that you have been left to believe a lie ! How hard to bear the taunting accusation of fickleness or hy- pocrisy ; to be assailed by the hiss of contempt, instead of being greeted with the smile of approbation ! If you have embraced error in the circumstances to which I have referred, is not here a powerful consideration to prevent you from abandoning it ? Even if doubts should sometimes force themselves upon you, is it not probable that this pride of consistency — this fear of the world's dread laugh, would lead you to shake them off as soon as possible ? The other principle to which I referred as likely to operate in preventing you from abandoning your errors, when they are once adopted, is a regard to present com- fort. No matter from what consideration you may have been induced to receive them — when once received, they will of course exert an influence to quiet the conscience, and thus minister to a life of sin. The man who specu- latively believes the great truths of the Bible, has but little to defend him against the arrows of conviction When the threatenings of God are thundered in his ears, conscience is exceedingly apt to take advantage of his belief, to stir up tumult and agony in his heart. But the man who has embraced any fundamental error, carries a shield upon his conscience, which the sharpest arrows from the quiver of the Almighty can scarcely penetrate. He is at ease under the preaching of the word, under the warnings of Providence, in revivals of religion, and is even mighty to oppose the operations of God's Holy Spi- rit : but take from him his system of error, and you strip him of the armor in which he trusted ; you leave him as liable to the terrors of conviction, as other men. But in every human bosom there is a natural dread of misery ; especially in the bosom of the sinner, a dread of finding himself exposed to the wrath of God. How probable is it then, on this ground, that if you have once yielded E 2 54 to the influence of error, you will never abandon it. It produces a feeling of safety which you love to cherish ; whereas the parting with it must be the signal for a pain- ful sense of exposure to the most awful calamities. I have said that there is a probability that a system of error once adopted will be retained till the close of life : perhaps I ought rather to say till near the close ; — for experience proves that the approach of death has a mighty influence to break up these delusions. Cases indeed occur, in which the soul clings to them to the last, and even with apparent triumph ; but the instances are far more numerous, in which the most honest con- fessions, and the most gloomy forebodings, pronounce these systems of error to be refuges of lies. But this conviction is often — perhaps usually, nothing more than the conviction of despair. The soul, just in the act of making its change — though it may abandon the error, is not in a condition to escape from its influence ; and hence it may be said in the most important and practical sense, that those by whom error is once received, will probably carry it with them to the gates of eternity. 3. Guard against being found in the way of evil in- struction, because the errors to which you are thus ex- posed, if adopted, and retained till the close of life, must be fatal to your souls. I here refer particularly to those errors which have been examined in the former part of this discourse, though they are by no means the only ones of fatal tendency. Let it be remembered that these errors are, in the high- est degree, practical. There are many false notions, and even in respect to religion, which may be held with little or no hazard ; because they are at best mere matters of speculation, and do not involve any great point of duty or interest. But it is otherwise in respect to those which we have been considering : they contemplate man in his relations to God and eternity ; and involve interests too 55 momentous for the human mind adequately to estimate, I know there are those who will have it, that nothing is practical in religion, but what relates to external mo- rality and to the present life ; but surely those are the most practical truths, in the only proper sense of that word, which are fitted to exert the greatest influence in preparing men for heaven ; and those the most practical errors, which minister most directly and effectually to the soul's everlasting destruction. But the fatal influence of the errors of which I have spoken, is more directly manifest in the fact, that they either sweep away the only foundation of the sinners hope, or else they effectually prevent a compliance with the terms on which salvation is offered. If you believe that the Bible is not the word of God, then you set at nought all that God has done for your salvation, and fairly bring yourself under the sentence, " He that be- lieveth not shall be damned." If you believe that Jesus Christ has made no atonement for sin, it were absurd to sujDpose that you should ever rest your soul's everlasting interests on his atonement ; and yet this is the only sure foundation. If you believe neither the reality nor the necessity of a renovation of heart by the Holy Spirit, what motive will you have to seek it ? But Jesus him- self has declared, " Except a man be born again, he can- not see the kingdom of God." And finally, if you be- lieve that there is to be no punishment, or only a limited punishment, of the wicked in a future world, what in- fluence will this belief be likely to exert, other than that to which I have already referred ; that of quieting your fears, and encouraging you to walk the downward road ? I do not say that it is not possible but that the tendency of this latter doctrine may, in individual instances, be counteracted ; but we may safely say that, if such in- stances exist, they are exceedingly rare ; and that this error has generally a most direct and visible influence in carrying the soul down to perdition. 56 And is it so, my young friends, that the errors to which you are exposed are fraught with such amazing danger ? Is it so, that every effort made to corrupt your principles, is an effort to destroy your souls ? Then venture not into the way of evil instruction. Regard with more horror the man who would shake your belief in the truths of religion, than the assassin who waits to plunge a dagger into your heart. The one aims only at the death of the body, which must die soon in the course of nature : the other aims at the death of the soul ; — a death fraught with everlasting agony. If you are tempted to place yourself, even for an hour, in the way of hearing the truths of the bible ridiculed or opposed, yield not to the temptation, unless you have made up your mind to encounter the agonies of the lost. And now what remains but that I exhort you to value and love the Bible ? Be not satisfied with a vague and inoperative assent to its authority or its doc- trines ; but let your belief in both be intelligent and in- fluential. Study it daily with diligence and prayer - Endeavor not only to become familiar with its truths, but to become imbued with its spirit. Bind it about your heart, as the richest treasure that God has ever given to mortals. In this way, you will early become fortified against the influence of evil instruction ; will have a sure guide amidst difficulties, a substantial solace in sorrow, an unfailing refuge in death. Give me the directions which the bible furnishes, and I will ask for no other guide amidst the devious paths of human life. Give me the consolations which the bible yields, and I will ask for no other staff to support me when I go down into the dark valley. LECTURE IV. DANGER OF A LIFE OF PLEASURE ECCLESIASTES XI. 9. REJOICE, O YOUNG MAIT, IN THY YOUTH ; AND LET THY HEART CHEER THEE IN THE DAYS OF THY YOUTH ; AND WALK IN THE WAYS OF THINE HEART, AND IN THE SIGHT OF THINE EYES : BUT KNOW THOU, THAT FOR ALL THESE THINGS, GOD WILL BRING THEE INTO JUDGMENT. A more cutting and awful piece of irony than is con- tained in this passage, is, perhaps, not to be found, either in or out of the sacred volume. The wise man, in the first part of the verse, assumes the character of a gay and thoughtless libertine ; and in the true spirit of a libertine, counsels the youth whom he is addressing, to give him- self up to an unrestrained course of amusement and dis- sipation. He bids him abandon all serious thoughts of God, and eternity, and religion. He welcomes him to the joys of an irreligious and profligate life ; and gives him all the liberty which any sensualist could desire. Having so far represented the wicked seducer and de- stroyer of the young, he suddenly lays aside his assumed character, and with all the solemnity of a preacher from the world of spirits, closes the verse, in a style of the most impressive admonition. The same young person, whom he had just before pointed into the path of forbidden plea- sure, he now points to the judgment seat of Christ : and 58 alludes, with awful emphasis, to that tremendous reckon- ing, which must succeed such a life as he had recom- mended. " Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth ; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth ; and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes : but know thou, that for all these things, God will bring thee into judgment." Our subject, at once, lays itself before you. In the first part of the text, there is the ironical invitation to partake of sinful pleasure : in the latter part, the so- lemn admonition to remember the judgment. Let us endeavor, so far as we can, to enter into the spirit of both parts of the passage. " Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth ; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth ; and walk in the ways of thine heart, and the sight of thine eyes :"— almost the very language by which many youth at the present day are tempted into the path of forbidden plea- sure. Coming from the lips of the sensualist, it is no irony ; it is the honest language of his heart ; and he rejoices when it is listened to and obeyed. Hear the sentiment contained in these words, a little expanded : — " You are now in the morning of life — the season most free from worldly care, and most adapted to worldly pleasure. However it may be with middle life, or old age, when the vigor of the body is spent, or the animal spirits have grown cool, this is not the time for religion. You were made to enjoy life ; but religion is only a course of mortification and penance ; it is the bond- age both of soul and body — the grave of all that is bright and goodly in the lot of man. Resist, then, the claims of religion, at least for the present. If you should think it meet to beckon her to you in your last hour, as a com- panion through the dark valley, be it so ; but while these years of youthful buoyancy are passing off, make no league with this damper of human joy. Come with us into these scenes of mirth and revelry, in which reflection is 59 drowned, and restraint is not known ; and here let your heart be surfeited with pleasure. What if, after having devoted hours to amusement, the thought should occur to you, w T hile in the solitude of your chamber, that all that you had enjoyed was vanity ? Endeavor to convince yourself of the contrary, by thinking how happy you were while you were listening to the festive song, or while you were dancing to the sound of the viol. What if the open grave of some beloved friend should bring into your mind the gloomy thought of dying ? Banish it as an intruder upon the joys of life ; and think how useless it is to trouble yourself about what is inevitable. What if the thought should occur to you, while at the gaming table, or in scenes of profane and boisterous riot, that you have be- loved friends who would weep blood, if they should know where you are, and how you are engaged ? But what right have friends to abridge your pleasure, so long as you are willing that they should judge what is best for them- selves, and you attempt no interference with their plans for enjoyment ? In a word, let it be your grand object to drink as deeply at the fountain of w r orldly pleasure, as you can ; and as the hours of this golden season whirl off, let there be no inquiry agitated in your breast more gloomy, than how you shall crowd into each hour the largest amount of careless gaiety or sensual indulgence." But, my young friends, I dare not proceed farther in this strain of irony, which is suggested by my text, lest some of you should forget that it is irony, and should begin to think that you have found an advocate for your youthful vanities. I pass therefore immediately to the other part of the subject, in which I am to enforce the awful warning contained in the closing part of the text. u But know thou, that for all these things, God will bring thee into judgment." What an awful contrast is here presented to the language of the libertine, to which we have just been attending ! 60 Reflect on the certainty of your being brought into judgment. " Know thou," says the wise man ; that is, u be assured that the fact of which I speak, shall take place, without the possibility of failure." God has not left himself without witness on this subject, either in the constitution of our nature, or in the dispensations of his providence. The doctrine of a future judgment is written more or less legibly on the conscience of every man $ else, how will you account for that painful restlessness which attends the remembrance of crimes long since com- mitted, and the record of which is kept only in the per- petrator's own bosom ? Moreover, the unequal distribu- tion of rewards and punishments in the present life, in connexion with the immutable justice of God, seems to constitute a ground of necessity for a future retribution ; for in what other way shall the divine character be vin- dicated from the charge of partiality ? But if reason has not spoken with sufficient distinctness on this subject, you cannot say that of the lively oracles ; for here the doc- trine stands written with God's own finger in letters of light. The text is decisive on this subject : — " For all these things, God will bring thee into judgment." And again : " God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil." And again: "We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad." The evidence that you are to be brought into judgment, then, is complete. Whether you take counsel of reason, or hold communion with conscience, or open the volume of God's truth, this evidence glares upon you. Forget it you may ; trifle with it you may ; but the awful fact you cannot change. I charge you then to remember, wherever you go, or whatever you do, that there is a tremendous reckoning before you. Go, if you dare, into the haunts of irreligious mirth, and hear God's name profaned, and 61 join in heaping scandal upon the cross ; go and hear the scoffer ask, " Where is the promise of his coming ?" and let your heart overflow with sensual joy : but remember that other scenes await you ; remember that it has gone out of the mouth of Him who is " the same yesterday, to-day, and forever," that you are yet to be brought into judgment. Contemplate the purpose for which you are to be brought into judgment : — " For all these things," says the wise man ; that is, the things specified in the pre- ceding part of the verse — giving yourself up to a life of vanity and pleasure. You will be brought into judgment for the waste of your time ; for every hour and moment which shall have been devoted to other purposes than those for which your time was given you. You will be brought into judgment for all your profane and idle dis- course, which was fitted at once to affront }^our Maker, and to pollute your own mind, and close it against serious reflection. You will be brought into judgment for every scene of vain amusement ; for every meeting for sensual excess ; for every effort to stifle conscience and forget God. You will be brought into judgment for all that you have done in corrupting others ; for the deadly poison which has distilled from your lips, and from your exam- ple, operating like the blast of death, wherever it has been communicated ; for that fearful amount of sin and wretch- edness which will have resulted from the accumulating influence of your life on many successive generations. In a word, for all that belongs to a life of pleasure, whe- ther it respect action or enjoyment, its more immediate or more remote influences, you will be brought into judg- ment. How differently will a life of sinful pleasure appear to you, when you come to view it in the light of the judg- ment, from what it does now, while your heart cheers you in the days of your youth ! What you here plead for as innocent, will then be seen to have involved crimson F 62 guilt. What you here regard as fraught with no danger, will there be felt to have contained the elements of a heavy curse. What you here treat with levity as though it were a dream or a fable, will there gather all the im- portance that belongs to an appalling reality. How will your heart sicken, and your spirit die within you, when the light of eternity reveals your mistake in respect to the object of the present life ! With what emotions will you realize that the period which you have spent in trifling, was the only period given you to escape hell and to ob- tain heaven ! Consider, farther, by whom you are to be brought into judgment. The text asserts that " God will bring thee into judgment ;" — God, from whom came all the bless- ings which you have perverted to purposes of sinful plea- sure ; and against whom every sin that you have com- mitted, has been an act of rebellion : — God, whose heart- searching eye has always been intent upon you, noticing the birth, and progress, and accomplishment of every sinful purpose ; who has been with you when you sup- posed yourself alone ; and who has kept an exact record of all that you have thought, and spoken, and done, from the first moment of your existence : — God, who, though long-suffering and gracious, is yet just and holy, and will by no means clear the guilty ; who has all the means of punishment in the universe at his command, and can execute with infinite ease the penalty which his righteous authority ordains. And is this the great and awful Being, who is to bring you into judgment ? Say, whether it will not be a fearful thing to fall into the hands of such a Judge ? Were your final retribution to be decided by a mere man, or a mere creature, you might suppose it possible that you should escape the woes which hang over your eternal destiny. You might hope something from his limited knowledge. Possibly he might not be acquainted with all your transgressions in all their aggravating cir- 63 cumstances ; or he might form too low an estimate of the punishment which you deserve on account of them. Or you might hope something from his limited power. You mio*ht imagine that by some combination of energy or influence which could be formed, you might either resist the mandate which should summon you to judgment, or prevent the execution of the final sentence . Or you might presume upon the triumph of mercy over justice. You might hope that some appeal could be made to the heart of the Judge, which should lead him at least to abate the severity of your doom ; even though such mitigation should tarnish his character, and weaken his government. But surely you can form no such imaginations in respect to the infinite God. You cannot hope to evade the scru- tiny of his eye, or to resist the might of his arm, or to awaken a blind and indiscriminate compassion in his heart. What though you may be courageous on every other occasion, yet can your heart endure, or your hands be strong, when you shall stand before the throne of Almighty power, beneath the searching look of Omniscience, to receive a just recompense for a life wasted in sinful plea- sure ? Meditate on the time of your being brought into judg- ment. It would seem that the day of judgment, appro- priately so called — the day which is to make a full reve- lation of the secrets of every heart, and to pour the light of a complete vindication over the character of God — is yet comparatively distant. There are purposes to be accomplished in the scheme of providence, preparatory to that august occasion, which may require the lapse of ages. Nevertheless, there is an important sense in which it may be said that the judgment is near. The world into which the soul passes at death, is a world of retribution. Whatever means God intends ever to employ to bring the sinner to repentance, have been employed previous to that period : the first gleam of light from the eternal world reveals to the soul its destiny, which, though not yet 64 published to the universe, is fixed by a decree which the whole creation could not change ; and whatever the soul experiences, whether of joy or of wo, subsequently to that period, belongs to its everlasting retribution ? Dream not, then, my young friend, that the period of your being brought into judgment is remote. Will you presume upon youth as a security against it ? So did that young man, who, the other day, was hurried into eternity, in the fulness of youthful vigor, and the bloom of youthful hope. Will you presume upon health as a security against it ? Go, then, and read a lesson from yonder tomb-stone ; and there you will find that a pro- tracted sickness, and a lingering death-scene, are not the necessary accompaniments of dissolution : you will find that death may overtake you, w T hile your hands are strung with vigor ; and that your passage through the dark valley may be the passage of a moment. Or do you presume on promising worldly prospects ? I could point you to many a father who would tell you weeping, that he once had a son whose prospects were, in every respect, as bright as yours ; but that death had marked him as his victim, and he had sunk into an early grave. Where, then, I ask, is your security against being early brought into judgment ? When you go into a scene of amuse- ment, how do you know but that the summons may meet you there ? When you mingle in the midnight revel, can you be certain that you are not passing the last hour of your probation ? When you lay your head upon your pillow, without lifting your heart to God, who has given you the assurance that that is not the night in which your soul is to be required of you ; that a voice from eternity may not break upon your ear amidst the stillness of mid- night, calling you to judgment ? But be it so that you should fill up threescore years and ten, it would still re- main true that you are on the threshold of the judgment. That period — long as it may now seem to you — is but as a hand's-breadth ; while you are dreaming of its conti- 65 nuance, it will be spent, and your spirit will be rushing forth to meet its God. And is it so, that the judgment is not only a reality, but that its amazing scenes are so soon to burst upon you ? Tell me, then, O immortal soul, what account you are prepared to render of that wasted, perverted life, when you enter the invisible world, and stand before the dread tribunal ? Contemplate, moreover, the circumstances of your be- ing brought into judgment. If you consider this expres- sion as referring to the removal of the soul by death to a state of retribution, then the circumstances of this event must, in a great measure, remain concealed, till they are disclosed to you in experience. In respect to some of them, however, you may form at least a probable opi- nion. By the power of a burning fever, or the gradual inroads of consumption, or perhaps by some more myste- rious form of disease, you may expect ere long to be laid upon the bed of death. It may be that, in that awful hour, you may be given up to delirium or insensibility, and may close your eyes upon the objects of sense without knowing where you are, or through what scenes you are passing. Or it may be that your rational powers will be active and bright, so that you will be conscious of all that happens to you in your passage through the dark valley. You may see around you beloved friends, who will alter- nately fasten upon you a look of mingled affection and agony, and turn away to smother the sobs which rise from a bursting heart. You may be sensible that the cold damps of death are already hanging upon your coun- tenance ; that the vital current is performing its last pas- sage through your heart ; that you are undergoing the convulsive struggle which is to dislodge the spirit from its clayey tabernacle. And supposing that your life has been devoted to sinful pleasure, how probable is it that conscience will pour its accusations into your ears, and tell you of an offended Judge, and of coming wrath, and of interminable wo ! How probable that the ghosts of F2 wasted hours, and days, and years, will come up in fright- ful succession before you, as ministers of wrath, when you need so much to be attended by angels of consola- tion ! Amidst some such assemblage of gloomy circum- stances as I have now supposed, you may expect that your spirit will take its flight for the eternal world. And while your body is dressing for the grave, that spirit will be mingling in scenes of new and awful interest ; and though it will have done with the agony attendant on the dissolution of the body, it will be convulsed by an agony far more dreadful — the beginning of a never-dying death. Oh what a moment will that be, when you shall first know by experience the misery of the lost ! But if you consider the text as referring immediately to the great day of final decision, the circumstances which will attend your being brought into judgment, will be of a far different character from those which we have just described ; and while, in the former case, we learn them principally from observation, in the latter, we derive our knowledge solely from the oracles of God. At the hour next previous to that in which the immediate preparation for the judgment shall commence, your body, dissolved into its original elements, will be slumbering with its kin- dred dust ; and your spirit will be mingling with other lost spirits in the region of despair. Suddenly the skies will send forth a sound — it will be a blast of the trump of God, which will echo from one end of the earth to the other, bursting open the doors of every sepulchre, break- ing up the slumbers of all their inhabitants, and re-col- lecting from the earth, the ocean, the air, the scattered dust of every child of Adam that shall have died since the creation. The union between body and spirit is re- stored — the same body that was laid in the dust, rises up to meet the same spirit which had animated it. The Judge descends from heaven, in the glory of his Father, and with all his holy angels ; and around his throne are assembled all nations, and kindreds, and tongues, and 67 people. The righteous are placed in open, distinguished honor, at his right hand ; the wicked, as a public proof of his indignation against their character, are summoned to the left. In this latter class, you, who have been de- voted to sinful pleasure, will be found. There you will be obliged to contemplate the picture of your life, drawn only in black, without one bright stroke to relieve the eye from a uniform and sickening gloom. There you will be obliged, with all others who have been u lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God," to hear the appalling sentence, " Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, pre- pared for the devil and his angels." Oh, when that piercing sound shall enter into your ear, will it not rend your heart with agony, and open your lips in wailing ? For " who can stand before his indignation ? And who can abide in the fierceness of his anger ?" Meditate, finally, on the consequences of your being brought into judgment. The consequence of your being summoned by death into a world of retribution, will be an entire separation from all the objects of sense, from all the means of grace, from all the hopes of salvation. You will remember, indeed, how you once mingled in scenes of unhallowed mirth and revelry ; but with the remembrance of these scenes will be associated the re- flection that they have gone by for ever ; while the effect of them remains to be felt in an interminable scene of anguish. You will think of sabbaths given you to pre- pare for heaven, but perverted to purposes cf mere amusement : of invitations and warnings a thousand times pressed upon you, but as often treated with indif- ference or contempt ; of friends who had come with the tenderest concern to speak to you of the things that be- longed to your peace, but who returned to their closets mourning that they could gain no access to your heart. But you will be obliged also to reflect that there are no more sabbaths for you ; that the last invitation of mercy, the last warning to repent, has died away upon your ear ; 68 that no christian friend can come where you are, to un- burden a full heart in prayers, and tears, and expostula- tions, for the salvation of your soul. You may remem- ber too, how, in all your mad pursuit of pleasure, you still clung to the hope of future repentance : but the de- lusion is broken up ; even the atoning blood of Jesus can now no longer reach you. And while you are an exile from all the good, real or imaginary, which you once en- joyed, you will be subject to the corrosion of a guilty conscience, will be a companion of fiends and reprobates, and as you look forward into eternity, will see one wo rising after another, like the billows of the ocean, in a train that will never end. The consequeuce of your being brought before the last tribunal, and of receiving a formal and final sentence from the lips of the Judge, will be still more tremendous. At the close of this awful transaction, you will behold, with a bewildered look of agony, all above, beneath, around, vaulted with the funereal fires of this great world ; and when amidst this final wreck of nature, you look out for a refuge from the fiery storm, no refuge in the universe will be open for yon, except that dungeon of wo in which the wrath of God is to have its perpetual operation. Into that prison of the universe, that grave of lost but living souls, you will immediately enter ; and there, in the hopelessness of unavailing anguish — there, amidst the curses and wailings of the lost — there, where the eye can fasten upon no object upon which the wrath of God has not fastened before it, you must run the dreary round of everlasting ages. The sentence was, " Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire." And is it so, that this prison is built for eternity ; — that these flames are kin- dled for eternity ; — that these bolts, and bars, and chains, bespeak an eternal residence in these vaults of despair ? Will not some messenger come hither from yonder blissful regions, though it be ten thousand millions of ages hence, to tell thee that this long night of suffer- 69 ing will yet be succeeded by a morning of peace and joy ? No, sinner, there are no such tidings in store for thee : thou wert sentenced there for a period as unlimited as the duration of God ; and thy sentence is irreversible, I inquire now of the conscience of every youth pre- sent, who is devoted to sinful pleasure, whether these meditations upon the judgment do not throw an aspect of terror over the course which he is pursuing ; and whe- ther he dare persist any longer in a course which must so certainly lead to such a tremendous result ? If this life of vanity and pleasure had no connexion with eter- nity, or if it were itself to be eternal, however pitiful a portion you might find in it, we might consent, with less reluctance, to leave you to your wretched choice : but connected as it is with a course of illimitable and unut- terable suffering, wonder not that we call upon you with pressing importunity to abandon it. Do you ask whe- ther you must abandon all the amusements of the world ? I answer — Abandon all upon which you dare not ask the blessing of God ; — all which crowd out of your thoughts the realities of eternity 5 — all which you are unwilling to think of in connexion with the prospect of dying — all for which you would dread that God should bring you into judgment. Do you ask, again, what those amuse- ments are in which you may safely indulge, while you are yet unreconciled to God ? I reply, by asking what amusement you would choose if you were just ready to be enveloped in the flames of a burning house ; or if you were under sentence of death, and had but one hour more, before you should ascend the scaffold ? Do you spurn at the suggestion of trifling in circumstances like these ? Then say not that we are superstitious when we tell you that you have no time to waste in amuse- ment, while yet your whole work for eternity is before you, and for aught you can tell, each passing hour may be your last. Do you plead for a single indulgence ? Do you say, let me go into one more scene of vain recrea- 70 tion, and cheer my heart once more in these days of my youth, and then I will abandon the vanities of the world for ever ? My young friend, the very resolution is a cheat : but even if it were not, who has told you that that one scene of recreation may not occupy the whole period given you to prepare for eternity ; and that you are not subjected to the alternative of turning your back upon it, or of certainly losing heaven ? Is it rational — rather is it not the height of madness, to waste a single moment, while you are suspended between an eternal heaven and an eternal hell ? I leave this solemn subject, beloved youth, with your consciences. I entreat you to make a serious and prac- tical application of it. I pray the God of all grace to bring it seasonably to your remembrance, and give it its legitimate influence over your feelings and conduct. But if all which has been said shall appear to you as an idle tale ; if, after having been warned of the solemnities of the judgment, you are prepared to rush back to a course of sinful pleasure, then I must leave you with the same awful irony, and the same solemn admonition, with which I began this discourse. " Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes ; but know thou, that for all these things, God will bring thee into judgment." LECTURE V REGARD TO THE FAVOR OF THE WORLD CONTRASTED 'VI TH A REGARD TO THE FAVOR OF GOD. 1st THESSALONIANS II. 4. NOT AS PLEASING MEN, BUT GOD, The church to which this epistie was addressed, is supposed to have been planted by Paul and Silas, soon after the outrages committed upon them at Phllippi, and recorded in the sixteenth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. In the verses immediately preceding the text, the apostle alludes to the signal success w^hich attended his first labors among the Thessalonians ; and notices, as an occasion of rejoicing, the fact that he and his com* panion in labor — notwithstanding the shameful treatment they had just met in a neighboring city, and the obsta- cles which they still had to encounter — were enabled, in the strength of divine grace, to preach the gospel with boldness and fidelity. And what chiefly encouraged them to these courageous efforts, was the reflection that they had no mercenary purposes to answer ; and that there was nothing in their management in respect to which they need shrink from the strictest scrutiny ; but all was open and honest ; " not as pleasing men,"' or as consulting the tastes and prejudices of the world, " but" 72 as endeavoring to secure the approbation of " God, which trieth our hearts." The text, you perceive, has a primary reference to ministers of the gospel. And surely, if there be a class of men, in respect to whom it is pre-eminently impor- tant that they should act under the influence of the principle which the apostle here recognizes, ministers of the gospel constitute that class. But it is important that all others should be governed by this principle, as well as ministers. It is especially important that its influence should be felt by persons in the morning of life ; because that is the period in which habits are formed, which, in most instances, constitute the elements of future cha- racter. When the apostle, in our text, institutes an apparent opposition between pleasing men and pleasing God, we are not to suppose that he intends to forbid every effort to please men ; for this would be inconsistent not only with many of his exhortations, but with his own con- duct. u Let every one of us/' saith he, " please his neighbor for his good to edification." And again : "I am made all things to all men, that I might, by all means, save some." The gospel not only allows, but requires, that we should seek the favorable regards of our fellow-men, especially, as a means of our own use- fulness ; and the course of conduct which it prescribes, is exactly fitted to such a result. Hence it has been said, with much truth and force, that the gospel contains the most perfect system of politeness which the world has seen. The apostle, in our text, intends only to contrast a supreme regard to the approbation of the world, and a supreme regard to the approbation of God, as governing principles of action; and to imply that they are per- fectly incompatible with each other. My purpose, in this discourse, is to illustrate and CONTRAST THE INFLUENCE OF THESE TWO DISPOSITIONS, 73 I. Upon human character : II. Upon human happiness. I. Upon human character. 1. I remark, in the first place, that it is the tendency of a supreme regard to the approbation of the world , to produce a fickle character ; of a supreme regard to the approbation of God, a stable one. Who that has any knowledge of the world, needs to be told that its maxims, principles, conduct, are con- stantly changing ? What, at one period, is admired as elegant, or praiseworthy, soon comes to be regarded with indifference, and perhaps ultimately sinks into contempt ; and on the other hand, what, at one time, is considered mean or worthless, gradually rises into respectability, and it may be, at length, becomes an object of admiration. For a complete illustration of this remark, you need only look into the walks of what is commonly called fashion- able life ; and you will see one fashion after another, in re- spect to manners, dress, equipage, and many other things, succeeding so rapidly, that even the devotees of fashion themselves are scarcely able to do homage to every new idol. Here you have a fair specimen of the fluctuation of human opinion. If then you make human opinion the standard of your conduct, and that standard is con- stantly varying, your conduct must of course exhibit a corresponding course of changes ; and here is the foun- dation of a fickle character. On the other hand, the person who seeks supremely the approbation of God, has a fixed standard of action. The law of God is his rule of duty ; and that law, like its author, is " the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." He may indeed sometimes be embarrassed, in respect to particular cases, to know what this law requires and what it forbids ; but, in general, it marks out for him a plain path. Hence he acts not only in conformity to a G 74 fixed standard, but generally without hesitation ; and in this way he cannot fail to acquire and to exhibit stability of character. 2. It is the tendency of a supreme regard to the appro- bation of the world, to produce a timid character; of a supreme regard to the approbation of God, a courageous one. The devotee of the world's favor has no easy task to perform. He well knows that he must shape his con- duct to suit different and opposite dispositions ; that in securing the approbation of one, he is liable to lose that of another ; and that the means which may seem to him best adapted to gain favor, may prove to be fraught with injury or disgrace. Besides, he has, sometimes, at least, a secret conviction that the course which he is pursuing is wrong ; and that his Maker and Judge is offended that the supreme homage of his heart should be withheld from Him. Here, then, is a double influence exerted to produce a timid character. On the one hand, he fears that he shall not gain the object which he is seeking : on the other, he fears that, if he does gain it, it will be at the expense of what is infinitely more valuable. Is it not obvious that a character formed under such an influ- ence, will be likely to bear a strong impression of ti- midity ? But in seeking supremely the favor of God, there is every thing to inspire true courage. There is the cer- tainty of success, which is always favorable to bold and vigorous action. There is the reflection, that he whose approbation we seek, is All-gracious and Almighty ; and that let the world do by us as it may, his favor is a suf- ficient portion. There is moreover the consideration that the course which we are pursuing is in itself the right course ; the course which reason, conscience, the bible, all prescribe. Who that acts under the influence of considerations like these, can fail to act with unyielding resolution ? 75 3. It is the tendency of a supreme regard to the appro- bation of the worlds to produce a hypocritical character ; of a supreme regard to the approbation of God, an honest one. I have already remarked that, owing to the different tastes and dispositions of men, it will often happen that that course of conduct which will gain the approbation of one, will forfeit that of another ; and hence he whose governing object is to please the world, will endeavor to appear to each one in such a character as he supposes will be most likely to secure regard ; and to conceal from each one whatever he thinks will serve to excite displeasure. If he happens to fall in with one who is a warm advocate of any particular measure, the desire of popularity will naturally lead him to appear as an advo- cate of it also ; or if he happens to be in the company of another by whom the same measure is opposed, the same desire will operate to induce him, if not to join in opposi- tion to the measure, at least, to say nothing in its favor. In this way he contracts the habit of dissimulation ; and his whole intercourse becomes a system of studied con- cealment. But on the other hand, he who is governed by a su- preme regard to the favor of God, has no motive to de- part from the path of open and honest dealing. If he were to do this, he would instantly defeat his object ; for not the approbation, but the frown, of Jehovah, attends all insincerity. Moreover, the course which he is pur- suing, neither involves guilt nor awakens shame : there is therefore no reason why he should attempt to conceal his conduct from his fellow-men, or Avhy he should desire to conceal it from his Maker. Hence his character bears upon it the impression of truth and honesty. 4. It is the tendency of a supreme regard to the appro- bation of the world to produce an inconsistent character ; of a supreme regard to the approbation of God, a con- sistent one. 76 As he who is governed by a supreme regard to the fa- vor of the world has no fixed rule of action, but is blown hither and thither by the breath of popular opi- nion, the different parts of his conduct must, of course, be inconsistent with each other. As the opinions of dif- ferent individuals whom he wishes to please, are at vari- ance, there must be a corresponding variance between the courses of conduct which he adopts in different cases, in order to gain his object ; and hence his life is a per- petual scene of contradictions. And if he happens to be a professor of religion, he is chargeable with a double in- consistency ; for not only are the different parts of his conduct inconsistent with each other, but his deportment as a whole, is utterly inconsistent with his profession ; for in his profession is implied an engagement to make the will of God, and not the opinions of men, the rule of his conduct. Most of the inconsistency that attaches it- self to the characters of professed christians, and I may add- — of all others, results, no doubt, from an improper desire to please the world. But he who acts from a supreme regard to the appro- bation of God, cannot fail to exhibit a consistent charac- ter. The rule by which his conduct is governed, re- quires that every duty should be done in its proper place ; and in adhering to this, his character, in its different parts, acquires a beautiful consistency and harmony, which it could acquire under no other influence. Such a person will not, on the one hand, neglect his retired du- ties — the duties of secret prayer, and reading the scrip- tures, and self-communion, for the sake of being con- stantly engaged in public religious exercises ; nor, on the other hand, will he excuse himself from the more public services of religion, on the ground that he is regular in the duties of the closet. He will not substitute works for faith, nor faith for works, but will exhibit both in bright and beautiful combination. He whose favor he seeks, requires that he should cultivate all the virtues 77 and graces of the christian ; and if he fail in respect to any, he so far incurs the divine displeasure. Hence his character is consistent with itself ; and if he be a pro- fessed follower of Christ, it is consistent with his pro- fession. Once more : It is the tendency of a supreme regard to the approbation of the world to produce an unholy cha- racter ; of a supreme regard to the approbation of God, a holy one. It is the decision of inspiration, that " the whole world lieth in wickedness ;" and what the bible teaches on this subject, observation abundantly confirms. It is only ne- cessary to look abroad into the world, to be satisfied that the maxims, the feelings, the practices, that generally prevail in it, are directly opposed to the spiritual and holy requisitions of God's word. He, therefore, who makes the approbation of the world his supreme object, must expect that his character will, in this respect also, take the stamp of the mould in which it is cast. Moreover, the very object which he is seeking, considered as a su- preme object, is unholy ; the means by which he en- deavors to gain it, are also unholy ; and under such an influence, how can he form any other than an unholy character ? It were a contradiction to suppose that a person should make the favor of the world his govern- ing object, and not retain that carnal mind which is en- mity against God. He, on the other hand, who seeks supremely the ap- probation of God, endeavors to be conformed to a stan- dard of perfect holiness. He can gain the divine appro- bation only by yielding obedience to the law which God has given him as the rule of his conduct ; and that law is perfectly holy. In endeavoring to obey its requisi- tions, he comes under a sanctifying influence ; he is brought immediately into the atmosphere of moral pu- rity. And the more earnestly he seeks the divine ap- G2 78 probation, by seeking conformity to the divine law, the more his character becomes assimilated to that of the in- finitely holy God. II. Such is the influence which the two principles brought to view in our text, exert upon human charac- ter. I am now, secondly, to illustrate the influence of the same principles on human happiness. And if the effect on character be as has been represented, it would seem that little need be said to illustrate the effect on happi- ness ; for it admits of no question, on the one hand, that a stable, courageous, honest, consistent, and holy cha- racter, is favorable to happiness ; nor, on the other, that a fickle, timid, hypocritical, inconsistent, and unholy character, has within itself the elements of misery. But as this is a point of great importance, I shall illustrate it by several distinct particulars. 1 . The person who seeks supremely the favor of the world !, has no assurance that he shall gain it : he who seeks supremely the favor of God, has certain evidence that his efforts will be successful. In order to estimate the difficulty of gaining the favor of the world, consider, for a moment, how difficult it often is to gain the favor of an individual. Not unfre- quently, the efforts to accomplish this object fail from the want of a proper knowledge of the disposition to be consulted ; or from their being made at an unpropitious moment ; or from suspicion being excited that they have originated in some selfish purpose. Hence it has often happened that the very means which have been used to secure favor, have resulted in producing displeasure or disgust. And if it is often so difficult to gain the fa- vor even of an individual, how much greater the task to gain that of many ; and how much greater still, that of the world ; or of that part of it with which we have in- tercourse. As the number of individuals, and of course 79 the variety of dispositions which we have to consult in our conduct, increases, the greater the probability that in- terfering claims will be made upon us which we shall not be able to meet, and that in gaining the favor of some, we shall provoke the jealousy of others. Thus, you perceive that, if you make the approbation of the world your supreme object, you can never be certain of gaining it ; at least in any considerable degree. Admit- ting that it were ever so valuable, when attained, you may, for aught you can tell, spend your days in seeking it, and die without having ever gained your object. But he who seeks supremely the favor of God, has an assurance that his efforts shall not be in vain. This as- surance results from the declarations of God, and from the experience of men. Jehovah, speaking under the name of Wisdom, says, " I love them that love me, and they that seek me early shall find me." And again, our Saviour says, u He that hath my commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me ; and he that loveth me, shall be loved of my Father ; and I will love him, and will manifest myself to him." And the testimony of experience corresponds with the declarations of God. Every person who has made the favor of God his su- preme object, has attained it ; and in far the greater num- ber of instances, the evidence of having attained it has been communicated in the light of God's countenance, and in the spirit of adoption. Every such instance con- veys an assurance that the favor of God may be gained, by all who will seek it in a proper manner. Here, then, you perceive one important point of diffe- rence between the two objects brought to view in our text ; — the difference between a certainty and an uncer- tainty. Even if the favor of God and the favor of the world, when actually gained, were equally valuable, as means of promoting happiness, yet you have no secu- rity that you can gain the one, while you have certain evidence that you may gain the other. Who that is 80 wise, would choose to spend his strength in pursuit of that which would probably elude his grasp, while his efforts might be directed towards another object, to say the least, of equal value, which was fairly within his reach ? 2. He who seeks supremely the favor of the world, if he gains it, has no security that he shall retain it : he who seeks supremely the favor of God, having once gained it j has an assurance that he shall retain it for ever. Who does not know, who has not felt, how unstable are human friendships ? Who of us has not witnessed cases in which the most ardent friendships — friendships which seemed formed for life, have suddenly given place to deep-rooted and bitter enmity ; and that too, it may be, from some circumstance of the most trifling nature ? Who of us has not, at some time, been met with distant reserve, where he anticipated a cordial welcome ; or who has not been pained to observe indications of diminished regard, when he has been conscious of having done no- thing to deserve it, and has been unable even to conjec- ture the occasion of the change ? Nor are these facts difficult to be accounted for. There is a fickleness be- longing to the human character, which goes far towards explaining it. Moreover, as you are yourself, but an imperfect and sinful being, you are liable, from the impulse of passion or the want of proper caution, to say and do some things which may wound the feelings of a friend, and ultimately produce a permanent aliena- tion : or you may say and do other things, with per- fectly innocent intentions, which, yet, from being misun- derstood, may produce the same unhappy effect : or some jealous rival, who wishes to supplant you in the affec- tions of your friend, may, by his disingenuous efforts, accomplish the object. You perceive, then, that if the favor of the world were worth ever so much in itself, and were gained with ever so much ease, its value would 81 be greatly abated by the consideration that you have no security that you shall retain it even for an hour. Must not the very enjoyment of it be embittered by the un- certainty of its continuance ; and what will you do, when it is actually gone, and has left you without any other resources ? Far otherwise is it with the favor of God. Gain that once, and you have gained it for eternity. The love which God bears for his people, is called, in scripture, an "everlasting love." Our Saviour declares concerning them, " I give unto them eternal life ; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand." I do not mean that the christian may not, by neglect of duty, lose, in some measure, the evidences of the divine favor, and provoke God to a temporary with- drawment of the light of his countenance. But I mean that he who is once reconciled to God, has his name written in the lamb's book of life ; and that name will never be blotted out : and even the temporary loss of divine consolation, he may and will, in a great measure at least, avoid, if he is faithful in the discharge of duty. Yes, I repeat, the favor of God, once gained, endureth forever. Principalities and powers may combine their efforts to wrest from the believer this possession, but it will still remain his. It is secured by the promise — the oath, of the ever-living Jehovah. 3. He who seeks supremely the favor of the world, even if he not only gains it, but retains it till the close of life, does not, after all, find in it what he needs : he who seeks supremely the favor of God, finds in it every thing that he needs. Be it so, that so long as the days of prosperity last, the man who seeks supremely the favor of the world, finds in it a portion with which he is tolerably satisfied ; — though I doubt not that even then, the heart sometimes sickens over the meagreness of its enjoyments, and longs for 82 something more substantial and satisfying : but let it not be forgotten, that in the calendar of human life are numbered many days of affliction. There are days of pain, when the hand of disease rests upon us, with con- vulsive and ominous pressure. There are days of be- reavement, when the light of friendship and hope goes out in our dwellings. Above all, there is the day of death, when this earthly tabernacle tumbles to ruins, and the spirit which has inhabited it takes its flight to other worlds. Weigh all the consolation to be derived from the favor of the world in either of these cases, and it will be lighter than vanity. Can the favor of the world make you forget the pains which convulse your system ? Can the favor of the world cheer your desolate heart, when your dearest friend goes down to the grave ? Will any light break from the favor of the world upon the valley of death, to cheer your passage from time into eternity ? On yonder dying bed lies a man, the grand object of whose life has been to gain the favor of the world : and now in this extremity of nature — this most fearful exigency of his existence, let the world be called upon to open its resources of consolation. Who now of all the children of the world shall go to that bed of death in the character of a comforter ? Shall the votary of wealth go, and talk to that dying sinner of his splendid domains or numerous possessions ? Shall the votary of pleasure go, and tell of some projected scene of amusement, where every heart will beat high with sensual joy ? Shall the stout-hearted and impious opposer of religion go, and talk fearlessly about dying, and exhibit all the black infidelity of his creed, and press the awful thought of annihilation ? Who will not say that all this is but an insult to the agonies of death ; and that they who have professedly come on an errand of consolation, have only imparted an additional sharpness to the pang of dying ? Go back, ye miserable comforters ; this is not the place for you. Here are agonies to be relieved, which your presence only serves S3 to heighten. This expiring sinner pants for something which it is not for you, or the world which you represent, to bestow ; and because he has it not, he is stung by remorse, or overwhelmed with despair. Such are the world's resources of consolation in respect to the calamities which befal us while we remain in it : And if it is so powerless to yield relief even here, what can it do for the soul when it shall have passed into the eternal world ? Think not that all the evils to which men are exposed, exist in the present life : the most fearful evils belong to the condition of the sinner in eternity. But when he has once passed the boundary of time, the world, if it had ever so many favors to bestow, can no longer reach him. The influence of what it has done is indeed felt, not in the mitigation, but in the aggravation of his doom ; but henceforth it can do nothing either to lessen or to increase his anguish. Oh, if the favor of the world could satisfy every desire in the present life, yet how poor a portion would it be, so long as it offers no provision for a future and eternal existence ! Not so with the all-sufficient God. When the arrows of affliction pierce the heart, Jehovah condescends to take up his residence in it, while it is yet bleeding and broken, as the Spirit of consolation. You may see what his Al- mighty grace can do, in that quiet and uncomplaining spirit which delights to count up the mercies of God, on the bed of pain. You may see it in the cheerful submis- sion with which the heart lets go the earthly objects and interests which it valued most ; in the serenity which settles upon the countenance, while the falling clods an- nounce that a beloved friend will never rise from his dark bed till the morning of the resurrection. You may see it especially in the sublime actings of that faith, which often enables the soul to hold sweet communion with its Redeemer in the valley of death, and to celebrate, as it were, the fall of the earthly tabernacle with a shout of victory. And beyond the boundaries of time, when the 84 soul wakes, conscious, active, immortal, and the world has no more that it can do, or even attempt to do, for the soul's comfort, there will flow out to it from the favor of God, blessings large as its desires — lasting as its existence. Tell me, ye votaries of the world's favor, what is it, when compared with the treasures of Almighty grace ? 4. He who seeks supremely the favor of the world, for- feits the peace of his conscience : he who seeks supremely the favor of God, secures the peace of his conscience. As there is an essential difference between virtue and vice, holiness and sin, so God has constituted us with the power of perceiving this difference ; and with the percep- tion, has connected a corresponding feeling of approbation Or disapprobation ; and in respect to our own conduct, of pleasure or pain. Now, that that course of conduct in which we seek supremely the favor of the world is a sinful course, admits of no question ; for surely it is the very essence of sin to withhold the heart from God. He who adopts such a course, then, must necessarily fall under the lash of his own conscience. He may indeed, for the most part, succeed in drowning her accusations in the din of pleasure or the din of business ; but sometimes, at least, she will speak with an authority and an energy that will make him tremble ; and with such an accuser as this in his bosom, it matters little how many friends he may have in the world. Moreover, conscience sternly points him to a retribution : she spreads out before him his sins, as matter of record in the book of God's remem- brance, and as matter for trial on the judgment day : she anticipates the condemning sentence, and the final doom ; and asks with awful emphasis, " Who can dwell with everlasting burnings ?" The martyr on the rack, or in the flames, may be happy ; for he has conscience on his side : but not he who is at war with himself, though he may dwell in a palace, or sit upon a throne. 85 He, on theother hand, who seeks supremely the favor of God, keeps a conscience, in a good degree, void of offence. The course of conduct which he must pursue in order to gain the divine approbation, is precisely that which conscience approves and prescribes. Hence, let his external circumstances be as they may, he has peace within — a peace that passeth understanding. And not only has he the delightful consciousness of doing right, but he can look upward to the throne of God, and recog- nize in the august Being who sits thereon, a forgiving Father : he can look forward to the eternal world, and in the bright glories of Heaven, can recognize his own future and everlasting portion. Say, ye who have known what it is to have a conscience burdened with guilt, and have afterwards known what it is to have that burden removed by the application of the peace-speaking blood of Christ ; — say whether a good conscience — a pacified conscience, is not among the richest blessings to be enjoyed on this side heaven ? 5. I observe in the last place, that he who seeks su- premely the favor of God, is more likely to gain the favor of the world, than he who makes the favor of the world his chief object. It is a truth never to be forgotten, that men are consti- tuted with an original sense of right and wrong ; and that nothing but an extreme degree of depravity can materially impair it. Hence it is not at the option of men whether they will respect virtue or not : they may indeed profess to despise it, and make it the theme of ridicule and insult ; but they cannot, unless by a long course of flagrant wickedness, extinguish that sentiment of reverence for it, which belongs to their nature. Does not the world re- spect stability, honesty, consistency, of character? I hesitate not to make the appeal to the most fickle, dis- honest, and inconsistent of the children of the world ; and whatever may be the testimony of their lips, I doubt not H 86 that their consciences will return an affirmative answer. In the exhibition of these traits of character, no doubt, there will be some things to which their feelings will be opposed ; but nothing which will not accord with their conviction of what is right, reasonable, and honorable. Moreover, in making the favor of God your supreme object, you necessarily adopt a course of conduct from which the world cannot fail to derive much advantage. You not only cautiously avoid doing them injury, but you aim, by every means in your power, to promote their best interests. Now I maintain that, as depraved as man is, he has too much of conscience, and I may say ordinarily too much of gratitude, to be able altogether to resist such an appeal. Show a man that you are his friend, by doing every thing you can for his benefit, and let this course be continued for a long time, and it must be a deeply rooted prejudice indeed, which will not yield to such an exhibi- tion of kindness. " And who is he that will harm you," says the apostle, "if ye be followers of that which is good ?" But what appears so probable from the nature of the case, is abundantly confirmed by facts. Look abroad and decide for yourselves, who is the person to whom the world renders the most substantial tribute of respect. Is it not the man who is stable in all his purposes, and who has moral courage to carry them into effect ; who is honest in all his dealings, both before God and man ; whose conduct is consistent with itself, and consistent with his profession ; and w r ho maintains a close and holy walk with God ? I dare appeal to any of you, my young friends, for an answer. Is it not manifest, then, both from reason and from fact, that they w T ho seek supremely the favor of the world, mistake in respect to the best means of gaining it ; and that it is the ordinance of God that it should be found of those, of whom it may be said comparatively that they seek it not ? 87 And now, my young friends, will not every one of you resolve, here on the threshold of life, that you will make the favor of God, and not the favor of the world, your grand object of pursuit ? Is it not evident that the world is a hard master ; that while its favor is difficult to be gained, it is easy to be lost ; that all that it can do for its votaries, it does in seasons of prosperity, when they are least in need ; and that when the evil days come, it leaves them to struggle unassisted with calamity and death ? Is it not manifest, on the other hand, that it is a most profit- able employment to seek the favor of God : for his favor is not only easily gained, and when gained, is never lost, but it is life ; it meets all the exigencies of the soul in every period of its existence. Moreover it keeps the soul at peace with itself ; and saves it from the shudderings of guilt, and the forebodings of hell. And even the world itself renders its best tribute to the man who seeks su- premely the favor of God. Be it your fixed purpose, then, in every step that you take, to endeavor to gain the divine approbation. In all the various parts of your de- portment, in all your intercourse with the world, espe- cially in the adoption of your religious sentiments, and the formation of your religious character, let the grand inquiry be, ( What will please God who searcheth the heart ?' Do this, and no matter whether the world smile, or whether the world frown ; for you can look inward to an approving conscience, and upward to an approving God. LECTURE VI. RELIGION AN ALL-PERVADING PRINCIPLE . MATTHEW XIII. 8. BUT OTHER FELL INTO GOOD GROUND, AND BROUGHT FORTH FRUIT. One of the most fruitful sources of self-deception, especially among the young and inexperienced, is the disposition which prevails to take partial views of religion. There are those who make the whole of religion consist in a correct creed ; and expect to be saved by their faith, though it neither purifies the heart, nor controls the life. There are those whose religion is made up entirely of strong emotion ; who make the evidence of christian cha- racter turn solely upon the point of powerful excitement ; regarding it as only a secondary concern, what they be- lieve on the one hand, or how they live on the other. And there are others still, with whom the morality of the life is all in all ; who, while they refrain from open vice, and are honest in their dealings, and punctual to their engagements, and perhaps charitable to the poor, pro- nounce an attachment to the truths of the bible, bigotry ; and the inward experience of the power of these truths, enthusiasm. Each of these classes has, at best, but a partial religion. They are all chargeable with separating things which God hath joined together ; and they despoil Christianity not only of its beauty, but of its power. H2 90 The parable from which our text is taken, is designed to illustrate the different influence which the gospel exerts upon different hearts, according to their preparation for receiving it. The text itself illustrates the influence of the gospel on a heart that has been mellowed and pre- pared for its reception by divine grace. By the seed, we are to understand the word of God. By the good ground, an honest heart. By its bringing forth fruit, its substan- tial and visible effect in a course of external obedience. The plain import of the passage then is, that the word of God being cordially believed, or received through the understanding into a good heart, becomes the principle of a holy life ; in other words, that religion is an all- pervading PRINCIPLE. In illustrating this sentiment, I observe, I. First, that Religion demands the homage of the in- tellect^ and requires that the truth should be believed, I am not about to plead the cause of those who will have it that perfect agreement in religious opinion is necessary to constitute the basis of mutual charity ; or that absolute freedom from theological error is essential to our acceptance with God : for if the former of these were true, the christian brotherhood would either be completely dissolved, or would be reduced almost to nothing : if we were to admit the latter, it might well be asked, c Who then can be saved ?' Nor is it any part of my design to agitate the delicate and difficult question, i What degree of religious error may be held in consistency with a claim to christian character ?' For he that reflects at all must perceive that no general answer to this inquiry can be given ; for as men are to be judged according to the light which they enjoy, the same degree of error may be in- comparably more dangerous in some circumstances than in others. Without inquiring, therefore, what the leading truths of the gospel are, I am only concerned, at present, to show, that whatever they are, they are to be believed ; 91 and that he who refuses his assent to them, cannot, in any proper sense of the word, be considered a christian. For in the first place, I may ask, if it is not important that the truths of the gospel should be believed, wherefore did God reveal them ? If you admit that God is a Being of infinite wisdom, you must also admit that his views of things are all perfectly right ; and that whatever He re- gards important, certainly is so. What, then, I ask, shall we infer from the fact of his having made a revelation, except that He judged it important that such a revelation should be made ? And if this be a legitimate inference even from the fact, is it not still more so from the circum- stances of the fact ; from the wonderful expense at which this revelation was given to the world, and the wonderful interest which has been manifested for its preservation ? Would Jehovah, think you, have raised up a succession of men, reaching through a period of many centuries, and anointed them with his own Spirit, that they might com- municate his will without the possibility of error ; and would he have miraculously interposed by his providence, to preserve this inspired record amidst revolutions in which every human record has perished, if, after all, he regarded it as a matter of inconsiderable moment ? Has he not, then, by his providence, inscribed upon it his own esti- mate of its value ? But if Jehovah regards this revelation important, whence does it derive its importance in his estimation ? Doubtless from the fact that it is designed to be instru- mental of promoting his glory in the salvation of men. But how can it subserve this object, unless you believe it, any more than a system of pagan philosophy, which you have never taken the trouble to examine, or if you have, have thrown it by as bearing the stamp of absurdity or imposture ? In refusing your assent to the truths of the Bible, then, you set up your wisdom against that of the Eternal ; you virtually declare that the communica- tion of his will made at an unparalleled expense, does not 92 deserve your regard : you close against it even the doors of your understanding ; and what greater affront than this can you offer to the Almighty Being who dictated it ? But you say, perhaps, that you believe the Bible, and therefore these remarks are inapplicable to you. I an- swer, they are not inapplicable, provided you hold the maxim that it is no matter what a man believes in respect to its leading truths ; for if it is no matter what he be- lieves, it is no matter whether he believes any thing. Talk not of your belief either in the authority or the doctrines of revelation, so long as you maintain that a rejection of either is innocent ; for reason herself is at no loss to answer the question whether that faith is of any value which pronounces it innocent to contemn the au- thority of God, and slight his acknowledged communica- tions. Let no one here, professing to admit the claims of the Bible to be a divine revelation, repeat the hackneyed al- legation against it, that its meaning is obscure ; and that where there is so much room for difference of opinion, it were rash to fix a limit to our charity. In respect to minor points of christian doctrine, let the principle, if you will, be admitted ; but the moment you extend its appli- cation to the leading truths of the gospel, you virtually arraign Jehovah on the charge of trifling with his crea- tures. You bring against him the accusation of having professedly given a revelation to mankind — a revelation too which involves their destiny for eternity — and yet of having framed it in such a manner that it actually amounts to no revelation ; because its meaning is incapable of being satisfactorily ascertained. Nor can you escape from this fearful reflection upon the Divine character, by saying that this effect is chargeable to the limited powers of the human mind ; because the author of it knew well the character of the beings for whom it was designed, and the same Being who maae tne mind, made the revelation ; and to say that he did not adapt the one to the other, would be 93 nothing less than to charge him with a deficiency either of wisdom or goodness. I repeat, then, he who makes the obscurity of the Bible an apology for error in respect to any of its prominent doctrines, puts himself in the im- pious attitude of God's accuser : he lifts his arm toward the eternal throne, and insolently asks, " Why doest thou so ?" Another consideration which shows that a belief of the truth is an essential part of religion, is, that all good prac- tice must have its foundation in good principles. I know indeed there may be that which to the eye of man shall appear to be good practice — there may be an external morality so correct as to defy the most rigid human scru- tiny, and yet it may all be the operation of the merest selfishness — the homage which a heart in rebellion against God renders to the good opinion of the world. But when we speak of good practice in connexion with religion, we can mean nothing less by it than that which is good in the sight of God ; and as He searches the heart, surely no external actions can be good in his sight, except those which are prompted by good motives — which are built upon good principles. Men adopt the same rule, so far as they can, in judging of each other ; that is, they estimate the character of actions by the supposed motives in which they originate ; though from the imperfection of their views, they are always liable to be deceived. But Jehovah can never call evil good, or good evil ; for every motive and principle of human conduct is perfectly open to his inspection. Now, what think you, in the view of God, must con- stitute the principles of action which he can approve ? What, but the truths which he has revealed in his word ? Are not the motives which they contain for pursuing the course of action which is here pointed out, not only the most rational, but the most weighty, which it is possible for the human mind to contemplate ? But these truths can never become with you the principles of action, un- 94 less they are believed ; so that in the rejection or the neglect of them, you actually undermine the foundation of a good life, and render your claims to religious charac- ter as baseless as the fabric of a vision. Separate now from religion a belief in the great truths of the bible, and see whether, in this new form, she does not seem to you maimed, and stripped of her glory. What is the religion of the heart, if the heart be not under the influence of divine truth ? If it be any thing that has the semblance of religion, it is mere animal ex- citement. It is the fever of the soul — the fire of the passions, now breaking out furiously and now dying away : it is a gust of enthusiasm, which perhaps passes over in an hour, but is yet desolating as a whirlwind. It has in it nothing of uniformity or consistency ; it yields no solid comfort ; it prompts to no useful actions. It is, if I may be allowed the expression, a religion of acci- dent ; it rises and falls, it burns and expires, none can predict when, and none can imagine why. And if such be the religion of the heart, where there is any experi- mental religion professed, apart from the operation of christian principle, what will you say of the religion of the life ? There may indeed be an occasional paroxysm of blind zeal ; but in general you may expect to find a deplorable neglect of duty, as unlike the christian life as the most opposite elements are different from each other. But suppose it be otherwise, and the life be most scru- pulously correct, and every external duty be performed with pharisaical exactness, what is it, after all, but the body without the spirit ; a professed recognition of your obligations to obey God, while yet, at the same time, you actually refuse to obey him ; for this you do, let your external deportment be what it may, so long as you act from any other principles than those which he has prescribed for the regulation of your conduct. Sup- pose that a fellow-creature were to render you the most essential service, and to act towards you the part of the 95 greatest benefactor ; but that you should afterwards know that in all his apparent efforts for your benefit, he had actually had no regard for you, but was aiming only at the accomplishment of some selfish purpose ? Would not such a discovery materially change your opinion of his character, and annihilate every sentiment of obliga- tion towards him ? Estimate, then, on the same prin- ciple, the character of that external obedience which is rendered to God, and which is sadly misnamed a good life, when it results not from a belief of God's truth, or from a regard to his authority, but from the operation of that spirit of selfishness which is but another name for rebellion. I appeal, finally, to the Bible itself ', for direct proof that a belief of its doctrines enters essentially into the nature of religion. The apostle, in writing to the He- brews, declares, that u without faith it is impossible to please God." John the Baptist, whose ministry was de- signed as a preparation for the establishment of Christ's kingdom, exhorted those whom he addressed, to " be- lieve the gospel." Our Saviour himself has declared, " He that belie veth — shall be saved ; but he that be- lie veth not shall be damned." And again, u Verily, ve- rily, I say unto you, he that heareth my word and be- lie veth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life ; and he shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life." If a belief of the truths of the gospel, then, be so important that God has thought proper to make it the subject of an express command ; if he has declared that it is essential to obtaining his favor, and has suspended upon it the possession of everlasting life, who will doubt that it enters essentially into the nature of true religion ? But you will say that the faith which the passages to which I have referred, contemplate, is something more than a mere intellectual belief ; that it includes the exer- cise of the affections, Be it so : but it involves the a&- 96 sent of the understanding also, and cannot exist without it: for to suppose that any truth could influence the heart, from which the understanding witheld its assent, were an absurdity. We are warranted, therefore, in ap- plying to the faith of the intellect the passages which have been quoted, so far as to say, that without this faith (I here speak of those who enjoy the gospel) it is impos- sible to obtain the divine favor, or to secure eternal life. More than this is indeed necessary ; but without this, nothing else can be of any avail. Thus I have endeavored to show you that a belief of God's truth, an intellectual assent to the doctrines of the bible, is an essential part of religion ; — so essential that the maxim that it is no matter what a man believes, is perfectly at war with the genius of the gospel, and utterly unworthy the character of a christian. But, II. Religion demands the homage of the hearty and requires that the truth should be felt. Though it begins with the understanding, it does not end there : the un- derstanding is only the door through which it makes its way to the heart. In illustration of this sentiment, I observe that all tlve great truths of revelation are directly calculated to call into exercise the affections. Is man susceptible of fear ? If by fear be meant a holy reverence, what better fitted to awaken this sentiment than the scriptural character of God ? Or if we understand by it a dread of evil, what better calculated to excite it, than the fearful outline which the bible has given us of the condition of the lost ? Is man susceptible of gratitude ? Where is to be found the record of so much condescension and love, of so much suffering voluntarily endured, and endured for enemies, as is exhibited in the word of God ? Is man a creature of sorrow and of joy ? What better calculated to melt him into sorrow, than a contemplation of the eviJ of sin, and of his own sins in particular, especially when PI 97 viewed in their connexion with the cross of Christ? And what can waken in his breast a thrill of joy, if it be not a view of the glories of the divine character, and the glories of redemption, and the glories of immortality, as they are brought to view in the word of God ? Is man susceptible of hope ? What object in the universe ought to be an object of desire, if it be not the incorruptible in- heritance which is reserved in heaven for the faithful ; and what more could be done to place it within his reach, and to make it a proper object of expectation and of ef- fort, than the word of God assures us has actually been done I In short, I will venture to say, that there is not an emotion of the soul, which it is right to indulge, which the truth of God, in some or other of its parts, is not fitted to awaken. Surely, then, the author of our religion must have designed that it should be a reli- gion for the affections, else its truths would not have been so adapted to call them into exercise. Again : Religion is designed to promote our happiness ; but it can do this only as it influences the affections ; for happiness has its seat in the affections. No exercise of the understanding can yield any enjoyment, apart from the influence which it exerts upon the feelings. It is possible that a mathematician may be enraptured in the contemplation of lines and angles ; but the enjoyment consists not in the abstract contemplation, but in the feeling of admiration and interest which is awakened by it. There is enjoyment in the operation of many of the af- fections of the soul — in hope, in love, in gratitude, in submission, yes, and even in godly sorrow ; but there is no enjoyment in the bare operation of the intellect, be- cause the intellect is not the seat of enjoyment. If then religion will answer the great purpose which it proposes, that of making man happy, it must address itself to him as a creature of feeling ; and it must bring before him considerations which are fitted powerfully to affect his feelings ; and any religion which should not do this, I 98 would mistake the character of man, and would be alto- gether inadequate to the exigencies for which it was in- tended to provide. As we here assume the fact that our religion is of divine origin, and that it is intended to make men happy, and as all experience proves that happiness has its seat in the affections, w r e are brought instantly to the conclusion that it claims the homage of the heart, not less than of the understanding ; and that he whose religion terminates in the intellect, has not a religion to render him happy. Moreover, let the word of God be brought to testify to this point, and you will find that its testimony is equally decisive and abundant. I have already alluded to the fact that the faith which the gospel makes a condition of salvation, is not merely the faith of the understanding, but of the affections. Accordingly, when the eunuch inquired of Philip in regard to the propriety of his being baptized, the reply was, i If thou believest with all thine heart, thou mayest.' Is the exercise of repentance also a condition of salvation ? But who does not know that repentance is chiefly a work for the affections ? Does the word of God require that we should " rejoice in the Lord alway ;" that we should be " patient in tribula- tion ; M that we should be " meek and lowly in heart ;" that we should " love one another with a pure heart, fer- vently ;" that we should " be spiritually minded, which is life and peace ?" In making these requisitions, do you not perceive that it has identified the very existence of religion with the exercise of the affections ? And what testimony shall be regarded as decisive, if this be pro- nounced insufficient ? Is it not manifest, then, that let your religion embrace as much truth as it will, and as much external morality as it may, it can never be the religion which God re- quires, or which your own eternal interests demand, un- less it reaches the heart ! I proceed to a 99 III. Third, and the only remaining consideration to which I shall call your attention, which is, that religion demands the homage of the life, and requires that the truth should be obeyed. And on this article, a few hints, surely, may suffice ; for however men may deny the im- portance of a correct creed, or of experimental piet}-, there are none but the grossly abandoned, who would dare to deny that it is essential to religion, to live what is commonly called a good life. If I have succeeded in the preceding part of the dis- course, in showing that correct faith and correct feeling- are essential parts of religion, you will perceive that the proposition which has just been announced, is only an in- ference from what has already been proved ; for a good life is just as certain to result from good principles and good affections, as a stream is sure to proceed from a fountain. Correct principles alone do not indeed insure correct conduct ; for every day's experience shows that men whose moral and religious opinions are the most un- exceptionable, flagrantly violate their own convictions, and rush into the haunts of iniquity. But where cor- rect opinions are suffered to have their legitimate influ- ence on the affections, where faith in the truths of re- ligion purifies the heart, there you may look for a holy life with as much confidence as you can calculate on any effect from its known cause. And let me say that all external reformation which is not produced in this way, is of little value. If it be the effect of correct principles united with correct feelings, if it be the fruit of the good seed sown in good ground, you may expect not only that it will be lasting, but that it will become more and more complete. But if it be brought about in any other way, let it be apparently ever so promising, you cannot depend upon its continuance ; for it has no root in itself; and while it does continue, it is, to the Searcher of hearts, only a fair covering thrown over a principle of hostility and rebellion. 100 Moreover, it is the genius of the gospel, that it is in the highest degree practical ; for while a cordial belief of its truths forms in man the spirit of obedience, it mi- nutely prescribes for him a course of external duty, and leaves him at no loss in respect to what he ought to do in any of the relations of life. Be your rank high or low, be the measure of your responsibility comparatively great or small, be your circumstances in life what they may, open the bible, and here the path of duty is so plainly marked out, that you can have no apology for mistaking it. It is marked out too by a divine hand, and comes to you under the sanction of divine authority. Thus I have endeavored to show you that religion takes cognizance of the whole man ; that it claims the homage of the intellect, the homage of the heart, the homage of the life. I have discussed this subject, my young friends, the rather, as it seems to me that there are some features in the religious character of the present age, from which you are peculiarly exposed to the adoption of a partial re- ligion. The present is an age of controversy ; a period in which there are a thousand conflicting opinions in re- spect to religious truth ; and there is great reason to fear that, instead of referring these opinions to the law and the testimony, to ascertain what is right, you will hastily conclude from the contradictions and absurdities which many of them involve, that none of them can be very important, and that there can be no great hazard in re- maining unsettled upon a subject which admits of such variety of speculation. Or else, on the other hand, there is danger that, in the heat of controversy, you will attach so much importance to your own opinions, as to make you feel that religion is a matter of opinion and nothing else ; and that the correctness of your creed may atone for the obliquities of your heart or life. The pre- sent also is an age of revivals, when the operations of II 101 the Spirit of God in awakening and converting sinners seem to be more powerful and rapid than in ages that have gone by ; and there is so much said, and properly said too, of the state of the feelings in connexion with the evidence of christian character, that you are in dan- ger of taking up the delusion that religion is only a set of emotions, and that the great end of religion is accom- plished in mere animal excitement. Moreover, the present is an age of action ; there is a stirring almost throughout the church of God, in behalf of the interests of Christ's kingdom, such as has never been witnessed before ; and there is something so noble in the project of extending the gospel through the world, that millions of hearts are beating high for its accomplishment. But may there not be danger, while you are putting forth your hand to this high and holy enterprise, that you will come to imagine that what you are doing for others, is an apology for what you are neglecting to do for your- self ; and that while your hands are so busy in the cause of man's salvation, you may be safe in neglecting to as- certain the holy truths of the gospel, and in neglecting to yield your hearts to their influence ? I advert to these dangers, that you may think of them, if you have not ; and that you may think more of them, if you have ; for if I mistake not, neither their reality, nor their magni- tude, admits of question. I counsel you, that you may effectually avoid them, to become established in the truth ; but remember that, if this is all that your religion does for you, it will leave you to perish. Advance far- ther, then, and let the truth have its legitimate effect up- on your heart ; in melting you into penitence, in reno- vating your affections, in imparting to you the spirit of adoption — the confidence, the submission, the humility, of a child of God. And finally, let the holy principles and feelings which you have drawn from the word of God, be acted out in the life ; in whatsoever things are 12 102 pure, and lovely, and honest, and of good report. Such a character as this would attract the homage of the world, the admiration of angels, the benediction of God. It would be the pledge of the highest happiness to be en- joyed on earth, and of an exceeding and eternal weight of glory in heaven. LECTURE VII. PERSUASIVE TO RELIGION* LUKE XIV. 17, COME, FOR ALL THINGS ARE KOW READY. The parable of which these words are a part, was in- tended primarily to illustrate the sovereign grace of God in causing the gospel to be first preached to the Jews, their contemptuous rejection of it, and its being subse- quently offered to the Gentiles. It is susceptible, however, of a much more extensive application ; as containing a faithful description of the gracious conduct of God to- wards all to whom the gospel comes, on the one hand, and of the reception which it too often meets in every age, on the other. The gospel is here represented under the similitude of a feast ; and it is the business of Christ's ministers, as it was the business of the servants in the parable, to go abroad and publish the invitation. It is the design of this discourse to bring home this invitation to the hearts of the young ; to endeavor to attract them by an exhibition of the grace of the gospel, to a compliance with its requisi- tions. Let every youth, then, who listens to this dis- course, consider himself affectionately addressed in the language of the text — " Come, for all things are now ready." 104 The text obviously suggests two topics : The sufficiency of the gospel feast : The invitation to the gospel feast. Let us attend to them in their order. I. The sufficiency of the gospel feast : — " All things are now ready." This branch of the discourse may be illustrated by showing that the gospel makes provision for all the moral wants of man. Particularly, It contemplates him as ignorant, and provides for his instruction. There are many truths connected with reli- gion, which God may be said to have inscribed on the works of his hands ; — truths which relate especially to his own existence, character, and government ; and these, no doubt, it is within the province of a well-directed reason to trace in the contemplation of his works ; but experience proves that even these truths, reflected as they are from every part of the creation, can yet be completely over- looked through the blinding influence of human depravity. There are other truths, however, of vital importance to man, upon which the book of nature is entirely silent, and at which it were impossible for man to arrive in the most faithful use of his unassisted powers : these God has been pleased to make the subject of a written revelation ; and that revelation we have in the gospel. In estimating the importance of the gospel as a fountain of knowledge, ob- serve how great the advantage which it has over every other. Its truths are the most sublime that ever occupied, or ever can occupy, the mind of man ; and the contempla- tion of them is fitted to exalt all his intellectual and moral faculties. They are also intimately blended with his own highest interests, both as it respects this world and the world to come ; insomuch that G od himself has declared that " he that believeth" them " shall be saved, and he that believeth" them "not, shall be damned." And 105 moreover, they come to us upon the authority of God ; so that, in receiving them, we have the highest possible evi- dence that we are not embracing a system of error. Say now, whither shall man repair for instruction, but to the gospel ? Where else can he find truth so sublime, so important, so unmixed, as here ? Let him read whatever has been written by the wise men of the world, whether in ancient or modern times ; and after having wearied himself with the endless absurdities and contradictions into which they have fallen on the most momentous of all subjects, let him return to the gospel, and draw living water out of these wells of salvation. Here he will find every thing simple, perspicuous, sublime ; — a field in which the noblest intellect may expatiate forever, and be continually advancing in its discoveries from glory to glory. Again : The gospel contemplates man as guilty, and provides for his forgiveness. I know that it is possible for the voice of conscience to be drowned, in a great de- gree, amidst the strife and tumult of the world ; and I doubt not that there is a point in depravity beyond which conscience becomes powerless in this life, even to warn the sinner of his approaching doom : but I know too that this principle of conscience makes part of every man's moral constitution ; and that it intimates to every one more or less distinctly, and more or less frequently, the fact that an eternal retribution awaits him ; and that, in consequence of being a sinner, he is exposed to the displeasure of God. Does he ask reason whether it is possible that sin can be forgiven ; and if so, through what channel forgiveness can be communicated ? Ah, he has consulted reason on a point upon which she has nothing to say : and if she speaks, it is only to display her igno- rance, or to confess it. But let him resort to the gospel, and he will obtain a full solution of the momentous pro- blem : here he will find it written by the finger of inspi- ration, that God can now " be just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus ;" that " God so loved the 106 world, that he gaye his only begotten son, that whosoever belie veth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Here is a plan revealed, to the wonder of angels as well as of men, by which Jehovah manifests himself at once the inflexible Judge, and the merciful Father. No matter though his iniquities may have risen mountain-like to the heavens ; no matter though he may have been dis- tinguished among the most obdurate transgressors, and may have persevered in his rebellion long after he had seemed ripe for the employments of fiends ; yet his case is not so desperate, but that there is an efficacy in the blood of Christ to reach it. Whoever will comply with the requisitions which the gospel proposes, shall hear a voice from the sanctuary of God's grace, saying, " Be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee." Farther : The gospel contemplates man as polluted^ and provides for his sanctification. Not more true is it that man is exposed to the curse of God's law, than that his nature is in ruins : he is laboring under a spiritual malady, which, unless it is arrested and removed, must prove fatal to the soul ; — a malady for which the wisdom of the world has long since proved itself inadequate to find out a cure. Here again, what reason could not do, the gospel has done. All the truths which it reveals, espe- cially the great doctrine of redemption by the blood of Christ, are fitted to constrain, to exalt, to quicken the affections, and to bring the whole soul under a purifying influence. But this is not all. God is pleased to ac- company the gospel with the direct influence of his Spirit ; by which especially the rebellion of the heart is subdued, evil affections and desires are eradicated, old things pass away, and all things become new. And it is by this in- fluence that the work of sanctification is not only begun in the soul, but carried forward till it is perfected in glory. Here then is a fountain open for sin and uneleanness ; — a complete remedy for the disease of man's moral nature 107 I observe, once more, that the gospel contemplates man as subject to death, and makes provision for his immor- tality. I do not say that reason is absolutely dumb on the subject of a future existence ; but I do say that, after reason has done her utmost to satisfy the anxious inquiries of nature on that subject, she has done comparatively little ; and even that little has been rather in the way of vague conjecture, than positive demonstration. I do say that, with all the light that she can shed upon the valley of death, it must be, in every case, a dark valley still ; and that he who takes her for his guide, must lay in his account for a hard conflict with doubt and terror, when flesh and heart are failing. Approach the gospel now, and see what relief it has to render to the mind struggling with apprehension in the attempt to look beyond the grave. In the first place, it fully establishes the fact that the spirit lives after the body is dead. Then it goes far- ther, and opens up the prospect of an exact retribution ; describing, so far as the subject falls within the compre- hension of man, the miseries of the lost, and the happiness of the saved. And finally, it reveals the fact that the grave shall ere long give up the dead that are in it ; and that the righteous dead shall come forth clothed with a body that shall reflect the purity and lustre of the heavens. And what is death to the christian, when contemplated in the view of truths like these ? What but a passage — a rough and stormy passage, if you plea.se — from a region of comparative darkness, to a region of perfect light ; from a state of trial, and sin, and conflict, to a state of perfect holiness, to the possession of a crown of life ! May not the believer look down into the grave with triumph, and even welcome the ravages of the death-worm, if this be only a refining process by which his body is to become fitted to bear an eternal weight of glory ? Oh, yes, my young friends, the doctrine of immortality, the doctrine of the resurrection, is, to the christian, like a star of life rising out of the shadows of the tomb. Fixing his eye upon it, 108 well may he recline upon his Saviour's breast, and breathe his life out sweetly there ! II. I have now endeavored to show you that the gospel makes provision for all the moral wants of man ; thus illustrating the sufficiency of the gospel feast : Let me now, secondly, direct your attention to the invitation to the gospel feast — " Come." As the blessings which are offered in this feast are spiritual blessings, so the act by which they are received is a spiritual act — the act of faith. To come, therefore, in the sense of the text, denotes a cordial acceptance of the Lord Jesus Christ in all the glories of his person, and in all the benefits of his purchase. But reserving this point for distinct consideration in a future discourse, let me, under this article, direct your attention to two in- quiries : 1 . To whom is this invitation addressed ? It is addressed to the skeptical youth. I am persuaded, my young friend, that if you have given up the gospel, you have not known what you have been doing ; or if you indulge doubts in respect to its divine authority, you do so only because you have not been willing to submit to an examination of its evidence. And though you are afar off, I earnestly call upon you to retrace your steps, and to receive not only with the understanding, but the heart, this gospel which you seem inclined to put away from you. So long as you retain your present ground, if the gospel be true, you cannot doubt that your case is hopeless ; and you surely ought not to presume that it is not true, but upon evidence entirely unexceptionable. Come, then, and see whether it be not true. Come and subject its claims to divinity to as severe a test as you will ; and if you do it with an honest heart, I doubt not that the result will be that you will give all your skepti- cism to the winds. Come and examine its doctrines, and see whether they are not consistent, sublime, adapted in 109 every way to the moral wants of man. And while you open your understanding to the light of truth, yield your heart to its purifying influence ; and then all the rich pro- vision which the gospel offers shall become yours. Yes, though you have been so ungrateful as to question its divinity, and to cavil about its truths, you are invited to return and partake of the waters of life as freely as if you had never turned your back upon them. But this invitation is addressed also to the profligate youth. Notwithstanding you are young, you have al- ready ventured into the way of the ungodly, and perhaps have even sat in the seat of the scorner, and possibly may have sunk to a point in profligacy, at which you have become reckless even of the woes of perdition. And if, at any time, the startling thought of a retribution rises in your mind, and you are forced, for a moment, to realize that there is a just God in heaven, and that you have within you an immortal spirit, which, if unrenewed, is destined to fall under his consuming wrath, not improba- bly you take refuge from your reflections in the imagined hopelessness of your condition ; taking for granted that you must remain where you are, and resolving to make yourself easy as long as possible. I should belie my own convictions if I should say that, in such a case, judging from analogy, there is strong ground of hope for a radical change of character ; but I should certainly be wanting to my duty as a minister of Christ, if I should not proclaim even to such a wanderer from God and Heaven, that " the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin ;" if I should not sound in his ears the gracious invitation, and the gracious encouragement, " Come, for all things are now ready." Stop, profligate youth, and retrace the steps you have taken in the path to death. Exchange the polluted, gro- velling pleasures you are pursuing, for the pure and ele- vated joys of a life of piety. Come and accept the provi- sion which the gospel offers ; and " though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow ;" though your K 110 name may have stood first on the list of contemners of God, it shall be transferred to a place in the Lamb's book of life. To the mere moral youth, this invitation is also ad- dressed. In the providence of God, you have been pre- served from casting off the restraints of a religious educa- tion ; and have neither been entangled by the arts of skepticism, nor allured into the haunts of profligacy. Ycu have always maintained a decent respect for divine institutions ; and have chosen to be regarded, and actually have been, a well-wisher to the general interests of reli- gion. But farther than this you have never advanced ; and for some reason or other, you seem as well satisfied with your present condition, as if you had actually entered in at the straight gate, and had even made your calling and election sure. It may be that you are building a fabric of self-righteousness, which looks beautiful to you, and which you imagine will attract the complacent re- gards of God. Believe me, you are yielding to delusion ; and I call upon you to abandon the delusion, and to come without delay to the fountain of salvation which is opened in the gospel. A life of mere morality may indeed sub- serve the social interests of man in this life ; but it can never confer the consolations of a good hope through grace : it can never cause you to understand the joy of dwelling in the secret place of the Most High : it can never furnish a staff to the soul in its passage through the dark valley : it can never bring in its train an inheritance that is incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away. While, therefore, you place a proper estimate upon it, as it stands connected with the interests of the present world, dare not, for a moment, to rest upon it, as a foundation of acceptance with God. Come and exercise a living faith in the great Redeemer ; and the morality which is the fruit of that faith, though it can never con- stitute the ground of your acceptance, may constitute the evidence of it. Come without delay ; come now in the Ill morning of life, else you may soon have formed a con- firmed habit of self-righteousness ; and such a habit once formed, is less likely than almost any other to be broken up ; and unless it is broken up, it will as effectually and as certainly destroy you as infidelity or immorality. The baptized youth also has a special interest in this invitation. Your parents, while you were yet incapable of acting for yourselves, dedicated you to God in holy baptism ; and entered into a solemn covenant with him, to train you up for his service and glory. We trust they have redeemed the baptismal pledge, and that by their instructions, and example, and prayers, they have done their utmost to turn your feet into the path to heaven. But know, my young friends, that though you were not active in the solemn transaction in which you were devoted to God, you had a material interest in it, notwithstanding ; and this act of your parents, performed in obedience to God's command, has imposed upon you a weighty obligation, now that you are capable of acting for yourselves, to bring to his service the full vigor of your faculties and affections. Come then, ye children and youth, who, at these altars of God, have received the seal of his gracious covenant ; ye who have been dandled on the knee of piety, and counselled by the lips of fond affection, and instructed in respect to your dan- ger and duty, and in whose behalf a thousand parental prayers have gone up into the ear of mercy — is there nothing in all this to constrain your hearts to accept the gracious invitation of the gospel ? Is there nothing in the thought that you are the children of the church, that you have been born and nurtured in her bosom, and per- mitted to enjoy so many of her privileges, that comes to you as a rebuke for not having yet received Christ as your Saviour, and publicly recognized your obligations to his love ? Delay no longer to accept the blessings of salvation ; for though there is nothing in the fact of your having been dedicated to God, which can furnish the 112 shadow of a ground of your acceptance with him, there is that in it which mightily increases your obligation, and which, if you perish i will mightily enhance your con- demnation. The other inquiry to which I proposed to direct your attention under this article, is, 2. From whom does this invitation come 1 It comes from the church on earth. It is the most ardent wish of God's people, and especially of your christian friends, that you should enter without delay on a life of religion. They follow you into the world with an eye of watchful and tender regard ; and when you think not of it, they are often sending up prayers for you in secret, that you may be found in the way of God's commandments. When your pious parents see you im- mersed in worldly vanities, asking no questions with so much interest as u how you shall decorate your persons, or how you shall recommend yourselves most to the gay and worldly," their hearts often sink within them ; and especially, if they are about to depart into eternity, and leave you with such dispositions, it adds a bitter pang to the scene of separation ; and they wish to cling to life yet a little longer, that they may offer a few more prayers, and use a few more exertions, for the everlasting inte- rests of their children. And not only your parents and other pious friends, but the church among whom your lot is cast, are, as a body, interested for your conversion, and are anxiously waiting to see you come out from an ungodly world, and subscribe with your own hand to the Lord. They tell you that there is room enough within their sacred enclosure for all of you, and for as many as will enter ; and they stand ready to greet you with a joyful welcome at the table of communion, and to take you by the hand, as fellow-travellers on the way to heaven. Yes, and others whom you have never seen, even the people of God who dwell in distant lands, and in the islands of the sea — the whole church militant, 113 may be considered as sending you an invitation, to join their community and partake of their joys. From the redeemed in glory, the same invitation comes to you. They know what it is to have been sinners, and what it is to have been saved ; and the benevolence of their glorified nature leads them to regard with intense interest, the salvation of sinners on earth. And is it not reasonable to suppose that this is especially true in re- spect to those with whom they have here been associated in the endearing relations of life ? Every one of the innumerable throng of the redeemed calls upon you to come ; but there are those in that blessed assembly, who call with peculiar affection and earnestness, and who plead with you by the remembrance of other days, who would raise the loudest note of thanksgiving on your re- turn to God, and would be the first to greet you on your arrival in heaven. Is there no child in this assembly, who once had a mother who counselled him, and in- structed him, and prayed for him, and finally died, leav- ing him asleep over the interests of his soul ? That mother, we doubt not, is, at this moment, a glorified spi- rit, and is casting her crown at the Redeemer's feet, mingling in the hosannas and hallelujahs of heaven. But think you that she has forgotten her child, because she has reached her destined home ? My young friend, whoever you are, that glorified parent remembers you still ; and from the third heaven, bids you form and ex- ecute the purpose of giving your heart to God ; and in- vites you to prepare to mingle with her in the glories to which she has already been admitted. I am aware that this is a subject on which it becomes us to speak with caution, because we know but little ; but I am sure it is comformable to the dictates of reason, and according to the analogy of experience, and certainly not contrary to the spirit of God's word, that the news of such a con- version as I have supposed, would, in some way or other, be conveyed to heaven, and would cause the K2 114 grateful exclamation to burst from the lips of that glo- rified parent, " This my child who was dead, is alive again ; who was lost, is found ; who seemed ripe for the employments of hell, is destined to sit on one of these thrones of glory for ever and ever." The angels of light echo the same invitation. Our Saviour has taught us explicitly, that there is joy among the angels, when one sinner repenteth : of course, they desire that there may be occasions for this joy. They do not indeed know by experience the misery of being sinners : they have never felt the burden of pollu- tion, the agony of remorse, the fearful apprehension of God's eternal wrath : but still they are not ignorant of the degradation and ruin that sin brings in its train ; and they earnestly desire to see the heir of hell changed into the heir of heaven ; not only because this change secures to the sinner everlasting life, but because it reflects a new lustre on Christ's mediation, and brings a revenue of glory to God in the highest. They are ministering spi- rits to the righteous ; and they offer themselves, on con- dition of your repentance, to be ministering spirits to you ; to watch over you in danger, to succor you in temptation, to stand by you in death, and to conduct you to glory. Yes, unworthy as you are, ignorant, guilty, polluted as you are, the angels do not regard you as be- neath their notice : they bid you arise and come away from these polluted joys, and dress yourself in the robes of the Redeemer's righteousness, that you may be found worthy at last to join their communion. And above all, Jehovah himself sends you this invi- tation — the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Against the Father of all mercies, your conduct hither- to has been a course of the most inexcusable rebellion. Nevertheless, he waits to be gracious ; and he declares himself ready to forgive all your iniquities, and to sanc- tify you from all your pollution. He beholds you at a distance, wandering, prodigal children, and in the fulness 115 of his compassion, bids you return to your Father's house, and opens the store-house of his everlasting bounty, to allure you away from the husks of worldly vanity and pleasure. He declares himself ready, on your return, to adopt you as his children ; to confer up- on you the spirit and the privileges of children ; and as a proof of his sincerity, he points you to the cross on which the blessings of redemption were purchased, and solemnly asks, whether he w T ho spared not his own Son, but gave him to die for your sakes, shall not with him also, provided you receive him as your Saviour, freely give you all things ? And is it so, that the great God, from the throne of his glory, condescends to expostulate with you to accept of his salvation ? Who of you will dare to trifle with such amazing condescension, by de- laying your acceptance of it for a single hour ? Jesus Christ , the Saviour of the lost, also invites you. The invitation in the text was originally uttered by him ; and it was left on record for your benefit and acceptance. It is echoed from the manger in which he was born ; from the scenes of poverty and suffering in which he had not w T here to lay his head ; from the garden in which he endured his agony ; from the cross on which he yielded up his life ; from the tomb in which his body was laid ; and it is echoed still, amid the intercessions which he presents in behalf of his people before the throne of the eternal Majesty. Yes, my young friends, it is not only the suffering and dying, but the glorified and reigning Saviour, who sends you this invitation : by his bloody baptism on the one hand, and by the glories of his exaltation on the other, he condescends to plead with you to attend to your immortal interests. I bring you the invitation in his name ; and if you turn away from it with cold and scornful indifference, I ask you " what evil hath He done," that he should receive such treatment at your hand; and I ask again, "how" will you " escape, if you neglect so great salvation ?" 116 From the Spirit of grace, also, this invitation comes to you. Open your bible, and wherever you find the invitation recorded, it is the Spirit of God that speaks in it. And it is the same divine agent, communicating the same gracious invitation, in the dispensations of provi- dence, in scenes of affliction, in the operations of con- science, and under the preaching of the word. Recur, for a moment, my young friend, to your past experience. When you stood by the grave of your father, or mo- ther, or some other near friend, and felt your heart throb at the reflection that that friend would slumber on in that dark abode for ages, did not something whisper in your ear a lesson concerning the uncertainty of the world, and the importance of religion ? Believe me, in that dispensation, the Spirit was inviting you to become a partaker of heavenly joys. When sickness had withered your energies, and death seemed to stare you in the face, and you thought with horror of the world of retribution, did not the fearful question come up with an interest of which you had never before conceived — * u What shall a man give in exchange for his soul ?" I tell you, there again, the Spirit of God was admonishing you to take off your affections from this shadowy world, and seek su- perior bliss ? When the truth of God has been pro- claimed in your hearing with pungency and power, has it not sometimes come home to your heart with strong impression, and made the interests of eternity appear, for a moment, to be all in all ? That moment, rely on it, the Holy Spirit was saying unto you, u Come, for all things are now ready." And how has this invitation, conveyed to you through these various channels, been treated ? Ah, I appeal to you, whether, when you had put off' the weeds of mourning with which the death of your friend had covered you, you did not forget the monitory call to which perhaps you thought you would attend : or whether, when you were raised up from the bed of sickness, you did not leave all your serious impressions 117 behind you, and come rushing back upon the vanities and gayeties of life : or whether, when you passed out at yonder door, after being affected by some melting exhi- bition of divine truth, you did not fall into some trifling conversation with some gay companion, and thus put your conscience into as profound a slumber as ever ? In either of these cases, my young friend, you turned a deaf ear, you absolutely rejected the Spirit's invitation. I charge you, as you value your immortal soul, never to repeat the fearful experiment. Behold then, who they are that are interested for your salvation, and are urging you to secure it ! The church on earth, and the church in heaven ; the angels of light, and God over all blessed for ever ; unitedly send you an invitation this day, to come and take the waters of life freely. If you refuse and finally perish, wonder not if you should hereafter hear them unitedly shouting " Hal- lelujah," as the smoke of your torment ascendeth up for ever and ever ! i LECTURE VIII. EXCUSES FOR THE NEGLECT OF RELIGION LUKE XIV, HEE, HAVE 3IE EXCUSED The great principles of human nature, though modi- fied in their operation by circumstances, are substantially the same in all ages. Hence there is a considerable de- gree of uniformity in the manner in which the gospel is treated, at different periods, and by all classes. When the invitation was sent abroad by the man who had made a feast, instead of being cordially and thankfully accepted, the servants returned, charged with the most flimsy and foolish apologies. When the apostles went forth and preached the gospel to. the Jewish nation, here again there were reasons, or rather excuses, offered for not accepting it ; and they were even more preposterous than those by which they were represented in the pa- rable. And so too when the servants of the Lord Jesus, at the present day, go forth proclaiming a universal invi- tation to the gospel feast, and tell sinners of the rich pro- vision made for them, and of the expense at which it has been made, Oh how often are they virtually an- swered in the language which you have just heard — " I pray thee, have me excused." Lend me your attention then, my young friends, while, from this passage, I en- deavor to show you how perfectly futile are the excuses 120 with which, from time to time, you are putting off the claims of religion. I am aware that most of the ex- cuses which I shall notice are urged by others as well as youth ; but while I would commend the subject to the serious consideration of all, I desire that you especially would ponder it with earnest attention and self-application. What then, my young friends, are some of the ex- cuses, by which you are attempting to keep conscience quiet in the neglect of religion ? 1. The first which I shall notice is, that it is impos- sible, amidst all the conflicting opinions which exist on the subject of religion, to ascertain what religion is ; and hence it is inferred that they are the most prudent, who trouble themselves with it the least. That there are different opinions in respect to religion, admits not of question : the world is full of contradic- tory speculations on this subject ; and some of the gross- est absurdities which the human mind ever conceived, have been found in systems of doctrine professedly de- rived from the word of God. If indeed you were re- quired to frame a system of truth for yourelf , out of ma- terials supplied by the various systems of religion in the world, without recourse to higher authority, you might well complain that it was an unreasonable and embar- rassing requisition ; and that your best efforts to come at the truth must result in nothing better than conjecture. But no such task is imposed upon you. You have ac- cess to the very fountain of divine knowledge : you are not only permitted, but required, to search the scriptures for yourself, using the writings of uninspired men only as helps to enable you to ascertain the mind of the Spi- rit. And you cannot plead as an apology for neglecting to search the scriptures, that there is any lack of expli- citness in respect to the great truths which they reveal ; for the Bible was designed equally for all ; and of course for the poor and illiterate, who constitute a large part of 4 121 mankind ; and to suppose that its leading doctrines are hid under a mass of obscure and technical phraseology, were to charge the adorable Author of this revelation with trifling w^ith the wants of his creatures. What then, my young friend, becomes of your excuse for neg- lecting religion, that you cannot ascertain what religion is ? Open your Bible, and you will there find what it is, written in letters of light — all its great doctrines and pre- cepts so perfectly intelligible, that the most simple and unlettered need not mistake them. But suppose we admit that there are some things in the Bible which are hard to be understood — and to a cer- tain extent no doubt this is true — but is this a reason why you should reject or disregard ichat is plain ? Does the fact that you may not easily comprehend all the rea- sonings of Paul on the doctrine of justification, or all the allusions of the inspired writers to the then existing state of things, furnish any apology for your neglecting those plain precepts which require you to repent of your sins, and exercise faith in the atonement of Christ ? Be- fore you plead the obscurity of the Bible as a ground for neglecting religion, you must, to be consistent, show yourself ready to receive the truths which you cannot but acknowledge are clearly revealed ; and ready to prac- tise the duties which you cannot fail to perceive are ex- plicitly enjoined. Say not then any longer, my young friend, that you do not know what religion is. If you do not know, rely on it, it is your own fault. In giving you the revelation of his Son, God has not been mocking your necessities, by saying one thing, and meaning another. Will such an excuse as this stand the test of the final day ? Is there one among you, who would not shudder at the thought of standing before the omniscient Judge with such an apology ? L 122 2. Youth often excuse themselves for the neglect of religion, on the ground that it is gloomy ; — that it throws a damp on all the joys of life. This certainly is a very serious charge, and deserves to be particularly examined. Suppose, however, that this representation were just, I would still maintain that it did not amount even to the semblance of an apology for neglecting religion ; for it is never to be forgotten that it is religion, and that only, that saves the soul from eternal death, and secures to it everlasting life and glory. What then though religion were that chilling and comfortless thing which its ene- mies would sometimes represent it ; what though it did require us to sacrifice all the enjoyments of social life, or even to undergo the most painful penance — the severest lacerations that nature can bear ; what would all this be, compared with the loss of the immortal soul ; — the tor- tures of the never-dying worm ; — the ceaseless convul- sions of the second death ? I say then, that let religion require of us whatever present sacrifices it might, that man would be a fool who would not rather make them than expose himself to the agonies of perdition : for in the one case, the poor and pitiful pleasures of a moment, would be succeeded by scenes of undying an- guish and despair : in the other, the privations and suf- ferings of this short life would be followed by everlast- ing ages of glory. Admitting this charge, therefore, which you bring against religion, in its full extent, we maintain that your conduct in neglecting it, is, on prin- ciples of reason, utterly indefensible. But let us see whether there be any validity in this charge ; whether it can be sustained either on the ground of reason, or on the ground of experience. I admit indeed that the process preparatory to the si?i- ner^s conversion is often a very painful one, and is always accompanied by serious reflection and deep anxiety : for it were impossible that a soul should wake to its condi- tion as lost, and exposed to the wrath of God, and re- 123 main unaffected by the woes of that condition. But this, though indispensable as a preparative for becoming religious, is not religion itself ; and it were not more ab- surd to talk against the blessing of health, because the sick man must submit to some unpleasant prescriptions in order to regain it, than to condemn religion as gloomy, because you cannot partake its joys till you have felt the burden of conviction, and drank of the bitter waters of repentance. Moreover, I am willing to admit that there are some gloomy christians ; — persons who really have the love of God in their hearts, who are yet subject through life to a deep and settled melancholy. But this, instead of proving that religion is the parent of gloom, only proves either that some of the truths of religion are misapprehended, and thus perverted to minister to a gloomy habit, or else that the principle of religion is too feeble in its operations to counteract the various causes which may produce this effect. Nothing can be more unjust than to make reli- gion answerable for the existence of evils, which, on ac- count of the limited influence it has gained over the heart, it does not remove. Moreover, it admits of no question, that what is called religious depression is often to be referred to constitutional temperament, and the ope- ration of other physical causes. So far as religion is concerned with it at all, it may safety be said that it is not religion, but the want of it, which operates to pro- duce this effect. In speaking of the delightful influence which religion is fitted to exert on the heart, I am aware that we labor under one disadvantage : it is, that we are supposed to be speaking to persons who are not only strangers to the joys of religion, but who actually have no relish for them. But if I mistake not, even such persons, if they would examine the gospel impartially, would find in it no tendency to a spirit of gloom. The gospel does in- deed announce to man his ruined and wretched state ; 124 but then it does nothing towards bringing him into that state, but on the contrary, it makes provision to bring him out of it. It cannot be denied that it speaks to the impenitent sinner the language of terror ; but its practi- cal tendency is to be estimated by its effect on those who do, and not upon those who do not, yield their hearts to its influence. And now let me ask you, what there is in it which is adapted to diffuse gloom over a sanctified soul? Is there anything in the character of God — in his wisdom, goodness, mercy, or holiness, which is fitted to damp the christian's joys r Is there any thing gloomy in the thought that wherever he may be, he is surrounded by Jehovah's watchful care ; and that even the most ap- parently untoward dispensations will finally redound to his greatest benefit ? Is the glorious work of redemp- tion by Christ — that work in which all the amiable and venerable attributes of the Godhead shine forth with transcendent lustre, fitted to shed mildew on the best comforts of the soul ? Is there the semblance of gloom in the precious promises of the gospel ; — in the promise that Jehovah will guide the christian by his counsel ; that he will sustain him in the valley of death ; and finally be his everlasting portion ? If these and other kindred subjects are not fitted to dispel gloom, and in- spire the soul with serenity and cheerfulness, I ask what subjects are adapted to produce this effect ? The gospel then is not calculated to make men gloomy— how is it in experience. I speak not here of those who merely bear the name of christians, but of those in whom religion is a living, acting, reigning principle ; and of such I venture to say, that they are more consistently and uniformly cheerful than any other class. I do not mean that you will find them throwing themselves into the current of worldly levities ; but I mean, that in all the various circumstances of life, you may see in them a dignified cheerfulness, equally remote from an unsocial austerity, or forbidding 125 gloom, on the one hand, and from a spirit of gay frivo- lity, on the other. Place such a person in the humble walks of life, and if you please, let the night clouds of adversity gather around him, and let him see one friend after another carried to the grave, and one fountain of earthly comfort after another dried up, till, to the eye of sense, his last hold of earthly enjoyment seems to be broken ; and tell me whether you can imagine that peace and even joy can find its way into such a scene as this I tell } T ou, my young friend, that that christian is not be- reft of consolation, though he may be bereft of every thing else : amidst all this desolation without, there is a peace that passeth understanding within : there is a holy confidence in God, a hope sure and stedfast, which is an anchor to the soul amidst all the storms of trouble that beat upon it. I speak not here, blessed be God, of rare occurrences ; and I doubt not that some such cases as that which I have supposed, may have come under your observation ; that you may have seen christian faith rising and triumphing under a weight of calamity which seemed to you absolutely insupportable. Surely, then, if religion is gloomy, she imparts no such influence in the day of adversity. She has, at least, one bright side ; one friendly, helping hand, to wipe away the tears from the eye of the mourner, and to carry consolation to the heart, whose sorrows the world is utterly powerless to assuage. But there is another and still darker scene through which we must all pass, in which religion is, by no means, an idle attendant. It is in that hour when all the poor helps that nature can yield us, are failing, and the soul that has not God for its refuge, is put upon its own naked resources, that religion most triumphantly refutes the charge of being gloomy. Did you ever, my young friend, see a christian dying in the exercise of a strong and elevated faith ? Then I venture to say, you do not in your heart believe this charge against religion, which L2 4 ?JF r '" 126 I am considering. Draw nigh, ye incredulous ones, who have been accustomed to regard Christianity as only the damper of human joy ; — draw nigh to that scene of mingled agony and triumph, in which a disciple of Jesus is taking his departure for the eternal world ? What now is the world any longer to him ? And what can it do for him, in this hour of his extremity ? Nothing. The chill damps of death are already upon his counte- nance ; and the sinking, fluttering pulse proclaims that the conflict with the destroyer has begun. Friends may weep and break their hearts around his dying bed ; though even they can do nothing to enable him to retain his hold on life a single hour. But amidst all the complicated natural horrors of the death scene, you may see that christian fearless and joyful. You may behold a linger- ing smile of triumph on the countenance over which the icy hand of the king of terrors is passing ; and perhaps you may hear the praises of redeeming love — the ho- sannas of an almost disenthralled spirit, trembling on the tongue which, a few moments hence, will be motionless in death. iVnd will you say, after all this, that religion is the parent of gloom ? Go then to the dying bed of the sinner, and contrast what you have just seen with what you will there see : go and mark the phrenzied look, and listen to the frantic exclamation, and measure, if you can, the woes that are clustering on that departing spirit ; and then say, if it is a gloomy thing to die with religion, what is it to die without it ? Thus I have endeavored to expose the fallacy of the plea that religion is gloomy, by showing that, if the charge were true, it would amount to no apology for the neglect of it ; because it is this alone which secures our eternal happiness : but that, so far from being gloomy, it is in itself essentially a system of consolation ; and that all experience proves that it yields support which can be derived from no other source, and in circumstances in which every thing else is completely unavailing. 127 And has not enough been said under this article to remove the delusion, if it has existed in any of your minds, that religion is too grave a concern for the buoyant spirits of youth ; that though old age, or even manhood, may reasonably enough be brought under its claims, yet the young have a fair right to be exempted. Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing in religion that renders it unsuitable to your period of life. Its tendency is, not to repress the ardor of youth, but to give a right direction to it ; not to dry up the sources of youthful enjoyment, but to enlarge and purify them. If you are told that, in be- coming religious, you must yield yourself a victim to melancholy, believe not the slander for a moment. Be assured, on the other hand, that the "ways' 3 of piety u are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace." 3. Another excuse which youth, in common with others, often plead for the neglect of religion, is drawn from the infirmities and failings of professed christians. These are often triumphantly pointed at as evidence that religion does not make men the better, and as an argument for treating it with indifference, if not with. contempt. But admit the fact that many who profess religion apostatize, and many others, in various ways, dishonor a christian professon, and all discover remains of moral cor- ruption — Before you can use this as an argument to dis- prove the truth of the gospel, you must he able to show that the gospel has either expressly, or by implication, declared that all who profess their faith in it are sincere christians ; in other words, that there is no such charac- ter as a hypocrite. But the gospel has made no such declaration : on the contrary, it was the master's own prediction that the tares and the wheat should be found together ; and it is agreeable to the uniform tenor of the gospel, that christians in the present life are sanctified but in part. The alleged fact, then, of the imperfections of professed christians, instead of being an argument against 128 the truth of our religion, furnishes strong presumptive evidence in its favor ; because it exactly verifies the de- clarations which the gospel has made in respect to the character of its professors. But this notion which I am endeavoring to expose, is as much at war with common sense, as with scripture. Is it rational to infer from the fact that there was a Judas in the family of our Lord, that the disciples were all no- thing better than a band of traitors ? Or because there are professors of religion, at the present day, who prove themselves hypocrites, are we hence to infer that there are none in whom religion has its genuine operation ? Or that the gospel itself is only a miserable forgery ? What would you say of that kind of reasoning which should infer that the science of medicine or law was only a piece of imposture, from the fact that some men professing a knowledge of it were quacks or deceivers ; or which should make every individual in the profession responsible for the ignorance or mismanagement of a few of its mem- bers ? The truth is, that common sense decides that the character of each professed christian is to be judged inde- pendently of every other ; and that the character of the gospel is to be estimated by its practical tendency. Ex- amine the gospel, then, and see whether it does not con- demn sin in every form, and in every class ; and in no class more explicitly than in those who profess to be the followers of Christ : and in view of this fact, say whether the imputation which I am considering is not a foul slander on our holy religion. And what, after all, is the amount of the fact alleged in this charge against religion ? It is only that some of its professors dishonor the christian name ; while it virtually admits (and certainly the most unblushing malice against the gospel cannot deny) that a considerable proportion of them adorn their profession by a holy life. And if the instances of apostacy, or lamentable declension, which occur among professing christians, "prove that religion is 129 all a cheat, I ask, what, on the other hand, is proved by the fact that so large a number persevere, and exhibit, to the close of life, a holy conversation and deportment ? The truth is, that the former of these facts proves nothing against religion in any way ; for it is not to religion, but to the absence of it, that it is to be referred : whereas the latter furnishes decisive evidence that religion does exert a benign and controlling influence over the heart and life. Say now, my young friend, will you dare to plead this apology for the neglect of religion any longer ? Is it not a reflection upon your reason that you should have ever ventured to plead it all ? That there are false professors we admit ; but your situation as a sinner is just as alarm- ing, as if there were not a false professor on earth. They indeed will suffer a tremendous doom : but whatever that may be, certain it is that the Bible denounces tribulation and anguish upon you ; and if you continue in your pre- sent course, you may find, when it is too late to profit by the discovery, that the time you had spent in cavilling about the imperfections of professors, had been far better employed in mourning over your own sins, and gaining an interest in the great salvation, 4. The plea of inability is also urged to justify the neglect of religion. I would ask the person who urges this plea, in the first place, whether he really believes that he has done every thing toward the work of his renovation, that is in his power ? Have you reflected daily and habitually on your guilt and danger, and stedfastly resisted the temptations of the world, and sought intercourse with God's people, and availed yourself of every means within your power for becoming acquainted with your true condition and cha- racter, and yielding up your heart to God ? And have you persevered in this course up to the present hour ? If your conscience does not tell you that you have actually left nothing undone which it was in your power to do 130 towards the work of your salvation, then you have no right to urge the plea of inability. Nor have you a right, even in that case, to urge it ; for who has told you, if your past efforts have been unavailing, that a persevering repetition of them may not accomplish the great object to which they are directed. If it is ever to be urged with even a semblance of plausibility, it must be in the last moments of your life, after all that has been in your power has been done, and to no purpose. But this plea may be shown to be false in another way. The whole duty of man is summarily comprehended in love to God. But the reason why the sinner does not exercise this love, is not because he is destitute of affec- tions ; for he actually bestows them on objects innumera- ble, and infinitely less deserving of them than God. Nor is it because, in the exercise of these affections, he has not all the powers of a moral agent ; for in all his moral ex- ercises, he is conscious of perfect freedom. He can love the world with intense affection ; and he can roll sin as a sweet morsel under his tongue : but when the most glo- rious being in the universe claims the homage of his heart, he coldly refuses the offering, and shelters himself behind the plea of inability. And what is the obvious construc- tion of this conduct ? Why manifestly this — that he is so bitter an enemy to holiness, and has such a cordial aversion to the character of God, that he cannot be reconciled to him. What would you think if your neighbor should insult you with such an apology for an injury he had done you ? What would you think of the wretch who had burnt down your dwelling, or the assassin who had mur- dered your father, that should enter a court of justice, and plead his innocence on the ground of his malevolence to- wards your family ? And think you that such an apology as this will satisfy the great God for the contempt poured upon his character ? You surely dare not think of carry- ing this excuse to the judgment, unless you have made up your mind to encounter the agonies of perdition. 131 But if this plea were admitted, look at the consequences to which it would lead. If that kind of inability which consists in a simple aversion to the character and service of God, justifies the sinner in opposition to his character, and in declining his service, w r e arrive instantly at the absurd conclusion, that the more a man hates God, the less guilty he is ; and he that hates him with perfect ha- tred, is perfectly innocent. Moreover, this plea is not only false and preposterous, but, in the highest degree, insincere. Could you hear the honest language of the sinner's heart, at the very moment this plea is upon his lips, it would be that he did not believe a word of it. For observe that this plea pro- ceeds upon the supposition that heaven and hell are reali- ties : the plea itself is nothing less than that he who offers it, is exposed every hour to suffer the pangs of the second death ; and yet that by the iron bars of fate, he is pre- vented from making his escape. If your dwelling were on fire, and some wretch had chained you down in such circumstances that you could not escape the devouring element, would you amuse yourself with the awful gran- deur of the scene, or would you be distracted with terror at the anticipated horrors of the death that awaited you ? When we find you frantic with agony while you are offering this plea, we may acknowledge that there is at least some appearance of sincerity ; but till then, wonder not if we regard the plea as merely the suggestion of a spirit of rebellion. But do you inquire whether the work of your salvation is to depend entirely on yourself: and whether the Spirit of God has nothing to do in bringing you to repentance ? I answer, the Spirit has a most important part to perform in this great work ; insomuch that without his agency, it would never be accomplished. But the Spirit, in his operations, contemplates you as active ; and if you remain with your arms folded, waiting for a visit from this divine agent, you may expect to wait till you die, and then die pp 132 in your sins. The way to enlist his renewing influences in your behalf, is to arise, and shake off your sluggishness, and plead mightily with God to have mercy upon you. 5 . The only remaining excuse for the neglect of religion which I shall notice, is, that there is time enough yet. And what is it y my young friend, for which you are so sure that you have time enough remaining ? Is it merely a momentary turning of your thoughts away from the world, or yielding yourself for an hour to the impression of eternal things, or performing a little lip service which you call prayer, or doing the drudgery of a few external duties ? Oh no, it is nothing like this : it is the breaking off right hand sins : it is the mortification of evil affec- tions : it is the yielding up the whole heart to God : it is the consecration of the whole man to his service and glory. And is this a work of so small moment that you can safely put it off to another day, on the ground that there is time enough yet for the performance of it ? Besides, let it not be forgotten that religion lays its de- mands upon all your faculties and affections, through every moment of your existence. Have you time enough then for doing that hereafter which devolves upon you at this moment, when each future moment will bring with it its own appropriate duties ? If all that you can possibly do in the next hour, is demanded of you during that hour, how will you find time then for doing the duties which devolve upon you now ? Perhaps, however, you only mean that there is time enough yet — that is, some more convenient season than the present — for exercising that repentance of sin which is necessary to secure your sal- vation. But there are two things of which you ought to feel absolutely assured, before you make up your mind to defer repentance to any future period. In the first place, in order to justify such a resolution, you must be certain of the continuance of life. You must have gained an assurance 133 that, notwithstanding the arrows of death are thickly flying around you, and every day numbers its victims for the tomb ; yet, amidst all this desolation, your life, for some indefinite period, shall Certainly be preserved. And this you must know on the authority of Him in whose hand your breath is ; for He only who fixes the bounds of our habitation, is competent to assure you of the con- tinuance of life even for a moment. And then again, you must be assured that God will grant you grace to repent, and will accept your repentance at a future day. You must be able to point to some declaration in the Bible, which makes it certain that the Holy Spirit, whose in- fluences you now resist, will hereafter visit your soul again ; and if he should, that you will be more disposed to cherish his influences than you are now. But on both these points, you cannot but know that the evidence is all against you. There is a voice from a thousand graves, admonishing you that you cannot presume on the con- tinuance of life, even till to-morrow ; and there is the practical testimony of many a sinner, whose heart, by procrastination, has become as hard as the nether mill- stone, that in calculating on the future efficacious opera- tions of the Holy Spirit, you have all probability against you. But if you persevere in saying that there is time enough yet, let me ask you to define the particular period which you have allotted to the performance of this work. Is it the period of middle age 1 Look then, I pray you, to the man who has actually reached that period, and judge can- didly whether his advantages for becoming religious are increased beyond what they were in the season of youth. Is there any thing in the pressure of worldly care, in the claims of a rising family, in the numerous and distracting demands upon time, which that period so commonly brings with it, that is favorable to the work of repentance — a work which demands reflection , and self-communion, and abstraction from the world. And if middle age does M 134 not furnish better advantages than youth for becoming religious, let me ask again, is it more likely to bring with it the disposition ? Is it in accordance with the known principles of human nature, that a habit of any kind should grow weaker by being cherished ? Or may not the exact opposite of this be anticipated, with as much confidence as any effect can be looked for from its appropriate cause ? And if experience be consulted, where are the individuals to testify that familiarity with the world has strengthened the resolution or the desire to become religious ? No, my young friends, the difference between the period to which you are looking forward, and that through which you are now passing, is altogether in favor of the latter : If, there- fore, you leave the season of youth strangers to religion, it is more than probable, if your life should be spared, that you will leave the season of manhood with the same character. But possibly when you say that there is time enough yet, you are looking forward to a period still more dis- tant — to the season of old age, I cannot forbear saying, at the outset, that it is only possible that you may live to that period ; the chances, according to the principles of human calculation, being altogether against you. But suppose, by a comparatively rare dispensation, your life should be protracted even to fourscore years, I ask you what there will be in your condition then to facilitate the great work to which I am urging you ? With a mind not improbably broken by age, or paralyzed by disease ; with habits which have been the regular growth of almost a century ; with little of the power, and still less of the disposition, to reflect closely or for a long time upon any subject ; — is there not little probability that the great work of repentance will ever be seriously thought of — still less, earnestly attempted — least of all, actually performed ? I know there is here and there a miracle of mercy wrought in the conversion of an aged sinner ; but when such in- stances occur, they occasion surprise, and every christian 135 is ready to exclaim, u What hath God wrought !" ^ not, my young friend, to stake your immortal interests on such a fearful uncertainty ! But I am not certain that there are none of you, who, in pleading that there is time enough yet, may not be secretly flattering yourselves with the hope of a death-bed repentance. But do you really think that you shall be able to meet and answer the claims which God makes upon you, by the convulsive efforts of your last hour ? Who then has told you that, after you have spent a life of rebellion against God, he will grant you grace to repent, w^hile the last moments of your probation are on the wing ? Or wiiere has God promised that he will listen to tha* cry for mercy which is prompted by the terrors of an opening retribution ? Or how do you know that you may not, like multitudes o£ others, die in a state of spiritual insensibility, being actually abandoned of God to a re- probate mind ? Or what evidence have you that your last sickness may not be the sickness of a moment, and your passage into eternity in the twinkling of an eye ? Or if it should be protracted, who can tell but that you may be given up to. the w T ild horrors of delirium, and be utterly insensible to your condition, until death has ac- tually done its work ? I say nothing in respect to par- ticular instances of death-bed repentance ; but in general, there is every thing to show that little or no dependence is to be placed upon them- Oh beware how you defer the concerns of religion till your closing hour ! What then, my young friends, is the great practical inference from all that has been said under this article, and from the general tenor of this discourse ? It is this : u Behold now" — now in the days of your youth — a is the accepted time." We have examined the apologies with which you are prone to put off religion, and have shown you that they amount to nothing. Dismiss not, I entreat 136 , the practical contemplation of this subject, till the effect of it has been to make you realize that there is no time to be* lost in securing your immortal interests ; to prepare you to ask with agonizing earnestness, the mo- mentous question, " What must I do to be saved ?" LECTURE IX. AWAKING TO RELIGION. ACTS XVI. 30. WHAT MUST I DO TO BE SAVED? The circumstances which led to this momentous in- quiry, were deeply interesting. Paul and Silas had gone into Macedonia, preaching the gospel ; and having come to Philippi, they were arrested by the magistrates of the city, scourged, and thrown into a dungeon. The jailer having received a strict charge to keep them safely, thrust them into the inner prison, and made their feet fast in the stocks. It is one of the glories of the gospel that it does not restrict its blessings to any condition in life ; that its richest consolations may be enjoyed as well in a dungeon as in a palace : and hence we find that the blessed Sa- viour appeared marvellously for these persecuted men. That they would be engaged in prayer, it were natural to expect ; but the walls of their prison are made to echo not only to the voice of prayer, but of praise ; for we are expressly informed that " they sang praises to God.'' At this moment there was a great earthquake which shook the prison, so that the doors were thrown open, and the keeper awoke in the utmost consternation. Supposing the prisoners to have escaped, which would have been at the forfeiture of his life, he drew his sword, and was nearly in the act of destroying himself, when Paul — the same M2 1 "Jt^*^ 138 Paul whom he had just before confined in a dungeon — with much of his master's benevolence, cries out, " Do thyself no harm, for we are all here." " Then he called for a light, and sprang in, and came trembling, and fell down before Paul and Silas, and brought them out, and said, Sirs, what must I do to be saved ?" It is not easy, nor, for my present purpose, important, to determine, whether the jailer had ever heard the gospel before this time ; whether any conversation had previous- ly taken place between him and the apostles, which ori- ginated these convictions ; or whether the light which he received, was directly communicated at the time by the Holy Spirit : It is sufficient for. us to know that he really became an anxious inquirer on the subject of his salvation. It will occur to you, my young friends, that the pre- ceding discourse was occupied with an examination of some of the excuses, with which youth are prone to put off the claims of religion. I would fain hope that there are those among you, who have become satisfied of the worthlessness of these excuses, and have resolved never more to plead one of them — not even at the bar of con- science. Nay more, I would indulge the hope that you have not only given up your apologies, but that you have become impressed with the importance of your soul's salvation ; insomuch that when you heard the text an- nounced, your heart instantly responded to the sentiment contained in it, as one in which you have the deepest personal interest. In the hope which I have now ex- pressed, it is my purpose, in the present discourse, to inquire into the meaning of this momentous question, with a view to place distinctly before you that state of mind commonly called conviction of sin ; that you may be assisted, on the one hand, to decide upon the character of your religious impressions, and on the other, to gain such a view of your condition as shall be necessary to lead you to escape from the wrath to come^ '^ 139 What then is the import of the question contained in the text — " What must I do to be saved ?" I. I observe, first, it is the language of deep feeling. There are comparatively few in christian communities, who are not ready to give a general assent to the truth of the gospel ; and far the larger part, at least, among our- selves, will not hesitate to avow their belief of the most humbling of its doctrines. Of the deep depravity of man, and of their own personal guilt and pollution, they will profess not to entertain a doubt ; and yet the practical influence of this belief is absolutely nothing. With an avowed conviction that they are constantly exposed to the miseries of the second death, they go their way, one to his farm, and another to his merchandize ; and yield themselves up to the cares or the follies of the world, apparently with as much avidity, and as little apprehen- sion, as if there were no heaven to be gained or lost. Nay, there are those who not only profess to believe the truths of which I have spoken, but in words contend earnestly for their importance, in whose hearts they have never produced a throb of anxiety, and over whose path they have never cast a shade of gloom. The truth is, that their belief of them is merely speculative. There is nothing in it to rouse, or agitate, or subdue the soul. In spite of it, the sinner may slumber even on the borders of the world of despair. Far different is the spirit which prompted the inquiry in the text, and which discovers itself in the exercises of every convinced sinner. There is here not only the as- sent of the understanding, but the feeling of the heart. The sinner not only speculatively believes his guilt and danger, but practically realizes it. In the one case, the truths which he believes, are like objects seen in the mist, or by twilight : in the other, they resemble objects viewed in the brightness of noon-day. In the one case, it is as if you were to contemplate some temporal calamity, of 140 which you regarded yourself in little or no danger : in the other, it is as if you were to contemplate the same calamity, while you were actually sinking under its power. I have said that the question in the text indicates deep feeling ; but I do not mean that it is, in all cases, alike. With some, it is little more than settled seriousness ; with others, it is strong anxiety ; and with others still, it is unmixed agony. This variety of experience may be referred to a difference in the original constitution of the mind ; or in the previous moral habits ; or in the in- struction which is communicated ; or many other circum- stances, which may, or may not, fall within our observa- tion. But in every case, the truth is felt, not merely assented to : it seizes hold of the active principles of the soul, and is not kept locked up in the intellect. II. This is the language of strong self-condemnation. The process by which the sinner becomes impressed with a sense of his guilt, originates in the new view which he gains of the divine law. Hitherto, his views of that law have been loose and vague : he has practically re- garded it as taking cognizance only of the external act ; and not improbably has flattered himself that, if he were decent in his outward deportment, he should thereby yield an obedience to the law which might be accepted as a ground of his justification. But under the enlightening influence of the Holy Spirit, his mistakes on this subject are all corrected ; and the law of God, instead of being regarded as little more than a dead letter, is felt, like the Omniscient eye, to be a Searcher of the heart ; and like the Almighty hand, to operate with a resistless energy. It is seen, moreover, to be altogether worthy of its author ; perfectly reasonable and just in its requisitions ; an ad- mirable transcript of the moral perfections of God. Now you easily see how this new view of the divine law operates to produce conviction of guilt. If the law 141 has its foundation in everlasting righteousness, and is perfectly holy, just, and good ; if it is that which binds together the moral kingdom of Jehovah, and is an exact expression of his will in respect to all his intelligent crea- tures, then how evil and bitter a thing must sin be, which is the violation of this law : how deserving of God's supreme abhorrence must be that evil, which pours con- tempt upon his character, and insolently tramples upon his authority ! It is in view of the moral excellence of the law, then, that the sinner discovers and estimates the inherent odiousness of sin : but in estimating his own personal guilt, he more especially takes into view the extent of its requisitions ; considering it as designed to control the inner man of the heart ; as extending to every thought, and purpose, and motive, and desire, through every period of man's existence. How differently does the sinner now estimate the num- ber of his sins, from what he did before he practically understood the comprehensive import of God's law ! Time has been, it may be, when he scarcely considered himself a sinner at all ; and when, if he had undertaken to reckon with his conscience, he would have thought only of flagrant acts of transgression, and would have estimated the guilt even of them chiefly by their untoward influence upon society. But now he is almost exclusively occupied in calling up sins of the heart ; sins of every day, and hour, and moment ; sins of which the world never took cognizance, and of which, at the time they were committed, he scarcely took cognizance himself. He sees that he has been living in constant rebellion against God ; that he has steadily and perseveringly re- fused a practical acknowledgment of his authority ; and that too against motives of the most tender and affecting import. He charges himself with the blackest ingrati- tude ; for when he looks back upon his past life, he sees that he has been continually led by a most gracious hand, and that blessings have constantly multiplied in his path ; 142 and yet he beholds no monuments of grateful homage ; no Ebenezers on which is inscribed " Hitherto hath the Lord helped me." Perhaps he has been a diligent attendant on the means of grace ; has been regularly at the sanctuary, and it may be has even daily read the scriptures, and sometimes fallen upon his knees, and taken upon his lips the language of devotion ; and in all this, he may have formerly thought that he was doing much to commend himself to the divine favor : but now he sees nothing better in these services, by which he had deceived him- self, and perhaps deceived others also, than the hollow homage of a formalist ; and here, as truly as any where, he reads the sentence of his condemnation. How many complaining reflections does he find himself to have in- dulged against God, because he may have sometimes in mercy blasted his foolish purposes, or withheld from him something which, if it had been bestowed, would have ministered only to his destruction ! How large a part of all the thoughts that he has ever had, does he find, on review, to have been vain and evil ; how many of his words have been idle and frivolous ; how many of his purposes have originated in pride or revenge ; how many of his desires have been polluted and grovelling ; how many actions which to the eye of man may have appeared praiseworthy and even noble, does he now perceive to have been dictated not merely by a spirit of forgetfulness of God, but by a spirit of active rebellion against him. In short, his sins of omission or commission, of heart or life, appear as numerous as the moments of his existence ; and he feels that an effort to recal them all to remem- brance, were as vain as to attempt to count the drops in the ocean. But while the convinced sinner dwells with astonish- ment on the number of his sins, or rather finds them literally innumerable, he is equally overwhelmed by a sense of their aggravation. He perceives that they are not the sins of a heathen, who has never heard of Christ 143 or salvation ; but they have been committed , it may be, in the very brightest sunshine of gospel day. They have been committed, while the Bible, with all its awful warn- ings, and all its gracious invitations, and all its treasures of mercy, has been within his reach ; while the Sabbath has weekly dawned upon him, and the sanctuary has opened its doors for him, and the ministers of Christ have spread before him the provision of the gospel, and have expostulated with him to attend to the things that belong to his peace. They have been committed, moreover, in spite of the kind rebukes and earnest entreaties of pious friendship ; in spite of the remonstrances of his own con- science ; in spite of the strivings of the Holy Spirit ; in spite of all the condescension, the agonies, and the inter- cession of Jesus ; in spite of the proffered glories of heaven, and the threatened woes of perdition. The fact that he has sinned against so much light and love, and that he has persevered in sinning, w r hen there were so many con- siderations to deter him from it, seems to him to stamp upon his guilt a peculiarly aggravated character. And then again, he perceives how perfectly vain and foolish were the excuses with which he had quieted him- self in a sinful course : he is compelled to give them all to the winds, and to feel that he stands before God without the shadow of an apology. Does he Justify his past ne- glect of religion, on the ground that he had no time to attend to it ; or on the ground that, in attending upon the means of grace, he had done all that it was in his power to do ; or on the ground that there would be a future more convenient season ? No such thing. He feels that his sins have been altogether voluntary and causeless, and have exposed him most justly to God's threatened curse. It is a common case that a sinner in these circumstances actually believes himself to be the most guilty of all be- ings, even worse than the reprobate in hell ; for while he can invent apologies for others, he cannot for a moment admit any for himself. He ls not indeed, as some dream- 144 ing speculatists would have it, willing to encounter eternal perdition ; but that he deserves it, is as clear to him as that the light shines around him amidst the brightness of noon-day. He wonders that such a wretch as himself is permitted to breathe the air, or enjoy the light, or walk upon the earth ; and it is difficult for him to believe that his next remove will not be to the prison of despair. I have already intimated that there is, in some respects, a great variety in the experience of convinced sinners, some being far more deeply affected than others. But in every case which issues in conversion, there is not only a general conviction of the evil of sin, but a particular con- viction of personal guilt, and of the justice of the sentence which dooms to God's everlasting displeasure. This conviction may be acquired suddenly, or it may be ac- quired gradually : it may be more or less pungent : but in some form or other, and in some degree or other, it makes part of the experience of every sinner, who is brought to a practical knowledge of the excellence and glory of the gospel. III. This is the language of earnest solicitude. Enough has been said to show that the disclosures which are made to the convinced sinner by the Spirit of God, must render him, in no small degree, unhappy ; and such a state necessarily produces solicitude, both in re- spect to the present and the future. It is natural that the sinner should earnestly desire a deliverance from the bur- den that now oppresses him, and from the appalling doom which conscience bids him anticipate in the next world. If there were nothing more than his present condition concerned, there would be good reason why he should long for a change ; for such a condition is always un- happy, and often wretched beyond our most gloomy con* ceptions. What christian, especially what minister of Christ, has not witnessed cases, in which the sinner in the circumstances which I am supposing, has been stung 145 by remorse, agitated by terror, convulsed by agony, to such a decree, that life itself has seemed a burden ; and the aspect of despair has settled upon the countenance; and even the grave has been longed for, if it might but prove a refuge from the lashes of a guilty conscience. But where the operations of the Spirit assume a milder form, and the impressions of guilt are far less pungent, there is still enough in the sinner's condition to cause him earnestly to desire that he may escape from it. For he feels that while this burden hangs upon his conscience, the world is nothing better to him than a prison, over- spread with darkness, and hung round with despair. But if the sinner is anxious, and with good reason too, to escape from the miseries of his present condition, much more is he desirous to escape from the accumulated woes which await the ungodly in the world of despair. He realizes that there is an awful meaning in the description which the Bible has given of the future and eternal miseries of the lost ; and he ponders the fearful imagery in which those miseries are described, till his heart throbs and sinks with apprehension. Here again, is it strange that he is anxious to escape from this tremendous doom ? Rather, would it not be passing strange, if, with such a view of the danger of his condition, he could fold his arms and lull himself into an indolent security ? It is not always easy for the sinner in the state which I am supposing, to analyze the operations of his own mind. And if it is difficult for him to understand the nature of his emotions, he is still more perplexed to know in what manner he may obtain peace. Often, the most that he can say respecting himself is, that there is an intolerable burden resting upon his conscience ; that he knows not which way to look for relief; that all around him and before him, is impenetrable darkness. And not unfrequently, the burden of his anxiety is that, with such just occasion for distress, he feels so little ; N 146 and while, to all others but himself, he seems to be on the borders of despair, he imagines that he is utterly des- titute of moral sensibility. In these circumstances, he adopts, in many respects, a new course of life. If he has been accustomed to mingle in scenes of levity, he mingles in such scenes no longer. The Bible, and other religious books, which he has been used to treat with entire neglect, he reads with most earnest attention. He rejoices in the opportunity, though he often does it with great diffidence, to unbosom himself to his minister, or some christian friend, and to receive appropriate instruc- tion and counsel. He is often found in the meeting for prayer and religious conference, and still oftener in his closet, pouring out the anguish of his heart before God. You may tell him that a sinner ought not to pray ; but the false direction he will not heed ; for though he feels no confidence that he shall be saved, let him do what he will, yet if he is saved, he is sure that it must be by an act of God's sovereign grace, and that grace he has no reason to expect, if he does not supplicate it. His for- mer careless associates, not improbably, during this pe- riod, look on with amazement, and perhaps treat his se- rious impressions with ridicule ; but what avails all their ridicule with him, so long as his eyes are open to survey the appalling realities of his condition ? Do you ask whether, in all this striving of which I have here spoken, the sinner advances any nearer to the kingdom of God, or to a regenerate state ? I answer, yes, undoubtedly ; though I would guard the answer by an explanation. It is far from being true, that the sinner, by any effort he can make, does any thing in the way of merit towards commending himself to the divine favor ; nor do any of his moral exercises preparatory to renova- tion partake of a holy character: nevertheless, these efforts seem designed, in the economy of God's grace, to prepare him to accept a free salvation ; and though there be nothing of a moral character in the prayers that are 147 offered previous to conversion, which God can regard with approbation, yet there is the natural feeling of dis- tress ; and who can tell but that He who hears the cry of the young ravens, may not listen to the cry of the convinced sinner ? To whatever conclusions men may be conducted on this subject by metaphysical speculation, all experience unites with the word of God in proving that, though the sinner who is only convinced will as certainly perish as any other, yet the convinced sinner is, in an important sense, nearer the kingdom than the care- less sinner ; not because he has a particle of holiness, but because he has exercises which, in the order of nature, are preparatory to a spiritual renovation. If our Lord himself could say of a mere moral man, that he was not far from the kingdom of God, surely we need not hesitate to apply the same language to a sinner trembling under the burden of conviction. I have now laid before you, my young friends, so far as I have judged necessary, the exercises and the condi- tion of a sinner, in what is usually termed a state of conviction. In this situation I must, for the present, leave him. It is natural to infer, 1. In the first place, from the preceding remarks, hoio far you may go y and finally fall short of heaven. Are you, at this moment, an anxious and heavy laden sinner ? Have your iniquities taken hold upon you, so that you are not able to look up ; and are you trembling under the apprehensions of Jehovah's wrath ? Have you for- saken the haunts of levity, and broken away from vain companions, and have you taken up the resolution that you will press forward and enter in at the straight gate ? Believe me, so far as thi^you may go, and even farther, and yet perish in your sins. All this you maybe to-day, and the world may have begun to regain its ascendancy over you to-morrow, and before you are yet scarcely aware of any change, you may find yourself again in the ranks of the gay and careless. Nay, you may continue 148 in this very state till you die ; you may always re- main a serious inquirer for the way to heaven, and may even lie at its very gate, and yet, after all, may never enter in. Wherefore, I entreat you not to rest sa- tisfied in your present condition. It would be to no pur- pose that you should discover that some distressing worldly calamity was hanging over you, unless the dis- covery should lead you to do something to avert it ; nor will it be of any avail that you see yourselves exposed to eternal perdition, unless you actually make haste to escape from the wrath to come. Let the effect of the disclosures already made to you by the Spirit of God, lead you to action ; else you will not only perish, but perish with a doom aggravated by the very fact that you have been the subject of serious convictions. 2. Learn from this subject, that it is a most solemn thing, especially for a young person, to be awakened. It is indeed a solemn thing for any person ; because he is thereby brought under the direct influence of the Spirit of God ; and in the result of the Spirit's operation is probably to be decided the question, whether his immortal soul is to be saved or lost ; whether his path through life is to be cheered by the hopes and consolations of reli- gion, and to terminate amid the bright glories of the up- per world, or whether he is to go laboring through this vale of tears without any substantial support, often dis- gusted, and never satisfied, with what the world has to bestow, and finally to sink down under the withering frown of the Almighty, and be banished from his pre- sence for ever. I say then, that the fearful result which is pending, renders the case of any awakened sinner pe- culiarly solemn ; but the case duty, at all tunes, without an improper regard to consequences. What are some of the elements of which this spirit is composed ? 1. A clear conviction of duty. No man is prepared to act at all, much less with decision, so long as he is at loss where the path of duty lies ; and the certain consequence of being embarrassed on this point, will be, that his ef- forts, at best, will be feeble, inconstant, and inefficient. The very reflection that he is acting without a settled conviction of duty, and still more, the reflection that he may be acting contrary to the will of God, taking it for granted that he is a good man, will be fitted to wound his conscience, and weaken his resolution. Let him then who would possess genuine christian decision, make it his first object to ascertain the path of duty. Let him do this by attentively considering the leadings of God's provi- dence, by faithfully consulting an enlightened conscience, and above all by earnestly looking for divine guidance and teaching. And having once gained a clear and im- pressive conviction of what duty is, he is prepared for resolute and decided action. In most cases in which we are called to act, the path of duty, to an honest and well directed mind, is plain. For instance, when Nebuchadnezzar commanded the three men to worship his idol, there was no cause for a moment's hesitation ; nor did they wish for a moment to enable them to decide that they would not do it. And far the greater part of the cases of duty upon which chris- tians at the present day have to decide, are as clear as that which was presented to the consideration of these men. And where it is otherwise — where there are circumstancs to embarrass us in our inquiries and our decision, this T 218 only constitutes a demand for more earnest consideration and prayer. It may safely be said, that there are few instances in which the christian, after using all the means in his power to ascertain his duty, is still left in the dark respecting it. 2. Another of the elements of christian decision, and that in which it especially consists, is an unyielding pur- pose to act agreeably to our sincere and enlightened con- victions. It is one thing to know what we ought to do, and quite a different thing to do it ; and it is to little pur- pose that we gain the knowledge of our duty, unless we reduce that knowledge to practice. The individuals whose example is exhibited in our text, were not only settled in the conviction that they ought not, but in the purpose that they would not, bow down before the idol ; and the language in which they refused to do it, shows that they were inflexible in their determination. And so it is with every truly decided christian. You may threaten him with the loss of every thing he holds dear on this side heaven ; you may kindle a fiery furnace, and tell him he shall have his portion in it ; you may bring before him the horrors of the prisoner's dungeon, or the martyr's stake, and you will not shake his constancy in the course of duty : there is a holy resolution in his soul, kindled up by the breathing of God's Spirit, which the terrors of death itself cannot appal. 3. Another element of christian decision, is a firm con- fidence in God. This the three men strikingly exhibited in their refusal to yield to the king's impious command. What if they should be thrown into the fiery furnace, which was made ready to receive them ? They had full confidence that their God would preserve them unhurt, even amidst those fearful perils. And if he did not, they knew what their duty was, and that in some way or other God would bless them in the discharge of it : and they doubted not that, if their bodies should be con- sumed in such a cause, they would be abundantly com- 219 pensated for the sacrifice by the glories of eternity. And what they felt and exhibited, was, by no means, peculiar to themselves : every truly decided christian exemplifies the same spirit. If the duty to which he is called is dif- ficult, he confides in God for grace to enable him to dis- charge it. If he is doubtful in respect to consequences, he trusts in God to give them such a direction as will be most for his glory. If he has reason to believe that, in obeying the divine will, he shall involve himself in dis- tressing worldly calamities, here again he confides in God to deliver him out of them in his own best time, or to cause them to work out for him an exceeding and eternal weight of glory. No one accustomed to attempt the discharge of duty in his own strength, ever possessed true christian decision. A nobler principle of action — a con- stant reliance on the Lord our strength, is absolutely necessary to constitute the truly decided christian. II. I proceed, secondly, to consider some of the ad- vantages which christian decision secures. 1. And, first, a decided course is the most safe course. It was so in the case of the three men whose decision is exhibited in our text. There was indeed in that case, to the eye of worldly calculation, the most appalling danger hanging over the path of duty. Nothing appeared but that their lives were in fearful jeopardy, and that they were on the eve of suffering a most agonizing death. The king's anger was excited to fury, and he commanded that the impious order which he had given for their destruction should be executed without delay. Accordingly they were thrown into the fiery furnace which was made ready for them ; and doubtless not the king only, but every one who was present, expected to see them instantly become victims to the flames. And what was the result ? Why that these three men were seen walking in the midst of the furnace unhurt, under the protection of one whose form is said to have been like the Son of God ; and the 220 king rose up in astonishment, and immediately command- ed them to come out of the furnace, acknowledging the power of Jehovah in their preservation. And as it was in that case, so it is substantially in all others — a decided course is the safe course. Not that christians, in ordinary cases, can expect a miraculous interposition in their behalf when they are brought into circumstances of danger ; but God does usually extend to them his special care and protection. If difficulties rise and seem to hedge up their path, they are usually brought out of them in some way which they had not anticipated. And even if their decision leads them to encounter death in the cause of duty, it is the safe course still ; for it is most emphatically true in this case, that " he that loseth his life, shall find it." It is perfectly safe to die in the cause of duty ; but it is unspeakably hazardous to live at the expense of denying Christ. The three men would have been safe, in the most important sense of the word, if the flames had instantly consumed them ; for that reli- gion on account of which they had died, would have been a certain passport to heaven. And so is every christian safe who yields up his life in similar circumstances ; for the crown of martyrdom here, will be exchanged for a crown of glory hereafter. 2. A decided course is the most easy course. I do not intend here to imply that a professing christian may not sometimes, in consequence of his decision, be sub- jected to severe trials ; or, on the other hand, that by a timid and temporizing course, he may not sometimes avoid trials : but I mean that, on the whole, the decided christian will be far less embarrassed in the discharge of duty, than any other. Would Nebuchadnezzar, do you imagine, after having witnessed the decision of these men, and the consequences of it, have been likely to re- peat the experiment which he made, or to have tried any other means to induce them to worship his idol ? Would he not rather have abandoned it as a hopeless case, satis- 221 fied that they were determined to adhere to the worship of Jehovah, and that Jehovah would assuredly preserve and bless them in it? And the same effect, substan- tially, is produced upon the world by every instance of decision in christians. Let the christian, when the world spreads its temptations before him, show himself deter- mined and able to resist them : let him, when solicited by his former careless associates to the haunts of sin, ex- hibit a firmness of opposition, which their cavils, or sneers, or flatteries do not shake ; and let him repeat this in a few instances, and he will probably have occasion to re- peat it no more ; for they will become satisfied that their efforts are unavailing, and will think it best to retire from the conflict. Let him, on the other hand, when he is tempted, show himself half inclined to yield ; let him manifest a disposition to conform to the world so far as he possibly can without sacrificing his christian charac- ter ; let him look with some degree of indulgence on for- bidden pleasures, and often be found amid scenes of thoughtlessness, and you may rest assured that that in- dividual will be perpetually and painfully embarrassed Every instance in which he yields to the claims of the careless and wicked, will encourage them to renew their demands upon him ; and it will be strange if they suffer him to rest, before he has practically disavowed his re- gard for religion, and sunk the character of the christian in that of the worldling. 3. A decided course is the most useful course. This is evident from the fact that many of those deeds which are followed by the most important and permanent benefit to the world, could never be performed without christian decision. Witness, for instance, the conduct of Moses in turning his back upon the rich temporal advantages which were held out to him as the son of Pharaoh's daughter. Nothing but genuine decision could have in- fluenced him to the course which he adopted ; and yet, what immense benefits were derived from his conduct, T2 222 under God, to the Jewish nation and to the world ! And what was true of the consequences of his conduct, has been true, in a greater or less degree, in thousands of other cases. And besides this, the decided christian, by his general character , exerts an influence of the most salutary kind, which is peculiar to himself. All who see him, take knowledge of him that he has been with Je- sus ; and wherever he goes, he leaves an impression in favor of the religion he professes. The undecided professor, on the other hand, is conti- nually making the cause of religion bleed. He may in- deed, when he is in the company of christians alone, ap- pear like a christian: you might even think him zealous and active. But in the presence of the world, he seems as indifferent to religion as the world itself. If any se- vere cross is to be taken up in the path of duty, he has no resolution for such a service. What the influence of such an example, and such a character must be, no one can be at loss to determine. Let the appeal be to facts. Look around you, and tell me whether you really believe that professing chris- tian exerts the happiest influence, w r hose life is a per- petual scene of unwarrantable compliances with the maxims of the world ; who dares never to take a de- cided stand on the side of duty, when duty happens to be the unpopular side ; or whether it is not he who is steadfast and immoveable ; who fearlessly discharges the most difficult duties, and resolutely resists the most powerful temptations ? I know there is not one of you, w r hose conscience must not return an answer in favor of the decided christian. 4. A decided course is the most honorable course. That it actually is so in the view of God, and all holy beings, none can question : for the decided christian faithfully conforms his conduct to God's will, and makes it his unceasing object to promote God's glory, and to advance the interests of his spiritual kingdom. But I 223 venture to go farther, and assert that he is the most ho- norable man in the view of the world ; and even of the most wicked part of it. For wicked men, let it be re- membered, have eyes and ears ; have reason and con- science ; and they know what is right, and what is wrong, as well as others. I do not say indeed that their hearts will relish the decision of the devoted christian ; but I do say that their consciences will approve it : I do say that they will have a secret reverence for such a cha- racter, corresponding to the contempt which they feel towards its opposite : and there are a thousand cases in which they have an opportunity to manifest, and actually do manifest, their preference, in their conduct. If, for instance, the wicked man has any important trust which he wishes to put in charge with one of his fellow-men, to be executed after he is dead, rely on it, he will be far more likely to leave it with the man of unyielding reli- gious principles, than any other person ; thus proving that the contempt with which he might sometimes have ap- peared to regard such a character, was mere affectation ; and that he actually regarded it with respect and veneration. 5. A decided course is the most happy course. It is so, because it is the only course that keeps a man on good terms with his own conscience ; and without an approving conscience, the universe could not make him happy. Just in proportion as a professing christian is undecided, he loses the approbation of his conscience, and of course, in the same* degree, forfeits his enjoyment. Moreover, it is a source of rich enjoyment to the de- cided christian, to see the benefits which result from his decision; the influence which he thereby exerts in building up the cause of Christ. It is a delightful reflec- tion that, in all his efforts, God is glorified in some way or other ; and that he may hope to be instrumental in saving souls from death and hiding a multitude of sins. By maintaining a decided character, the christian also lays a foundation for a peaceful and happy death. He 224 may expect indeed that large measures of peace and com- fort will be granted him from above, during his life : but especially has he a right to expect that this will be rea- lized when flesh and heart are failing. Not that any thing which he has done will be regarded by him, as constituting the least part of the ground of his acceptance : still he will look back, and he will have a right to look back upon his life, with gratitude to that God who has enabled him to stand firm amidst all the temptations to which he has been exposed, and with joy unspeakable, that his imperfect services may be crowned with the be- nedictions of his Lord. It w^as especially this trait of character upon which we have been meditating, which put such rapture and triumph into the dying expressions of the apostle : — u I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith : henceforth, there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me at that day." And as a decided course is the most happy in its pro- gress, it is also the most happy in its result : for though the rewards of eternity will all be of rich grace, yet they will be proportioned to the zeal and fidelity which have here marked the christian's labors. While the timid and worldly-minded christian (if the expression be not a so- lecism) will be saved so as by fire, the truly decided one will have an abundant entrance ministered to him into the kingdom of our Father ; nay, he will shine as the brightness of the firmament and as the stars for ever and ever. Enough, I trust, has been said, my young friends, to convince you that decision in your religious course is most intimately connected with your usefulness, your comfort, and your character : let me now conclude with a single remark — it is that if you do not become decided now, there is little probability that you ever will De- cided indeed you must be, in a degree, or you cannot be a christian ; but I speak here of that degree of decision 225 which, according to the common understanding of the term, shall entitle you to be considered a decided chris- tian. And I repeat — unless you acquire this character now, at the commencement of your christian course, there is little reason to believe that you ever will acquire it : because every step that you take in the way of con- formity to the world, will multiply the temptations around you, and will diminish your strength of resis- tance. On the other hand, if you begin right, and fix upon an elevated standard of duty, though it may cost you a severe effort at first, your course will soon become easy and delightful. Dare then, my young friends, to do your duty at all times and at all hazards. Never be afraid to stand alone in a good cause* If the world spreads before you its brilliant and tempting scenes, re- member that you are not of the world, and that you are to have no communion with its sinful pleasures. When difficulties and trials throng the path of duty, remember that you have professed to be a disciple of the Lord Je- sus, and that the motto of a disciple is " self-denial." In short, wherever you are — whether among the friends or the enemies of Christ, act consistently with your profes- sion and your hopes. In this way, you will secure to yourself the full amount of blessing which religion is fitted to impart. In this way, you will travel onward to the grave, cheered by the tokens of God's gracious pre- sence ; and beyond it, you will walk over the plains of immortality, in the full radiance of the Redeemer's throne. LECTURE XV. GROWTH IN GRACE. U PETER III. 18. GROW IN GRACE. It is an error common with young christians , that when the first joys of a renovated state have passed away, the current of their affections sets back strongly towards the world. Judging from their appearance, in many instances, we should say that they gave little pro- mise of being faithful soldiers of the cross ; that instead of guarding more closely against their spiritual enemies, and girding themselves more thoroughly for conflict, they were casting from them the armor with which they were actually furnished, and dismissing the sentinels al- ready stationed at the door of their hearts. They would seem to be acting upon the conviction that the course of exercises through which they had passed, constituted certain evidence of regeneration ; and that regeneration not only begins, but completes, their preparation for heaven. Our text is adapted, my young friends, to guard you against this mistaken view of the religious life. It clearly implies that regeneration is but the beginning of religion in the heart, and of course, leaves the subject of it but partially sanctified ; that the christian life is a life of con- stant improvement ; and that this improvement is inti- 228 mately connected with our own exertions. It is the de- sign of this discourse to illustrate the nature, the means, the importance of growth in grace. I. What is it to grow in grace ? The word grace is used in the New Testament with various shades of meaning ; but in the text it evidently denotes practical piety, or the religion of the heart and life. To grow in grace, therefore, is, in general, to make progress in religion. More particularly, 1. It is implied in this duty, that you grow, not merely in the means of religion, but in religion itself. The use of means always supposes that there is an end to be attained ; and this holds true in respect to reli- gion, as well as any thing else. But it would seem that this connexion between the means and the end, is, by many professed christians, in a great measure, overlooked ; and that, for the actual attainment of grace, they sub- stitute the means by which it is to be attained. In the regularity of their attendance on religious services, they seem practically to forget the purpose for which these services were designed ; so that, instead of ministering to the growth of religion, they serve only to cherish a spirit of self-righteousness. Think not that I would dis- courage the most diligent use of means : I would only put you on your guard against defeating the purpose for which they are designed, by an improper use of them. Let them be used, and used daily ; but let it be with re- ference to the attainment of an end — the promotion of religion in the heart and life ; and so long as this purpose is not answered, remember that they have not exerted their proper influence. When the effect of them is to increase your love to God and man, to quicken your faith, to deepen your humility, and to cause you to abound more and more in every christian virtue, then and only then, is their legitimate purpose accomplished. 229 Growth in grace, then, you perceive, involves not only a diligent use of the means of grace, but also the attain- ment of the end for which these means were designed. While the end is not, at least in the ordinary course of providence, to be attained without the means, the means are of no importance, except from their connexion with the end. He who grows in grace, in the use of the one, attains the other. 2. The duty which we are contemplating, implies that you grow, not in some particular parts of religion only, but in every part. The christian character, though made up of a variety of graces and virtues, is a well-proportioned and beauti- ful whole. But as there is a strong disposition to sepa- rate the means and the end in the religious life, there is a similar propensity often manifested to deform the chris- tian character, by neglecting to cultivate some of the traits of which it is composed. Hence we often see pro- fessed christians, who, in some respects, seem to be closely conformed to the gospel standard, who, yet, in others, exhibit so little of the spirit of Christ, as to oc- casion distressing doubts whether they are really his dis- ciples. Now, if you w r ould comply with the duty en- joined in the text, you must guard against this evil. You need not indeed fear that you shall superabound in any of the virtues of the gospel ; but take heed that there be none in which you are deficient. Let your standard of piety be as elevated as it may — but let your christian character rise in just and beautiful proportions. 3. The duty enjoined in the text, moreover, implies that you should grow in religion, not at particular times only, but at all times. There is, I fear, an impression too common among young christians, that the religious character is to be formed chiefly from the influence of great occasions. When, for instance, they are visited by severe affliction, they feel that it is a time for diligently cultivating reli- U 230 gion ; but let the rod of God be withdrawn, and they too commonly relapse into a state of comparative indolence. Or let there be a revival of religion in their immediate neighborhood — and you will see them coming forth to the work in a spirit of humility and self-denial : but let carelessness resume its dominion over the surrounding . multitude, and they too, in many instances, will be seen settled down to a point of freezing indifference. They doubt not that it is the duty of christians to make pro- gress in religion ; but they seem to imagine that, by ex- traordinary diligence at one time, they may atone for some degree of negligence at another. Now we do not deny that there are occasions in the christian's life, and among them those to which we have referred, which are pecu- liarly favorable to his improvement, and for which he ought diligently to watch ; but the notion against which we protest is, that there is any period, in which he may fold his hands in indolence. While you are to improve, with special care, those seasons which furnish peculiar advantages for the cultivation of piety, remember that religion is to be the work of every day ; that in sea- sons of prosperity as well as of adversity, in seasons of coldness as well as of revival, in every condition in which you may be placed, you are bound to grow in grace. II. If such be the nature, we will now inquire, se- condly, what are the means , of growth in grace. These are very numerous : we will specify some of the more prominent. 1 . We notice, first, the private duties of religion, com- prehending meditation, prayer, and reading the scriptures. I would say, in general, in respect to all these duties, that, before you approach them, you should throw down the burden of worldly care and vexation. The bird which possesses the fleetest wing will never fly, if she is oppressed with an insupportable load ; neither will the u may put forth. For instance, you may talk much on the subject of religion, and occasionally manifest a deep inte- rest in it, and yet it will be to little purpose, if your gene- ral deportment be not in correspondence with your con- versation ; whereas, on the other hand, a uniformly holy example will give to the same conversation, a point and energy not easily resisted. So also you may engage actively in the promotion of benevolent objects, and may bring large gifts to the treasury of the Lord, and if this is not of a piece with your daily walk, instead of stimu- lating others to nobler deeds of charity, it is not impro- 262 bable that the charge of ostentation will be made behind your back, if it is not rung in your ears. But beside the influence which a holy example exerts in giving effect to individual acts of beneficence, there is a more general and more direct influence, which may be calculated upon with absolute certainty. A devoted life addresses itself, silently indeed, but most powerfully, to persons of every description. To the careless sinner, and to the slumber- ing christian, it brings reproof and admonition. To those who are awakened to the importance of religion, it proffers a most persuasive invitation to comply with the terms of the gospel. And to those who are actively en- gaged in doing their Master's business, it holds out en- couragement to increased activity and perseverance. In short, a true christian example is a living epistle, known and read of all men. To this point, then, let me entreat you, my young friends, to give diligent heed. See that your conversa- tion be, in all respects, as becometh the gospel of Christ. See that the spirit of piety shed its kindly influence over your whole life. In whatever circumstances you are placed, exhibit the humility, the consistency, the digni- fied firmness, that belongs to the christian character. I exhort you to this now, not as a matter of comfort, but as a matter of usefulness ; as a means of doing good ; and I repeat, that there is in the christian life, a power over the hearts and consciences of men, of the extent of which you have probably never conceived. And if this is true of the christian life in any circumstances, suffer me to say that it is especially true of it when it is exhi- bited by the young. Let an elevated tone of piety ap- pear in a young christian ; let him be at once humble, active, and consistent ; and he will diffuse around him a light, which, perhaps, beyond almost any other, will lead men to glorify our Father who is in heaven. 5. The last of the means of doing good which I shall here specify, is prayer. In a preceding discourse, I have «*BV^ 263 spoken of its importance as a means of growth in grace : I now remark, that it is not less important as a means of doing good. The kind of prayer to which I here espe- cially refer, is of course, intercession. I stop not now to inquire in respect to the nature of the connexion between asking and receiving : it is sufficient for us to know that there is such a connexion ; — that God has commanded us to ask, and has promised, if we ask aright, that we shall receive. And he is as ready to hear the prayers which we offer in behalf of others, as of ourselves. Not that every prayer we offer will be answered in the very manner, and at the very time, which we may expect or desire ; still it is true, literally true, that praying breath is never spent in vain ; and we shall ultimately know that all our prayers offered with faith in the Saviour, have been answered in the best manner possible ; — in the way which infinite wisdom and goodness has dictated. In some respects, you will instantly perceive that prayer possesses an advantage over every other means of doing good. It is a means which you may employ with its full effect, when you are unable to employ any other. Perhaps you have an irreligious friend, who has steadily resisted all your efforts for his salvation ; who has even treated your affectionate counsels and ex- postulations with contempt, insomuch that you have be- come satisfied that you have done all for him in that way that you can ever do : — must you then absolutely give him up, and sit down with the heart-rending reflec- tion that he must certainly perish ? No : you may enter your closet, and on his behalf, commune with your Fa- ther who seeth in secret ; and there perhaps, when all other means have failed, you may prevail with God to create within him a clean heart. Or you may be laid in the providence of God upon a sick bed ; and you may think with deep concern of the salvation of sinners around you, and yet be unable to reach them with the 264 voice of expostulation ; or you may think of the noble institutions of christian charity which bless our land, and yet be too poor to contribute a farthing to aid their operation ; but in either case, you can wield the most powerful engine that God has put into the hands of mortals ; and it may be that you will actually accom- plish more on that bed of sickness, than many around you who have health, and property, and a profusion of the means of active benevolence. And then again, let it not be forgotten, that unless all your other efforts to do good are crowned with prayer, you have no assurance that they will be of any avail : or if they should, by God's grace, be made instrumental of good to others, they will bring no blessings into your own bosom. And let me say too, that the spirit of prayer is the spirit of beneficence ; and it is in the closet, in the worshipping assembly, and universally at a throne of grace, that the christian's heart is quickened to its highest impulse of benevolent action. I say then, my young friends, pray without ceasing. Pray in season, and out of season. Pray for your friends, and your enemies. Pray for those who are near at hand, and those who are afar off. Pray for the whole family of man. Pray with deep humility, with true faith, with earnest perseverance, and you shall know, probably in this world, if not, at the judgment, that in these importunate wrestlings, you were doing a greater amount of good to the souls of your fellow-men, than you have the power to calculate ; — perhaps, that you were clothing the wilderness with moral verdure, and causing the dark places of the earth to echo with the sounds of salvation. I have now specified some of the most important means of doing good ; means which, in a greater or less degree, are within the reach of all of you. Let me here only add, that your worldly calling, whatever it may be, ought to be regarded by you in the same light ; — as an 265 important means of benefiting your fellow-men. In whatever sphere Providence may call you to labor, you are to bear in mind that your efforts are not to terminate in mere self-gratification, but are to have respect to the higher purposes of doing good to others, and of glorify- ing God. III. I proceed to the third general division of the dis- course, in which I am to suggest some directions for doing good. 1. In the first place, then, if you desire to accomplish the greatest amount of good, I would say, Be careful to select a field adapted to your peculiar talents. This re- mark may apply in general to the choice of your calling for life ; or it may apply more particularly to special enterprises of benevolence in which you may engage. There are a great variety of stations and employments allotted to men, in any of which the true christian, if otherwise fitted for them, cannot fail to be useful. But it is easy to conceive that a christian, with certain natural or acquired talents, might be very useful in one station, when he would be little more than a cumberer of the ground in another. Hence the vast importance of judi- ciously selecting your employments ; of always occupy- ing those places which you are fitted to occupy with the greatest advantage ; of using those means for doing good, which are likely, in your hands, to be most efficacious. It is true, indeed, that this is a subject on which you may not always be able to form the most correct opinion ; for there is no kind of knowledge in which we are more apt to be deficient, than the knowledge of our own character : but if you are prudent, you will not only look well into your own hearts, but will take counsel of judicious chris- tian friends, who will be able to judge with less partiality, and probably with more correctness. Entering a sphere of labor for which you are fitted, you may accomplish X 266 more in a short period, than, in other circumstances, you could accomplish during a whole life. There is one common mistake connected with this sub- ject, to which I beg leave to advert for the sake of putting you on your guard against it, if, perchance, it should, with any of you, become a practical matter. I refer to the fact that young men, not unfrequently, from conscientious considerations, leave a profession to which they have been trained, and for which they are fitted, for one to which they have neither a natural or acquired adaptation. Far be it from me to question that there may be cases in which a mechanic, or a merchant, or a lawyer, may very pro- perly resign the trade or the profession to which he has been educated, and even at a comparatively late period, enter the gospel ministry ; but I am constrained to offer it as my deliberate conviction that, in the great majority of instances in which such a change takes place, it is not for the better, but for the worse, as it respects the amount of good ultimately accomplished. Admitting that the calling to which the individual is first devoted, is honest and honorable, and one to which he has been regularly trained, he had, in all ordinary cases, better remain in it ; for if he enter another, especially if he enter the gospel ministry, it will probably be with at best a hurried pre- paration, and in circumstances which give little promise of success. If you have found by experience that you can occupy one place to advantage, there is always some hazard in relinquishing it for another w T hich you have not tried, of a very different character. And you misjudge altogether, if you imagine that the christian ministry opens the only extensive field of usefulness to a christian : for it admits of no question that there are many good men, who can be far more useful out of the ministry than in it. I do not decide that in a case like that which I have sup- posed, you ought not to change ; but I say with confi- dence, that you ought not to do it without much delibera- tion and prayer. -*5%^ 267 2. Another direction necessary to be observed, if you will accomplish the greatest amount of good in your power, is, that, so far as may be, your whole time should be occupied in doing good. I should not be surprised, if the query should arise in some of your minds, whether this is indeed possible ; whether it is not necessary, from the very constitution of our nature, that part of our time should be devoted to amusement ? I answer, the consti- tution of our nature does require an occasional cessation from severe labor, and an occasional change of employ- ment ; but it does not require that it should be a change from what is useful to what is useless, or foolish : on the contrary, the whole purpose — the only legitimate purpose of amusement, is answered by a change from one useful employment to another ; an employment which keeps you still doing good, though you are doing good in a different way. If you govern your conduct by this prin- ciple, you will find yourselves blessed with a far higher degree of activity both of mind and body, and will be far better fitted for the discharge of your ordinary duties, than if you should yield yourselves up to absolute inaction, or to what ordinarily passes with the world under the name of amusement. In this way, too, many of your precious moments which would otherwise be lost, and worse than lost, are improved to the benefit of your fellow-men, and the glory of God. 3. If you would do all the good in your power, reduce your various duties, so far as possible, to system. Every man of the world knows how necessary this is in the accomplishment of his purposes : and it is equally neces- sary for the man, who, whatever he does, aims to do all to the glory of God. You ought to regard this as a matter of christian obligation, not only in respect to what- ever relates to your daily employment, but to your efforts for the promotion of particular objects of benevolence, and especially to your pecuniary contributions. Let the plan by which you are to regulate your whole conduct, be ■*>j 268 formed in your closet : let it be formed deliberately ; in the exercise of a spirit of prayer ; with a deep sense of your christian obligations ; and in view of the retribu- tions of the judgment : and that plan reduced to prac- tice, will, on the whole, bring a much larger amount of blessing in its train, than any course of conduct which should be left to the control of accidental circumstances and occasional impulses. I do not say but that, in the latter case, you might sometimes do more, and give more, from the momentary impulse of excited feeling, than in the former : but in the one case, your influence would be like that of a summer shower — rattling, soon over, and not penetrating beyond the surface of the earth ; in the other, it would be like that of a steady rain — compara- tively noiseless, but sinking deep into the earth, and causing it to minister to the wants of man. Suffer me to say, my young friends, that if you intend ever to regulate your efforts in doing good by a regard to system, you cannot begin too early. I know not whether there be any one habit which is broken up with more difficulty, than a habit of action which has no respect to order ; and such a habit persisted in for a few years, if we may judge from the analogy of experience, must be pronounced nearly incurable. As you desire, then, not only to do the greatest amount of good, but to do it with the greatest ease and pleasure, I exhort you to lose no time in forming a habit of systematic action. 4. It is also important, in order that you may do the greatest good in your power, that your efforts should be proportioned to different objects , according to their claims on your regard. Two objects may be equally important in themselves, and yet the one, from peculiar circum- stances, may have a much stronger claim on your atten- tion than the other : for instance, the members of your own family, or the circle of your immediate friends, have no doubt a stronger claim on your benevolent exertions, than the inhabitants of Japan or Hindostan ; not because 269 the souls of your kindred or friends are more precious than the souls of these heathen, but because Providence has placed the former more immediately within the range of your influence. Not that you are to refuse your aid for the salvation of those who are afar off ; for you have al- ready seen that your field of operation is the world: nevertheless, as a general rule, you are to regard those who are near you, other things being equal, as having stronger claims than the more distant, on the principle to which I have just adverted. Of the various objects of real benevolence which are presented to you, I do not advise you to turn away from any which you have the ability to aid ; but I exhort you to let the comparative aid which you render to each, be a matter of reflection and prayer. An object in itself less important, may, sometimes, from peculiar circumstances, demand, for the time being, more of your aid, than a more important one ; but in general, the relative importance of the object, in connexion with the providential relation you sustain to it, is to be the criterion by which you are to determine your duty. 5. I observe, once more, that if you would do the greatest amount of good in your power, you must watch for the most favorable seasons for action. You know how important this is to the merchant, and indeed to men of every profession : the improvement of a single oppor- tunity, the taking advantage of a slight turn of circum- stances, may be the hinge on which turns their fortune for life. Let not the children of this world, my young friends, be wiser in their generation than the children of light. Be always on the watch for opportunities of doing good ; lest, while your vigilance is suspended for an hour, some opportunity should escape you, which, by having been faithfully improved, might have secured the salva- tion of some immortal soul. Be ready at all times to speak a word in season for God : I say, a word in season; for while I desire that you may be faithful on this sub- X2 270 ject, I would never have you disgust by being inappro- priate and obtrusive : but " a word fitly spoken," that is, spoken in the right time, and in the right manner, the wise man has declared, u is like apples of gold in pictures of silver." So also you may sometimes do incalculable good by a tract, and that too in circumstances in which you could do good in no other way : and who does not know that, by this means, a reproof has sometimes been brought home to the heart of the scoffer, which has melted him down into a penitent at the foot of the cross ? In a -word, let it be your object, while you are always engaged in doing good, to avail yourselves especially of those golden seasons which now and then occur, in which you may accomplish great good, perhaps in a single moment ; opportunities which, if once suffered to pass, can never be recalled. IV. I have already dwelt at so great length on this subject, that I shall detain you but a few moments upon the last article, in which I am to consider the motives for doing good : though this of itself constitutes a subject so broad, that, instead of occupying a small part of a dis- course, it might profitably occupy several discourses. 1 . The first motive which I would present before you for doing good, is, that, in this way only, you answer the end of your existence. A moment's inspection of your intellectual and moral constitution, shows you that you are gifted with noble powers ; powers which could have been bestowed only by the Almighty and All-wise God. The question arises, Whence, then, were they bestowed ? Was it that they might be perverted to purposes of re- bellion and crime ? Such an inquiry needs no reply. Was it then that they might merely answer the purposes of self-indulgence ; or that they should remain in a state of indolent inaction ? To admit this, were not only absurd, but blasphemous. You need go to no higher teachers than reason and conscience, to be assured that these noble 271 powers were given you for benevolent action ; and that when they are used in any other way, or for any other purpose, they are perverted. Man was made for a far higher purpose than the beasts that perish ; but if his faculties are employed in any other way than in doing good, he loses the place in creation which his Maker as- signed him, and becomes worse than a blank in the works of God. I know that this is a motive which addresses itself to youth of every character — to those who utterly neglect religion, as well as to those who have entered on a religious life : but I am sure it applies in all its force to you who are professedly the disciples of Christ ; for to say nothing of the fact that you may be deceived, it is certain that you bear about with you a body of sin, and hence are in danger of doing far less good than is actually within your power ; and just in proportion as you come short of this, you defeat the design for which your faculties, your very existence, was given you. As you desire then to answer, in the highest degree, the end for which God made you, and made you what you are in the scale of being, be always employed in doing good. 2. Another motive by which I would urge you to a life of active benevolence, is, that your destiny thereby becomes allied to that of the highest orders of creation. No doubt there are various ranks of being above us, as we know that there are various orders below us ; and with the exception of the rebel angels who are confined in chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day, all these superior orders of intelligence are engaged in a course of unceasing, active benevolence. They breathe the pure atmosphere of Heaven : they walk in the light of the Lamb : they execute the purposes of infinite wisdom and infinite love : they strike their golden harps to the praises of Jehovah. By a life of active benevo- lence, you become incorporated into the same family with them, and prepared for their communion and their joys. Nay, more, your destiny, in some respects, will be ele- 272 vated above theirs ; for the song of redemption you will raise to a higher and nobler note than they ever can. Is not here, then, a powerful motive to benevolent action ; a consideration which should induce you not to be weary in well-doing ? 3. By a life of active benevolence, you are changed into the image of God, from glory to glory. It is the most perfect epitome that was ever formed of the character of God, that he is Love : it is his delightful and unceasing employment to do good. Every thing in creation, every thing in providence, every thing in redemption, proves it. Would you, then, bear the lineaments of his character ; and do you desire that you may wear his image with in- creasing brightness ? Then, let me say, imitate his divine beneficence. Let it be the constant employment of your life to do good. This brings you up towards the standard of infinite perfection ; and while it makes you like God, it makes you a constant object of his complacence and blessing. 4. Be encouraged to a life of benevolent action, by the consideration that you hereby act in character not only as a creature of God, and a probationer for eternity, but especially as a professor of religion. In acknowledging yourself a disciple of Jesus Christ, you not only recog- nize your obligations to do good, but avow your deter- mination to do good ; and it is only in proportion as your life is given to active benevolence, that you redeem the pledge which a christian profession involves. When you make it manifest that your grand aim is to diffuse bless- ings around you, to relieve the temporal and spiritual wants of your fellow creatures, and thus to leave the world the better for your having lived in it, your cha- racter is clothed with a majesty which does not belong to that of the hero or the statesman — the majesty of a con- sistent christian. But on the other hand, if you content yourself with a mere negative character, satisfied to do no harm, though you do little positive good, every man 273 who knows what you profess, will note your inconsis- tency, and will, at least in his heart, say, " You profess more, but what do you more than others ?" 5. Finally : Let me urge you to a steady course of benevolent action, by the consideration that in no other way, can you accomplish the design of your early conver- sion. When God calls sinners into his kingdom at any period of life, he calls them to be active in his service : when he calls them in the morning of life, it is that they may labor for him early ; and if he is pleased to continue them to an advanced period, that they may also labor long. Suppose, in his providence, he should spare you to advanced age — what an amount of good may you not accomplish ; what a mighty influence may you not exert on the destinies of your fellow men ; what large treasures of bliss and glory may you not lay up for yourselves in a better world ! And what if you should die early ? Still you do not wish to die without having done something to benefit your generation, and glorify God : and God, by calling you early into his kingdom, has declared that he is willing— nay, that he is desirous, that you should thus be honored. In the accomplishment of this benevolent de- sign concerning you, see that you faithfully and diligently co-operate : do good to all men as you have opportunity ; and God your Father and Redeemer will smile upon you from his throne, and ere long will take you up to dwell amid the glories of his own eternal beneficence. m, LECTURE XVII. THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN'S COURSE. II. TIMOTHY IV. 7. I HAVE FINISHED MY COURSE. You will instantly perceive that I have chosen this passage somewhat in the way of accommodation. As it stands in the apostle's discourse, it is the language, not of a young christian, but of an aged christian, who is just closing his career of conflict and trial, and has heaven full in view. " I have finished my course — the labors and sufferings of a long life are now soon to be ended : already I have reached the hither part of the dark valley : the crown of righteousness, and the robe of glory, begin to glitter in my eye ; and strains of heavenly music fall sweetly on my ear." Oh what a moment was that to Paul ! Who would not covet death, if he could greet it with such joyful confidence, as a messenger to call him up to glory ? But in the present discourse, I purpose to consider the text as an expression of triumphant faith in a young christian, in the immediate prospect of his departure. In the series of discourses which I am now bringing to a close, I have contemplated a youth, first, as exposed, perhaps yielding, to the temptations of the world, and neglecting his immortal interests ; then, as inquiring with 276 deep anxiety, " what he shall do to be saved ;" then, as actually complying with the conditions of the gospel, and becoming a new creature in Christ Jesus ; and subse- quently, as walking in the commandments and ordinances of the Lord, and thus growing in knowledge, piety, and usefulness. I now make the supposition — and it surely involves nothing improbable — that this same youth, in the midst of his christian activity, is arrested by the hand of death ; and that, in the last hour of his life, as he con- templates the past, and looks forward to the future, he exclaims, " I have finished my course." I invite you, my young friends, to contemplate this youth — suppose, if you will, that it is one of your own companions — in these most solemn and interesting circumstances ; and then answer to your own conscience, whether the joy of such a death does not compensate a thousand fold for all the sacrifices which, yourselves being judges, religion ever required of him. Without adverting particularly to the obvious fact that the text contains an allusion to the Grecian games, I shall proceed directly to call your attention to the course here spoken of, in application to a young christian : to its character, its close, its consequences. I. Its Character. And, I remark, in the first place, that it is a brief course. Brief indeed is the course of that christian who even fills up his threescore years and ten ; for the life of man, at its best state, is as a dream of the night when one awaketh. But in the case which I am supposing, it is a brief period compared with that which falls to the lot of many others. This is true of the whole period of youth- ful life ; and it is especially true of that part of it, w r hich is devoted to the service of Christ. The youth perhaps has lived twelve, fifteen, twenty years, before he has ever thought seriously of his soul's salvation : supposing him, at either of these periods, to have entered on the religious '~v* 277 life, and yet to find an early grave, how short the season allotted to his christian course ! Whatever he may have done, or whatever he may have suffered, in the cause of his Redeemer, has all been brought within very narrow limits. Again : It is a beneficent course. However some may imagine that a life of religion necessarily implies seclusion from the world, and others, that it imposes no peculiar obligations, the christian of whom I am speaking, having been faithful, has acted upon a far different principle. From the time that he became a new creature in Christ Jesus, he has steadily recognized his obligation to live not for himself, but for Him who died for his salvation. His grand object has been to do good ; — to do good in the various relations of life ; — to do good to all men, so far as he has had opportunity and ability. He has found no time to waste in the follies to which many of his com- panions have yielded ; but has endeavored, to the extent of his power, to give all his hours to some employment, which would contribute to render the world better for his having lived in it. Again : It is a self -denied course. At its very com- mencement, he took a deliberate survey of the field he was about to enter, and saw that he could do nothing without constant conflict ; but he resolved to be a chris- tian notwithstanding ; and from that hour, he became crucified to the world, and the world was crucified to him. Not improbably he had much to encounter in leaving gay associates, and taking his stand on the side of religion ; but he dared to be singular then, and the resolutions which he then formed to resist temptation, he has steadily adhered to since. He has found himself in only a par- tially sanctified state, with corrupt affections and inclina- tions often prompting him to sin ; and sometimes he has been ready to exclaim, under the power of indwelling corruption, " O wretched man that I am, who shall de- liver me from the body of this death ?" Nevertheless, Y 278 Be has resolutely prosecuted the warfare with himself, and has seen his spiritual enemies gradually put under his feet. It has been his constant prayer, his earnest en- deavor, that he might gain an entire victory over all his evil passions and appetites, and that every principle of his nature might be brought into captivity to the obedience of Christ. ■ Again : It is a dependent course : and by this, I mean that he has not gone about the performance of his duties in his own strength. He has recollected that all his springs were in God ; that while he was commanded to be active, he was dependent for the very power of action on the influence of the Holy Spirit. Instead of perverting this truth to minister to indolence on the one hand, or presumption on the other, he uses it as furnishing at once an argument for activity and humility ; and while he doeth what his hand findeth to do with his might, he habitually connects with his efforts to do good, a sense of dependence on Almighty grace. Hence that may be said of him in reference to his general character, which was said of Paul in reference to his conversion—' 4 Behold he prayeth !" Further : It is an increasingly easy course. When he first contemplated the obstacles which would oppose his progress, they seemed to him perhaps well nigh insur- mountable ; and it may be that he hesitated long before he took up the resolution to encounter them. One of the greatest difficulties he apprehended was that of separating himself from worldly companions and vanities, and taking the attitude of a determined friend of religion, in the face of the world : but he has found the difficulty in this re- spect constantly diminishing with each successive effort ; and that, not only inasmuch as his efforts have contributed to increase his power of action, on the principle that every faculty is improved by proper exercise, but also because his determined perseverance has discouraged, in a great degree, the attempts to draw him away from his duty. 279 And as it is in this respect, so it is in every other. He has indeed, as he has advanced, learned more of the cor- ruption of his heart, and of his need of a constant divine influence ; nevertheless, every temptation over which he has gained the victory, has rendered each successive one less formidable : every evil affection which he has been enabled to crucify, has given him an advantage in respect to every other which has risen in his heart : every mea- sure of grace which he has received, has been a measure of strength to enable him the better to discharge his duty. In this way, amidst all the disclosures of his own corrup- tions, amidst the constantly accumulating weight of duty, his course has continually become more easy ; and ob- stacles which once seemed not only real, but even appal- ling, have, at length, entirely disappeared. Moreover, it is on the whole a pleasant course. Yes, it is pleasant, with all the conflicts and trials with which it is connected ; for with these very conflicts and trials, grace intermingles ; so that the cup which seems to have in it nothing but bitterness, has really little else than consolation. If I were to speak of the elements of the joy which is here experienced, I should tell you of that peace which passeth understanding ; of that hope which is an anchor to the soul ; of that living faith which rests in and appropriates the promises of God ; which unites the soul to its Sa- viour, and impresses upon it his image ; which takes from adversity its terrors, and plucks from death his sting. Leaving out of view then altogether the exceeding and eternal weight of glory, I say there is enough to justify the remark that the young christian's course is pleasant ; and especially w T hen compared with the only other course which it was in his power to pursue. And finally, it is a successful course. His companions in age have had various objects in view, and have pur- sued them with great labor and perseverance. Some have been toiling for one worldly object, and some for another ; and either the object of their pursuit has not 280 been attained, or being attained, has been found unsatis- factory. And not improbably some among them have already rendered their dying testimony to the folly and vanity of their pursuits. He, on the other hand, has succeeded in his efforts — I may say, has succeeded fully ; for he has been honored as the instrument of diffusing blessings around him, and he is an heir to " a crown of righteousness that fadeth not away." But in these re- marks I anticipate a succeeding division of the discourse. Let me then, from the character of the young christian's course, pass, II. To its close. The text contemplates it as finished. It is finished in a peaceful manner. It may be that the young christian has often contemplated death as an object of dismay ; and though he may have been able to think of every other trial with composure, yet as often as he has thought of going down into the dark valley, he has been oppressed with fearful apprehension. But the ter- rors of death gradually diminish as his end draws near. His faith becomes more active, his hope more firm, his views of heaven stronger and brighter ; the promises of the gospel come home to his soul in all their reality, and richness, and power ; and he feels ready to breathe out his life in an act of thanksgiving to redeeming grace. He sees around him friends, it may be parents, brothers, sisters, to whom he is united by the most endearing ties ; but he can cheerfully give them up, for the community of friends to which he is going ; and he gives them up too, it may be, in the strong confidence that they will ere long be his companions in glory. The world, its objects and interests, gradually fade upon his vision, till he falls calmly and sweetly to rest, and the place that has known him hitherto, knows him no more. But the close of the young christian's course is often more than peaceful — it is joyful and triumphant. The soul, as it approaches the hour of final conflict, sometimes 281 gathers surprising strength ; and is enabled to raise the shout of victory, while it is not yet dislodged from its earthly tabernacle. Such are the visions of glory that entrance the departing spirit, that the agony of dying appears lighter than nothing ; — it is even forgotten, till the soul is reminded that it is past, by finding itself among those whose robes are washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb. Often have I seen the young chris- tian, and sometimes even the naturally timid female, breathing out her spirit on the bed of death with unutter- able transport ; committing herself into her Redeemer's hands, not merely without a chill of distrust, but with the joyful, thankful exclamation — " I know in whom I have believed :" and when I have seen and heard this, I have wished that I might bring in every thoughtless youth around me, as a spectator of the scenes of that dying bed ; not doubting that each one in view of it must say, " Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his !" Nevertheless, the close of the young christian's course, peaceful and even triumphant as it may be, is humble. For he realizes strongly — probably more strongly than at any preceding period of his life — that in his best attempts to serve his Master, he has been but an unprofitable servant. When he thinks of the waywardness, the listlessness, the inconstancy, by which even his religious life has been marked, and then of that grace which has all along been manifested to keep him from final apostacy, and then of the peace and joy which he is permitted to experience in his last moments, and finally glances the eye of faith onward to the glories which await him in heaven ; in a word, when he reflects that all that enters into the work of his salvation is grace — rich grace, and that instead of leaving the world in triumph , he deserves to leave it in despair, and to go down to the world of despair ; — when he thinks of all this, I say, he desires, amid all the glory of dying in the Lord, to lie at the foot Y2 282 of the cross, and with his last breath, to give to God all the praise of his salvation. " Not unto me, who am less than the least of all saints," is the language of his soul, u but to thy great name, Merciful Redeemer, to the effi- cacy of thy blood — to the power of thy grace — to the merit of thy intercession, be all the honor of my redemp- tion from the eternal pit, and of my exaltation to that throne of light which awaits me in heaven !" And finally, under this article, the young christian finishes his course in a manner that is honorable to reli- gion. It may be that some of the thoughtless youth around him have called his piety by the hard name of hy- pocrisy or fanaticism ; but if they are present to witness his closing scene, they have evidence that they were in a most wretched mistake. Here they see that the religion which he had exhibited in life, is an all-sustaining prin- ciple ; that the Saviour whom he had served by a course of self-denying obedience, fulfils his promise to be his stay and his staff in the dark valley. And such a scene, if any thing, is fitted to impress them with the realities of eternity, and to awaken them to an inquiry concern- ing their own salvation. It is fitted too, to strengthen the faith, and quicken the obedience of christians, and especially of their young christian friends, who may be present to witness their departure, and who are to remain yet longer in the field of conflict, before they are dismissed for their reward. More than once has the triumphant death of a young christian carried conviction to the heart even of the scoffer and of the profligate : often has it brought the anxious yet lingering inquirer to a decision on the great question that has involved his immortal interests ; and where is the christian who has witnessed such a scene, who will not testify that it has diminished his attachment to the world, and strengthened his confidence in his Redeemer, and rendered the gospel more precious to him, as containing a death-bed religion ? In whatever other circumstances the infidel may scoff at 283 the religion of Jesus, he cannot — I had almost said, even if he had the malignity of a fallen spirit — he cannot re- vile this religion, as it is acted out in the peace and joy with which the young christian often yields up his soul into the hands of his Redeemer. III. Let me now, in the third place, call your atten- tion, for a few moments, to the consequences of the young christian's course. These we will consider in relation to himself > and in relation to the world. His course is followed by most important blessings to himself. It is a blessing, a rich blessing, to be able to leave behind us a good name ; to live after we are dead, in the grateful and affectionate remembrance of those who survive us. The voice of popular applause which sometimes rings in shouts at the virtues, and even at the vices of men, and which, by a slight change of circum- stances, can be changed into the voice of execration, is indeed an unimportant matter, and is rather to be depre- cated than desired. But to desire that our memories may be embalmed in the hearts of the wise and good, that we may be spoken of with gratitude and kindness, as having lived for the benefit of our fellow-men — this is a genuine dictate of nature ; and perhaps there is no de- gree of depravity that can dislodge this original desire from the breast. I say then, it is a delightful conse- quence of the course which the young christian has pur- sued, that it secures to him a good name after he is dead : it secures to him a place in the affections of all, in whose affections a good man would desire to live. When his neighbors and acquaintances come to unite in a prayer around his unburied remains, and then go and see them deposited in the grave, that funeral service will not be, as in many other cases, a dull formality ; but you will see that many hearts are in it, and that there are many out of the circle of near friends, who feel that they have sustained a loss. And long after the grave has closed 284 upon his remains, those who knew him— especially those who have been benefited by his counsels, or example, or prayers, will delight to dwell on his memory, and will speak of that as a dark dispensation by which so much christian promise, so many budding hopes, were prema- turely blasted. Yes, though his course has been brief, it has been so bright, and holy, and useful, that it cannot soon be forgotten : the record of what he was will re- main fair in many hearts, when the moss shall have grown over his tomb-stone, and the worm shall have revelled upon his body. But far richer blessings than these are to crown the young christian's course — blessings which are to fall upon the path of his whole future existence. For the mo- ment that death has done its work — yes, at that moment when the bosom of surviving friendship heaves its hea- viest sigh — his spirit is before the throne of God ; an innumerable multitude of glorified beings welcome his ar- rival ; the songs of redemption tremble on his ear ; the glories of the upper world blaze upon his eye. From all doubt, and sin, and sorrow, he finds himself for ever set free : he has become an inhabitant of a world of light, in which he can contemplate even the unveiled glory of God ; — of a world of purity, in which there is not a vestige of any thing that defileth ; — of a world of joy, in which all tears are wiped away. His character is that of a glorified immortal ; his residence is the third heavens ; his employment, unceasing praise to God and the Lamb ; his society, the general assembly and church of the first-born, an innumerable company of angels, Jesus, the Mediator of the new covenant, and God, the Judge and Father of all. And where, during this period of the soul's perfection, is his body ? Slumbering in the grave ; it may be, dis- solved into its original elements, and scattered to the winds. But shall it always be thus ? No : the voice of the archangel shall wake that slumbering dust, and 285 collect, and reorganize it, by an Almighty energy ; and instead of being a corruptible body, it shall be an incor- ruptible one; and it shall be united to that glorified spirit ; and the whole man shall be brought into judg- ment ; and shall recognize in the Judge a Redeemer and Friend ; and shall hear the sentence of acquittal and re- ward ; and then shall advance onward into the ages of eternity, clothed with the splendors of immortal beauty. Say then, are not the consequences of the young chris- tian's course glorious to himself ? If it were a perpe- tual scene of wretchedness, unmitigated by the least consolation, and were always to terminate amid the fires, and agonies, and horrors, of martyrdom, tell me, whether it were not wise to incur this, and a thou- sand fold more than this, for the sake of obtaining such a reward ? But the course of the young christian is ordinarily fol- lowed by rich blessings to others. For though he has lived but a little while, he has not lived in vain. He has lived long enough, and been a christian long enough, to sow some seed that shall bear fruit unto eternal life. Perhaps his holy example, and faithful efforts, in the family, have been blessed to the salvation of some of its members. Or perhaps his labors in the sabbath school have been crowned, in an unusual degree, with the di- vine blessing ; and have been the means of bringing many children to love their Creator and Redeemer. Or perhaps he has been the instrument of reclaiming some of his former thoughtless associates from haunts of ir- religion, and habits of levity, and bringing them to at- tend seriously to the concerns of their souls. Or he may have been the parent of some benevolent institution, which will live and continue its operations long after he is dead, and perhaps into the ages of the millenium. In either or all of these ways, he may have labored in the cause of Christ ; and when it is recollected that influence is, from its very nature, progressive and accumulative, 286 how much, think you, may he be found to have done, in the end of the world, for the benefit of his fellow-crea- tures ? On how many myriads of souls may the labors of a few short years, it may be of a single year, tell, in the whole progress of his being ? I ask, are not the consequences of this brief course, to the world, as well as to himself, literally incalculable ? Who will not say, on a review of this subject, that it furnishes a powerful argument to every young christian, for persevering diligence in the service of his Master ? You have entered on a course which, for aught you know, may very speedily be closed. If you could read what is written concerning you in the book of God's secret counsels, you might possibly know that you have almost reached the limit of your probation ; that you are on the eve of going to render up your account. I know that you desire to finish your course with joy. I know that you desire that it may truly be said of you, after you are dead, that your life has been a blessing to the world. I know that you desire to crowd into this little period as much of service as you can, to that Saviour who has died to purchase the reward to which you are looking forward. Well then, if your days are so rapidly passing, what re- mains but that you should, during the residue of life, consecrate all your powers to the honor of your Master. Dream not, my young friends, that the course of a mere nominal christian can terminate in joy and glory. Dream not that the forms of religion can be safely substituted for its life and power. Remember that nothing but practical godliness will stand, when flesh and heart fail. See to it, that your course be the course of the humble, self- denied, devoted christian ; then will its termination be happy ; and its consequences, to you and the world, in time and in eternity, unutterably glorious. But if this subject supplies a powerful argument to the young christian, for a devoted religious life, it fur- nishes an argument equally powerful to every irreligious 287 youth, to become immediately reconciled to God. Tell me, my young friends, whether the course which has now been presented before you, does not, in every re- spect, approve itself to your judgment, more than that which you hitherto have been, and still are, pursuing. What though there may be self-denial, and conflict, and bitter repentance, in a life of religion, yet are you not satisfied that it has, on the whole, greatly the advantage, even on the score of happiness, of a life of sinful in- dulgence ; and is it not, in the view of all whose good opinion is worth possessing — nay, is it not, in the sober judgment of your own conscience, far more honorable ? But suppose, as it respects both happiness and honor in this world, they were alike ; which course, think you, is the most desirable in its close ? Would you rather have in the hour of death the remorse, the wretchedness, the fearful anticipations, which impenitence begets, or the peace that passeth understanding, the hope full of immortality, the joy unspeakable and full of glory, which are inspired by the review of a life that has been devoted to the service of Christ ? And after you are dead, would you rather have it said of you, that you had lived for the benefit of your fellow-men, or that you had lived for the gratification of self ? And in eternity, would you choose to be associated with seraphs or with fiends ; to be employed in wailing or in praise ; to have a part in the resurrection of life or in the resurrection of damna- tion ? I am sure not one of you can hesitate in what manner to answer these questions : not one of you but must feel that the lot of the righteous is infinitely to be preferred before that of the wicked : — I venture even to add, not one of you but intends ere long to make the lot of the righteous his own. I warn you then, once more, that there is no time to be lost. Not an hour passes, but your immortal interests are in jeopardy. Yield your- selves then to the service of God without delay ; and though you should die early, you will die safely and 288 peacefully ; — will die to live and reign with Christ on his throne for ever and ever. I here close the series of discourses, my young friends, which have, for a considerable time, occupied you, and which have been designed for your special benefit. I may be permitted to say that I have been gratified, in no small degree, by the respectful attention you have rendered them ; and nothing now remains, on my part, but that I should commend them to your serious recol- lection, and to the blessing of Almighty God. It shall be my earnest prayer — and I invite you to join me in it — that this effort made for your salvation may be crowned by the influence of the Holy Spirit ; and that in the day when we shall meet to testify how I have preached, and how you have heard, it may appear to our mutual and everlasting joy, that this course of instruction which is now closed, has been to some of you — to many of you — to all of you, a savor of life unto life. Library of Congress