PRESENTED TO THE LIBRARY

OF

PRINCETON THEOLOGICHL SEMINARY

BY

JVIrs. Alexander Ppoudfit.

/

DISCOURSES

ON

COMMON TOPICS OF CHRISTIAN FAITH
AND PRACTICE.

BY

JAMES W. ALEXANDER, D.D.

SECOND KDITIOX.

^

NEW YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER, 124 GRAND STREET.

1858.

Entered according to Act of Confess, in the year 185S, by

CHARLES 8CEIBNER,

In the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of
New York.

JOHM F. Tbow,

Piialer, Stereotyper, nod Electrotypar

811 & 319 Broadway,

Cor. White Street, New York.

PREFACE

The appearance of these Discourses is due to the kind
importunity of the Publisher, once my pupil and since
my esteemed friend, who has for several years asked this
contribution. Diligent inquiiy of the Ti-ade has informed
me, that while the recent depression of business has
lessened literary demand in general, the proportion of
religious books sold has strikingly increased.

There are, as every one knows, several clever sayings,
which set aside the Sermon as a species characteristically
dull and unreadable ; and this has tempted not a few, in
giving the matter of their preaching to the world, to use
some disguise as to the original form. Yet the testimony
of booksellers is, that some of the most widely spread
publications of +he day are collections of Sermons.

^ PREFACE.

Printing is only preaching in another shape. Pro-
vided, then, that people will read, a minister of Christ
needs no more apology for putting his instructions into
type, tlian for going into the pnlpit. If he is sincere and
zealous, liis intention will be the same in both. He is
only giving vast increase to the circle of his influence,
for good or evil.

The affectionate and often fondly partial hearers of
any preacher, are apt to desire the publication of what
has been blessed to their spiritual strength and comfort ;
and such derive a profit from the printed book which
cannot be measured by its intrinsic quality. It is with
this view that these pages are more particularly dedi-
cated to the beloved people of my charger.

After all, the controlling reason for publishing as well
as preaching, should be a desire to glorify God in the
salvation of men, by communicating as widely as j)Ossible
the truth of the Gospel. When we have done all, we
leave millions unreached by our endeavours ; and if by
any means we can add even one to the number of learn-
ers, it is worth tlie labour. Each messenger has some
peculiarity in his way of influence. Every man who
thinks long and deeply upon the plan of grace has cer-
tain favourite views, which have cost him something,
which he cherishes with delight, and in which he strongly
desires that others may participate. Even truths as old as
Christianity itself strike him in such a way that he flatters

PREFACE. 5

himself he can bring them home with a kindred freshness
to his neighbours and brethren. Let me avow that there
are doctrinal statements in the following pages, which,
though in no sense novel, are such as conduce to the very
life of my soul, and such therefore as I am exceedingly
desirous, in my humble measure, to rescue from misap-
prehension and inculcate on my children and friends.
No speaker or writer is likely to leave a deep mark upon
other minds, or in any degree to mould the thinking of
his contemporaries, except by the utterance of principles,
which not only are held by him in sincerity of belief, but
are dear to his heart and operative on his character, as
being inseparable from the current of his daily and
nightly thinking. They may be true, or they may be
false ; but of him who holds them they are the weapons
of warfare. Hence we are sometimes fain to do homage
to the earnestness of a man, whose reasonings do not
bring us over. For the doctrines here set forth, I claim
only this : whether with or without reason, they are my
belief. Years fly apace, natural vigour wanes, and op-
portunities of personal influence become fewer ; but my
profound conviction of the verities here proposed waxes
stronger and stronger, with a corresponding earnestness
to diffuse and impress them. No concealment or com-
promise has been attempted as to the tenets ; which be-
long to a scheme of belief, ancient, intelligibly distinct,
even singular, long contested, read and known of all men.

g PREFACE.

Yet if there is awght here which shall disturb any evan-
gelical mind, it has crept in without a polemical purpose.
The field is immeasurably large, in which we may ex-
patiate, without setting foot upon the minor controver-
sies of the schools; and some who are immovably at-
tached to certain theological distinctions, would be tlie
last to lay them among the foundations, or erect them
into terms of communion, or set them forth as tests of
grace. It is hoped, meanwhile, that humble experienced
believers will find here in due prominence those central
truths concerning Jesus Christ and Him crucified, by
which all theology and all sermons must stand or fall.

ISTone of the articles which make up this book belong
to the class of Occasional Discourses ; one only, intended
for the young, was delivered by request ; all are such as
came up in the routine of a common ministry. They are
intentionally miscellaneous, and several of the number
are recent, as having been preached during the late
blessed awakening.

It is my humble and hearty prayer, that God would
vouchsafe, by his Holy Spirit, to make them useful.

New York, November, 1858.

CONTENTS

FAOB

PREFACE 8

I.
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF 11

IL

THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY . . 49

III.
THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD IN PARTICULARS . . IS

IV.
THE INCARNATION «8

V

THE CHARACTER OF THE WORLDLING . . .126

VL
THE SCORNER 1*®

g CONTENTS .

VII. PAGH

SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER . . .169

VIII.
DYING FOR FRIENDS 187

IX.
THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING 207

Z.

THE THIRSTY INVITED 225

XI.
THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION . . .246

XII.
NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED . . . 268

XIIL
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR 283

XIV.
THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN . . .821

XV.
DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST 341

XVL
MIRTH 861

XVIL
BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES 3*79

CONTENTS. 9

XVIII. PAOB

THE CHURCH A TEMPLE ... . 399

XIX.
STRENGTH IN CHRIST 423

XX.

YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE .... 443

I.

OUB MODERN UNBELIEF

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.*

2 Cor. ii. 11.
" For we are not ignorant of his devices."

I. If Satan has the guile, the experience and the
enmity which we commonly ascribe to him, he may be
expected not to confine himself to one mode of attack
on Christianity, but to bring up new forces and lay siege
to new points in each successive age. And if the de-
fenders of Truth have been as successful as we allege,
they must make up their minds to see fresh reserves of
argumentation, satire and obloquy taking the places of
those which have been resisted and overcome. These
antecedent probabilities are exactly realized in the ac-
tual strategy of our powerful antagonist. Christianity
has been assaulted in every age since the beginning, but
with a continual change in the object of the onset and
the weapons and manoeuvres of the foe. The objec-

* New York, February S, 1852.

]^4 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

tions of Porphyry and Celsus seemed formidable in their
day, and called out early -writers in those Apologies, as
they are named, which still exist in the libraries of the
learned ; but their objections would scarcely disturb the
faith of a Christian child in our times ; and they have
long been laid asleep. A tremendous force was brought
to bear against the Church by the Enghsh deists, and
their successors, the philosophers of France. From the
literature, the elegance, the occasional wit, the numbers
and the skill of these opponents, an undeniable shock
was given to the beHef of thousands, as we may see in
the period anterior to the French Revolution. There
were not wanting men to predict that Christianity would
speedily yield before such talent and daring as those of
Voltaire, Rousseau, Hume, Gibbon, Diderot, and D'Hol-
bach. The work wrought by these fascinating scholars,
in academies, courts and drawing-rooms, was carried on
lower down in society by such men as Paine, in clubs
and pothouses. All these attacks of the eighteenth
century had a common character. Whether sceptical,
deistical, or atheistical, they all belonged to what has
since been known as Rationahsm. All denied the
Bible, and many of them treated it with scorn, sarcasm,
and blasphemy ; all set up human Reason as the sole
origin of Truth on the points in question. Materialists
and immateriaUsts, sober theists and blank atheists,
they agreed in this family likeness. There was no
elevation, or enthusiasm, or mysticism. Every thing
in rehgion was brought to the test of cold calculation.

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. ]^5

The pretence of close logic was never more vaiintingly
put forth. It was by critical dissection and links of
reasoning almost mathematical, that all these mibehevers
midertook to demonstrate the falsity of our alleged
revelation. This was the form of infidehty which pre-
vailed m Prance, Prussia, Scotland, and in certain circles
in America, during the youth of our fathers. It may
be seen in its best colour's in Vohiey and in the letters
of Jefferson. What a sweep it made in Prance, even of
the Romish clergy, is known to all who have ever con-
templated the career of a Talleyrand, a Si^yes, or a
Pouche. Some of the worst of the bloody actors were
unfrocked priests. It was against this fonn of oppo-
sition that Divine Providence called forth such writers
as Watson, Beattie, Campbell, and Robert Hall.* Some
of our most valuable treatises on the Evidences of Chris-
tianity are the fruits of this warfare. Voltaire predicted
that in twenty years Christianity would be extinct, and
Mr. Jefferson seemed to smile in anticipation of an age
in which superstition should be no more. Once in a
while, and generally among the least educated, especially
artisans and operatives who come to us from Great
Britain, we find a knot of antiquated scoffers, who pore
over these exploded books and shed libations upon thc^
carcass of Paine. That grand army is as thoroughly
disbanded as was Napoleon's at Waterloo ; but Clu-is-
tianity still sm-vives, and some of its greatest triumphs

* See Hall's celebrated Sermon on Modern Infidelity.

10 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

have been made since this very epoch. We have beheld,
not the enthroning of the goddess of Reason, but the era
of the Bible Society, of Missions, of mighty Revivals,
and of increased Protestant union. If the citadel of
Christianity is to faU, it must be by other weapons than
those which he black and rusty around the fortification,
like the spiked cannon and stray balls which mark the
spot of former engagements. That campaign of the
antichristian war has reached its close; and he who
would bring forth against us the armament of an age
utterly left behmd, only betrays the simplicity of igno-
rance. But are we, therefore, to conclude that Satan
has desisted from his attempts ? By no means. He
has only availed himself of the pause, to levy forces for
a new campaign, and assault positions heretofore unat-
tempted. And it is a most interesting and needful
inquiry, in what shape the infidel incursion of our own
day is to be expected ; for the whole line of our defences
must be conformable to the dispositions of the enemy.
It is my desire, therefore, to ask your attention to some
characteristics of the infidehty which we have most to
fear for ourselves and our children. And here there is
danger lest we make the field of observation too wide,
and thus content om'selves with a superficial view. We
ought therefore to exclude, however important in their
])lace, all those forms of error which claim for themselves
a part in the church foundation, and which name them-
selves Christian. It is not heresy, however noxious,
which we would now examine, but infidelity. Nor

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

17

must we err so grossly as to assert that all infidels be-
long to a single class. Their name is legion. It has
been admitted that here and there a specimen may be
found of the old-fashioned calculating unbeliever of the
French or Jacobin, that is, the rationalistic school.
Among the remainder there are also various degrees.
No one is ruined all at once. In the awful descent
each apostate finds " beneath the lowest deep a lower
deep ; " and the precise shade of blackness and darkness
wliich we meet in him must depend on the stage of this
downward progress at which we make our observation.
Yet the infidehty of the nineteenth century has charac-
teristics as discernible as that of the eighteenth ; and if
these are occasionally less distinct, it is because the un-
belief of oui' day is forming, but not formed ; the pro-
cess is incomplete ; the development is still going on.
We have to examine tendencies rather than results ; yet
as naturalists can detect the poison fruit even in its
blossom, and the viper in its egs; ; and as the premo-
nitions of the earthquake or volcano give inarticulate
warnings before the earth is cleft and the lava boiling
over, so we have a right to sit in judgment on the falsi-
ties beginning to prevail, even though we know but in
part whereunto they shall grow.

1. The beginnings of this contemporaneous infidelity
were with a show of great learning and science. As-
sumptions of this sort were indeed made by the Ency-
clopedists and French atheists ; but their attainments
were hmitcd and often superficial. Several great sciences,
2

18

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

in their new forms, liave been bom since their day.
We have only to read the " Jew's Letters " to learn the
ignorance of Voltaire as to some of the most ordinary
matters of Biblical science ; and the veriest schoolboy
would scout the claim of probability for Volney. In
our times, if one country more than another has the
boast of learning, it is Germany ; and there, if any-
where, Infidehty has made its wildest ravages. It was
Lessing who led the way in violent warfare against
Christ ; Lessing, the poet, the man of taste, the almost
universal genius. Goethe and Schiller are claimed by
the infidels ; yet the last age has produced no greater
masters of the human heart. The philosophy which
takes its name from Germany, and which has penetrated
France, and entered largely into the public institutions
of America, was born and nurtured and matured in
the bosom of noble universities, founded for the up-
holding of Protestant rehgion. The new sciences have
been invoked to prove the Bible false. Astronomy has
been placed on the rack, to testify that Creation at the
scriptural date is absurd. Geologists, scarcely at the
threshold of their discoveries, unsettled in their very
nomenclatm'e, and unwilling to wait till they can agree
among themselves, have so read the strata of the earth
as to give the lie to the books of Moses. Ethnography
and Ethnology, pujffed up in new-born strength, have ut-
tered oracles showing that the negro and the white man
cannot have had common progenitors. All have boasted
superior letters and philosophy. But above all, the

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. jg

metaphysical reasoners, one after another, have, spider-
Uke, spun a thread out of then* bowels, wherewith to
entangle and crush the doctrines of the Gospel. With
a show of emdition and acumen never surpassed, one of
the most prominent infidel theologians of Germany ut-
tered a " Life of Jesus," undertaking to show that all
the mu'aculous histories and most of the ordinary narra-
tives in om* fom* Gospels are poetic figments, mythic
fables, innocent or heated inventions, hke the stoiy of
the labours of Hercules, or the nm'sery legend of Jack
Frost ; pleasant personifications and instructive apo-
logues, with scarce a Hue of real fact at the bottom.
Whole libraries have been ransacked to give basis to
tliis absurd structm'e, the mere statement of which ought
to be its confutation. Let it be my apology for alluding
to this poisonous book of Dr. Strauss, to say that it is
circulated in English in many editions, and that it has,
to my knowledge, entered the house of one of om' own
persuasion, and pen erted the soul of one trained under
the truth. Om* popular literary men have in some
cases drimk this poison. Certain portions of the Uni-
tarian body, unable to keep foothold on the narrow
edge between their attenuated Clmstianity and Deism,
have cast themselves into the gulf of Germanism. If
you would know what I mean, consider the teachings
of Theodore Parker, Emerson, and their confederates.
Tliis is, as you perceive, no longer the vulgar infidehty
of the last age ; but it is not less destructive.

2. The Infidelity of our age affects to be religious.

20 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

This could hardly be said of that which prevailed before.
The attempt was, in most, to scout every thing like de-
votion, enthusiasm, or inward affection, as superstitious.
It was found that this was first impolitic, and then im-
possible. It was found that man as a religious being
nuist have some outlet for the spiritual sentiments, and
u'ould make religions for himself, such as the French
Theophilanthropism, or betake himself to the beautiful
idolatries of Greece, as both Gibbon and Schiller seemed
half disposed to do. It was found that man, despoiled
of all the religious emotions, became a Marat or a Paine,
a tiger or a swine. It was necessary therefore for the
arch-enemy to remodel his devices, and bring in a reli-
gion which was better than that of the Bible. This, my
brethren, this above all things else, is the grand charac-
teristic of infidelity, in its present most dangerous fonn.
Your sons and your daughters may be breathing , the
fatal chlorofonn of German transcendentahsm, when
they seem to themselves surrounded by the famihar air of
Christianity. They may hear much from popular lectur-
ers of the ideal, the spiritual, the divine, even of God in-
carnate in humanity, of resurrection, of faith, of Christ
himself, when the subtle deceiver, annexing to these
terms his own antichristian meanings, is slowly and de-
liciously, but surely and fatally charming from them all
that can renew and save the soul. Most of all danger-
ous is our spiritual enemy when he thus transforms
himself into an angel of light.

You have need to be warned against tliis new form

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 21

of error, because it employs almost every term of theolo-
gy and experience in a false and deceptive sense, often
applying the most sacred w^ords of gracious truth to
matters of literature, scenery, the fine arts, love, and alas,
even to sinfid indulgence. Some of the foremost poets
of our day are chargeable with these insidious tactics ;
so that a father has need to look well to the books
which lie upon his daughter's table, as splendid presen-
tation copies. I do not mean merely the avowed
Atheist and convicted blasphemer, Shelley, who ma-
ligned Jesus and argued against marriage ; but many
seemingly pm'e and undoubtedly gifted authors, who
sing beautifully of Nature and of God. And here we
nmst remark, that Avhilc under the former phase of Infi-
delity, nuich was said of Nature, under its present phase
as much is said of God. Yet be not deceived, my
brethren. If frequent repetition of the Sacred Name
could sanctify a cause, theirs woidd be hallowed indeed.
But their God is not our God ; not the God and Father
of the Lord Jesus Christ; not the God of the Saints;
not even a personal God. With many varieties of ex-
pression, and many modes of veiling their horrid piu*-
pose, their inward thought is to remove all that we mean
by God. The more they talk of God, the less they be-
lieve in him. In their disguised atheism the term im-
plies the siun of all things, or the everlasthigly imfold-
ing process of causes, or the universal Reason, as exist-
ing in all minds. Sometimes, in their glorification of
humanity, they utter the scriptm-al plu-ase, God is man;

22 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

but their inward meaning is tliat man is God. Man is
the object of their adoration. The highest manifestation
of God, say they, is in the human mind. This they
dishonestly name, at times, the Incarnation. Indeed,
there is scarcely a precious term in the vocabulary of
grace, which they have not stolen and defiled by their
abominable prostitution. This is the form of atheism
which now threatens the world, and which has been
called Pantheism. Few have gone the length of hold-
ing the system in all its parts ; many differ as to minute
tenets and explanations ; but towards this vortex all the
popular and poetical unbeliefs of the age are rolling
themselves. This maelstrom has already sucked in and
engulfed several sickly and half-living heresies, among
the rest a goodly portion of the Socinians. The bloodless
humanitarianism of Priestley and Belsham was too cold,
too reasoning, too deathlike ; their churches were too
sombre and empty ; their very ministers could not be kept
from becoming authors, statesmen, or diplomatic agents ;
their creed was too near Deism. This was discovered
by many of the shrewder sort. Hence the new method of
reconciling opposites which had been discovered in Ger-
many was seized with avidity ; and from this arises the
modern philosophical, poetical, pantheistical Christian.
For a reason above given, such a one may, by dexterous
use of scriptm'al terms, give his discourses a sound
which is all but orthodox. But the more sober and
rational Unitarian abhors these extravagances scarcely
ess than we. Never before has the world seen so large

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 23

a body of infidels, really denying every thing like a
proper revelation, yet full of great swelling words about
the Spirit, the God of History, the union of Virtue and
Beauty, and the excellence of Religion.

3. The Infidelity of our age connects itself with
freedom and social progress. So far as the infidelity of
France was a reaction against hierarchy and the pope,
it had the same colours. Hence the very men who
mm-dered the priesthood in the September massacres,
were loud in cries of hberty, equality, and fraternity.
But tliis policy of modern mibelief is much more boldly
marked. Hence the cry, on every side, that Chris-
tianity is a failure ; that the Church has not made men
happy ; that whatever good the Bible has accomplished,
its work is done, and we must have something better.
It is a part of this scheme to glory in humanity as such;
to assert the independence and self-sufficiency of man ;
to deify the creatm'e, and pushing the rights of man to
a Jacobinical and impracticable extreme, to instal lawless
Freedom in the pulpit. There is something so attach-
ing and gracious in the first aspect of a levelling system,
that any scheme of this kind gains multitudes of con-
verts among the oppressed, the sufi'ering, the discon-
tented, the aspiring, and the greedy. Even in our own
free commonwealth, where eveiy man who deserves to
rise may succeed in it, so far as outward restrictions
are concerned, there begins to be more and more eveiy
year, a half-suppressed hum and murmur among certani
large classes ; as if all ranks must be brought to a com-

24 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

tnon level ; as if the capitalist and the transient worker
must share alike ; as if the accumulations of industry
must become a spoil for tlie idlest ; as if labour with
the hands were the only title to enjoyment. This being
openly and diametrically opposed to the letter of Scrip-
ture, these teachers, however they may begin, are prett}'
sure to end in discovering that the Bible is false. Thus,
strange as it may seem, philanthropy, unsanctified, may
lead unsound minds to unbelief ; and there are no more
reckless and bitter opponents of Christianity than a
number of writers, lecturers, and editors, whom we
once knew or heard of as ministers of Jesus Christ.
The truth, however, must be told : just as with Euro-
pean grain we have brought into our fields the weeds
of agriculture, so with the unheard-of emigration from
foreign comitries, we have imported infidel socialism
and communism. It is no longer the books and argu-
ments of false teachers, only, we have the men them-
selves, the ready-made disciples, clamouring in our
public assemblies, and inflaming a peaceful . population
from the press. I leave, as not pertaining to the pul-
pit, the question how far this influx from corrupt
sources may be expected to modify our political institu-
tions.

The device of Satan is most apparent in all this.
The excesses towards which infidelity drives, are coun-
terfeits and caricatures of the very blessings which we
owe to true religion. For, is not Christianity the reli-
gion of the poor and the oppressed? Is it not the

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 25

religion of philantliropy ? Does it not teacli the com-
mon origin and spiritual equality of all men, in tlie sight
of God ? Does it not seek, and at the safest moment
procure, human freedom and social rights ? Must it
not be named pre-eminently the system of true progress ?
Yea, yea, in despite of Ganison and Proudhon, forever
yea. But when God has launched his vessel, infidelity
would board and master it, and, tearing its noble tim-
bers apart, would frame a thousand fantastic and
perishable rafts out of the dismembered hulk. Nay,
circhng around the ancient ship, she Avould claim for
her crazy floats, of stolen material, all the safety and all
the glory of the original structure. The press of the
day, deeply surrendered to the half-religions and mock-
religions of the time, is ever and anon jeering at the
Church and at Christianity, as not doing so much for
mankind as these reformers would do, as jacobinism
would do, as common property and unmarried alliance
would do. Thus antediluvians laughed at the Ark.
Hiding fi'om view the fact that whatever philanthropy
irrigates the desert of humanity, is the product of this
very Church and this very Christianity. They calumni-
ate the moimtain spring, and claim all its flowing lakes
and rivers as their own. But you will agree with me,
that the prevalent infidehty assiunes to be the benefactor
of mankind.

4. The infidelity of our time is extending itself
among the less cultivated classes. Begun in learning,
it was almost proverbial in ancient times that Chris-

26 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

tianity was gladly received by the poor, wliile it was
rejected by the learned. Something of this was true
a century ago. The virus of Prench unbehef was gene-
rated among scholars, and fomented in courts and
academies. Dming the progress of the anarchy which
preceded Napoleon, the leading spirits were men of
education ; the brutal masses, it is true, maddened by
long oppression, feverish with the thirst of freedom, and
confounding Christianity \\ith the despotism of the
priesthood and the confessional, abjured the Redeemer,
and well-nigh offered up the idea of God. This was more
from false political notions however, than from any de-
liberate theory of religious unbelief. And when Deism,
or, perhaps. Atheism, came over sea into many minds
in America, it was principally among speculative men,
who aspired to be philosophers. But our own day has
seen a very great increase of this tendency in anti-
christian systems to popularize themselves. The most
capable observers tell us concerning Germany, for ex-
ample, that the language of unbelief and blasphemy is
no longer confined to the schools and universities where
it hngered long. The upland waters have broken them-
selves away, and are flooding the champaign. There
is reason to fear that in central and northern Em^ope
the masses of the people are rapidly becoming corrupt
in regard to the essentials of religion. In lands where
it is difficult to find a boy or a girl who cannot read,
thousands and myriads are growing up to neglect all
public worship and all private prayer. I grieve to say

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

27

it — but a great number of the foreigners who emigrate
to America are grossly infidel. It is the solemn and
son'owfiil testimony of most respected clergymen of
their own race. It is attested by the radical, and often
anticluistian avowals of the numerous newspapers pub-
lished among us in that language. Nor is the evil
confined to one country. The contagion has spread
widely among the working-classes of Great Britain,
many of whom bring over their scepticism or theii- im-
piety. It may be safely asserted, that wherever we find
a club, society or institute openly and loudly infidel,
we may detect a large infusion of transatlantic people.
Yet we must not flatter oiu-selves that oiu' native popu-
lation, especially in cities and large towns, enjoys an
exemption. While the great body, through Divine fa-
vour, remains untouched, the new generation has many
growing up without any Sabbath, indiff'erent to public
worship, schooled without the Bible, a ready prey to
false religionists in the first place, and thus prepared to
take the further step into denial of all revelation. The
means of grace do not any longer reach our population
in its length and breadth. Chm-ches rise in great num-
bers, where the truth is preached and honoured; but
other places of religious teaching, in equal numbers,
draw crowds into Universalism, Socinianism, enthusi-
astic and fanatical heats, and insane pretensions to
mysterious influence and spiritual revelation. And
then, what numbers in civic populations frequent no
house of worship ! A late Avriter, of much obsen'ation

28 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

and detail, speaking of the street-people of London, as-
sures us tliat thirty thousand of this single class never
enter any place of religious instruction. We have not
reached this extreme ; but are we not on the way ? It
is matter of observation, that our churches are generally
filled with at least well-doing people. But where are
the vastly greater numbers of those who still more need
the consolations of the gospel ? I bring no charges,
bretlu^en ; indeed, I have the sickening faintness of one
who beholds a great malady, but is not prepared to an-
nounce a specific remedy ; revived Christianity being
the only real cure. Por my present argument, it is
enough to point to this state of things, obviously in-
creasing, as a proof that the modern irreligion is widely
prevalent among the humbler portions of society.

5. The Infidelity of our times is strikingly immoral
in its tendency. All falsehood in religion is by its very
nature opposed to virtue ; but in varying degrees, ac-
cording to the presence or absence, and according to
the degree, of the causes already enumerated. Satan
does not always display the cloven foot. The minister
of darkness does not at once disclose himself in the
colours of the pit. It is the pohcy of unbelief, while
working its way upward into public favour, to assume
the garb of purity. Hence, there have been many
avowed infidels who, out of the very pride of sect, have
led lives of scrupulous outward virtue. Lord Herbert
of Cherbury is not the only Deist who has seemed to
outshine many a Christian professor. But in om* day,

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. £9

the evil tree is hnng all over with its proper loathsome
fruit. The prevailing fonns of unbelief in revelation
are accompanied with manifest deterioration of morals.
When men begin to go astray in conduct, and to in-
dulge any great vice, they gladly embrace such errors
as may stupefy conscience, and so enable them to sin
unchecked. And then, the effect in turn becomes a
cause ; and by an inverse action the falsehood breeds
irregularity and crime. Go where you will, among
families, neighbourhoods or communities, where there
has been shipwreck made of faith, and you observe a
correspondent injury of the moral sense. It is almost
an unfailing index of the modern infidel, that he in-
veighs against the perpetuity and sanctity of marriage.
By an easy process, the sanctions of property are worn
away. Inoculate any large class with antichristian
opinions, and the contagious influence becomes horridly
rife. An angry, relentless spirit of discontent, mutual
distrust, lust of change, revolutionary fire, and general
disquiet, plays on the features and inflames the lan-
guage. The great and invaluable gift of freedom fur-
nishes no safeguard here, unless it be coupled with true
rehgion. Freedom is only a condition, under which
men's principles act. If those principles are destruc-
tive, freedom is but an open door to ruin. The abso-
lute freedom of a thoroughly immoral people, " hateful
and hating one another," would be nothing short of
hell. Indeed, the instinct of self-preservation docs not
allow men to remain long in any state approaching this ;

30 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

for, in dread of one another, they are fain to take refuge
under the protective shadow of mihtary domination or
imperial tp'anny.

Blessed be God, the rehgion which fled to this new
world for an asylum is still spared to us ; and there
are wide agricultural districts which have not been
reached by more than the rumour of philosophic infideh-
ty and disorganizing wrong. Yet, so far as this religious
guard has been impaired, the consequence has been a
relaxation of public morals.

It is not perfectly easy to declare, how far we may
trace to this source the increase of crime, which is mat-
ter of every-day complaint. Some think that breaches
of mercantile confidence are less rare than fifty years
ago. The journals of every morning familiarize us to
the record of murder. And suicide, the special crime
of those who deny a futm^e retribution, is committed
with a frequency which often robs the gibbet of its
prey. I might note other crimes, but your memory
and observation will supply what it might be inconve-
nient to describe fi'om this place. It admits no denial,
that while individual exceptions occur, the usual result
of disbelief in the Evangelical Scriptm-es, is an open
declension of morality, and that this result is especially
remarkable at present.

II. In the opening of these remarks it was ad-
mitted that the period of Infidelity in which we are
living has not reached its term, and that to judge it

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 3^

fully we must wait till the causes now in action shall
have worked out theu' full results. Tor there is a growth
in opinion as truly as in the rise, progi'ess and end of a
human being ; and though in both cases there may be
further consequences, it is rather by lineal descent than
by the continuance of individual hfe. There is, more-
over, a wide extent in the prevalence of great falsehoods.
Beginning in one corner of the world, they spread them-
selves from countiy to country ; and just as the harvest
comes at a different month in Canada, in Maryland, and
in Mississippi, so the full crop of infideUty is not seen
at one and the same time in all lands. In some it has
begun to scatter its narcotic seeds, while in others there
is but the tender blade emerging from the furrow ; but
this very gradation enables us to study the character of
the growth. If in certain places we find the mature
plant, with its poisonous juices thoroughly concocted,
we thereby learn what we may expect from the yomig
and perhaps attractive flower which blooms among our-
selves. There are countries where infideUty may be
said to have run its race and displayed aU its stages of
insidious promise and eventual desolation. Such was
France under the Revolution. There are others in which
it is only beginning. Dreadful as it is, it is nevertheless
true, that the presses of New York and Philadelphia
have issued thousands of copies of the last century's
infidehty, in the works of Voltaire, Volney, Rousseau,
and Paine, in Spanish translations for the South Amer-
ican market. And, as if the malignity of Satan could

32 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

have no rest, some of these same books have been labo-
riously and widely circulated in the native languages of
the East Indies, to corrupt the ignorant and besotted
Hindoo, and to close his mind against the gospel.
Such states of opinion are widely different from that
which exists among ourselves, as indeed our own state
differs from that of some European nations, where
vaster strides have been made towards the denial of all
moral distinctions and of God himself. Thus the
giant pestilence of our day, which circumnavigated the
globe, began in Asia and traversed Europe before it
showed its ghastly visage on our western shores twenty
years ago. But this gradual accession of the plague
allowed and encouraged medical skill to examine the
nature of the disease long before the treatment of it
became a practical question. We have been consider-
ing a more fatal malady which is traversing the earth,
and of which the symptoms are not deathly coldness and
spasms of bodily pain, but mental delusion, palsied con-
science, and a heart ossified by godless falsehood. We
have seen it seizing men of learning, taste and civiliza-
tion, and then stealing like an infection into the crowded
haunts of labour and the hovels of want. We have de-
scried in it a type differing from the infidel deceptions
of a former generation. We are old enough to remem-
ber its beginnings under this new form among our-
selves ; and we open our eyes to its more consmnmate
virulence in countries where it has more deeply corroded
the vitals of Clu"istianity. We are alarmed at daily in-

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

33

dications of its stealtliy but effectual expansion in the
literature and society around oiu' doors. We begin to
tremble for our cliildren and successors. Unless the
whole picture has been overcharged, we read in all this
a lesson, which may cast a sober hue over the thoughts
of even the most selfish and worldly.

1. We are loudly admonished to be on our guard.
When pestilence is in the air, wise householders look
weU to the symptoms of then- famdy. "VA^ien enemies
are in a land, true generalship throws out its parties of
reconnaissance, and keeps a sharp eye on every suspicious
wayfarer and every sign of treacheiy and ambush.
When the freedom of a kingdom is endangered, patriots
are awake to every sign of increased power. These are
not tremors of cowardice, but salutary precautions of pru-
dence and benevolence. It is because we are not igno-
rant of Satan's devices, that we maintain an equal vigi-
lance against our spiritual adversaries. Snares are
haiTnless Avhen discovered, and "in vain is the net
spread in the sight of any bud."

But it is not enough to be aware of danger in general ;
we must know from what quarter and in what particular
form to expect it. If infidelity made its first demon-
strations in all the dark and bloody colom's of dowairight
atheism and licentiousness, it would never show a con-
vert. It is the very insidiousness of the approach wliich
magnifies our perd. Hence our first duty is to know
the enemy, and if possible to know his most covert ad-
vances. We must learn to puU off masks and see
3

34 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

through disguises, to distrust honeyed words, and fear
our foes even when they come bearing gifts. This im-
phes a sufficient acquaintance with the whole system of
positive truth to know when any part of it is attacked,
and then information as to the ways in which those at-
tacks are hkely to be made. Among the multitude of
books, pubhcjomiials, orations, lectures, sermons, poems,
and common talk, in which we live, there are every day
some which propose antichristian opinions. As truth
is one and en'or manifold, no human faculty can fore-
see the precise mode in which falsehood wiU be pre-
sented by a wily foe ; and therefore the grand safeguard,
as we shaU see, is a knowledge of the truth. But sub-
sidiary to this is a watchful scrutiny of every principle
which assaults or midermines any particular doctrine of
God. These false teachings often begin far away from
the point at which they really aim ; but such is the
contexture and harmony of the Divine system, that it
begins to give way upon the surrender of any leading
propositions. Those WTetched persons who, from being
speculative Christians, have become atheists, arrived at
this catastrophe by a series of acts. Nemo repente fidt
turpissmus. Hence the need of watching the earliest,
shghtest symptoms of the disease. Our danger is all
the greater in proportion as we have allowed the close
and thorough rehgious instruction of households to fall
into desuetude. There are many among us who read
abundance of books, but among them so little of Chris-
tian theology, that they do not even recognise the deadly

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 35

sentiments of the worst systems, if offered to tliem with
prettincss of diction, cant phrases, pretension to phi-
losophy, and the romided voice of a popular lecturer.

The devices of falsehood are Protean. Let me cull
out of a wide field of tares a handful for a sample. And
for reasons akeady given we must include errors ^vhich
echo from pulpits as well as from hberal clubs. Be on
your guard then, brethi'en, against the doctrine of man's
iiTesponsibihty for his belief. As soon as you have
opened yom* mind to this pregnant tenet, you have ad-
mitted Avithin yom' walls a Trojan horse, fraught with
enemies to consume both hearth and altar. For such
is the blmding influence of sin, that you have only to
make a man wicked enough, to make him capable
of behoving any thing, even that there is no harm in
murder and voluptuousness, or that there is no God.
Yet this is a popular doctrine of the age, the entering
wedge which shall rend the entii'e evangelical fabric.
Keep a watch against the absm*d dogma, that man is
the creature of cii'cumstances ; so that every human
soul is in opinion and character just what the things
ai'ound him necessitate him to be, and hence not re-
sponsible for the vileness or the crime which he could
by no possibility prevent or remove. In this article
of ciuTcnt unbelief, we have fatalism with a vengeance.

Shim, as you woidd sugared arsenic, the slightest
suggestion that there are no essential moral distinctions.
Your arch-poisoner is too crafty to teU you outright that
there is no difference between right and wrong. But

36 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

he will sweeten the cup of death with such forms as
these, that Virtue has no essence but its tendency to
promote happiness ; or that sin is a very different affair
when viewed from the side of man and from the side of
God ; or that God can no more make a universe without
sin, than two mountains vvdthout a valley between ; or
that vice is no otherwise vice than as it is judged such
by the conscience. Though the unsuspecting youth
often receives these, from incapacity to reason far
enough, he is actually preparing himself for the denial
of eternal morality.

Recognise yom^ antichristian enemy, though in gown
and bands, when he whispers to you that there is no
punishment after death, a doctrine which is spreading
like a contagion in city and country. We may trace to
it the relaxed morals of millions, and the manifest in-
crease of self-murder, since many a villain would fly to
the rope if he were delivered from the dread of a here-
after.

Guard your soul against the fallacy that there are
no mysteries in religion, or that no man can believe
what is above his understanding; In another place, it
miglit be proved that this is as contrary to philosophy
as to religion; but here we are simply denouncing
traitors in our camp.

Above all, fix your eye with detestation on every at-
tempt to deny or impair the Inspiration of the Scrip-
tures. This it is, in which all schools of infidelity, an-
cient and modern, join hands. So long as a man admits

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 3^

the plenary inspiration of these books, we have some
ground common to us and hhn, and some admitted me-
dium of proof ; and even though he be in grievous eiTor,
Ave may hope to reclaim him. He may be a Papist, but
so was Martin Luther; he may be a Socinian, so was
Thomas Scott. While a man listens to God speaking in
this Word, the case is not desperate. But how can we
argue from Scripture with one who holds only so much
of Scriptm-e to be authoritative as he could have dis-
covered himself, who selects the parts which he shall
reject as fable, and who is a Scripture to himself?
"When these, or any of these, or any like these, present
themselves for your behef, know ye, that your enemy is
at yom* door ; be on your guard, and be not ignorant
of his devices.

2. The existence of such snares should urge us to
seek protection against the invasion of falsehood. It is
not enough to know om' enemy even in his feints and
subterfuges ; to this we must add positive means to escape
from his devices. All these means come at last to a
single one, behef of the truth. This, being the exact
opposite of Infidelity, is incompatible with it, and ex-
clusive of it. Large and intimate knowledge of divine
verities, and strong faith in the same, are the only pro-
tection ; and this is infallible and sovereign, which ought
to be comforting to those overtasked, feeble, or unlet-
tered disciples, who cannot read many books, and who
might otherwise be confounded at the sight of an enemy
spread on eveiy side, changmg his martial columns at

38 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

every instant, and seeking entrance at every avenue.
Thanks be to God ! in order to be an instructed and
firm Christian, it is not necessary to answer all the ob-
jections of the freethinker, or even to know them. You
are not required to soar into the metaphysic of Hegel,
or plunge into the sty of Epicurus. Divine Truth is
its own defence. Its system is so compact, ordered,
symmetrical and harmonious, that it proves itself ; and
the more you learn of it, the more you find each por-
tion demonstrative of every other. " He that beheveth
hath the witness in himself." But for this, the hum-
ble, unschooled believer would be left to the imphcit
faith of the Papist, for it is obvious he could not
traverse the encyclopedia of scientific evidence. The
engines of defence are sublime and impregnable, and
have proved mighty in the hands of teachers and learn-
ed champions, to stop the mouths of adversaries. But
they are not indispensable to the private Christian. His
demonstration lies nearer home. Cowper felt tliis, when
he contrasted Voltaire with the pious lace-weaver, a
happy, humble woman, who

" Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true,
" A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew."

The divine method of arming the soul against sceptical
attacks, is to shed into it behef of the revealed word by
the Holy Ghost sent do-wn from heaven. This is ac-
complished every day in those who never so much as

OUR MODERJf UNBELIEF.

39

spelled out tlie names of the great unbelieving autliors.
Indeed, even in the case of accomplished theologians,
who are called professionally, and often with great pain
to themselves, to tmii over volumes of sophism and im-
piety, in order to frame a reply, the solid confidence of
which they are conscious is not founded so much on
these replies, as on that inward demonstration of the
Spirit which is common to them and the most unlettered
hind. Every experienced Christian has proofs of the
truth of Christianity, which no external science can
shake. He is more sm'e that this Bible is the very word
of his redeeming God and Father, than he ever can be
that such or such an assertion of Geology or Astronomy
is true. And to this interior citadel he conthmally re-
sorts, under all the temporary shocks produced by the
ever changing tactics of infidel discovery. The same is
true of objections founded on doctrinal difficulties, on
Scriptural interpretation, on alleged absurdities or con-
tradictions in the revealed Word. His conviction and
assurance of the great mass of divine truth is such, that
he can wait for the resolution of particular doubts, as
being certain that they admit a solution e^^en if un-
known to him. True piety teaches him, as clearly as
does true philosophy, to acquiesce in that golden maxim
of all healthy minds, not to let doubts about what is
difficult distm-b his belief of what is plain. Some
indentations of the coast he may never have sm-veyed,
he may have found them laid down on no chart ; but
those great hghts and forelands \vhich have guided all

40 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

his voyage, lie will not surrender or deny, because they
cannot be descried through the clouded glass of the
scoffer. Such is the protective power of faith under in-
fidel assault.

Confirmation of this is afforded by a fact, known to
all who are familiar with conversions of unbelievers, that
these transformations are not commonly wrought by the
slow process of taking down the infidel stnicture doubt
by doubt, and building in its stead the Christian structure
proof by proof ; but that the scoffer is pierced by con-
viction of his guilt, like any common sinner, and led to
the Lord Jesus Christ in childlike faith. It is often
long before his doubts, in their entire series, are sever-
ally resolved, but the blow has been struck which pros-
trates the capital unbelief of the heart.

A deep and thorough acquaintance, therefore, with
the positive truth of Scripture, followed by cordial and
evangelical acceptance of it, is the sure bulwark against
the operations of antichristian error on our own hearts.

There are, however, as was suggested before, some
subordinate precautions to be observed. If it is neces-
sary to have the mind possessed by the truth, it is all-
important for this end to shut out the inroads of error.
There is such a thing as foolhardy adventure into an
enemy's country. Religious falsehood sometimes comes
in such a shape as to stimulate the curiosity of the un-
wary, as the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge tempted
Eve. Sometimes it is the vehicle which is attractive.
It may be elegant style, it may be romance, it may be

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. ^j

closely-knit argumentation, it may be popular eloquence.
The union of several such fascinations may invite the
youthful student to taste the poisonous clusters, and ac-
quire the taste for doubts and cavils. The most seduc-
tive and cunning argument against futm^e retribution,
which om' age has produced, is contained in a poem of
high talent, which you will find in eveiy shop. The
name and fame of some great heretical preacher, or some
orator who delivers infidel sermons under the guise of lec-
tures to the people, summon numbers of half -instructed
people, who admire and acquiesce, and go again, not
knowing, in their simplicity, that the new doctrines which
they drink in will presently unsettle all the rehgious belief
of then* childhood. Happier far is the faith of the vulgar,
than hterary advancement, bought at such a price. It is
a plain maxim of common sense, not to tamper with infec-
tion ; and he is a fool who, for the mere sake of proving his
boldness and freedom from bigotry, rushes uncalled into
the miasmatic influence of false teaching. " Cease, my
son," says the wise man, " to hear the instruction that
causeth to err from the words of knowledge." Prov. xix.
27. "Take heed," said Incarnate Wisdom, "what ye
hear." The caution which is good for yourself, is good for
vom' children and dependents. A little mineral admixtiu-e
in their daily bread, a little morbific quality in their daily
milk, would be justly dreaded, as tendmg to wear away the
health ; yet the daily jom'nal enters your doors, distUhng
by little and little false, latitudinarian and radical opinions.
No marvel if you find your old age sun-ounded by sons

42 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

who have made shipwreck of the faith. Christian parents
and teachers, it is impossible to watch too afiPectionately
the hteratm'e which comes into the hands of the young.
If you desire them to be guarded and manly Christians,
their pabulum must be truth. It is as certain of the
mind as of the body, that whatsoever is taken into it
should tend directly to its growth or strength ; all that
is otherwise, is noxious. Nutrition, moreover, is a grad-
ual process, the result of repeated acts. If, then, the
mind and character are to make progress, and acquii'e
firmness, there must be not slight and occasional, but
regular and extensive study of God's revealed will. Nor
is there a household among us which does not need
reformation in this particular. Thus, by promoting
knowledge of truth, and discouraging familiarity wdth
falsehood, we may, under God's blessing, do much to
protect om'selves against abounding infidelity.

3. In such a time of prevailing error, it becomes us
to prevent its diffusion in society. Let me not be con-
sidered an alarmist. There are ten thousand good
things of which we are altogether undeserving, and for
which we ought to be giving thanks ; and among these
we must reckon numberless Christian churches, com-
prising a host of God's people. Yet I tell you no new
thing, my hearers, when I repeat that there is a mixed
multitude, especially in our towns, who have made
terms with the enemy and sacrificed their faith. If
frank Deists and open-mouthed Atheists are less com-
mon than they were about the beginning of the century ;

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 43

if, as is undeniable, it is disreputalile for a man to attend
no place of worship ; if society slmdders when one dis-
tinctly condemns or ridicnles the Bible ; it is still true
that disbelief in revelation prevails among a large part
of our people, including men of letters and science, jour-
nalists and authors. And the danger is not lessened
but much increased, when such persons, by a new de-
vice of Satan, profess to war by our side under the
standards of Christianity, and even affect to preach
that Jesus whom they disbelieve and despoil of all his
glory. Nay more, few who have not made the inquiry
a special business, have any adequate conception how
many of another class are professed sceptics or real in-
fidels ; how many cherish a low and brutal materialism
and atheism under some names of social reform ; how
many associations and meetings for debate are kept up
by these so-called liberals ; how many cheap volumes go
to swell the black sewers of this underground torrent ;
and how many newspapers, in German as well as Eng-
lish, are more or less characterized by abuse of the
church, the ministr}'", and the Bible. Various methods
may be proposed for stemming, averting and drying up
this river of death, and no one of them is to be regarded
with coldness. But after all, the great method, in ac-
cordance with principles akeady laid domi, is to preach
the gospel and gather the church. Other means, mth
incidental benefit no doubt, tend to diffuse themselves,
and to be lost by too wide dispersion. The evangehc
method tends to pennanency and settlement. Every

44 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

missionaiy effort, rightly conducted, fixes a centre,
plants a standard, designates a rallying-point, draws in
one and another, and at length a group, a society, a
multitude, builds on a foundation, and binds together
in a structure which shall abide. Every single church
gathered in the truth and moved by the Spirit, is a
permanent and energetic organ for the destruction of
infidelity aromid it. Especially true is this among the
more rude and ignorant, to whom the preacher's voice
is the instrument of instruction in divine truth, in place
of printed books, reviews, magazines and religious
newspapers. One bold and sustained effort to keep up
gospel means at a fixed point, though among the worst
dens of a great city or subm'b, shall do more to root out
impious unbelief in its precincts, than a thousand ran-
dom assaults on the individuals who are misled and
corrupted. Such has been the experience of all who
thus laboured in the mighty work under Wliitefield and
Wesley. This is our chief hope for populations like our
own. A single good beginning, in a small circle, does
a certain amount of this warfare against error, by estab-
lishing a lasting spring-head of truth and grace. But
let these isolated posts become only numerous enough,
and the widening cii'cle of one wiU. touch the viddening
circle of another, tUl whole districts wiU be so far occu-
pied, that the unconquered interstices will be absorbed,
just as the clearings of the new comitries, at first mere
patches in the forest, few and far between, grow and
multiply and touch one another, and coalesce into the

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF.

45

wide continuous civilization of agricultural territories
and states. We find, therefore, in the prevalence of in-
fidelity a new motive to attempt gospel effort. Even
the freethinking and unbelief of the educated and taste-
ful will feel the impression of a wide-spread piety among
the masses. Precisely in the way which has been indi-
cated did Christianity make its conquest of Gentilism
in early times. Precisely in this way was the Reforma-
tion extended among our forefathers.

But you need not be told, brethren, that Chiistians
possess other weapons for the demolition of Infidelity.
The invention of printing has endowed the silent volume
with a voice which is heard not only by the assemblage
of a single edifice, but by tens of thousands at once.
And when w^e allude to books against atheism, deism,
and all varieties of unbelief, we cannot refrain from
naming one which ought to be knowm and circulated.
It has converted more opposers than any other ; it an-
swers every coimter argument, and displays the entu'e
force of Clu'istianity. I have it here ; it is the Bible.
Safely may it be said, that the best possible way to be
reclaimed from doubt and persuaded of divine certain-
ties, is to give a serious and candid perusal to this
portable volume ; just as the surest mode of being
aware of light is to open the eyes upon the sun. The
devil, among his arsenal of devices, has this for a mas-
terpiece, to abstract, close, lock up, forbid, exterminate
the Bible. Sometimes under a red cap of anarchy, and
sometimes under a black cowl, he steals away or teai*s

46 0^^ MODERN UNBELIEF.

away the sacred Scriptures, from nations, from schools,
fi'om individual readers; but we are not ignorant of
his devices. Let infidelity and superstition and hierar-
chy, change their tune at pleasure from wheedhng to
fury, we will clasp this book to our hearts, we will send
it to om- neighbom\ We will multiply and cheapen
copies ; we will translate them into every tongue ; we
will despatch them on the wings of every commerce ;
we will carry them as angels of salvation into every
willing house. Yea, " this will we do if God permit ! "
And so doing, " we will not fear, though the earth be
removed and though the mountains be carried into the
midst of the sea. There is a river, the streams whereof
shall make glad the city of God."

Yet, churches and Bibles depend for then* efficacy on
the dhect influences of the Holy Spirit, an agency
which it is part of the reigning infidelity to disbelieve,
but for which we will pray, as the chief hope of our sal-
vation. Wlio can tell how far the revolutionary atheism
of Prance might have become the established ii'religion
of America, if it had not pleased God to make om*
comitry the theatre of mighty and extensive revivals ?
Perhaps I addi*ess some who love to recaU these awaken-
ings, as the scenes in which they were made to know
Christ. Such will join in testifying, that the pro-
gress of convincing and converting grace did not wait
for the tedious preparative of philosophic reply and
formal argument, but went forth to consume at once
and forever the difficidtics of the sceptic and the cavils of

OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 47

the deist, as the flame of a conflagration reduces com-
bustible obstacles in its rapid and blazing career. AU
other means together will not do so much to rid our
land of antichiistian scoffing, as would one general com-
munication of power from on high. Increased prayer
for this fresh dispensation is the duty of the Church.
This is the defensive means which Satan and his hosts
di'cad, while they cannot emulate. They can blas-
pheme, they can argue, they can fight, they can -vvrite
books, and, if need be, quote Scripture for theii' pur-
pose; but pray they cannot. Our word should be,
" Let God arise, let his enemies be scattered ; let them
also that hate him, flee before him." Ps. Ixviii. 1. The
more we recognise the devices of the enemy, the more
should we gather around the footstool of Him who will
shortly bruise Satan under our feet. " In meekness,
instructing those that oppose themselves ; if God, per-
adventure, wHl give them repentance to the acknow-
ledgment of the truth; and that they may recover
themselves out of the snare of the devil, who are taken
captive by him at his will."

II.

THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HAKMONY.

THE

DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY.*

2 Tm. ii. 19.
"He cannot deny himself."

It is of God that tliese words are spoken; and
they constitute one of those divine maxims which he
among the very foundations of truth, and are fitted to
be our guide and corrective in every part of theology.
The apostle Paul argues, that however we may disbe-
lieve, God remains faithful, because he cannot deny him-
self, that is, he cannot be untrue to his own nature.
This seems plain enough at the first statement, needing
no demonstration, a self-evident proposition, almost a
truism ; yet it admits of being pondered over and un-
folded ; and it is the more needful to enlarge upon it,

* New York, December lY, 1848.

52 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY.

because in many of its practical applications it is con-
stantly denied.

The Being and Attributes of God are the basis of
all theology. We can never be right on lesser points,
when we are wrong here. This makes it greatly im-
portant for us to have some clear and settled belief re-
specting Him whom we worship. Every religious error
may be traced up more or less directly to some miscon-
ception and mibelief respecting the character of God.
And we need the less marvel at the prevalence of such
errors, when we consider how few deliberately and lov-
ingly think of God at aU, and how even the best and
holiest of men faint in their contemplations, finding it
easier to study creatures than the Creator ; which makes
it a concern of every one of us to attain some adequate
notions on a subject which is fitted to arrange, preserve
and regulate all our other knowledge. Let no one
complain of us as adducing what is abstract, recondite,
and far from the track of ordinary thought and duty.
Por what can be nearer to us than He who formed us,
in whom we live and move and have our being ? Or
what can be more profitable than that which has its
direct bearing on eveiy other part of the Christian
scheme ? We shall not therefore lose any time, if we
wisely meditate on this consistency of God with him-
self, or the adorable harmony of all his perfections.

The subject will become more distinct, if we con-
sider the truth, that we are constrained to think of
God as an infinitely perfect Being. In this the true

TEE DmNE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 53

God separates himself by an immeasurable gulf from
all the divinities of polytheism. He is One, and he is
absolute. When we think of that which has any im-
perfections, we are not thinking of God. Much of our
conception of God is arrived at by a negative process ;
that is, by denying of the Most High every thing which
is faulty or imperfect. We take those qualities, for ex-
ample, which are included in our idea of God, and lift
each of these up to an infinite sublimity. Is it Being ?
We immediately, justly, and by a sort of logical instinct,
think of that Being which has no imperfections. It is
therefore unlimited being, for aH limitation implies
weakness, dependence, or subordination. It is immen-
sity of being. For the same reason it is independent
being ; because, on whom or what can it depend ? It
is necessary existence ; God cannot but be, and be what
he is. In like manner, when we conceive of God as a
Spirit, and arrive at the apprehension of him as an In-
telhgence, the mind naturally and in^esistibly proceeds
to divest this idea of all the defects and limitations
which belong to creatures. It is infinite Knowledge,
supreme Reason, absolute Wisdom. The laws of our
very thinking demand this. Any thing less than this
falls short of God. The same mode of illustration
might be derived from each of the Divine attributes,
which for this very cause we are accustomed to call per-
fections. 'For if we worshipped a being who had any
even the least imperfection, then would he not be Su-
preme, not the Highest and Best ; yet every man is

54 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY.

conscious that when he is searching for God, if, haply,
he may find him, he cannot rest content, except when
supposing the acme of excellence. Take away any
the least ray of glory, and it is no longer the deity
you seek, for above and beyond this hmited and imper-
fect divinity you can conceive of one all perfection;
and this is what reason demands in the true God. So
true is this, namely, that the idea of God includes that
of infinite perfection, that we perpetually employ it as
a medium of investigation and a corrective of our con-
clusions. Having found out a little concerning the
dread Supreme, we render that little valuable, by de-
nying of it all imperfection and removing from it all
boundaries. Let me not be considered abstruse ; for the
principle alluded to is both important and very precious,
and is, I am persuaded, level to the ordinary hearer,
who will yield his attention. We might illustrate it
by any one of the Divine attributes. Suppose we take
one of the most undeniable. As soon as we conceive of
God as the Creator and Preserver of all material nature,
we attribute to him a presence with all his works. But
the invincible disposition, just stated, to remove all
limits and imperfections from God, causes us at once to
make this presence Omnipresence. There is no point in
his dominion where he is not. But the same mode of
reasoning leads us fm'ther still. The presence of crea-
tures is divisible ; that is, each is partly in one place
and partly in another ; and the vaster they are, the more
divisible. Tor example, the solar system is present in

THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 55

a certain dimension of space ; but part is here and
part is there, and between the extremes is a distance
which, to our poor measm'ement, seems infinite, as it is
certainly immense. Not such is the presence of God.
This mode of presence which we ascribe to the stellar
universe, has two imperfections ; one from being matter
and the other from being creature. God is not present
in any divisible sense, because he is indivisible. He is
not partly here and partly there ; there is not one part
of God in heaven and another here and yet another in
the planet Saturn ; because God is without all parts.
We are forced, therefore, by a necessity of reason, to
fall upon a new kind of presence, a presence which is
unique, without example or parallel, to meet the con-
ditions of Omnipresence. God is then all-present at
every point of the universe, at one and the same tune.
All there is of God (I speak reverently) is fully in every
place in his dominions, at one and the same instant ;
and this because we attribute to him the absence of all
imperfection, such as division would be. So strong is
om' rational determination to abstract all fault and all
limit from our idea of the Most High. This Omni-
presence of God has its difficidties. Would we desire
a God whose nature should have no depths ? It is a
mysteiy. It transcends oiu* discursive understanding ;
yet we believe it ; all but Atheists beheve it ; we can-
not but believe it : somid reason compels us to believe,
however difficult it may be, that of which the contrary
is self-contradictory or absurd. And let me step aside

56 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY.

from the direct line of inquiry to say, that sound reason
in the same way allows us to believe other mysteries
which we cannot fully comprehend, such as the Trinity
and the Incarnation. But we return to observe, that
everywhere in theological science we hold fast to the
first- principle, that nothing must be aflBrmed of God
which does not belong to the idea of an infinitely per-
fect being ; which brings the subject directly under the
general proposition of the text. He cannot deny him-
self ; he must be true to his nature ; nothing can be
asserted of him which is inconsistent with absolute
perfection.

We advance hardly a single step, when we say, that
all the Attributes of God are in perfect harmony with
one another. If any one were discordant "wath the rest,
or with any other, God would therein deny himself. Our
best and clearest views of the Great Supreme are poor
and inadequate. There is a sublime and absolute sim-
plicity in God, which we, from weakness, must take
severally and by parts. Thus, when we survey some
heavenly orb, no astronomic skill enables us to behold
it at one view. We wait for its motion, and watch how
it revolves before us, and catch a glimpse of side after
side. The ray of light is one; but in the prismatic
spectrum and in the rainbow, we see it parted into hues ;
while the violet, the indigo, the blue, the green, the yel-
low, the orange, and the red, seen dispersed in the
showery arch, are one sunbeam. So of the infinite and
primeval Light, all the perfections are glimpses of the

THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 57

same indivisible unity. All the attributes are phases of
one and the same Divine orb. The seeming variety, and
stiU more, the sometimes seeming contradiction, arise
from the incapacity of our vision. All are in perfect
harmony, and whatsoever violates this harmony, by ex-
alting one attribute at the expense of another, wars with
the maxim, that he cannot deny himself. This modifi-
cation in the statement of the great principle allows us
to apply it to a diversity of interestmg particulars. Let
us briefly make the attempt. And for a beginning, we
need not go further than the suggestions of the text
itself. He cannot deny himself. What ! the inconside-
rate \\dll rejoin ; and is there any thing which God
cannot do ? He can do all things ; for is he not Om-
nipotent? .Of a truth, God is Omnipotent. At this
truth we arrive, even by natural religion, and on the
principle already adopted by us, which removes all
limits and asserts aU perfection. So soon as we admit
a Creator, that is, one of power sufficient to make and
sustain the Universe, we run on by a happy necessity of
reason, and ascribe to him all conceivable power. Every
sane mind, in its reflective moments, does so. Here
the Christian agrees Avith the serious Deist. Every
thing included in power, in infinite power, belongs un-
deniably to God. This is a fixed point, and whatever
denies this, errs, by making God deny himself.

But, does it therefore follow, that in respect to the
Most High, there is nothing that can be called impossi-
bility, in any sense ? How prone is poor human under-

58 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY.

standing to play tricks upon itself, and to involve its
limited faculties in the meshes of entangling words.
This was the fanlt of the Schoolmen, or Latin theolo-
gians of the Middle Age. Never were there minds
more keen and subtle, but they dulled the edge of their
nice faculties upon questions which are impracticable.
They debated, for example, whether God could cause
the same thing to be and not to be, at the same time ;
whether he could cease to exist ; whether he could create
two mountains without a valley between, or a triangle
with more or less than three sides. These are the rid-

•

dies of childish understanding. When we ascribe power
to God, we do not mean an attribute which is at war
with his other perfections ; we mean, as aforesaid,
nothing incompatible with the subhme and infinite idea.
God can do all that is properly an object of power.
Those absm'd and contradictoiy suppositions include no
object of power. They demand no might, greater or
less. He who should do them, would be neither stronger
nor weaker for the achievement. They imply no ex-
cellence and savour of no perfection. They are incon-
ceivable ; the mind can frame no notion of what they
are ; a jargon of words without a sense. There is,
therefore, that which God cannot do ; because he can-
not deny himself.

But some, while they avoid the folly of such de-
mands as these, fall upon another, less ridiculous, but
equally full of danger. Because God is almighty, say
they, he can destroy all the sin and misery in the Uni-

THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 59

verse ; and tlierefore, he will eventually save all mankind,
and make all creatures happy. I would not introduce
this, if it were not one of those suggestions which, at
one time or other, find lodgment in every human mind.
Here is a strange mixture of truth and falsehood, which
must be carefully dissected apart. God can do all
things ; in this we are perfectly agreed. But it is not
a just inference, that he will do all that he can.
Whether, and in what cases, he shall exert his omnipo-
tence, is to be determined by other perfections, which
he vnR not and cannot deny. Looking to the future, do
we ventm-e to predict, that an Omnipotent Creator and
Governor will make every creature happy ? But if we
take a point before the creation of man, and suppose an
angehc spirit to be speculating on the probable fortunes
of our race, is it not certam that he would have predict-
ed a world without sin and without misery ? Would he
not say, the Almighty can prevent the introduction of
sin, and he will ! Yet, how false woidd have been such
a determhiation ! The answer is in the fact. Sin and
misery do exist. Our earth has been scarred, and burnt,
and drenched, by crime, and war, and famuie, and pes-
tilence, and earthquakes. Oiu* faculties are too scanty
for the resolution of such high problems. That it was
witliin the power of God to create a universe into which
sin could not enter, no sound reasoner can deny. Yetj
he chd create a universe into which sin has actually
entered. He is m no sense the author of that sm ; and
yet he did not prevent it. Such is the fact. No man

0Q THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY.

has ever denied it. Must we not conclude, that there
are hmits, not to the power, but to the exercise of
power ? The Wisdom, the Hohness, the Justice of
God, all perfections which must be honoured, came in
with awful majesty, to produce results which poor, short-
sighted man cannot comprehend. He cannot deny
himself.

Let us look again at the text, and in regard to the
same attribute. There are those things which God can-
not do. As, in another place, " God, that cannot lie."
Why not ? Because he is infinitely holy, and infinitely
true ; because falsehood would militate against these at-
tributes; because he cannot deny himself. The ina-
bility arises from his moral nature. He cannot be un-
true or unholy, because this were to cease to be God.
Every thing within us rises up against such a supposi-
tion. The infinite Jehovah, then, has no capacity of evil ;
and this, from that verj perfection of his nature, which
we love to assert and press. We must beware, there-
fore, hoAV we lightly ascribe to God those things which
may suit our narrow prepossessions, lest unmttingly we
offend against some of his blessed attributes. And
hence we learn how closely we should adhere to the
teachings of Scripture, in respect to what God will or
will not do, in his government or his grace, since we
know Uttle of his plan and pm-pose, except what he has
vouchsafed to express in the Scriptm-es. Secret things
belong unto God, but such as are revealed unto us
and our children. And we must continually cherish a

THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY gj

reverent determination to indulge no tlioiiglit of God,
which shall be discordant with his glorious and often
inscrutable perfections. Let it stand high inscribed on
our whole fabric of derived truth, that he is eternally
and immutably consistent with himself.

There are other applications of this cardinal truth,
which will at once occui* to the thoughtfid mind. As
God cannot deny himself, we must shun the error of
derogating from his Wisdom, Holiness, Truth, and
Justice, under the pretext of adding lustre to his j\lercy.
A neglect here has led many into grave errors with re-
gard to Atonement, Satisfaction, and Justification. If
God were aU mercy, no Atonement woidd be necessary.
But, " a God all mercy were a God mijust." He is full
of mercy, and out of this fulness flows the tide of redemp-
tion ; but in such wise as to preserve the honour of his law
imtarnished. He cannot deny his law ; he cannot deny his
justice ; he cannot deny his threatenings of truth. Of his
infinite compassion, he will save the lost ; but it shall be in
such a way as shall make his other glories more illustrious.
It is the sublime necessity of harmonizing these other-
wise conflicting traits of Divine majesty, which calls for
the exercise of that grace, " wherein he hath abounded
toward us in all wisdom and prudence ;" " to the intent
that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly
places might be known by the Church the manifold wis-
dom of God." He cannot deny his Wisdom. It is
made to subserve the vindication of the law. Does a
blind and condemned rebel ask that sinners should be

62 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY.

pardoned witliout a satisfaction ? Such is not God's
method. This were to prostrate Justice and the Law
in the very dust. How different a course does infinite
Wisdom prescribe ! How different a lesson do we read
in the crimson spectacle of the Cross ! Mercy is grati-
fied, but Justice triumphs, " to the praise of the glory
of the grace wherein we are accepted in the Beloved."
God denies neither his Justice nor his Mercy. And
why ? Because the Word is made flesh, and the Only-
Begotten of the Father dies upon the tree. " Die he, or
justice must." And around this awful, fascinating,
transforming sight, we behold all the attributes in per-
fect harmony, and God immutably true to himself. The
principle of the text shines illustriously in the whole
work of redemption ; and the more we study the char-
acter of Jehovah, the more shall we learn that the divine
consistency of this character made it impossible that sin
should be pardoned, unless Christ should bear " our
sins in his own body on the tree." But the same
union of perfections in the Divine nature presents itself
in an alarming view, when we consider the condition of
those who reject God's chosen plan of salvation. The
soul that passes into eternity without an interest in
Christ's atoning work, faces the unmitigated blaze of
vindicatory law. The Cross being neglected, there re-
mains no more sacrifice for sin. Justice, no less than
mercy, has its place for appropriate triumph. God will
fulfil his utmost threatenings ; for he cannot deny him-
self. On whatsoever side, then, we look, we observe

THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY, 53

the beautiful and inviolate harmony which subsists
among all the perfections of God, In conclusion, I
would point out a few lessons which may be derived
from the truths on which we have meditated.

1. The subject aids us to compare and settle our
minds, in regard to what may be called the difficulties
of Scripture and theology. These all arise from our ig-
norance, and our inabihty to fathom the mysteries of the
Divine Nature. As in our best estate on earth, " we
know m part," and see through a glass darkly, some
of these enigmas must remain miexplained, so long as
we are in the body. The only part of wisdom is to bow
with profound reverence to whatever is revealed, even
though we may be incompetent to reconcile it with other
truths, ' Thus saith the Lord,' ought to aUay all doubts.
Philosophy has wearied itself for ages, in the attempt to
reconcile the existence of physical evil with God's hoh-
ness and goodness ; but not the shghtest advance has
been made in the explanation. ' Why did God permit
the fall ? ' is a question which can never be answered,
but by humbling our minds before the general consid-
eration, that divine reasons of state are beyond our ken ;
that some of God's attributes may demand a course of
government beyond all our expectation ; that his wis-
dom is infallible as liis love is immense ; and that what-
ever he ordains or allows, is agreeable to the concord of
those perfections which we at awful distance revere and
worship. The same is true with regard to the fearful
doom of the wicked. The finally impenitent shall go

64 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY.

away into everlasting fire, prepared for tlie devil and liis
angels. The smoke of tlieii' torment goetli up forever
and ever. We are incompetent to decide on the grounds
of this undeniable sentence ; just as we are unable to
explain the incalculable amount of sin and misery now
actually existing on earth. We do not comprehend the
infinite depths of evil there are in sin ; we cannot esti-
mate the glory which shall redound to God from the
never-ceasing display of his inflexible justice ; we know
not how far sucb an exhibition of wrath may tend to
the increased sum of happiness, in all the remaining in-
telligent universe. The problem will one day be solved.
Wliat we know not now, we shall know hereafter. This
and all inscrutable facts and doctrines shall be seen to
have their ground in some perfection of God, or in the
harmony of all his perfections. We may safely leave the
matter in such hands. God is love; and there is no
one of his decrees which is not prompted by infinite
benevolence. We may not see the connexion or con-
sistency, in all cases, but this is conclusive — He cannot
deny himself.

2. The truth we have been considering, may en-
courage us to commit the whole matter of om* salvation
to God with implicit confidence. A man needs a strong
fomidation on which to lean his everlasting interests.
Ordinary securities will not avail here. When storms
assail our hope, and unnumbered sins arise to irritate
our conscience, and the dreadful justice of God is array-
ed against us, especially if all this happens when death

THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY.

65

is in view, we need something more than vague expec-
tation or mere probabiHty. The true basis of trust is
found in the character of God ; and this is all-sufficient.
It is the part of revelation to make this known to us.
It is the part of faith to rely upon it. The constancy
and immutability of God are the ground of our security.
If he were changeful, the Universe would be a hell.
How ready we should be to fly into despair or madness,
if the God in whom we trust were uncertain and capri-
cious, hke the divinities of the Gentiles ? But he says,
"I am Jehovah, I change not, therefore ye sons of
Jacob are not consumed." * So changeable and capri-
cious are we, that if our salvation depended on our
abiding constant for an hour, we should inevitably be
lost. But though we *' believe not," or are unfaithful,
he is faithful. Especially may we rely on his covenant
engagements, from which he will not draw back. His
truth is confii'med by repeated asseverations ; " wherein
God, willing more abundantly to show unto the heirs of
promise the immutability of his comisel, confirmed it by
an oath ; that by two immutable things, in which it was
impossible for .God to lie, we might have a strong con-
solation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold on the
hope set before us." How refreshing is it, to look away
from the endless vicissitudes of our own hearts, which
ebb and flow Hke the sea, and wax and wane like the
moon, to Him who is immutable, and whose decrees of

* Mai. iii. 6.

QQ THE DIYINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY.

love are as fii-m as his very being. In disheartening
hours, our greatest repose is obtained, by hfting the soul
to One who in Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, to-
day and forever. I put it to Christian hearers, above
all, to such as are habitually prone to write bitter things
against themselves, whether they are not more ready to
ascribe constancy and immutability to God's justice,
than to his grace. Yet, he can no more be unfaithful
to one than to the other. Only make sure of an inter-
est in his covenant, by connexion with the Lord Jesus
Christ, and your salvation is as firm as the tln^one of
eternity. We read the threatenings, and quake because
He is unchangeable. Let us read the promises, and be-
lieve that heaven and earth shall pass away, before one
jot or one tittle of his gracious engagements shall fail.
He cannot deny himself; he cannot deny his Son. We
have a Sm'ety, in his nature and in ours, who shall make
good every article of the eternal treaty. And how re-
splendent will this glory of grace shine forth in " that
day," when the elect jewels shall be made up, without
one loss, even of the faintest creatm'e who ever believed,
and when every vault of the heavenly city shall ring
to the honom* of Him who is forever true to his own
nature !

3. In every moment of life, we learn from this sub-
ject to look up to the harmonious attributes of God,
with profound adoration and lively affection. The ob-
ject is glorious, and, above all others, deserves our con-
templation. He is one and the same. The changes of

THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. gy

time and creatures are but the trifling waves which
keep up theii' noisy flow at the base of this Eternal Rock.
He was infinitely true to himself before time began ;
such wiU he be when time shaU be no more. Every
one of those adorable perfections remains in plenitude
of majesty, and aU m bhssful concord with each other.
" He is the Rock, his work is perfect : for aU his ways are
judgment : a God of tnith, and without iniquity : just
and right is he ! " There are times when the wavering
soul needs recourse to such thoughts. There are wars
and tumidts among the people. Nation rises against
nation. Iniquity abounds, and the love of many waxes
cold. The cause of truth and righteousness seems to
tremble ; and mibelief suggests that the plan of heaven
has changed or been fi'ustrated. But aU these muta-
tions are but a faint ripple on the surface of the sea of
things. "The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice."
The principles of his government are more settled than
the everlasting mountains. "The Lord sitteth upon
the flood ; yea, the Lord sitteth king forever." Great
calamities startle a whole population, A gallant ship is
labouring in the tempestuous deep. Stout-hearted men
quiver with apprehension ; veterans who have stood at
the cannon's mouth yield to awe before the raging ele-
ments, and the cry of panic-struck women and children
ascends amidst the crash of timbers and the nithless
brawhng of the stonn. The mountain biUow makes its
clear sweep over the deck, and whole bands plunge
through the wintry, strangling surge, into eternity.

68 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY.

Has God closed his eyes upon his creatures ? Nay,
bHnd insect of yesterday ; it is He who orders all. He
is true to his justice, and true to his mercy. " Thy
throne is established of old, thou art from everlasting.
The floods have Hfted up, 0 Lord, the floods have lift-
ed up their voice ; the floods lift up their waves. The
Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters,
yea, than the mighty waves of the sea." However he
may send the stroke of death, which he sends to all,
"just and right is he ! " He cannot deny himself. Be
this our anchor, when in regard to our own little per-
sonal afiairs, the billows threaten to overwhelm us.
They cannot reach the throne of our God, nor change
the settled purposes of his love. Clouds and darkness
are round about him, but righteousness and justice are
the habitation of his throne. Sometimes, if we could
look into his heart, we should discern paternal compas-
sion behind the lifted rod. Let us rejoice that he is,
and such as he is. Let us glory that he changeth not.
Let us summon our thoughts away from all creatures
and all second causes, to dwell on the throne that cannot
be moved. Though all else fail, it is well with us if
God remains. See to it that he is yours. Hazard not
the consequences of being found in the way of his ad-
vancing vengeance. His covenant of grace is sm-e, but
his justice is as in*evocable as his love is fathomless.
Now, in this temporal state, the offer is made, to change
our relation, and from enemies to become friends. But
presently, a trumpet shall sound, to tell that parley is

THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 59

over, and that what remains is arrest, adjudication,
doom ! 0, saint ! O, sinner ! in that horn*, it is near,
heaven will stand vindicated, thy destiny sealed, thy
heaven or hell made eternal. Eor he cannot deny
himself !

III.

DIVINE PKOVIDENCE IN PAKTICULAKS.

DIVINE PKOYIDENCE IN PAKTICULARS.*

Matthew x. 30.
"But the very hairs of your head are all numbered."

The subject to be treated from these words is that
of a particular providence. And by a particular provi-
dence, we mean a divine care, unceasingly bestowed on
all creatures and aU then* actions ; on tMngs heavenly
and things sublunary ; whether small or great, whether
good or evil; whether natm'al or moral; whether
necessary or fi-ee ; so that nothing can occur in the
universe which is not immediately governed by Om-
nipotence. The Epicureans feigned a deity who takes
no cognizance of creatui-es. The followers of Aristotle
seem to have confined the divine regards only to celes-
tial things. The Pelagians withdraw from the rule of

* Princeton, January 2, 1855.

74 DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS.

God all free actions of moral beings ; and men of the
world, professing no philosophical creed in particular,
entertain a vague notion of some general oversight
which the Supreme Intelligence exercises since creation,
while they practically deny any such special care as we
have just asserted. It is of vast importance that our
minds be firmly settled on this fundamental point.
Generalities will not suffice, when we sustain the shock
of great and sudden afflictions. As the doctrine of
chance is the most absurd and cheerless of aU human
tenets, so any approach to it, by withdrawing a part of
aU events from the circle of God's plan, tends to hesita-
tion, darkness, and misery. Por which part shall we so
withdraw ? What objects and what acts shall we aban-
don to the fortuitous concussion of circumstances ? Or
if this could be determined, how shall we be assm'ed
that the particulars in which we affirm God to have no
concern, are not the very ones on which our highest
happiness hinges ? In opposition to all such irrational
hypotheses, we maintain that he who firmly believes in
a universal providence, extending to every hair, and
who feels accordingly, has arrived at the true secret of
a happy life.

We argue a particular providence from a particular
creation. That which God has deigned to make, he will
condescend to care for ; and that which he has made in
all its minutest details, he may, without derogation from
his infinite majesty, continue to sustain and govern even
in its least members and motions. The instance

DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS.

75

chosen by our Lord is among the most Hght and impalpa-
ble of all objects connected with the human frame. Yet,
under the glass of the microscopic anatomist, the single
hair presents wonders of structure and adaptation which
no human hand can reproduce or imitate. Indeed, the
further down we go into the mterior recesses of nature,
all invisible to the naked eye, the more amazing become
the revelations of power, and skill, and goodness. So
that the very antennge of the fly that annoys our slum-
ber, the dust of the downy fruit, and the volatile pollen
of the lily or the rose, awaken new adoration of Him
who is maximus in minimis, greatest in that which seems
least. Take any inch-square of the ground we tread
on ; and to the eye of reverent science, it is a world
teeming with wonders. Nor do we observe any tend-
ency to a termination of these wonders, or any Hmit of
this creative ingenuity, though we press our investiga-
tion to the utmost length which adventm'ous observation
can reach with its most elaborate, costly, and recent ap-
pliances. The finger of Omnipotence is still before us ;
tracing contom's of beauty, adding lustrous hues far
beyond the reach of human gaze, weaving tissues, con-
veying tides of cii'culation, and adjusting forces mth
mathematical exactness, in the filament of the tiniest
floweret, and the organ of the evanescent animalcule.
Now, that which it was not unworthy of creative power
to make, it is not unworthy of providential care to up-
hold and govern. Our scale of measurement on this
subject is arbitrary and partial. We know little of

76 DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS.

great or small, as applied to the works of tlie Almiglity.
In his eye, there may be as much value in the hving
mote, that scarcely darkens our vision, as in the levia-
than of the hoary waters. And here, let me deviate, if
it be not in the direct hne of our argument, to expose
the emptiness of that flippant reasoning of haK-philoso-
phy, which sometimes makes bold to jeer at om' doc-
trine, that all things were made for some good end.
These laughing sages demand of us for what purpose
the contemptible insect, which flits across our path or
ahghts on our persons, was created. Let it be a suc-
cessful and triumphant reply to ignorant and imperti-
nent scoffing, that an infinitely benevolent Creator, be-
sides other reasons unknown to us, has had sufficient
reason for the production of wondrous hving mechan-
isms, in the securing of happiness to the being itself,
which thus stands forth as a small but animated argu-
ment of the divine goodness. On this point, I gladly
borrow from the sometimes eiToneous, but, here, mcom-
parable Paley : " The air, the earth, the water, teem with
dehghted existence. In a spring noon, or a summer
evening, on whichever side I turn my eyes, myriads of
happy beings crowd upon my view. ' The insect youth
are on the wing.* Swarms of new-born ffies are trying
their pinions in the air. Their sportive motions, their
wanton mazes, their gratuitous activity, their continual
change of place without use or purpose, testify their
joy, and the exultation which they feel in their lately
discovered faculties. A bee amongst the flowers in

DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS.

77

spring, is one of the most cheerful objects that can be
looked upon. Its life appears to be all enjoyment : so
busy and so pleased ; yet it is only a specimen of insect
life, with which, by reason of the animal being half do-
mesticated, we happen to be better acquainted than we
are with that of others. The whole winged insect tribe,
it is probable, are equally intent upon their proper em-
ployments ; and, under every variety of constitution, gra-
tified, and perhaps equally gratified, by the offices which
the Author of their natm^e has assigned to them." —
" Walking by the sea-side, in a calm evening, upon a
sandy shore, and with an ebbing tide, I have frequent-
ly remarked the appearance of a dark cloud, or rather
very thick mist, hanging over the edge of the water, to
the height perhaps of half a yard, and of the breadth of
two or three yards, stretching along the coast as far as
the eye could reach, and always retmng with the water.
"When this cloud came to be examined, it proved to be
nothing else than so much space, filled with young
shrimps, in the act of bomiding into the air from the
shallow margin of the water, or from the wet sand. If
any motion of a mute animal could express delight, it
was this ; if they had meant to make signs of their hap-
piness, they coidd not have done it more intelligibly,
Suppose, then, what I have no doubt of, each individual
of this number to be in a state of positive enjoyment,
what a sum, collectively, of gratification and pleasure
have we here before our view." *

* Natural Theology.

78 DIVINE FROVIDENCE IK PAKTICULARS.

In conformity with this, we beheve with pleasure
that whatsoever God has made, even to the smallest de-
tails, he continues to preserve and regulate. Provi-
dence has sometimes been considered as a continued
creation; but more properly, as the constant will of
God to maintain the being of that which he has created.
For there is no innate power of self-sustentation in the
creature ; and if God were to withdraw his power, all
that he has made would collapse into its original nothing.
Being is too sublime an endowment to own any other
source, even for an instant, than that which first gave
it. We are to look on nature in its minutest varieties,
and having God perpetually standing by it, upholding
and guiding. In this there is nothing low and nothing
wearisome. Omnipotence is equally unexhausted in
driving whole stellar systems through their awful incal-
culable trajectories, and in supporting the gossamer that
floats over our autumnal fields. The reason of creation
thus becomes the reason of providence, and we exult in
the truth, as sublime as it is consolatory, that the hairs
of our head are all nmnbered.

After this preamble, we argue particular providence
from the express teachings of Scriptui'e. Here it will
be necessary to use selection. Fii-st, we open upon pas-
sages which ascribe to God the wielding and governance
of aU things in general. As where Nehemiah prays :
ix. 6, " Thou, even thou, art Jehovah alone ; thou hast
made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with aU their host,
the earth and all things therein, and thou preservest

DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS.

79

them all." As when Paul, at the Areopagus, challeng-
mg the assent of even a heathen auditory, says, " Though
he be not far from every one of us ; for in him we hve,
and move, and have our being." As when, Heb. i. 3,
the Son of God is represented as " upholding aU things
by the word of his power," But passages of this sort
are numerous and famihar. Next we meet with places
where this very particularity of providence is explicitly
asserted. Thus the smallest as well as the greatest ob-
jects are referred to his care ; as in our text, and in that
beautiful and parallel instance, " Ai*e not two sparrows
sold for a farthing ? and one of them shall not fall on
the ground without yoiu" Father." Or, where he chides
the distrust of disciples as to food and raiment, by
pointing to lihes and birds, arrayed and fed by God ;
in other words, the objects of his careful providence.
The very insects, used by the sceptic for his ill-timed
jests, were fearfully employed in vengeance among the
plagues of Egypt ; and at a later day, the locust, the
palmer- worm and the caterpillar, are marshalled by him
in battle-array against a guilty land, while he says, Joel
ii. 11, " And Jehovah shall utter his voice before his
army ; for his camp is very great."

But this Providence of God includes in its range a
nobler class of creatures, even those which are rational
and immortal. These, with all their thoughts, affec-
tions, and acts, are parts of his marvellous plan. In-
deed, if these were excluded, there could be nothing in
the doctrine of Providence wliich could afford us any

80 DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULAES.

contentment. It were a mockery to tell us that we
should have safety by the hand of Omnipotence, in re-
gard to the powers of irrational nature ; but that in all
that concerns the free or the wicked actions of men, we
must rely on ourselves or on chance. It were a crippled
and insufficient providence which should guard me
against the serpent or the tornado, but which should
leave me to myself the moment a moral and responsible
agent came upon the stage. Yet, this is the strange,
uncomfortable doctrine which prompts the language
heard in many a Christian circle. Which of us has not
listened to such words as these ? "I could bear this
trial, if it were ordered of God, but it proceeds from
man. It is not providential, but from wicked human
beings." There is in this a sad confusion. Such a
government as is here assumed, would be no providence
at aU ; and would render all rule impossible, as exclud-
ing those very agencies which are most important. And
I return to say, that the Bible teaches no such doctrine.
While it abhors the thought of making God the author
of sin, it does not exclude sinful acts from his Avise and
holy plan. While it evermore denies God's participa-
tion in the evil of wicked deeds, it stiU asserts, that in
the directing and governing of such deeds, there is a
sovereign providence, working out its own wise and
holy ends. " Man's goings are of the Lord ; how then
can a man understand his own way ? " "A man's heart
deviseth his way, but the Lord directeth his steps."
The wrath of man shall praise him, and the remainder

DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 32

of wratli He will restrain. Let it be clearly fixed in
our minds, as the only true philosophy of this subject,
that an act may be wicked, as to the intent of its agent,
and yet its result may be really intended by God.
Were it not so, we could have no relief imder our worst
sufferings, namely, those which we endure from depraved
and malignant human creatm-es. But these also are
providential. Joseph's brethren committed a great sin.
This none can deny, so far as they were concerned.
Yet was it strictly and particularly providential : " So
now it was not you that sent me hither, but God."
" God did send me before you to preserve hfe." " Ye
thought evil against me, but God meant it unto good."
Here is particular providence, in regard to free and
wicked acts. Other instances in point will occur to the
memory of the scriptural student. Especially the great
and striking case of our Lord's arrest and death ; in-
tensely wicked as to its free pei'petrators, yet a part of
God's providential scheme for the salvation of mankind.
We cannot on any principle of reason escape fi'om this
great and most consolatory truth. The dependence of
the creature upon the Creator enforces it. As man is
suspended absolutely on God for his being and his life,
so also is he dependent on him for his power to act, and
for the acts themselves. If for the body, then yet more
for the soul, the nobler part. Conceive of a being inde-
pendent of God in acting, and you infer a being inde-
pendent .also in essence. But if he is dependent, then
is he in all his actions brought mthin the cii'cle of prov-
6

82 DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS.

idential ordering. And surely there can be derived
neither peace nor profit from the doctrine, that a large
part of human acts, many of which most nearly concern
us, are performed without God's knowledge, which were
to deny omniscience ; or, without his caring for them,
which were to deny his love ; or, without his power to
prevent them, which were to deny his omnipotence.
Yet, this is the doctrine of the Epicurean, of the world,
and of many who suppose themselves to be Christians.
As none but infidels deny all providence outright —
a truth which forces the assent of the sober Deist — the
usual method of error is to admit some general care
of the universe, but to deny such care as extends to
minute particulars. And this misconception is widely
prevalent among superficial thinkers. Now, not to re-
peat what has been already urged, that in the sense in-
tended there is with God neither great nor small, and
that there is to the Almighty no degradation, nor weari-
ness, nor waste of power, in caring for the sparrow, the
hair or the atom, I would bring it before the serious
consideration of doubters, that their tenet is destructive
of all providence whatever ; and that if there is no par-
ticular providence, there can be none at all. General
providence infers that which is particular. For, surely
these deniers do not mean to tell us, that God singles
out the great acts of the universe and the world's his-
tory, and neglects the small. In this case, the small
must after all be considered in the divine prescience, in
order that they may be left out. The meaning, per-

DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 53

haps, is, that Divine wisdom fixes and decrees the grand
and momentous events in history, but fixes not minor
and intermediate points. But look a httle more close-
ly, and you will perceive, that those momentous pomts
are caused and detennined by these which are smaller.
The most astonishing changes in human things, which
have rent empires, and made the world ring for ages,
have depended on the most trifling occiurences, and
but for these would not, and could not have been. Did
Providence then- secure the great event, and leave its
proximate causes to be settled by chance, or not settled
at all ? The rise and fortunes of Moses occupy a just
eminence, as connected with the destiny of a people still
subsisting. Was there, or was there not, a providence
in the fact that the princess of Egypt, at a certain hour,
spied that wicker cradle upon the Nile ? It was a grand
event, that Christianity should be carried to Ethiopia.
Was there any providence in the meeting of Phihp and
the treasurer of Queen Candace, on the road to Gaza ?
The death of Juhus Cesar is one of the capital events in
hmnan annals. Was there a providence in the great
man's failing to read the scroll of papyi'us, handed to
him in the crowd, and which would have revealed to
him the conspu'acy ? Kay, each of us, in his own little
fife, can recount incidents, trivial in themselves, yet di-
rectly conducive and even necessary to the occmTence
of what has given colour to our whole subsequent ex-
istence. The truth is, general providence is only the
sum of particular providences, as every whole is but an

84 DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS.

aggregation of its several parts. And he who speaks of
a providential plan, so general as to exclude details and
minutiae, utters he knows not what, and professes what
he cannot expound even to his own conceptions. Let
us, therefore, reverently and dehghtedly, come back to
the doctrine of our chUdish days, which is at the same
time a conclusion of the profoundest philosophy, that all
events, even the smallest, fall out according to the com-
prehensive and well-ordered plan of a sleepless benig-
nant and all- wise Ruler, who doeth his pleasure in the ar-
mies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth.
How beautifully this shines out in the records of the
Scriptures ; making them herein differ strikingly from
all other annals ! This clew will often guide us tln-ough
the mazes of an otherwise inexplicable narrative. This
"svill often explain to us, why some things are given in
great detail, while others are passed over in silence.
For, the accounts given in Scriptm'e are the history, not
so much of the intentions of man, as of the plans of
God. Especially in the vernal sunshine of patriarchal
days, we behold God's hand, we feel his presence, we
admit his agency, at every turn. And all the way
through the tangled web of Judaic history, it is Jehovah
who is the planner, it is Jehovah who is the hero of the
story. Well were it for each of us, if we could transfer
this spirit of the Bible to the explanation of our own
lives. It would clear up many a day of clouds, and
solve many an enigma. In this belief, I dare not close
without certain practical conclusions from truths, I trust,

DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. §5

sufficiently established. We may sin against the doc-
trine of a particular providence in several ways.

In regard to the past, we may offend by repining,
or quaiTelhng with providence. It is one of our daily
and most heinous transgressions, excluding the thought of
God's wise and beneficent rule fi'om the events of our
common days. The sin of murmurmg was the fatal ini:-
quity of Israel in the wilderness. It should be enough
to reconcile us to every event, that it befals us agreeably
to the wisdom and justice and mercy of God. What
misery, what weakness, what consumption of health,
what decay of spuits, what paralysis of effort, what
somness and morose care, might have been avoided, if
we had learnt to live in a continual submission to Provi-
dence, as to every particidar of oui* hves. " Lord, in-
crease our faith ! "

Akin to this is despair, when there seems to be no
outlet from om' troubles. It may- befit a Cain, a Saul,
or a Judas ; but not a child of God. If time had al-
lowed, I might have shown how Providence, under a
special covenant, concerns itself for those who shall be
heirs of salvation. The lessons of oiu Lord, ah-eady
cited, go to forbid this undue despondency. Hard as
it may be for miaided natm^e, it is the prerogative of
grace, when the night is darkest and most dreary, not
only to submit to what is sent, but to trust and hope in
God for the future ; and there is a blessing on such ex-
ercises of sold. Distrust of Providence implies an ac-

gg DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS.

tual disbelief of God's rule and disposal of tlie events
whicli concern us.

Another sin is the imputing of our sins to God,
wliicli is a horrible abuse of the doctrine of Providence.
The metaphysics of this subject may be difficult, and
we are not called upon to resolve all the doubts which
may be raised by an ingenious and perverse reason ; but
a few undeniable truths stand out in fire, like Hght-
houses flaming along a tempestuous coast. Whatever
we know not, we do know that the Judge of all the
earth will do right ; that God cannot be tempted of
evil, neither tempteth he any man ; that while he per-
mits sin, bounds it, and overrules it, he is infinitely
remote from being its cause, and from participating in
its malign quahty ; that, as all good is from above, so
all the evil of our misdeeds is from ourselves. These
plain and admitted truths should rise fully before us,
when at any time we are tempted to charge God fool-
ishly.

Again, there is a perversion which turns providence
into fate, and professes to hope for results without
using means. Whatever is to be, will be — ^is the fa-
miliar maxim of the profane and superficial fatalist;
often upon the lips of those who have no real behef in
providence. Wise men know that he who orders the
end, orders also the means, and that the means are made
necessary to the end by the decree of God himself.
Providence is itself a system, regularly working by a
chain of means, in the order of cause and effect.

DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 37

Providence does not ensui'e tlie result in spite of neg-
lects and omissions, but by ensuring the means required.
Where any man, whether from fatahsm or indolence,
omits the performance of his part, providence then goes
on its stately march to produce the failure of the end.
Hence the sin of presumption is chargeable on such as
rush on dangers, uncalled, in the profane expectation of
safety or deliverance. " Thou shalt not tempt the Lord
thy God." In things temporal, and in those which
concern our personal salvation, we abuse providence
when we neglect the diligent use of those instrumental-
ities which God has ordained.

Prone to extremes, however, sinful human nature
sometimes speeds to the very opposite, and rehes im-
pHcitly on second causes. This is the reigning sin of
the busy world. It becomes flagrant in many, who,
after long prosperity, come to ascribe all then* success to
their own endeavoiu-s, forget the hand which has sus-
tained and supported them, and mentally expel the God
of Providence from his own dominions. Such are the
sons of wealth, who fear no reverses, give no thanks,
expect largely from seK, or, as they speak, from luck,
and mean to be happy in spite of God. There may be
cases in which they have then- good things in tliis
world, feel no bands in then- death, and expire as they
have lived. But it is very common for a holy and just
God, by some stroke of his judgment on body, reason,
family, reputation, or estate, to show such persons, as
he did Nebuchadnezzar, that " the Heavens do rule."

88 DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS.

We shall best avoid these various errors, by establish-
ing our minds on a thorough persuasion of God's all-
pervading, all-embracing providence. And happy
should I be, my brethren, if the words now spoken
should prove seasonable to any one who has come to
this house overburdened with care. To such a heart
the blessed assm'ance of the text, carried home by the
Spirit of grace, will become a sovereign balm. The
bitterness of our griefs arises from our denying or for-
getting, that whatsoever lies heavy on our lot is laid
there by the hand of Him who is ordering all things
for our good. However vexing may be the aimoyances
of our pilgrim state, the loving soul can bear much from
the hand of a compassionate Creator and Redeemer.
These unwelcome visitations are intended to bring us
to right views of God's government of all things for
his people. Is the trouble past ? It is the Lord
who hath done it ; let him do as seemeth him good !
Be still, and know that he is God. Is it present?
Own the chastening of a present God, who doeth all
things well, and who is near you, to bring good out of
evil. Is it future ? Take no anxious thought for the
morrow. He who plans in wisdom and executes in
power, is your Keeper, your Shield, and your exceeding
great Reward. Nothing is too hard for his might;
nothing too little for his condescension. The very
hairs of yoiu- head are all numbered. Apply this to
the circumstances of this very day and horn- ; apply it
to those second causes, which, to a vainly- wise unbelief

DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 89

often seem too insignificant to be brought to the foot of
the infinite throne. You may use a child-hke confi-
dence in coming to your Father in heaven ; you may
unbosom before him your smallest disquietudes. The
thorn in the traveller's foot is sometimes grievous as the
sword of an adversary. The strongest Chiistians are
those who, from holy habit, hasten "with every thing to
God. Smmnon this doctrine to your aid, not merely
when the weightier class of calamities oppress you ; but
amidst the perturbations of ordinary life, the coUisions
of business, the perplexities of the household, the muta-
tions of health and spirits, nay the clouds of the sky,
which too often cany darkness into the windows of the
shrinking and sensitive soul. The very moods which
make our wheels drag slowly thi'ough the daily task,
the tempers of those around us, the petty disappoint-
ment and chagrin, the shght, the cross, the look of un-
kindness and the sUence of rebuke — all are dispensed
in season and in love. Happy is the soul which, having
secured an interest in providence by securing accept-
ance m Christ, can roll its bm^den on the Lord and lie
down seciu'e amidst the tempest, because its Father is
at the helm.

IV.

THE INCARNATION,

THE INCARNATION *

1 Timothy iii. 16.
" God was manifest in the flesh."

" The Catholic faith is this, that we worship one
God in Trinity and Trinity in Unity ; neither confound-
ing the persons, nor dividing the substance."

" Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of the Father, is
God and man ; God of the substance of the Father,
begotten before the world ; and Man of the substance
of his mother, born in the world. Perfect God and
perfect Man ; of a reasonable soul, and human flesh sub-
sisting ; equal to the Father as touching his Godhead,
and inferior to the Father as touching his manhood.
^V\\o, although he be God and Man, yet he is not two,
but one Christ."

* New York, February 11, 1849.

94 THE INCARNATION.

These are formulas which some will not pronounce,
who nevertheless vaunt their belief of " God in Christ. '*^
Our present task is not to prove or even to illustrate the
Incarnation, but only to look at one of its aspects, to
wit, the manifesting of God. In plainer terms, the
question is, How God's becoming man brings God
any nearer to our understandings and our hearts. And
in tliis inquiry we shall be led to the result, that by the
humanity of Christ the Divine Nature is brought more
within the reach of our understanding and our affections.
But as these two branches of the subject are large and
distinct, they may be properly treated in succession.
Accordingly, our first topic is this, that by the Incarna-
tion God is brought near to our understanding ; and
the second, that, by the Incarnation, God is brought
near to our affections.

I. By the Incarnation, God is brought near to our
understanding. We know more of God, by this means,
than we could ever have known without it. We are
no more able than before to grasp the infinite, or com-
prehend the incomprehensible, or measure the immense,
or see the invisible ; yet these divine and unapproach-
able perfections are brought into such connections with
humanity as to furnish us mth some steps by which to
climb up towards the height of these glories ; to acquire
some ideas, though inadequate, of what would otherwise
entirely elude our research. All creatures together
could not by searching find out God, yet one may

THE INCARNATION. ^

know more than another ; and many, more at one time
than at another ; angels more than men ; saints more than
sinners ; and every behever much that he could not have
discovered without this gracious intervention. Look
at it as we may, there is a wonderful mystery in God's
willing to be known of creatures. The whole creation
is fruit of such a will. God might have spent eternity
in blissful silence, in the all-satisfying glory of his own
perfections. But his infinite benevolence chose to im-
part this excellence, which is what we mean by God's
declarative glory or his glorifying himself. This is
the key to all the successive manifestations of God,
and especially of the creative manifestation. In the
work of the six days, including all the beauties and
utilities of the earth and all the regulated immensities
of heaven, Jehovah was only giving us a sparkle of his
grandeur ; and when we now look at the heavens and
the earth in their vast generality, or, taking any one
particular, as an insect or a leaf, descend into its in-
finitesimal minuteness of detail, we are studying just
so much of God. The common expression is just,
we read the Book of Nature. But no external mani-
festations could ever bring us to the chief of what we
need to know of God, his moral perfections, his mercy
and his love ; and God had regard to this, in making
man. I do not mean merely that it was necessary to
make a rational creature, in order to see and know
God's glory, which is true indeed ; but over and above
this, that the creature, thus rational, should be so made

96 THE INCARNATION.

as to have witliiii himself some facilities for knowing his
Creator ; some analogy, some resemblance to him, some
ray of Godhead which might guide him back ; some
image and Hkeness of the Invisible ; and therefore in
this image and likeness was he made. If man had
been made without this conformity, I do not see how
he could ever have come to any understanding of the
Divine perfections. Unless man were intellectual he
could have no notion of God as truth ; unless man had
conscience, he could have no notion of God as righteous-
ness ; unless man had volition, he could have no notion
of God as power ; and unless man had affections, he
could have no notion of God as love. But because he
is made in God's image in these respects, he is able to
gain ghmpses of the Divine attributes, of which he gets
the best ideas when he removes aU limits from his own
powers, and conceives them as enlarged to infinity.
For example, if a being were found, with intellect,
memory, will, and affections, but with no moral faculty,
we could never, even by centuries of reasoning, convey
to such a being the shghtest notion of virtue or holiness,
or of God as morally pure or holy. And there is no
absurdity in supposing that there are in God a thousand
perfections, of which the very kind is unknown to us,
because, among all endowments, we have none even
genericaUy resembling these perfections. Lower ani-
mals, possessed of but one sense or of but two, can by
no possibility arrive at the sensations of higher senses ;
no absolutely bHnd man can conceive of colour, or deaf

THE INCARNATION. gy

man of sound. There are animals probably which pos-
sess senses unknown to us ; and among higher created
spirits there are angels who possibly have faculties of
mind as inconceivable to us as colours to the blind.
But what shall we say of Divinity ? All comparison is
lost in the boundless glory ! Yet immeasurably as God
transcends our powers, he has placed in us certain
germs of resemblance, whereby we may come to know
him ; and this was gloriously true of man in his primi-
tive integrity. But why, you will be ready to say, does
the preacher go back to the original creation of man,
when the subject is, the manifestation of God by Jesus
Christ? Tor this reason, brethren, that the original
man was the fu'st Adam, and that Christ is the second
Adam ; for this additional reason, that in the wonderful
parallehsm between the first and the second, there is a
common element of humanity in both, by means of
which, as hke to God, man is able to come nearer to
God, than would have been possible otherwise. Just
as the image of God in Adam placed him in a situation
to know his Divine exemplar, just as in humanity we
see somewhat of divinity, so in the perfect and more
glorious humanity of Christ we are enabled to know
more of God than by all other means, even when we
consider it as mere humanity ; but infinitely more when
we consider it as the containing tabernacle of the God-
head. For, be it ever remembered, we are not to hold
that the only divinity revealed in Christ is his godlike
humanity ; but that this humanity, thus like God, and
7

98 THE INCARNATION.

more like God than that of the first Adam, affords a
vehicle for divine communications, and a channel for
divine revelations, infinitely suitable and complete,
when the Godhead becomes one with the manhood.
Here, therefore, is an analogy between the first and the
second Adam, which might otherwise escape us. An
additional reason for the communication by Christ is
found in the dreadful fact, that since the fall man has
in a great degree lost this image of God, though cer-
tain broken traces undoubtedly remain, so as to form
the basis of further knowledge.

Let us proceed, then, to the application of these
principles to the case of the second Adam. We at
once perceive his infinite superiority to the first. Even
in Christ's humanity, the divine image shines with a
splendour unknown in paradise. " The first man is of
the earth, earthy; the second man is the Lord from
heaven." The wisdom, power and hohness of Adam
were unimpaired, but limited. They did not attain
even that mark which they would have reached, if the
covenant had been so fulfilled as that Adam should
have been confirmed in perpetual indefectible goodness.
For Adam, though erect, was not established ; though
not an infant, in Eden, as Socinianizing divines teach,
he was but infantile as compared with the Lord from
heaven. The Lord Jesus Christ was possessed of
glorious perfections, even in his humanity, altogether
unknown to our first progenitor. He was the me-
dium of conveying divine wisdom. The Spirit was

THE INCARNATION. 99

given him without measure. He was not only sinless,
but insusceptible of sin, and thus immeasm^ably sub-
Hme. Though we cannot comprehend the miion of
the ever-present Deity with the man Chiist Jesus,
yet we perceive at once that it must have exalted
every power ; and that, while humanity was still hu-
manity, and there was no confounduig of the two
natm-es, the human was all glorified by the indwell-
ing of the divine, even as a globe of crystal, by an
internal fire, is made aU light. Nor can we think of
the infinite God as united personally to a manhood
which was other than subhme. 0, my brethi'en, what
marvels dwell within that Son of man ! Even as the
tabernacle m the wilderness was a homely structiue,
without presenting a rugged covering of the skins of
beasts, but within was radiant with gold, and inhabited
by the visible glory, between the cherubim above the
ark, so under that body which was worn with weariness
and pain, and within that face which was "marred
more than any man," there abode the sublimated glory
of humanity, in a divinely-sustained knowledge, holi-
ness and power. Sometimes these rays shot forth.
" We beheld his glory ; the glory of the Only-Begotten
of the Father." In authority over tempests and evil
spirits ; in power to heal ; in creative mkacles ; in
searclung of the heart ; in amazing endiuance, forgive-
ness and love ; we behold more of God than aU the
universe beside reveals ; and the point is, that it is re-
vealed to man by man. Perhaps you inquu-e, how

100 THE INCARNATION.

this is a revelation of divinity, since the subject of these
excellencies was truly man ? How can the excellencies
of a man, however exalted, show us the excellency of
God ? My dear brethren, this is a hard question, and
there are difficulties in it which I should dread even
to approach; yet we may coast around a continent
which we dare not penetrate and cannot survey ; and
there are some fixed points here, where we may take
our position amidst a sea of uncertainty. This is more
remarkably true of the moral perfections of God. In
respect to these I would offer two remarks, intended to
show that the revelation of the excellency in Christ Jesus
is a revelation of God.

1. Viitue and holiness, with lowly reverence be it
spoken, is the same in God as in man. Virtue is not
simply a relation of temporal things, but an eternal
quality ; because it is a quahty of the Eternal God.
His command of virtue does not derive its excellence
from God's mere power or arbitrary order, but from his
eternal nature. God is himself the foundation of virtue.
Could we believe the grovelling doctrine of expediency,
or that there is nothing in virtue but its tendency to
produce happiness, we might think otherwise. But
then we might also beheve that the highest happiness
of God and the aggregate happiness of the universe,
require our vice and misery. No, my beloved hearers,
it is a fixed point, equally in morals and divinity, that
holiness in God, though infinitely removed above holi-
ness in man, is still one and the same holiness. The

THE INCARNATION.

101

tnitli of God, the rigliteousness of God, the mercy of
God, and the love of God, are not different qualities
called by the same names, but the same quahties ex-
isting in then* highest power. So that when, in the
God-man, Jesus Christ, we observe the beautiful and
touching manifestation of feehngs, habits and vohtions,
residing in a human subject indeed, but in a human
subject personally one with the divine, we are really
beholding the very excellencies which reside in God.
And by this means we are brought higher in the scale
of morals and nearer to a contemplation of divine hoh-
ness, than would be possible by any or by all other
means. In every word, act and gestm'e of Jesus Chi'ist,
we see the mvisible Godhead breaking forth.

2. Although the natui'e in which obedience was
rendered is the human natm-e, yet it is human nature
in such union with the divine, that the two constitute
but one Person ; and this adorable Person is divine.
Therefore the moral states and acts of the Lord Jesus
Christ, even when proceeding from a human will, are
nevertheless, so far as we are concerned, the moral
states and acts of God. To which we must add, that
the human and the divine will, though not confounded,
as though there were a divine agent in a new human
form, are in perfect consonance ; there is no diversity,
or struggle. In this sense it is but one and the same
WiU ; and thus the revelation of excellency in Cluist
Jesus is a revelation of God.

In contemplatmg the character of Jesus Chiist, we

102 THE INCARNATION.

observe one class of virtues, which you will join me in
regarding as most affecting, and most fully showing the
need of an Incarnation. These are the suffering virtues ;
or those which are evolved under trial and pain. The
first Adam, remaining sinless, would have remained as
painless as God himself. There would never have been
a sigh or a tear in Eden or in Heaven. But after the
introduction of sin into our world, a new class of affec-
tions entered ; and sin has been, by God's mighty wis-
dom, wrested against its own nature, to show forth the
loveliest aspect of the Redeemer's glory. " For it be-
came him," says the apostle, " for whom are all things, and
by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto
glory, to make the Captain of their salvation perfect
through suflPering." * Dear Christian brethren, could
we allow ourselves to be robbed of these delightful,
heart-affecting shades, in the picture of our Lord's life,
or could they have existed mthout an Incarnation?
Tliese tender, gentle excellencies of Christ, are so nume-
rous that they fill your memories of his ministry. His
lowliness, his meekness, his fortitude, his fear, his grief,
his patience, his pity, his forgiveness. Wliich of these
lineaments would you dash out of the pictiu'e ? See him
among the sick and suffering ; at the house of Peter,
the gate of Nain, the plains where he fed thousands, the
bereaved dwelling, and the grave of Lazarus. See him
weary at the well. See him not having where to lay his
head. See him in the upper chamber among the twelve.

* Heb. ii. 10.

THE INCARNATION. 103

See him in the garden, at his trial, and on the cross.
Observe the benignant, yet sorrowing virtues and
graces of these hours, marked with tears and blood, and
say, even though they tcU of human weakness, which of
these would you rehnquish ? Yet, none of them could
have been manifested to us, unless because " the Word
became flesh, and dwelt among us." And, on the prm-
ciple already laid do^vn, these excellencies are not merely
human but divine. The glory of the godhead shines
out, not only in the raismg of the dead, and the pardon
of sins, but in the tears and sighs of compassion, and in
the unexampled ciy, " Not my will, but thine be done."
We may therefore affirm mth confidence, that all the
human character of Christ, as shown in liis ministry on
earth, is really a bright disclosure of the character of
God, such as could be made only by the Incarnation.

But the mention just made of suffering, leads us
most naturally to consider the summing-up of those suf-
ferings in the Cross of om* Lord Jesus Christ, and the
manifestation of God in that complication of agonies.
By the Cross, I mean here the whole series of events in
the close of Christ's ministry as a suff'erer ; his " Cross
and Passion," as going to make up one oblation. And
let it be specially noted that we are not now surveying
this, in its primary intention, as a sacrifice to satisfy
divine justice, but in its character of a manifestation of
God in the flesh ; such a manifestation, moreover, as
could be made only in the flesh, or by the assumption of
humanity. The Son of God looked steadily to this one

104 THE INCARNATION.

termination. In eternal covenant he devoted himself to
manhood and the curse. In his own divine intention he
was " the Lamb slain, from before the foundation of the
world." All the lines of type and prophecy are seen to
converge on this one point. Wlien he became a human
being, every step was towards this consummation. And
at this accursed tree, as at a focal point, all the mani-
festations of God concentre with a bm^ning effulgence.
It is often said, and nothing was ever said more truly,
that all the divine attributes harmonize in the plan of
redemption, and therefore in the death of Christ. It is
not necessary to show this by a formal and labom'ed
catalogue of these perfections. They are all there, as
the hues are all in the rainbow ; but they are there as
constituting a single luminous ray. AU there is of
God seems to pour down on that spot of earth ; and
the channel by which it is conveyed is indicated by
these words, " God is Love." There, in that bleeding
spectacle, all that we behold is in one sense humanity ;
in another, it is godliead.

'*' Here his whole name appears complete;
Nor wit can guess, nor reason prove,
Which of the letters best is writ,
The power, the wisdom, or the love.

Here I behold his inmost heart,
Where grace and vengeance strangely join,
Piercing his Son with sharpest smart,
To make the purchas'd pleasures mine."

THE INCARNATION. 205

The Christianity of all ages has beheld in the human
sufferings of a Divine Person, a manifestation not so
much of man as of God. That one thing which was
wanting in the first Adam, namely, suffering, is here
prominently set forth. This sight of Jesus Christ is
the nearest view we can ever have of God. His unap-
proachable glories forever elude our search, and even
though in pursuit we fly on the wings of the morning,
we behold the radiant throne forever flying before us ;
but in the wounds of Christ, and in his dying counte-
nance, we read the great lesson of manifested divinity.
The Word was made flesh ; called the Word, as being
the Revealer, and in this dying scene, revealing more
than in all ages prc^'ious : " to make all men see what is
the fellowship of the mystery, which, from the beginning
of the world, has been hid in God." Hence, Eph. iii.
19, to " know the love of Christ," is to " be filled with
all the fulness of God."

The Son of God, then, by becoming incarnate, has
made a manifestation of the Godhead, more complete
than the universe has ever known. It is not merely, as
even Unitarians and Deists may believe, that a certain
good man, called Jesus of Nazareth, has taught more
clear, and fuU, and accurate doctrines concerning God.
This is true, but infinitely more is true. This Jesus of
Nazareth, very God and very man, possessing the two
natures in one indivisible divine person, has, in human
guise, and with a human body and soul, so lived, so
spoken, so felt, so acted, and so suffered, as to reveal

105 THE INCARNATION.

the divinity througli the manhood, as it was never re-
vealed before ; and so as to present those attributes
which were otherwise invisible and remote, in near, pal-
pable action. Henceforth, it is not merely Truth, Wis-
dom, Power, and Love, in distant abstractions, but In-
carnate Truth, and Wisdom, and Power, and Love.
Suppose, my brethren, that we were to remove out of the
Scriptures all tliat knowledge of God, which has come
to us through the Lord Jesus Christ, what would be
left ! How would our Christianity be shorn of its
brightest rays ! No ; when we would behold divinity,
we look for the light of his glory as it shines in the
face of Jesus Christ. In him dweUeth aU the fulness
of the Godhead, bodily. So he taught his disciples
that the sight of himself was the sight of God. " Have
I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not
known me, Phihp ? he that hath seen me, hath seen the
Father; and how sayest thou, then, Show us the
Father?" John the Baptist knew this, and testified it in
his last recorded speech. His morning-star " paled its
ineffectual fires " before the rising sun. " He that cometh
from heaven,'* said he, " is above all ; and what he hath
seen and heard, that he testifieth." All the time that
Christ was upon earth, he did not cease to be in heaven
with God. " No man hath seen God at any time ; the
Only Begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father,
he hath declared him." Hence, the Apostle John, in
language othenAdse unintelligible, speaks of the Word of
God, as if subjected to the scrutiny of the senses, 1 John,

THE INCARNATION. jaw

i. 1 ; " wMcli was from the beginning, wliicTi we have
heard, which we have seen vdth orn* eyes, which we
have looked upon, and oiu* hands have handled of the
Word of Hfe." It is Christ who is the great Re-
vealer, even to our understandings ; and no man cometh
unto the Father, even intellectually, but by Him. He
is not simply the Teacher; he is the Word. He is
God himself in revelation. And, as incarnate, he is
God in the flesh : the mirror, the Imninous manifester
of God; the "brightness," or radiant effulgence, or
outshining of his glory, the express image, or sealed
character of his subsistence.

Remembering that it does not become us to in-
trude into those things which we have not seen, we
must not undertake to say by what methods God ^vill
reveal himself to us in the future world. We know
that Christ vnll still be Immanuel, God with us. We
know that he will still bear oiu* nature, forever, in
heaven. We know that the absolute perfections of the
Godhead will never cease to be inaccessible. We know
that our Redeemer will still possess that same love
which has led him to make all previous manifestations.
We know that our own human nature shall then be
brought unspeakably nearer to the human nature of the
Lord Jesus Christ, than it has ever been on earth ; since
it will be freed from aU sin and imperfection; and
since we can scarcely form ideas too high of what the
Lord shall confer on our souls, when he shall change even
" our vile body, that it may be fashioned hke unto his

IQQ THE INCARNATION.

glorious body, according to the working whereby he is
able even to subdue all things unto liimseK." Phil. iii. 21.
And hence, it is surely within the modesty of Christian
conjecture, that when our humanity shall be brought so
much nearer the glorified humanity of the Lord Jesus
Christ, we shall enjoy communications from his divine
natm-e, proportionably surpassing all that has fallen to
our lot here.

In this world, therefore, and in the other, we know
more of God, by the Incarnation, than we could ever
have known without it ; and this is the first point to be
established.

II. By the Incarnation, God is brought near to
our Affections. This, my brethren, is a part of the
subject which involves less of theological argument, but
which comes home more nearly to our hearts. Rehgion
dwells much in the affections, and all intellectual views
are important as tending towards emotion and action.
Stoical philosophy tried in vain to expel human pas-
sions. Our very fife is made up of them, and so far as
we succeed in banishing them, we reduce existence to a
condition such as that the world would be, if all colour
were removed from the objects of nature. But, thanks
be to God, it is in a very small degree that we are ca-
pable of destroying sensibility. Though, by so doing,
we prevent some pain, we still more certainly prevent
all pleasm*e ; and God has wisely constituted us so as to
fear, to hope, to desire, to love, to rejoice and to grieve.

THE INCARNATION. 109

Who is there that needs to be instracted in the power
of human domestic affections? These it is, which
make the charm of home. A hundi'ed pictures rise to
your mind, the more dehghtful, because they are the
product rather of memory than imagination. There are
some things of which fancy may brighten the hues, and
which may be loveher in fiction than in real hfe ; but it
is not so with the affections of warm hearts. The at-
tempt would be

" To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
" To throw a perfume on the violet."

The love of parent to child, of children to parents, and
the conjugal affections from which these spring, are be-
yond description. Dwell a moment on that which was
first named. See the young mother, hanging over her
babe, with a new and overmastering affection, which
has changed her within a few short months from the
buoyant maiden, smmming in the dance of pleasure and
admiration, to be the doting, fearing, indefatigable,
watching parent, whose whole soul is treasured up in
that cradle, and who lives a new life in this experience,
which no one could have described to her, and which
she cannot hope to make credible save by those who
have borne the same burden. Suppose affliction and
illness should come, there is bitterness infused into the
cup ; but the passion has not lost its strength. What
picture is more lovely or more familiar than that of two
parents gazing upon the little ones whom they have

210 THE INCARNATION.

consigned to sleep, as the unconscious objects of their
love he locked in each other's arms ? And often have
we been called to see the same affection cUnging to the
languishing and dying child, and hanging over the dead ;
a faitliful watch-lamp among the tombs. Nor are these
the only instances of strong attachments : I trust there
is not one within the sound of my voice, who is not
himself the subject or the object of such love, which
goes beyond the hues of blood, and dignifies the field
of sacred friendship. Think not, my hearers, that I
have alluded to these acknowledged evidences of feeling
for pui'poses of embellishment or entertainment. They
serve another and more important end; they bring
strongly before your minds the great part which is oc-
cupied by the affections, and remind you how much the
happiness of fife is dependent on them. Staunch the
well-spring of love, and what is left of existence that
would be worth saving ? We might have mteUigence,
purpose, and animal appetite, but we could have no ele-
vation, and no happiness. No, my brethren ; next to
the love of himself, God has given us nothing better
than the love of one another, as it flows forth in all the
mutual relations of society. But, lest you tliink I wan-
der from my topic, let me hasten to trace out the con-
nexion of what has been said, with the loftier topic
wliich engages us. I have instanced in a single affec-
tion, that of love ; but while brevity demanded this, I
would beg you to observe, that most of what has been
offered, has equal appHcation to such other emotions as

THE INCARNATION. |21

may terminate on a good object. We are now there-
fore prepared to remark, that God has brought our
feehugs within the cii'cle of rehgion ; and this in two
respects. He has sanctified these affections by his
grace. He has turned these instincts into duties ; and
has made feehngs which are dehghtful in themselves
part of om- tribute to himself. He has, with his own
finger, inscribed on the second table of the Law, the
household names of husband, wife, father, mother,
son, daughter, servant, and neighbour, and thus made
them sacred. He has proposed to us to receive pay-
ment of duty in the shape of affections and their fruits,
which are themselves a reward. He has enlarged the
cu'cle so as to take in all mankind ; and has said of good
bestoAved on the suffering, " Inasmuch as ye did it to
the least of these my brethren, ye did it unto me."
Christianity has seized upon these natural affections, and
enlarged, pm'ified, refined, and sanctified them. The
theme is inviting ; but I must go on to state a second
respect, in which God has brought our affections mthin
the circle of religion ; for He has, wonderful to de-
clare, peiToitted these affections to terminate on him-
self. This is more amazing than at first appears.
God suffers creatm-es, lately condemned for their sins,
to look up to him with hope, desu*e, pious sorrow, joy,
and love. That we can thus feel toward fellow-crea-
tures, we know ; we experience it every day, to our so-
lace, relief and enjoyment ; but towards God ! how is it
possible ? Siu-ely the thought were impious. Jehovah

112

THE INCARNATION.

is too high to be reached by such affections as ours ;
and such a flight Avere too daring and presumptuous.
Enough were it for us to stand at the foot of Sinai, and
look upwards to the distant Majesty, with another class
of emotions, with reverence, dread, admiring awe, and
solemn fear. Sufficient were it for sinners to know that
God will not consume them with a blaze of his wrath.
And such indeed are the views engendered by the
Law. It can go no further. But ye are not come
to the mount that might be touched, and that burned
fire, nor unto blackness, and darkness, and tempest,
and the sound of a trumpet, and the voice of words j
but ye are come unto Mount Zion, unto the city
of the living God. The whole relation is so changed,
that we approach no longer as servants, but as sons,
and are permitted to pour into the bosom of God
the very same affections which we bestow on beloved
human creatures, only with a greatness of volume in
the tide, such as could not reasonably end on any
thing finite. God, in infinite condescension, permits
us to look on him with a genuine and personal affec-
tion. And it is this which brings the whole matter
clearly within the scope of the present argument ; since
om' proposal is to show that by the Incarnation, God is
brought sufficiently near to be the object of these af-
fections. We have seen how the same glorious event
brought the divine perfections within the range of our
mental vision ; but to stop there, would be but the half
of rehgion. It is not the cold contemplation of certain

THE INCARNATION.

113

attributes, even though divine, which accomphshes our
work. The fii'st and chiefest commandment, yea, the
sum of all, is Thou shalt love. But who can love a
metaphysical abstraction; even' when named by the
name of God ? Who can draw nigh to a Deity so ab-
struse and distant? No contemplation of the glories
of natm'e can do more than excite admii'ation, and per-
haps a modified thankfulness, of the vaguest and coldest
sort. It is the Gospel which brings God nigh. We
do not deny that in the Old Testament there are many
representations of God as a Father, and many views of
his character, as long-suffering and of tender mercy, and
forgiving transgression, such as awaken tender emotions
towards him. But all these are so many anticipations
of the Christian era ; Chi'ist, my brethren, is in the Old
Testament as well as in the New. His name was on
every altar, laver, pillar, vail, and censer, on all the
golden imageiy, and all the cunning work of the taber-
nacle; but it was there in hieroglyphic device and
cipher, such as requii-ed a key, and a practised eye ; and
these were read backwards by the legahsts of Israel,
for want of the knowledge of Christianity. When the
Messiah came, he found them with this law in their
hands, yet devoid of aU generous, melting, loving affec-
tions towards God. A yoke of gaUing, intolerable for-
malism lay on the necks of the whole people. The
general aspect of the Old Testament unquestionably
wears a frown, not in its real intention, but as appre-
hended by those whose hearts were veiled as to its real
8

114 THE INCARNATION.

meaning. The doctrine of the New Testament was
needed to expound the Old. All which is strikingly
confirmed, when we smrey the condition of the modem
Jews, in their rejection of the Lord Jesus Christ. Their
service is slavish. With the Old Testament in their
hands, and read daily in their synagogues, they never-
theless approach God vdth attempts at a hard routine of
ceremonies, which neither they nor their fathers were
able to bear. The grand defect in all their services,
and which they have no means of supplying, is the
want of spiritual fihal love. The total absence of this
among the heathen, is a striking fact in their history.
Even while their poets say, " For we are also His off-
spring ;" none of their books make any part of rehgion
consist in affectionate regard for their deities, even the
chief. No moral duties are referred to any attachment
to the gods, as their motive ; no law says. Thou shalt
love Jupiter or Neptune, or aU the gods, or any of
them. Whereas, when we turn to the New Testa-
ment, or even to the Old as explained by the New, we
observe this exercise of the affections on every page.
And wherever trae religion enters a soul, it works as
strongly as do the natural impulses within us towards a
beloved cucle. The believer looks on God with as real
and as personal affection, as on his children or his
parent, though with a purer and higher flame. He is
not content with the impersonal Deity of the philoso-
pher ; the mere power of Nature, or Soul of the Uni-
verse, which

THE INCARNATION. H^

" Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze,
" Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees,
" Lives through all life, extends through all extent,
" Spreads undivided, operates unspent."

Though these words may be taken in a good sense, the
behever craves more than this. He asks for a personal
God, to whom his soul, as an individual person, may
come. My brethren, I am uttering what may seem
a tniism; but the age demands clear views on this
point. The giant heresy of the age is that which makes
the Universe God. Many years ago, the greatest fe-
male mind of the day said, " The pubHc secret of Ger-
many is Pantheism." That which began in Germany
has spread over France and surrounding countries, and
has appeared among ourselves, m the extravagant teach-
ings of the transcendental infidelity. And there is a
dreadful tendency in such opinions to gravitate from the
schools of philosophy downward to the masses, in the
grosser form of downright Atheism. These opinions
have mingled themselves to a large extent with the po-
litical revolutions of the continent. Let me cite one of
the latest indications : At one of the great conventions
in Germany, lately held, the Hessian delegate, Professor
Vogt, used the following language : " I am for the sep-
aration of Chiu'ch and State ; but only on condition
that what is called the Church be annihilated. The
National Assembly must recognise a chm'ch of unbe-
lief. The time has come, when a man may have per-

1X6 THE INCARNATION.

mission in Germany to be an Atheist." * Such are the
tendencies of modern philosophy ; and they spread more
widely than is thought; among professed, and even
among real Christians, their taint is felt ; and, where
they cannot destroy faith, they succeed in disturbing it.
Thus, a celebrated Christian author of Prussia said to
a friend of mine : " O, that I had your views of God !
O, that I could say thou to him, as to a personal God ! "
My brethren, the believer can approach his God as a per-
son, and with a real, personal, individual affection, as
when a man comes to a friend or father. But in order
to this, there must be that approach through a Me-
diator, which is our principal subject. When Luther
said, "I cannot have an absolute God," Nolo Deum
absolutum, he expressed a great fundamental truth. As
he meant it, the doctrine is, that as a God of Justice,
Jehovah cannot be approached by sinners, save through
a propitiation. But it is true in another sense : we
cannot come to God with a tender, bursting, filial affec-
tion, until we behold him manifested in the Son. He
is distant, towering, abstract ; the object of awful dread,
and marvelling admiration, but not of confiding attach-
ment. God must be brought nigher. Those attributes
of heavenly fearfulness must be translated into the lan-
guage of the heart. The immaterial and evanescent
perfections must be presented in some tangible form.
In the former division, we saw the provision made for

♦ Kirchenfireund, Feb. 1849.

THE INCARNATION.

117

this, in regard to the intellect ; the same provision is
equally available in regard to the heart. " God was
manifest in the flesh ; " manifest first to the understand-
ing, which we have considered ; and, secondly, to the
affections. The problem being, How is human love to
such a being as God possible ? the answer is, We love
God by loving Christ. In these simple words is con-
tained a lesson of religious experience which would, if
properly acted upon, change oui* whole life. It is by
faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, that we behold that as-
pect of God, which awakens tender affection. No man
cometh unto the Father, but by him. TiU this faith
arises within us, God is seen far off, in clouds of angry
justice. Faith manifests him as full of love, and ready
to pai'don and adopt ; and all this tlu'ough Jesus
Christ.

But here the question presents itself, whether we
may encom'age our affections to go forth to Christ, as to
a personal object of love. This does not seem difficult
to one who has in memory the New Testament narra-
tive. In those scenes, Jesus moved among his crea-
tures as a man, and was the object of tender and gen-
erous affections, which are recorded in the book, and
are reproduced in om'selves while we read. Is there
any believer who reads the four gospels, who does not
feel his heart going forth perpetually and increasingly
toward the individual character of the Lord Jesus ? He
who knows nothing of this, in my judgment, knows
nothing yet as he ought to know. It is a sympathy

13^8 THE INCARNATION.

with those who suiTounded the Son of God when he
" was manifest in the flesh." In that narrative, if any-
where, he is " altogether lovely." The eye singles him
out from among aU the scriptural characters, as he
walks by the sea of Galilee ; as he opens his hps upon
the Mount ; as he heals, and feeds, and comforts ; as
he fasts, and prays, and sighs ; as he prepares the disci-
ples for his departure ; and as he finally dies upon the
cross. It is this " historical Christ," a term used in
contempt by Strauss, and his imitators in America,
whom we love ; even after his resurrection, when he ap-
pears to Mary, to Cleopas, to the Apostles, and when
he is caught up from among them into heaven. Now,
we have only to reflect, that though in heaven, he is un-
changed, "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day,
and forever," to satisfy us, that as truly as he was loved
by disciples on earth, so truly he may be loved by us ;
and this, not with a vague approval or admiration of
abstract virtues, but vdth a strong and moving individ-
ual affection. And this is not contradictory to the spirit
of Paul's words, 2 Cor. v. 16 : " Yea, though we have
known Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know
we him no more ;" for here the apostle means to con-
demn and repudiate his former carnal expectation of
Messiah, as a temporal prince. In this very connexion,
Paul is so far from condemning a spiritual affection of
the Redeemer, that he exclaims : " Whether we be be-
side ourselves it is to God ;" that is, " if as our enemies
say, we are transported out of ourselves by enthusiasm.

THE INCARNATION. HQ

SO as to seem deranged, let them know we are animated
by a zeal for God ; for the love of Christ constraineth
us ;" or, as the word means, ' bears us away Hke a
strong and resistless torrent.' It is therefore possible
and lawful to look on the person of our Redeemer with
a strong individual regard ; loving him for every bright
virtue, and gentle word, and beneficent act of his hu-
man pilgrimage ; and ascribing to him the same excel-
lencies, now that he has ascended into heaven. And
experience testifies that this love of the Lord Jesus
Christ is as true and distinct an emotion, in the Chris-
tian's mind, as any which he cherishes towards children
or friends. But here the question meets us. How, or in
what sense is this the loving of God ? How are we
hereby brought any nearer to the Great Supreme ? In
replying briefly to this, I must recall to your mind
what has been said under another head. That which
we love in Jesus Christ, is not his exterior form, of
which the Scriptures wisely give us no details ; but the
lineaments of his spiritual nature ; the moral features ;
the virtues and graces of his inner life ; his humility,
faith, devotion, gentleness, meekness, longsuff'ering, for-
titude, courage, benevolence, and truth. These inter-
nal beauties are manifested by his words, his works, and
his sufferings. The whole Gospel narrative is a record
of them, and as we read, we love. We muse upon them
when the book is laid down, as we do over the letter of
our dearest friend ; nay, we must open it once again,
and look at the very words. The picture is formed in

\2Q THE INCARNATION.

om* mind, and rises before us, as that of a distant hus-
band to the affectionate wife ; but it is a moral image,
and the sum of the traits is hoUness. Now, these spir-
itual attractions, though manifested to us through a hu-
man soul, are nevertheless divine; because Divinity
shines through that manhood. The Godhead, yea, the
whole undivided Godhead, has its union there with hu-
man nature. Nowhere else in the universe is so much
of God presented for our adoration, as in the Lord Jesus
Christ. With every thought, emotion, and volition of
that holy human spirit, there is a present and consent-
ing holiness of the Divine Nature. These vu'tues and
graces have two sides : one toward us, and one toward
heaven. Toward us, all that our eyes behold, is human ;
toward heaven, is the equal and coincident will of di-
vinity. Not only so : while Christ Jesus, as a man, is
manifesting toward us these perfections and attractions,
he is one with God. Though there are two natures,
there is but one person : the glorious person who is
named Christ. The constitution of this adorable Per-
son, was for the very purpose of manifesting God. As
has been fully said, we behold more of God in the face
of Christ, than elsewhere in all the universe. Is not the
question answered, then ? When we love Christ, we
love God. We cannot in any way so intelhgently love
God, as when we love Chiist. And therefore, we need
not be afraid to let our thoughts and powers go out
with all their fulness toward the Son ; we need not be
apprehensive lest we defraud the Pather of his glory.

THE INCARNATION. 121

Christ is God, in human manifestation. The Word
was made flesh. God is incarnate, and as incarnate is
made ours : the Only Begotten Son, who is in the bo-
som of the Father, He hath revealed him. The reverse
method is not so safe. There are some who are full of
high expressions towards God, in general, but who make
little of Christ. Having not come by the only way,
such persons have no true apprehensions of God.
" Whosoever beheveth that Jesus is the Clu^st, is born
of God; and every one that loveth him that begat,
loveth him also that is begotten of hun." " He that
bath the Son, hath hfe ; and he that hath not the Son,
hath not life." This is a great mystery to the world;
but it is understood by the people of God. It is indeed
the great principle of Christianity. But it never could
have entered into human minds to conceive it. How new
and impossible to be foreseen ! This is the reason it is
called a mystery, that, having long been hidden, it is
now made known. How influential ! Religious views
are no longer cold and inoperative. They are brought
witliin the circle of our heart-affections. The Lord
Jesus Chiist, so to speak, sits by our fireside. All our
natiu'al emotions are brought in as auxiliaries to our love
of Christ ; and in loving him, we are performing our
great duty to God. And then how delightful ! Here
it is, in the love of Christ, that the chief happiness of
religion consists. Loving God is no longer an impossi-
bility or an abstraction. We are bound to him by ties
of humanity, as by the " bonds of a man ;" for, " we

122 THE INCARNATION.

are members of his body, of his flesh, and of his
bones."

The great proof that this view is correct, is derived
from an inspection of the New Testament ; for there we
see it to be the view of the early Christians. If, on
looking at these records, we had found it to be other-
wise ; if, for example, we had fomid, either that the
Redeemer was spoken of as one to whom no tribute of
afiection could properly be paid, because he is only a
deceased man ; or, that the Son of God is too highly
exalted, and too far removed, for us to visit him with
our affection ; then, indeed, we should have had good
cause to reject all the doctrine which has been proposed.
But this doctrine meets full confirmation in primitive
experience. " Our fellowship," says the Apostle John,
" is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Clurist."
" Whom, having not seen,'' says Peter, " ye love." He
addresses himself to the body of Christians in many
countries ; it was the common experience of the age.
They loved the unseen Christ. They looked for " that
blessed hope and the glorious appearing of the great
God and our Saviour Jesus Christ." And it was so
radical a distinction between the Christian and the
world, that Paul, in his zeal, declares, " If any man
love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema
maranatha." And after apostohc days, this personal
love to the Lord Jesus was the characteristic of disci-
ples. The expression of the martyr Ignatius is cele-
brated, in its Latin version : Amor meus crucifixus

THE INCARNATION. 223

EST ! I must go further, my brethren, and say, that
this is the great lesson of evangehcal Cliristianity.
Wherever vital piety decays, tliis decays. It takes its
flight long before the alteration of creeds or the denial
of doctrines ; for there may be an age of cold ortho-
doxy unenhvened by one beam of love to the Redeemer.
But when this affection has fled, sound doctrine soon
prepares to spread its wings likewise. Tor a time
there may be accurate metaphysical discussion, contro-
versy about tenets, and even persecution for differences.
But by degrees the Cross is thrust into a corner ; and
at length the propitiatory work of Christ is extenuated
or forgotten. The Atonement being tarnished or ex-
ploded, the Godliead of Christ is soon found to be
superfluous. There is no need of a divine Redeemer
under that easy system of hberal Cluistianity in which
every man is his own saviour. This may account for
the known fact, that among those who reject the Trin-
ity, small account is made of personal love towards the
Lord Jesus Christ. The too frequent allusion to his
double nature and to his redeeming blood becomes
offensive, and the people are in a fair way to forget
that there ever were such spots as Gethsemane or
Golgotha. Whereas, in direct opposition to this, when-
ever vital piety revives, there is a marked revival of love
to Jesus Christ. It was so at the Reformation, and it
will be more gloriously so in the centuries of light
which are to come. Wherever a genuine convert is
made from heathenism, his heart is expanded with a

124 THE INCARNATION.

new affection, love to the crucified Redeemer. In
their best moments, Christians of every age and country
have risen in love to God manifest in the flesTi. This
is witnessed by the thousands of hymns and spiritual
songs in which Christian affection has poured itself
forth in all the languages of Christendom. We need not
except the Greek and Latin hymns of the early church,
before the rise of papacy : some of which have provi-
dentially been retained even among many corruptions.
The lyric effusion of some favom'ed moment of mi-
wonted transport in an individual samt, being consigned
to the care of poetry and music, thus became part of
the worship of the whole church. At the Reformation,
songs in an unknown tongue were suddenly exchanged
for those in the vulgar tongues, and thousands of hymns
to Christ burst forth over Germany, Switzerland, Hol-
land, France, and Britain. The piety thus reviving
continued from century to centuiy, and for the same
object. So far from shunning the death of the Lord, it
was Christ on the cross that, above all things, attracted
their hearts, because it was here that most was seen of
God manifest in the flesh. How many a night of
afiliction has been brightened by this vision ! How
many a dying lip has made the name of Jesus its last
articulation !

V.

THE WORLDLING.

THE WORLDLING *

Philippiaiis iii. 19.
" Who mind earthly things."

The pencil of inspiration, by one rapid sweep, often
depicts a whole class of human souls. In the present
instance, the view given of ungodly men, in a single
fearful aspect, is important enough to be severed from
its most interesting context, and made the object of our
profound consideration. The apostle, with deep Chris-
tian feehng, is here describing the people of the world.
He closes this description with the hint which I have
selected. It is the portrait of all unrenewed persons,
however widely they may differ in other respects. They
mind earthly things. The word is peculiar in its force ;
they set their minds upon earthly things, think of

* New York, October 3, 1852.

123 THE WORLDLING.

them, think much of them, yea, constantly and su-
premely. Earthly things, and not heavenly, fill their
minds and occupy their regard and afiections. And
this charge, which to careless, unenlightened souls may
seem quite a trifling one, is so grave in Paul's estima-
tion, that it moves him to tears, and he weeps while he
writes. It is this minding of earthly things, as charac-
teristic of unbeheving men, which we are about briefly
to consider.

Readers of the Scriptures have observed that two
great opposing spheres are often held up to view ; one
as engaging the hearts of the ungodly and one of the
godly. They are the earth and heaven, verses 19, 20,
this world and the world to come ; things visible and
things invisible ; the present and the future ; the world
and Clu'ist; Mammon and God. AU these are the
same in substance ; and the contrast or opposition is
complete and irreconcilable. According to these two
sets of objects, or two worlds as we may call them, the
whole race of men is divided into two portions ; the
World, an expressive term for all that is opposed to God
and the Chm^ch, or people of the hving God.

It may as clearly be presumed that the noble crea-
ture whom we caU man, was not made to spend his
powers on passing sublunary things, as that he was not
made to browse with the ox or grovel with the serpent.
A consideration of his powers shows that he was des-
tined for eternity and for God. Revelation has for its
great end to set before him the objects which are suited

THE WORLDLING. 129

to these capacities. Their residence in the present Hfe
is a period of grace, in which men under the gospel are
invited to rise from eartlily towards heavenly things ;
and it is the principal work of the Holy Spirit to invite,
win and attract men to the pursuit and enjoyment of
spiritual reaUties.

Notwithstanding which, we have before us the con-
tinual spectacle of the majority of mankind worshipping
the creature, forgetting God, and Hving for the present
fleeting hour. For them, heaven and hell, the law and
its satisfaction, eternity and God, are as though they
were not ; sending forth no moulding influence. For
them, the present world is heaven enough, if they could
only make it siu"e ; and they would rejoice in a decree,
which should fix their abode here forever. Let us look
a little more closely at this side of our common human
nature.

It requires but a glance at the busy crowds around
us to perceive that the great things of the soul and of
eternity do not absorb their chief interest. Whether
you judge them by their words or their company, by
what they do or leave undone, you find them to be " of
the earth, earthy." This is the more striking, when you
contrast with it their high-v^Tought zeal in all that con-
cerns the present life. When personal honour and ap-
plause or family distinction are in view, no labom* seems
too great ; and under the goad of fashionable rivalry,
they expend language, time, and even thousands of
money, which proves too well how much they are in
9

130 THE WORLDLING.

earnest. In this race they will suffer none to leave
them behind ; and we have lived to see high professors
in the church, whose manner of household life, equipage,
and entertainments, leave us marvelhng what those
pomps and vanities of the world can be, which they
have renounced as followers of Christ, or where we are
to look for cross-bearing, godly simplicity, and self-
denial. Our Lord certainly had a meaning when he set
forth the imminent peril to the soul, which comes from
worldly riches ; and I suppose the wealth against which
he warned his followers, M^as less than that of many who
hear me, but who feel no danger. The way in which
worldly possessions jeopard the soul, is by occupying
the affections, leading the heart away from God and
divine things, to take its contentment in the good things
of this life. This is serving Mammon ; making a god
of present things ; giving the supreme regard to that
which is perishing ; and it is declared to be inconsistent
with the love of God. The minister of the gospel, as
one ** who must give account," must not shun to exhibit
this danger to those who are possessed of worldly
goods. Whether they will hear or forbear, his com-
mission is explicit : " Charge them that are rich in this
world, that they be not high-minded, nor trust in un-
certain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us
richly all things to enjoy." The trusting in riches,
here intended, is the setting of the mind on them as the
source of comfort ; making them a staff and stay ; re-
lying on them, as a provision against trouble ; indulging

THE WORLDLING. ^3]^

a secret complacency in them, as making us better
than others, who have lost them or have never attained
them ; and flattering ourselves at the supposed security
of om* oAvn acquisitions, as compared vrith the precarious
fortunes of others. Those who so live, whether in the
church or out of it, are minding earthly things and
estranging their hearts from the living God, who giveth
us all things richly to enjoy.

But it would be unwise to hmit our view of the
eai'thhness of worldly riches to the use which is made
of them while actually possessed. A large part of the
human family is engaged in the hot pursuit ; some
with success, and many more with disappointment.
This variety in the result makes no difference, however,
in the temper of mind with which the seeming goal is
sought. We need only open our eyes, at mid-day, in
any great commercial city, to learn that this is the prime
mover in all the complex and indescribable commotion
of human business. Mistake me not; I am not de-
nouncing activity in business, or even the pursuit of
wealth, simply considered. As a chief instrument of
happiness in this hfe, it may be sought in different de-
grees and from different motives ; moderately or im-
moderately ; selfishly or benevolently ; with an entire
absoi-ption in the creature, or with an hourly reference
of all to God. But I will afiirm, and none will soberly
deny it, that, as a matter of fact, the multitude, the
majority, the mass of men thus engaged day and night
with impetuous, feverish, often delirious haste, are actu-

132 THE WORLDLING.

ated by no impulses but those which spring from the
creature, and thus that they mind earthly things. This
is what they live for ; for this they make their sacri-
fices and run their risks. This occupies their thoughts,
at rising, and as they hurry through the great emporium,
at desks and places of trade, in the retirement of the
evening and the intervals of night. It is this which
excludes prayer, meditation, the Scriptures, the care of
the soul, the seeking of Christ's kingdom and righteous-
ness. The desire is not quenched by successes. No
philosopher has discovered the point at which insatiable
avarice can consent to admit that it is rich enough.
We know of no principle recognised by the world on this
point, but this, that every man must be as rich as he
can. Great accumulations do but stimulate the appe-
tite for more, and the close of life, instead of being de-
voted to quiet preparation for death and eternity, is
frequently harassed by more vexing cares of acquisition
than its youthful dawn. The point of the charge is,
that God is shut out. For this no reasonable and im-
mortal creature can frame an apology. He drives a
hazardous bargain who barters away his opportunity of
salvation. " For what shall a man give in exchange
for his soul ! " Yet look abroad, and behold the face
of society. The broad and thronged avenue is filled
with human beings, rushing towards the gates of death,
all engrossed in that which perishes even while it is
obtained. We need no longer wonder that the church
dwindles, and that few are added to the company of

THE WORLDLING. 133

God's people. There is a contagion in the evil, and
every day fresh thousands yield themselves to the same
impulse. Unless God break the spell, unless he seize
upon them by the strong hand of the Spirit, these de-
luded beings will die as they have hved, and, plunging
into a state whither they can carry no earthly gains,
will learn by experience what it is to gain the world
and lose their own souls.

The brief description of the text includes the lovers
of pleasure. Either in the pauses of business, or as
their whole employment, great numbers of persons
spend their time in seeking amusement, recreation, the
satisfying of curiosity, appetite or passion. This host
includes most who are in youth, but many also who
tread on the confines of age. It needs no laboui'ed ar-
gument to show that these mind earthly things. They
are hving as though they had no souls. They are lovers
of pleasure more than lovers of God. It is common to
speak of such as amiable and good-natured, or as in-
juring none but themselves. But no persons are more
intensely selfish, than the confirmed devotees of pleasure.
Their motto is, Who will show us any good ? What
shall we eat, and what shall we di'ink, and wherewithal
shall we be clothed ? There are none more bound to
the earth. There is no temper more incompatible with
religion, or with the serious pm-suit of it. Hence the
reiterated injunctions of our Lord to those who woidd
follow him, to leave all, to deny themselves, and to take
up the cross daily. Hence also the striking admonitory

134 THE WORLDLING.

pictures of the rich man clad in purple and fine linen,
and faring sumptuously every day ; of the young ruler,
who ^vent away sorrowful ; and of him who said to his
soul, " Take thine ease ; eat, drink, and be merry."
The entertainments and pleasures of an easy life destroy
tens of thousands, who nevertheless never fall into open
and flagrant vices. Satan's end is sufficiently gained,
when, by immersing them in thoughts of the present
world, he can keep them away from all consideration of
eternal things.

What a horrid fraud Satan is practising on the
church, in regard to the daughters of the covenant !
In fashionable circles — dare I name them Christian — •
the years where girlhood merges into maturity are fre-
quently sold to the adversary. The young American
woman is taught to deem herself a goddess. If there be
wealth, if there be accomplishment, if there be beauty,
almost a miracle seems necessary to prevent the loss of
the soul. Behold her pass from the pedestal to the
altar. The charming victim is decked for sacrifice.
Every breath that comes to her is incense. Her very
studies are to fit her for admiration. Day and night
the gay but wretched maiden is taught to think of self
and selfish pleasures. Till some Lenten fashion of
solemnity interrupt the whirl, the season is too short
for the engagements. Grave parents shake theii' heads
at magnificent apparel, costly gems, night turned into
day, dances at which Romans would have blushed, pale
cheeks, bending frames, threatened decay ; and yet they

THE WORLDLING. 2 35

allow and submit. And thus that sex, which ought to
shew the sweet unselfish innocency of a holy youth, is
earned to the overheated temples of Pleasure. Thus
the so-called Christian verifies the apostle's maxim,
" She that hveth in pleasure is dead while she hveth."

But it is needless to classify worldlings. Their
number is so great that we can scarcely move without
encomitering them ; and it is well if we do not find our-
selves infected with the same disease. The god of this
world has brought them under his incantation, by
blinding their minds. He magnifies to their apprehen-
sions the gains and exaltations of sensible things ; he
colom's the pleasm-es of life ; he shuts out the futm-e, the
spiritual and the divine. That ardour with which they
run their short career, would be worthy of a better ob-
ject. Alas for them ! they are building on the sea-sand,
and the tempestuous waves will soon overwhelm their
confidence.

Let me veiy earnestly put it to the mind and con-
science of every hearer, whether he belongs to this class
or not. The Scriptures divide the aggregate of all that
the human soul can pursue with deske into two great
worlds, the eartlily and the heavenly. Every man living
is intent on one or the other ; and no man can attain
both. There can be no compromise. Ye cannot serve
God and Mammon. Ye cannot mind earthly things,
and at the same time mind heavenly things. If any
man love the world, the love of the father is not in him.
Nay, he that loves the world is at enmity with God.

136 THE WORLDLING.

So much is at stake, that you cannot be too earnest in
the self-examination. Here you may bring your inward
character to a test. Ask not whether you have at some
former period been admitted to the external church ;
thousands have been thus admitted, without any change
of nature. But ask, which of these two worlds has
your heart? Are you living under the power of the
world to come? Does its awful shadow fall across
your path, and give solemnity to your purposes ? Do
you go about the business of every day under the deep
impression that all these things are perishing, that this
is not your rest, that presently God your Judge, whose
penetrating eye is always upon you, wiU call you hence,
to give an account of the deeds done in the body ?
Are you seeking a home and kingdom which cannot be
moved ? Is your treasure laid up in heaven, and is
your heart there ? Do you look for your choicest grati-
fications in divine things, in heavenly truth, and in
communion with God ? Are you jealous of every thing,
however usual or valuable among men, which removes
your thoughts from the great invisible world in which
your true possessions lie ? And do you feel yourself a
pilgrim, who can enjoy no settled and satisfying rest
till you reach a Avorld from which sin is to be forever
absent ? These are questions which admit of an answer.
Or, on the other hand, are your thoughts at waking
wholly upon the things of time and earth? Do these
things occupy your most active endeavom's and employ
your words ? Are you bent with aU your energies on

TECE WORLDLING. |37

the acquisition or preservation of gain, pleasure, ease,
or fame ? And is this so fully your turn of mind, that
you seldom pray, or seldom with any engagement of
heart ; seldom think of God ; seldom meditate on the
eternity to which you are hastening ; and seldom feel
your sins to be such a burden as to force you to flee to
Christ for rehef ? Such is the case of many, of most ;
and if it be yoiu's, then know assuredly that you mind
earthly things.

But I am not permitted to leave you with the bare
conviction that this is your state. A superficial per-
suasion of this, as an undoubted fact, has often come
over you, without producing any change in your way of
life. Consider with me, I pray you, the quahty, char-
acter and end of this yoiu* chosen com-se.

1. To mind earthly things, as the great paramount
object, is degrading. It is unworthy of an immortal
intelligence. You were made for better things. You
were no more framed to fill your boundless capacities
with these fleeting vanities, than to take the pleasure
of the beast, bii'd, or insect. That nature of yours
was once in the image of God, and still sighs for a
restitution, which, through grace, is attainable. The
course you pursue belies and repudiates your im-
mortality. Your animated breathless chase of these
temporahties, when translated into its true import,
speaks thus : " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we
die." You are prostituting a noble instrument to an
ignoble use. This is the secret cause of those disgusts

138 THE WOKLDLING.

wliich you often feel. Earthly things have not done for
you that which they promised. They have not made
you happy ; they have often left you weary, sated, dis-
appointed, and smarting. Some of your earlier pleasures
have already lost their exquisite zest. Increase of years
has brought weakness, repining, and bitterness. Accu-
mulation of worldly goods has failed to give you com-
fort in proportion. Nay, if you will own the mortifying
truth, you are less tranquil and satisfied than in former
days. Many things on which you rehed, have been
taken from you, and for many that remain yom' appe-
tite has died away. The foam of your brimming cup
has been blown away, and you are endeavouring to
cheer yourself with the dregs. Confess it, O my earthly
hearer, and add the solemn consideration, that you are
a spiritual, immortal, and accountable being, who wiU
before long be hurried into the presence of Eternal
Judgment. In reference to this, your great and cer-
tain destiny, the objects which interest you have no
weight, except to condemn you. Having lived so long,
you have not yet begun to live in view of your endless
existence ; and painfid as is the charge, it is nevertheless
just, that your whole course thus far has been such as
to lower the true dignity of your nature, as one of God's
immortal creatures.

2. To mind earthly things involves incalculable loss.
Men are prompt to avoid losses in that which concerns
worldly possessions. But those who live altogether for
this life, lose an entire class of pleasm'cs and benefits.

THE WORLDLING. 139

To them one avenue of happiness, and that the greatest,
is closed. The higher faculties of the soul are unem-
ployed. The gifts and consolations and delights of re-
ligion are unknown to them. Communion with God
— a wide, expressive term — ^is all a mystery. They
lose the pleasm-es of holy truth, and the witness of a
conscience pacified by the blood of Christ. They lose
the intercom-se of faith and devotion with an unseen
world and a benignant Saviour ; the calm, hopeful an-
ticipation of death ; and the rapturous contemplation of
glories yet in reserve. They lose the sense of God's
favom- and the consciousness that they have entered on
a progress of disciphne and improvement which shall
never end. In a word, they lose all that we mean by
religion.

To some of you, my hearers, this seems no great
loss. So wedded are you to the world, your idol, that
you can look for happiness to no other source ; no, not
even to God. Yet I am bound to protest to you, that
Wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness ; and that you
forsake them to your infinite loss.

3. Hear me yet farther, when I solemnly declare to
you, that to mind earthly things is to inciu* fearful
guilt. It is sinful. It is contrary to God's holy will,
and to his express commandment. It is wounding to
your conscience, which still makes you feel the differ-
ence between right and wrong, and rebukes and pim-
ishes you for this habitual sin of yoiu* life. You admit
to yourselves, that you were not made for this world

140 ™E WORLDLING.

only ; that you are the creatures and subjects of God,
bound to do bis pleasure, and that be demands of
you to love bim witb beart, soul, strength, and mmd.
No doubt there have been moments in which your
worldly pleasures have been embittered by the thought,
that you were enjoying them in opposition to the known
will of your Creator, Benefactor, and Preserver. Look-
ing back on the long course of years, which you have
spent without God, you have no moral complacency in
it. It has not been the life which a dependent, favoured
creature should have led. To have thus preferred cre-
ated things to God, and made them the som'ce of your
happiness, to the exclusion of the Great Supreme, must
appear to you, in any honest retrospect, all glaring
with the colom's of idolatiy. It is ample ground of
condemnation, that you have not made choice of God,
but year after year have made choice of the world.
And the proper consideration of this might bring you
to repentance and to the foot of the cross. O that you
could be induced to meditate profoundly on this charge
brought against the ungodly world, that they mind
earthly things !

4. To mind earthly things involves peril of eternal
destruction. I use a strong term, because the strongest
I can use is hkely to leave the worldly mind unim-
pressed. Yes, the man who deliberately chooses this
world sets himself against God ; and, oh, hov/ unequal
is the contest ! He has his reward. In this life he
has his good things, and many a despised Lazarus evil

THE WORLDLING. 141

things ; but you remember the reverse, indicated by
the parallel. The world passeth away and the lust
thereof. All that is in the world, the lust of the flesh,
the lust of the eye, and the pride of hfe, all is rapidly
fleeing ; and when it has fled, the worldhng's heaven
has fled with it. Here, in this present state, he chose
his paradise. No eyes had he to behold any thing be-
yond. Revelation and its ministers warned him of the
unstable basis on which he was rearing his tall and
costly structure, and sought to win him or alarm him
to take the glass and look towards that city which hath
foundations. But in vain. In all this he could make
out nothing like reality, nothing to be an actuating mo-
tive. Living amidst the things of sense, and alive
every moment to theii' palpable pressure, he took into
none of his accounts that invisible state whose awful
sweep, comprising God and angels and saints and all
that is holy and ennobling, encircled him; nor that
solemn eternity into which he was about to make the
irrevocable plunge. And when the hour struck, which
he so dreaded while he scarcely believed, the hour of
his separation and departure, it found him still with
clenched hands, striving to retain the things of time,
and torn away bleeding and despairing from the earth
which he had preferred to God. Read his doom in the
brief but pregnant words of the context : Whose end is
destruction ! It is the lot of those who forget God.

There is reason to fear, that more are incurring
this danger than are willing to beheve it. The very

142 THE WORLDLING.

closeness of tlieir attacliment to the objects of sense
makes them msusceptible of impressions from divine
reahties. In regard to these, they hear as though they
heard not ; hstening to the voice of admonition as the
antediluvians hstened to the forebodings of Noah, or as
the men of the plain received the warnings of Lot. For
persons thus infatuated, what hope can there be ? What
shall hinder their dying as they have lived ? Nothing
human, my brethren, but a bold, sudden and determinate
resolution, to give up this world for the sake of another ;
to distrust the specious fallacies of sense and give cre-
dence to the testimony of God. Here, indeed, I am
made to feel my own insufficiency. How solemn is the
position of a minister of Christ ! Placed amidst perish-
ing fellow-mortals, to entreat them to escape from im-
pending ruin, he finds them deaf to all his arguments
and solicitations. Year after year he comes to them, with
such pleas and motives as his closest research and most
earnest prayers can enable him to ofier. Yet he finds
the same hardness and resistance only augmented, as
years roll on and the cords of evU habit are wound
about them more indissolubly. One after another drops
away, whom we dare scarcely follow in their flight into
the worlds unknown. The ranks close upon the vacan-
cies they make, and the battle of cupidity, pleasure, and
ambition rages on as before. It is in such cu'cum-
stances that we lend a wistful ear to the oracle which
proclaims from heaven, " Not by might, nor by power,
but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of hosts." Our wait-

THE WORLDLING. 143

ing eyes are unto God, for the outpouring of his Holy
Spirit. And next to this, and as instrumental of this,
our appeal is to the professed people of God, that they
would join their prayers for the awakening and conver-
sion of an ungodly world. It was the contemplation
of souls thus besotted and endangered, which extorted
fi-om Paul the pathetic burst which accompanies my
text : " Tor many walk of whom I have told you often,
and now tell you even weeping, whose end is destruc-
tion, who mind earthly things ! " Beloved brethren,
I should hail it as the brightest promise which has ever
gilded these feeble laboui^s among you, if there should
be apparent in the midst of us a deep, extensive, and
tender concern in the hearts of professing Clmstians, for
those who are wedded to earthly things. Suffer me,
with all sincerity, to commend this to you as a subject
suitable for your prayers ; in private, in your famihes, in
social devotion, and in the house of God. For unless it
please God to send revival, our outward increase will
be but the signal for om' inward decay.

If numbers were strength we should be strong.
But mere numbers are fallacious. If souls are not
brought to God by converting grace, in due proportion,
our extension is but a weakening process, resulting in
unhealthy plethora. Let me confess it, my respected
brethren, the thought often occurs to me, that of this
bort of enlargement we already have too much ; it may
be our temptation and our snare ; it may invoke God's
chastening. If we are selfish, if we wrap ourselves up

144 THE WORLDLING.

in complacency, if we " number the people," if we sum
up the wealth represented within these walls, for any
purpose except to rebuke our sin and quicken our ac-
tivity, if we hug our easy privileges, and refuse to
break the charm and go forth to the help of weaker con-
gregations ; we may confidently expect, first checks and
then visitations. When I look fearfully upon this great,
compact, and harmonious assembly, and consider its
resources and strength, and then around us and near us
behold numerous weak and strugghng chm'ches, which
need money far less than they need men, I cannot resist
the conviction, that a considerable body of self-denying
men, with their families, ought, by concerted action, to
go forth as an evangelical colony ; and if the fifty best
and ablest of the flock should do so to-morrow, while
friendship would weep over the wound, I should give
thanks over it, as the best day of my life. But to pro-
duce such dispositions we need a new spirit. Christian
professors, to whom we look as leaders, will have to
learn fresh lessons of moderation, temperance, and re-
gard for weak brethren. They will have to separate
the amusements of their children by a more visible line
from the amusements of a world lying in wickedness.
They will cease to plead for Baal, and to frame excuses
for aU that their soul lusteth after. Rehgion will be-
come the grand, paramount aff'air of life. Heavenly
joys over the salvation of the oiffspring whom you have
encouraged to prefer every thing to God, will render
needless and even abhorrent the worldly pleasures in

THE WORLDLING. 145

whicli you now inconsistently indulge. How shall this
change be brought about ? Know ye, that God has
manifold ways of effecting it ; and among these the
way of trial and affliction. If you are his, he will use
even this, rather than suffer you to perish. Let our
eyes be unto the Lord, saying with intense desire,
" Wilt thou not revive us again, that thy people may
rejoice in thee ! "

10

VI.

THE SCOENER

THE SCORNER *

Pboveebs iii. 34.
Surely He scoraeth the scorners."

That mode of irreligion which the wisest of kings
so often stigmatizes under the name of scorning, makes
itself known in every age. It is the derision of that
which is good, and has its origin in ignorance, folly,
and sin. The contempt, sometimes producing ridicule,
which scoffs at wisdom and holiness, is begotten of
that pride which "was not made for man," and which
is hateful to God. To despise that which is heavenly
is not a lower degree of wickedness, but passes the bor-
ders of the flagitious. Hence we should regard the
very beginnings of such a temper vidth great jealousy,
and should be willing to examine its signs and nature,

* New York, February 21, 1858.

.X50 '^^^ SCORNER.

in order to secure ourselves against its contagion. In
treating the subject, we shall find it profitable to begin
with lower degrees of the evil, and thence to trace its
progress. To laugh or jeer in regard to that which dis-
pleases us is from a disposition which needs no ai'tificial
fostering. The opinion of Lord Shaftesbury, that " Ridi-
cule is the test of falsehood," will find few serious de-
fenders in our day. The laugher's side is not always
the side of reason ; as we might show by referring to
the ridicule heaped upon many a great enterprise and
improvement in science and art ; the satire lasting in
almost every case until it was put to shame by manifest
success. That form of impotent contempt which we
call sneer, belongs by pre-eminence to those who are to
some extent conscious of being least armed with reason.
Many a mischievous hand can fling the fire-cracker or
the squib, which could neither wield the sword nor aim
the rifle. Those were not aU heroes who " called for
Samson out of the prison-house," that he might make
sport for them. All the world over, the derisive portion
will be found the weakest ; and this upon solid prin-
ciples. The love of truth and practice of goodness,
always allied, have a certain pure simphcity and candid
uprightness which disincline the mind to take pleasure
in the inferiority of others. Whatever in us is unself-
ish and benignant revolts against making spoil of a
neighbour's dehnquency. And^ with reverence be it
said, the trait is divine, for " God is mighty and de-
spiseth not any." Job. xxxvi. 5. But ridicule cast on

THE SCORNER. ;^52

our fellows proceeds from contempt, and contempt is a
mode of pride. Hence the lower down \ve go in the
scale of morals and civilization, the greater fondness do
we find for the language of scornful raillery. Little
minds, incompetent to forge or handle massive links of
argument, find a petty satisfaction in teazing, cavil, and
sarcastic irony. The number of such minds is greater
than that of powerful reasoners and men of insight, and
we must be content to leave them in the enjoyment of
their characteristic warfare. Their buzzing assaults on
rehgion are perpetually reminding one of the lesser but
annoying plagues of Egypt. And such characters,
fond of vexatious sayings, and growing in piquancy as
they fall into the " sere and yellow leaf," need much
grace to keep them from becoming scoffers.

The evil of ungenerous contempt and acrid censure
becomes more imminent where there is some pretension
to \vit or humour. Very few of a thousand possess
wit ; scarcely one of the thousand does not sometimes
attempt it. Perhaps there has never been an age which
so overvalued the ludicrous, in speech and hteratm-e, as
this of om^s. The populace cries out for what is comic on
the stage, and on the platform ; and the periodical jour-
nal is incomplete, unless, like noble houses in the olden
time, it maintains its clown. The vdse man had this in
his eye, when he said : " As the crackling of thorns
under a pot, so is the laughter of the fool. This also is
vanity." Ecc. vii. 6. We would contentedly leave the
jester to wear his motley, if he confined his witticism to

152 THE SCORNER.

his owii ring ; but when he brings his gibes and grim-
aces into the sanctuary of God, and seeks to provoke
mirth with holy things, we must silence and debar him.
And yet how common is it to connect divine subjects
with the ludicrous, and even the burlesque. As true
wit involves some surprise, some unexpected turn, some
sudden apposition of opposites, that which is false finds
a certain spmious zest in low, trivial, even vile sugges-
tions, forced into contrast with ideas of Eternity and
God. Therefore, as a Har will swear in his common
talk to add credence to his doubtful word, and a fool
will throw imprecations into the scale to give weight to
his feeble reasoning, -so your vulgar jester resorts to pro-
fane abuse of religious objects, that he may startle the
scrupulous, or extort laughter from the stupid. A
verse of Scripture, a psalm or hymn, the text of a dis-
course, or some chance expression in a sennon, serves
such a one, even mth repetition, as a counterfeit coin
serves a shai'per. The mental poverty, the irreverence,
and even the lewdness, of such pretenders, render them,
sooner or later, disgusting to aU whose judgment is
worth asking. But their foUy and degradation are less
to be regarded by us than their sin ; for we violate the
Third Commandment when wc trifle mth God's name,
titles, and worship, or when we profane his Word by
associations which are ludicrous. So that I would
solemnly charge it upon those who do not wish to de-
stroy souls, that they shun with pious fear aU tales, an-
ecdotes, and jests, which defile by their touch any

THE SCORNER ]^5;3

Scriptural passage, and that they avoid the intercourse
of those debased minds who descend to such resoui'ces.

The great adversary of souls has so many snares for
the feet of pilgrims, that we cannot be too wary in re-
gard to the imperceptible passage from what seems in-
nocent or venial, to what is really wicked. From idle
words about God's holy Scripture, youthful heedless-
ness is beguiled step by step, into by-paths of positive
impiety. Satan's emissaries are generally near, ready
to help on the error. Seducers try their victims first
by milder approaches ; and he or she who hstens with-
out protest or indignation, is beheved to invite further
liberties. If your unclean but amusing friend finds
you tolerant of his ridiculous parody on a prophet and
apostle, or the Lord himself, he will make bold to vent
a sneer at doctrine, at principle, at law, at the gospel,
at the veiy Cross of the Blessed Jesus. Beware, my
youthful friend, how you cross the threshold of irrever-
ence. The conversation of wicked persons is danger-
ous, their intimacy is defiling, their settled friendship is
destructive. Walk not " in the counsel of the ungod-
ly ;" stand not " in the way of sinners," lest at length
you come to sit " in the seat of the scornful."

The beginnings of all transgression are remote, and
the descents gradual. The soul would fly back in lior-
ror, if those extreme turpitudes were proposed, to which
it will nevertheless come at length. Hence the derision
of heavenly things must be presented at first under
some less appalling form. For example, nothing is es-

154 THE SCORNER.

teemed more lawful and acceptable in society, than
ridicule of professing Christians. Their preciseness and
supposed hypocrisy, their alleged breaches of engage-
ment, their singularities of life or devotion, especially
their real failings, backslidings and sins, become almost
the stock in trade of the small dealer in chm'ch scandal.
One might readily think, from the censor's complacent
chuckle over the inconsistencies and falls of Christians,
that every such delinquent was a scape-goat to bear away
his own sins. Every successive generation has had its
several crop of disparaging or opprobrious names, by
which to designate God's children, in the dictionary of
the scomer. They are the ' Zealots,' ' Devotees,' ' Pre-
cisians,' ' Puritans,' ' Methodists,' the ' Saints,' the
' Godly.' " They that sit in the gate, speak against
me," says the Psalmist, " and I was the song of the
drunkards." * The gatherings of ungodly men, in all
ages, have been enlivened by the grateful strain of a de-
rision aimed at serious and conscientious persons ; and
the playhouse, a synagogue of Satan, shakes mth vo-
ciferous mirth, when the scruples of pure minds are
held up to contempt. The prophet declares his separa-
tion from such assemblages : Jer. xv. 17 : "I sat not
in the assembly of mockers, nor rejoiced." If there is
any meaning in what Scripture says of God's special re-
gard for those who trust in him, let mockers beware
how they choose them, in their rehgious character, as
objects of indignity.

* Ps. Ixix. 12.

THE SCORNER. J 55

Ministers of the Gospel, though in a sense pubhc
representatives of Christ's cause, are individually as
open to criticism as any persons on earth. Not only
are they compassed about with human infirmity, they
are made by their very post pecuharly conspicuous. It
is not wonderful that they have sustained showers of
scorning. Especially if they have upheld the majesty
of law, if they have denounced vice, if they have i-un
counter to the fasliionable, Hcentious, apostate Chris-
tianity of the day, if they have preached the sovereignty
of God and the gratuity of salvation, they have had
obloquy and contempt for their lot. Many a shaft is
aimed at the heart of religion, through the person of
the ministiy ; for he who would be afraid to reproach
Chi'ist, may attain the same end by satirizing his ser-
vants. Let the ambassadors of God lift up then- voice
against any prominent abuse, and straightway the jour-
nals, which reflect the baser interests and grudges of
society, will beset their path mth greetings hke those
which David received from Shimei, the son of Gera,
who " came forth, and cursed still as he came, and cast
stones at David." 2 Sam. xvi. 5. And if the preachers
of the Word were more fully to discharge their func-
tion in declaring that gospel which is foolishness to the
unenhghtened and a stumbling-block to the proud,
they would be yet more " filled with the scommg ot
those that are at ease, and with the contempt of the
proud." Ps. cxxiii. 4.

Upon further inquiry, we shall find, however, that

X56 THE SCORNER.

all this opposition to the persons of Christians, has a
deeper origin, in hostility to the spirit, principles, and
life of religion. The pride, the scorn, the contemptuous
laughter, the mahgnant sneer, which are a sort of per-
secution, directed against those who uphold Christ's
cause, are immediate products of depravity, and of the
carnal mind, which is enmity against God. The an-
tagonism is one of ages ; nay, it is one pointed out by
prophecy : " I will put enmity between thee and the
woman, and between thy seed and her seed." Cain and
Abel are types of the scoffing world, and the suffering
church. The first-born man "was of that wicked one,
and slew his brother. And wherefore slew he him ?
Because his own works were evil, and his brother's
righteous." To which the loving Apostle adds the
caution : " Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate
you." 1 John iii. 12, 13. A similar allusion to a typical
pair of brothers, is indicated by Paul, when he says of
Ishmael and Isaac : " But as then, he that was bom
after the flesh persecuted him that was born after the
Spirit, even so it is now." Gal. iv. 29. The mutual
repugnance is radical, being between contraries infinite-
ly remote, that is, holiness and sin. The modes of ex-
hibiting this proud hostility are various. One of the
most frequent, and that which we are now concerned
with, is the arrogant derision of what is good, as evinced
by manner, gesture, language, act, or the silence of bit-
ter contempt.

The great standard of right is God's perfect Law, in

THE SCORNER. ]^5'j'

which all moral excellence is summed up, as light is
gathered in the sun. Holy minds admire and love the
law, feeling themselves sweetly and unconstrainedly in
union with it. Unholy minds are conscious of a secret
opposition between their natural tastes and the intense
spiiituahty of the divine law. Restraining grace, reli-
gious training, and the common or special influences of
the Holy Spirit, keep this enmity in a certain abey-
ance, in those cases where sin has not pushed its victim
towards the brink of positive impiety. But this brink
is often fallen over, or at least looked over, by the
thoughtless, the impure, and the abandoned. A large
part of the world's sceptical and cavilling attack on the
code of Christian morals arises from personal immoral-
ity. Proud selfishness kicks against the goads. What
though the enemy wears a comic mask ? his sardonic
laugh is that of hate. The strict requisitions of the
holy commandment are so distasteful to the self-pleas-
ing offender, conscious of a crookedness which this
plummet reveals, that he tries to laugh off the restless
sentiment of obligation ; and, but partially succeeding
in himself, he makes the attempt with others. Ridicide
of God's commandments, or of the just fears, scruples
and tender doubts of om' neighbour, is a sign that the
soul harbours inward hatred of the law. " It was a
severe retort which a young man lately made to an in-
fidel, who was speaking against the divine legation of
Moses. He had made many objections to the charac-
ter of that holy man ; and the young Chi-istian said to

258 THE SCORNER.

him : ' There is something in the history of Moses that
will warrant your opposition to him more than any
thing you have yet said.' What could this be ? * He
wrote the Ten Commandments.' " * Read parallel proofs
of the immoral soil out of which scoffing grows, in the
unholy lines of Voltaire, Rousseau, and Paine.

This uneasiness of conscience, in regard to precept
and prohibition, when it concurs with self-conceit,
haughtiness, and a low talent for impudent reply, con-
stitutes the genuine scoffer of Solomon's photograph.
You see his demeanour under criticism, advice, repri-
mand, and expostulation. Pride causes him to take his
friend for an enemy ; he is regardless of the truth ut-
tered ; inimical to the parent, the minister, the brother,
the elder associate, the wife of his bosom ; if any one
of these dares to touch his sore, he resents the sup-
posed affront with words of bitter ridicule. Behold thy
likeness, 0, misguided sinner ! " A scorner heareth not
rebuke." " A scorner loveth not one who reproveth
him." "Reprove not a scorner, lest he hate thee."
"He that reproveth a scorner, getteth to himself
shame." t In all these, and in other places cited, the
same Hebrew word is used. It involves the notions
of vanity, mocking, treating with mimicry and illusory
speeches, satire, sneer, sarcasm, irony, and reckless disre-
gard. The counterpart of this picture is in many a
household, as many a disappointed father, many a heart-

* life of Dr. Waugb. + Prov. xiii. 1, ix. 7, 8.

8

THE SCORNER. ]^59

sick mother knows full well. Up to a certain age,
children, unless precociously vile, yield themselves in
docile comphance to the parental voice. But, alas ! ex-
cept where Grace has early wrought, there comes a dis-
agreeable crisis, of greater or less duration. Family
training arrives at the stage first of shyness, then of for-
wardness, sometimes of bitterness. The foohsh boy,
governed more by companions of the school or the
street, than by his wisest, dearest protectors, sets up to
be wiser than his father. The frivolous, vain, selfish
girl, corrupted by the daughters of the migodly, from
whom she takes her tone at some fashionable but hea-
thenish school, turns upon the mother who bare her,
and tosses the head, with imaginary knowledge of the
world, and disgust at old-time maxims of modesty.

It were well if intolerance of rebuke were confined
to childhood and youth ; but we encomiter it in every
stage of life. Though one of the sincerest acts of tnie
friendship is the bringing into the right way of one
who has strayed, it is nevertheless true that, in things
moral and religious, scarcely any one rehshes attempts
to lead him back from wandering, or to prevent liis fly-
ing from the track. Tell your neighbour that his house
is too gaudily furnished, that his children are sadly per-
verse, or that he himself drinks too much wine, and is
drowsy and muddled after dinner, and you run the risk
of losing an acquaintance for your pains. If to this
you should add serious admonition respecting his eter-
nal state, and the need of preparation for death, you

IQQ THE SCORNER.

would be likely to have in return severe jesting, if not
scoffs.

"Fools make a mock at sin." The enemy of souls
continually allm'es them tovi^ards the persuasion, that it
is a small evil. Who can believe that yonder timid
youth, flushing with the colours of Virtue, will one day
laugh to scorn the reprovers of his profaneness or his
dissipation ? Yet we see such changes every day.
Society is always suffering from perverse banter and
coarse hiunour, directed against rigid morals. The
thefts, defalcations, peculations, forgeries, fraudulent es-
capes from obligation, full living on other men's money,
and filthy piuchase of votes and verdicts, which are
at once the opprobrium and the rottenness of certain
classes in modem society, are fostered and brought into
development by what young men hear in the houses
where their business hes ; by jokes, which imply that a
clever operation is worth some moral risk ; by pleas-
antries about lying and stealing, under decent names ;
and by contemptuous pity of the tortoise-hke habits of
a former age. Let us in justice observe, that we have,
in the highest places in the world of trade, men whose
names are unsuUied, and whose voice authorized by
experience, would, if permitted, chastise the sharper
and the villain, under whatever garb of mocking and
persiflage he might lurk. Such animadversion is use-
ful to those who look on ; as indeed is the detection of
every arrogant pretender. " Smite a scorner, and the
simple will beware; and reprove one that hath un-

THE SCORNER. 261

derstanding, and he will understand knowledge." And
again, " When the scorner is punished, the simple
is made wise." The public award is generally right
and final, in respect to one who has distinguished him-
self by sneer, sarcasm, and arrogance ; for, as Solomon
says, "the scorner is an abomination to men." Prov.
xxiv. 9.

It is not easy to stop upon the downward slide of
sin ; and hence he who begins with trifling and badi-
nage, upon subjects of duty and grace, will descend, un-
less divinely stayed, to the degree of undervaluing his
own danger, and making light of God's threatenings.
This is the foolhardiness of transgression. There is a
sublime, silent delay about the Divine Justice, which
leaves rash sinners under the delusion, that, against a
Lawgiver so longsuffering, they may oflend vdth impu-
nity. If every Cain were marked the very instant he
shed blood, and every Ananias struck dead upon the
utterance of his lie, scoffing at judgments would be im-
possible. But the awful tread of justice is slow, and so
the depraved soul grows bold. " Because sentence against
an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the
heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil."
Conscience sleeps, and therefore the sinner thinks the
sin is not on record. " He hath said in his heart, God
hath forgotten : he hideth his face : he will never see
it." Ps. X. 11. In Ezekiel's time, the idolaters who
polluted the very temple-chambers by secret imagery,

said, " The Lord seeth us not ; the Lord bath forsaken
11

IQ2 '^^^ SCORWEK.

the earth." The same folly and wickedness bear like
fruits in later days ; and when these depraved tempers
find vent in w^ords, and corresponding demeanour, we
have the S corner named in divine threatenings

Unbelief and unholy daring may attain such a
height, as madly to try their strength not only with
menaced, but with actual wi'ath; and creatm'es have
been found, who, amidst the falling bolts of judgment,
have stood out against the Creator and Judge in arms.
A cheat, of course, is, in such cases, put upon oneself,
as if there were a chance of escape after all ; or, as if
these inflictions were not judgments for sin ; or, which
is more common, as if infinite mercy would at length
remit. When scornful offenders laugh at war, famine,
pestilence, and other tokens of divine displeasure against
sin, whether national or individual, denying all provi-
dence in such events, and baring the head to receive
any storm from such quarter, they only re-enact the
part of ancient unbelievers, who cried, " The evil shall
not overtake nor prevent us." Amos ix. 10.

But on whatsoever side we turn, we find exposures
of the fundamental evil, on which aU these contempts re-
pose, as all later formations on the primitive base. It is
depravity of mind and heart in regard to Almighty God ;
disbelief of his being ; derogation from his attributes ;
forgetfulness of his presence ; disregard of his infinite
purity; hardihood towards his awful justice; in a
word, it is practical atheism which makes the scomer.
" Wherefore doth the wicked contemn God ? he hath

THE SCORNER. \Q^

said in his heart, Thou wilt not require it." Ps. x. 13.
Every form of sin involves something of the horrid evils
just named ; for who could sin under the thorough and
constant influence of right views and feelings towards
the Divine Majesty ? " Thou God seest me," so far as
it sinks into the heart, is a preservative against trans-
gression. But sin begets sin ; yea, one sin begets
numberless sins, and one violation of law and con-
science, leads to other violations, and these to more, till
the fearful progression ends in open profligacy, insult to
the Eternal King, and speedy destruction. No one knows,
when initiated into some lower degree of Satan's lodge,
whether he may not penetrate to the highest. This
makes it dangerous to parley with temptation. Judi-
cial bhndness befalls those who voluntarily put out the
light of education and conscience. One sin, in God's
awful judgment, becomes the punishment of another.
The crime which the youthful sinner now looks at with
shuddering, as it stands before him in his path, he may
one day see behind him, among the dim, cloudy begin-
nings of his career, the earhest steps of his enormous
transgression. It is a greater evil to scoff" at the reH-
gion of others, than to be simply irreligious ourselves.
Many ties must be rent, many walls overleaped, and
many guards cut down, before the race of evil at-
tains to open derision of truth and duty. Oppo-
sition to God's spiritual agency, and ascription of
Christ's words to the Evil One, accompanied with de-
liberate utterance of the same, in scoffing language.

164 THE SCORNER.

constituted that blasphemy against the Holy Ghost,
which hath no forgiveness, either in this world or that
which is to come. And he who treads under foot the
Son of God, and counts his blood unholy, " hath done "
so it is written, " despite unto the Spirit of grace."
Heb. X. 29. Those, therefore, who are tempted to
make merry with divine realities, with the Word of
Salvation, with the work of the Holy Ghost in the re-
vival of churches and the conversion of sinners ; espe-
cially those who, from levity, folly, inconsideration, def-
erence to bad example, or temporary gusts of pride
and passion, indulge themselves in ridiculing such as
begin to seek the salvation of the soul, should beware
in time, lest, abandoned to themselves, they make ship-
wreck of all principle, and find their lot among hopeless
scoffers. " Judgments are prepared for scorners, and
stripes for the back of fools." Having thus tempted
Satan, they may be led by him into an incapacity of be-
lieving ; having sneered at all that is pure, august and
heavenly, they may, amidst the ruins of their faith, be
haunted by spectres of multiform doubt ; having chal-
lenged God to forsake them, they may spend their de-
cUne in ever leaniing, yet never coming to the knowledge
of the truth ; for, " a scorner seeketh wisdom, and find-
eth it not." And these are cautions peculiarly needful
at times when the Spirit of God manifests his agency
in the churches, humbUng and melting believers, and
convincing the impenitent ; and when, likewise, Satan,
in liis prime character, as adversary and arch-scorner, is

THE SCORNER.

165

busy, breathing into his children, at the corners of the
streets, in the haunts of vice, and alas, in the editorial
chair, foul blasphemies, which may turn away men from
the great salvation. We have no fear for the church of
the living God, from the mocking laughter of surround-
ing foes ; though " they return at evening," " make a
noise hke a dog, and go round about the city." Ps. hx.
The people of God will still rejoice in his power, which
shall lead them on to triumph. But, for the scoffers
themselves, we tremble ; and are ready to addi'ess them
in the words of Paul at Antioch : " Behold, ye despi-
sers, and wonder and perish ; for I work a work in
your days, a work which ye shall in no wise beheve,
though a man declare it unto you." Acts xiii. 41. It
is a dreadful fall, from haughty scorning of God's ways,
down to grovelling vice and di'iveUing falsehood : such
contrasts have we seen. The freethinker and the here-
tic, after deriding the mysteries of Scriptm-e and the iu-
sphation of prophets, have sat down to prate of endless,
unintelligible dreams, and to sit at the feet of spu'itual
mediums, so named in theii' jargon. Safer, my breth-
ren in the Lord, is it to trust in Him, " that frustrateth
the tokens of the hars, and maketli diviners mad ; who
turneth ^\-ise men backward, and maketh their know-
ledge foohsh." Isaiah xliv. 25. 0 pray to God, beloved
hearer, that he would keep your conscience tender, and
your mind reverent, lest from one degree of profane
scorning you proceed to another, and at length reach
the point of those who crucify the Son of God afresh,

\QQ THE SCORNER.

and put him to an open shame. At present, you think
this acme of impiety far fi'om you, and so I trust it still
is. But consider, I pray you, who it is that holds you
back from such enormities, and shrink from every form,
or sentiment, or speech, which could grieve that Spirit of
grace. " Quench not the Spirit," in yourselves or in
others. And that you may make all sure, turn your
back upon the world, the flesh, and the devil, and, go-
ing to the Lord Jesus, take him as your Saviour,
Teacher, and King.

VII.

SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER.

SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE
FATHER.*

John iii, 16.

" For God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son,
that whosever believeth in him should not perish, but have ever-
lasting life."

What verse of Scripture is more deeply engraved
on our memory ? Where is a passage to be found
which has been more frequently uttered in Christian
assembhes ? Is there one which more fully comprises
the essence of the Gospel plan ? Or could we choose a
divine saying of our Lord better suited to guide and
elevate our thoughts ?

Here is Jesus speaking of himself, and declaring
why he came from heaven to earth. Here is the pro-
vision of mercy traced up to its eternal fountain, in the

♦ New York, May 16, 1852.

170 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER.

infinite benevolence of the Most High. Here is the
river of compassion widening towards all nations. Here
is the door of escape set wide open, from hell to heaven.
And here is the direction how any willing soul may
gain entrance to that way. My brethren, it is matter
which interests us all ; for we are all unholy and sub-
ject to condemnation ; we are all in jeopardy ; we are
all hastening to death, yet naturally desirous of ever-
lasting happiness. And in these words we have a
Saviour offered to all. The subject is God's love, and
the method by which this love may become our per-
sonal salvation. If God should vouchsafe to carry the
truth home to your heart this day, he would thus make
it a temple of the Holy Ghost. And I affirm without
hesitation, that the words of my text, if received in their
spiritual meaning and with fom persuasion, are able to
make you wise unto salvation through faith that is in
Christ Jesus.

Does God the Father really love the world of sin-
ners ? and what is the character of this love ? These are
the questions which we have to answer. We may vague-
ly assent to the existence of such love without deeply en-
tering into its grandeur. Accompany me, while we
consider, first, the reality of this love, and secondly, its
degree. Both are exhibited by means of a great and
marvellous gift.

I. The REALITY OF THE FaTHEr's LOVE TO THE
WORLD IS SHOWN BY HIS GIVING HIS SON. The WOrds

SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. IJ [

upon which we have come to meditate set forth this
great and overwhehniag argument for the love of God :
He gave his Son. Small words sometimes contain vast
meaning. In the solemn act of worship called an oath,
and in the form of it so often uttered and heard with
hghtness and iiTeverence, So help you God, the im-
mense weight of the imprecation hes in the shortest
monosyllable so ; that is, may Almighty God so help
you, or the reverse, as you now declare the truth. In
like manner the text revolves on the same brief adverb,
as the principal hinge of its significancy. By what
proof or evidence are we convinced that God loved the
world ? And how great was this love ? The answer
is, God so loved the world that he gave his only-begot-
ten Son. This is the demonstration of the love in its
reality, and the measure of the love in its greatness.
And if God so loved the world as to make a sacrifice
of infinite value, the love is such that it passeth knowl-
edge.

The heathen had no such being in their crude my.
thology as a God of pure love. When the philosophers
revolted against the incredible and corrupting fables of
tradition and poetry, they formed various conceptions
of a Supreme Intelligence ; but the best of them fell
infinitely short of the idea which a young child in
(vhristian households acquires of a Being, infinite, eter-
nal and unchangeable in wisdom, power, justice, truth,
and goodness. As soon as we think of One who has
all perfections, we think of One who is benevolent.

272 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER.

and if we add the conception of this Supreme Existence
as coming forth from the soHtude of his eternal majesty
to create intelhgent spirits, we immediately, as by a
necessity of reason, conclude that he loves the creatures
whom he has made. If we could stop here, all would
be free from difficulty.

If we could truly regard the Most High as not only
benevolent, but nothing besides ; as loving every object,
whether good or evil ; as possessing no moral discrimi-
nation, as acting only and forever towards the happiness
of all he has made ; we should look with confidence
toward the awful future of eternity, as assured that,
whether pure or sinful, we should be made blessed for-
ever. And some take this view ; thus founding on a
partial idea of divine excellence the destructive scheme
of universal salvation. But on this hypothesis we can
never explain the enigma of the universe. If God
were all love, and in such a sense as to be nothing but
love ; if God had no end in creation but to make his
creatures happy, there would of course be no unhappi-
ness in the world. The proof that such a view is false,
stares us in the face on which side soever we turn our
eyes. For is the existing earth, to go no further, full
of unmingled bliss ? Answer ye, who pass lifetimes of
sorrow ; ye millions of sufferers by disease, war, and a
thousand deaths. The fact, as we see it and feel it,
disproves the assumption that God has no other prin-
ciple of government than that of promoting universal
happiness. Unless, indeed, we deny his sovereignty,

SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER.

173

dimmish his perfection, ascribe the present state to
some rival divinity, and thus upturn the very basis of
all religion, natural and revealed. If God's sole object
in creation had been to secure the absence of all unhap-
piness, no sound mind will deny that he had power to
effect it. If, as the fact shows, the case is tremendously
the reverse, we have no escape from the conclusion, that
along with the disposition to make his creatures hap-
py, there were other divine attributes which allowed
the possibihty of pain. We must affirm this, or else
refuse God's permission to the present state, or deny
the perfections or very being of a God. As we shrink
from these dreadful tenets of chance and atheism, we
are forced to bow down and acknowledge that our
plummet cannot sound the depths of the divine immen-
sity. We must ovni, with adoring fear, that the Infinite
One has reasons of awful state why even misery should
be allowed to enter his dominions. And we justly look
for these reasons in those other attributes of Jehovah,
which are revealed no less clearly than his goodness.

God is infinitely holy. He is so by the eternal
necessity of his nature. He cannot deny himself. He
is and must be forever opposed to all sin. It is his
very nature, it is of the essence of his Godhead, to stand
in eternal opposition to moral evil. All moral good is
such simply because it conforms, we need not say to
a divine command, but to the divine natm-e, as its
standard. All moral evil is such, because it deviates
from this eternal standard. But the two are necessarily

174 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER.

and everlastingly opposed to one another. The will of
God, which is our Law, is only the effluence of this
eternal nature ; and hence, creatures remaining the
same, we cannot conceive of the law as otherwise than
it is, or of a law demanding the opposite of what it now
demands, or as demanding less than it now demands ;
in other words, less than perfection. This tendency of
God's nature to demand conformity in moral creatures,
belongs to his essential glory, and we call it his Justice.
It is not for us to ask why He created man ; or why
he created him a free agent, or what is the same thing,
capable of sinning. He has done so ; and shall not the
Judge of all the earth do right ? We might deem it
wiser and hoher to make a world in which no sin and
no pain could ever exist ; but that such a purpose was
not necessarily demanded by God's holiness, we learn
assuredly from the fact that God actually designed the
world which we see. There may be reasons, nay there
must be reasons, all unknown to us, why the greatest
glory of God is, after all, most promoted by the very
irregularities which we deplore.

Still it abides true, that our Lord is a God of love.
No one attribute conflicts with any other. When free
creatures, and creatures are not moral beings unless
free, in the exercise of their freedom sin and fall,
the consequence is misery. Let us not quarrel with
this arrangement. The connexion of sin and misery
may, for all we know, be as necessary as the connexion
between the absence of light and the presence of dark-

SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. J 75

ness. Many things in our own experience, lead us to
believe this to be so. We are never happy when we
sin. Suppose a law given, the misery consequent on
violating this law fixed as a penalty ; the Word of God
uttered to declare this connexion ; and we at once be-
hold God's Justice and his Truth committed on the side
of Hohness, and against the sinner. Thus far we gain
no rehef by clinging to the assertion that God is good.
It is true, eternally true. But how do we know that
even Benevolence, on a large scale, may not be glori-
fied by the pmiishment of obstinate oflenders, when,
even in civil society, cases occur in which the destruc-
tion of one life promotes the salvation of many ? But
these are mysteries which we are not called upon to
resolve. Secret things belong imto God. The Justice
and Truth of God are as clearly revealed as his good-
ness and mercy. They must not be thi'own into oppo-
sition, but must forever co-exist. And the great all-
important deduction which we should make, for the
guidance of our thoughts, is, that if Mercy be ever dis-
played, it will be in such a way as shall hold up Justice
and Hohness with unduuinished and equal splendour.
This is, indeed, the key to the whole Gospel, which is
none other than a device of Infinite Wisdom to repair
the evils of the fall, and thus show forth all the com-
mingling perfections of God in magnificent and adora-
ble harmony. AU hues blend with consummate beauty
in the rainbow around the throne. To effect this har-
mony was the intention of the most extraordinary

175 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER.

transaction in the earth's history, namely, that He who
made it died upon it. The difficulty must have been
great which made so extreme a method necessary. No
physical difficulty can be imagined in regard to God,
for he is Omnipotent. By an act of sovereign wiU he
could translate all souls from heaven to hell, or from
hell to heaven. The obstacle to such a transaction can
be none but a moral one. There is a sort of impropriety
in asserting any such thing as difficulty, where God is
concerned ; but human language can do no better. It
is only a way of saying, that to do this or that would
be for God to deny himself.

Even in our own circle of experience, different prin-
ciples within us may thus come into seeming conflict.
The Judge may have to pass sentence on one whom he
pities ; here justice has to settle it with compassion.
The parent is often called to punish the child whom he
loves. It is easy for us to say that God might freely
pardon any sinner, or all sinners, without any interven-
tion or propitiation. I prefer at tliis time to rest on
the reply — and it admits of no contradiction — ^that God
has done otherwise, and has so proved that there was
no other way. One thing, indeed, the Supreme Law-
giver and Judge might have done. He might have
suffered the sentence to become absolute ; have shut
the door of pardon ; and have turned away from the
world of sinners, and left them to whirl away into the
infinite spaces of increasing sin and misery. No man
can say this would have been unjust, unless he is pre-

SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. ^J

pared to say tliat the law was unjust ; for this was the
demand of law. Especially might the offended Sove-
reign have so done, when the mode of doing otherwise
involved the most stupendous sacrifice. And why not?
Why did Divine Wisdom and Holiness pause, and sus-
pend the lifted sword of vengeance ? Why did heavenly
condescension look upon ruined men ? Oh, my breth-
ren, it was because Love, boundless Love, stayed the
hand of Justice, held the bolt of fiery retribution, and
interposed itself between the descending edge and oiu"
condemned souls. If God were all Justice, and he is
as truly just as loving, no redemption had been possible.
If God had been all Love, and he is as truly loving as
he is just, no redemption had been necessary. But be-
cause He is both Justice and Mercy, and because Jus-
tice demanded satisfaction, and Mercy pleaded for re-
mission, " Righteousness and Peace kissed each other ;"
and Love hung on the arm of paternal severity, while
Wisdom pointed out a method to reconcile both.

To our poor limited faculties, this has to be repre-
sented under figure of a conflict of attributes ; but, in
reality, there is no conflict in God. To our apprehen-
sion, there seems a series of counsels and a change of
plan ; but there is neither succession nor mutation in
God. Still the highest philosophy commands us to
abide by the childlike expressions of the Bible. We
shall never comprehend this mystery better than when,
as in our early days, we regard God as angry against
sin, yet df^siring not the death of the sinner. This love

12

]^78 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER.

for sinners must have been unutterably great, or there
had been no such event as the Crucifixion.

And let me with more than ordinary earnestness
implore you not to misapprehend this love, by an error
which is common among shallow theologians. I intend
those, who think of God the Pather as less loving than
the Son ; as more rigorously just than the Son ; as in
some sort a relentless and implacable sovereign; as
originating no tender mercies, and thirsting for the
blood of vengeance, till appeased by the Son. Into
such extremes some may be led by the inadequacy of
all earthly words and figures to represent heavenly
realities. No, beloved brethren, the God of our text,
who gives his Son, is God the Father. He is as
clearly the God of Love. There is no conflict be-
tween the Father and the Son ; and there is a divine
harmony in their acts ; for whatsoever things the
Father doth, those doth the Son likewise. The adora-
ble Son of God is co-equal in infinite justice and hatred
of sin. The adorable Father is boundless in love and
compassion. From him came the whole scheme of
salvation. " For God so loved the world, that he gave
his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him
should not perish, but have everlasting life." Thus far
have we dwelt mainly on the reahty of this love. True,
this it was impossible to do, without frequent glimpses of
its degree ; but now more particularly let us bring this
into review, by meditating with you on the extent of this
divine love, as manifested in its grand testimonial.

SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. ^JQ

11. The GREATNESS OF THE FaTHER's LOVE TO THE
WORLD IS SHOWN BY HIS GIVING THE SON. Not that

you or I, or angels above us, can take the gauge and
dimensions of this divinity of goodness. With us they
look into the chasm, with folded wings, and murmur.
Oh, the depth, the depth ! Yet, again, they learn
enough to burst forth into chorus, while the shining
retinue, reaching from earth to heaven, breaks forth in
the doxology, " Glory to God in the highest, and peace
on earth, good-will to men ! " Love is measured by its
gifts and sacrifices. Greater love hath no man than
this, that a man lay down his life for his friend. God's
love is measured by the gift and sacrifice of liis Son.
But while we repeat and adopt the words, who will
assume to comprehend them ! God gave his Son, but
who can take the measurement of the gift ? for who can
ascend to the height of liis glory, or descend to the
depth of his humiliation ? Who hath entered into the
dread chamber and pavihon of that eternity before all
worlds, in which the Only-Begotten, who is in the
bosom of the Father, dwelt in the plenitude of the
triune bhss, the Word, which was with God, which
was God ? Lose yourself as you may in the delightftd
contemplation of this wonderful glory, you are still baf-
fled in every essay to gaze more nearly into the empy-
rean majesty, or seize the dazzhng fines of that transac-
tion, when it was decreed in council that God should
become man. Yet with reverent intentness of adoring
thought, we may, through a veiling cloud, discern so

180 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER.

mucli as the Spirit has seen fit to intimate. No man
knoweth the Son but the Eather, and he to whom the
Father shall reveal him. From the recesses of that
unapproachable glory, " dark with excessive light," pro-
ceeds a voice which syllables the sentence dear to every
penitent and thankful soul, " God so loved the world
that he gave his only-begotten Son." Here are tones
which cause the inmost chords of humanity to vibrate.

The word Son carries its peculiar touching charm
to any parental heart. An " only Son," is of all phrases
that which wakes affectionate yearning here about our
sinful hearths. Faint shadows are these of the things
in heaven. He who has chosen to be known as Father,
has chosen to reveal the eternal Word as Son, and as
" the Only-Begotten of the Father." Divine paternity
is inscrutable. Divine love is as far above human love,
as God is above the creature. Yet we were made in
his image, in order to know a httle of his heart ; and
the sentiment, though vastly unequal, is the same in the
points intended to be believed.

God gave his Son. In intention and decree he
gave him. In covenant he gave him. Looking on man
as helplessly fallen, he gave him, as purposing him to
be man's Saviour. In the garden of Eden, now stained
vsith deadly sin, he gave him, and anticipated the words
of curse by words of blessing. Throughout the tedi-
ous tracts of the long Judaic night, when clouds and
transient rays struggled together, in a coloured haze of
types and vision, he gave him, the Messiah yet to come.

SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. \gl

But fully and actually and with transcendent love he
gave him, when the Word became flesh and dwelt among
us, full of grace and truth. And then, consummating
the boon of eternal destination, he gave him, when,
amidst a quaking earth and a shrouded heaven, it
pleased the Lord to bruise him, when his sword awoke
against the Man that was his fellow ; and when Justice,
as a weapon of death, steeped itself in the heart of
humanity embraced by Godhead, and the Holy One,
at the acme of his dying pangs, cried. It is fin-
ished.

The thoughts need repose after such a contempla-
tion. Sit down, oh believer; sit down with the beloved
John, and with the Marys, amidst the effusion of the
water and the blood, and tell, if you can, the magnitude
of this affection. It is divine. *' Herein is love, not
that we loved God, but that God loved us and ^ave Ms
Son."

Would you feel it more ? Look m that other direc-
tion, to the damned world. Measm-e the sin and sorrow
of a state which but for this sacrifice had been yours
and mine. That we should not perish but have eternal
hfe, was the motive of this gift. Raise your eyes to that
" eternal life," and meditate the glory and the bliss, till
you somewhat forget the seductive pleasures of time.
All this is signified by the gift of God's only-begotten
Son. Once more turn inward and attempt an estimate
of your own demerit. " God commendeth his love to
us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for

J^82 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER.

US ! " What ! still imrelenting ! Are no gentle affec-
tions stirred within you, this day, by God's chief argu-
ment ? With what can we hope to move you ? Be-
hold here the hell you have deserved and sought ; the
heaven surpassing your most adventurous imagining ;
the Cross of Jesus, where the just God becomes the
Saviour. This is the great sight which has melted the
hearts of all generations of those who have been saved.
And I have yet to add, if I would not withhold the
principal theme of my commission, that God the
Father gives the Only-'Begotten Son this day in the
offer of the Gospel. To you is the word of this sal-
vation sent. The great atoning action was not to be
concealed, but to be published to all nations for the
obedience of faith. There is no restriction. To whom
do I hear you ask, is this offer tendered? To the
world, I answer ; to all who hear the " word of the
truth of the Gospel." To you who have come liither
this morning; to every one of you; from the hoary
despiser to the babe who only begins to comprehend
the words. By whom may it be accepted ? By sin-
ners. " This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all
acceptation, that Chiist Jesus came into the world to
save sinners." If the greatest offender of all the sons
of men were to rise revealed as such in this assembly,
I am authorised to address him as included in this invi-
tation of abounding grace. This Gospel was preached
first at Jerusalem, and made known to those who cru-
cified the Lord of glory. " Therefore," cried Peter to

SALYATIOX TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 3^33

the Pentecostal multitude, " let all the house of Israel
(the very nation which had committed this sin of sins)
know assm'cdly, that God hath made this same Jesus,
whom ye have crucified, both Lord and Christ." The
apostle's declaration, and all subsequent preaching, have
held forth the same Gospel, or good news of God's love
in giving his Only-Begotten Son. By this alone have
perishing souls, in all ages of the dispensation of grace,
obtained eternal life ; and the proffer is now to you.
To you, my hearer, however hardened in your sins and
however destitute of all right feelings, this way of im-
mediate escape is held out. The fountain w^hich bm^st
forth from the rock smitten at Golgotha continues to
foUow the march of our desert pilgiimage; and the
tenns are, as of old, " Whosoever will, let him take the
water of hfe freely."

Before closing the service, I must lay before you, in
few w^ords, one provision of my text. It concerns the
mode of becoming interested in this gracious gift of
God. The mode is by beheving ; " that whosoever
believeth in him should not perish," etc. Gospel faith
is the cordial believing of this message. Some of you,
let me joyfully tliink, have already believed, do now
believe. Your language is, " This is my beloved, and
this is my friend. lie found me fainting in the W' ilder-
ness. He Hfted my head. He spake w^ords of com-
fort to me. He strengthened me with strength in my
soul. And all this he did by poming a flood of light
on his own person and work, by making this great ob-

284 SALVATION TKACED TO GOD THE FATHER.

ject stand forth prominent and luminous, that is, by
working in me faith."

But there are others whose language is, " Nothing
is more mysterious to me than the saving character of
faith. I believe these truths ; and yet I find no relief
for my burden." To such a one I must, in all respect
and love, speak a word of contradiction. No, my
anxious hearer, you do not believe the Gospel. Or, at
at any rate, since there are degrees in faith, you beUeve
but faintly. You have been looking too long and too
much at self, and too little at the Saviour. If you be-
Heved that God so loved the world, you would see
and know that even for you there is room in the bosom
of infinite Compassion. If you believed that Christ
Jesus came into the world to save sinners, and by speci-
fication, the chief of sinners, you would see salvation
brought home to your own heart. If you believed that
Grace is abounding, free, present, made over by gift to
just such as you, in all your hardness and all your
guilt, and that the very first saving act is that of acqui-
escence in this gratuity, you would gaze with wonder
and gratitude on the pierced hands and feet and the
opened side, and would exclaim with Thomas, My Lord
and My God ! If you believed, you would tiuii away
fi'om tlie study of yoiu' wretched self, and being all
absorbed in another object, resplendent, soul-entrancing
and divine, would joyfully cry, " God forbid that I should
glory, save in this." And it is just because you stiU re-
fuse to let go your hold of something within you ; be-

SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. J 35

cause you doubt the capacity of Christ's love to embrace
you as you are ; in a word, because you do not beheve,
that you persist in perishing with a condemned world.
The difficulty does not he in any want of atoning
love or gracious provision. The sacrifice has been
made ; it is infinitely pleasing to God ; it is accepted ;
it can never be repeated ; it can never be added to ; it
stands before the universe in immutable, consummate
gloiy . Nor does the difficulty he in the natm^e of faith,
as though it were complicated, mysterious, or uninteUi-
gible ; it is one of the very simplest actings of the hu-
man soul. But it lies in this, that you do not apprehend
in a spiritual manner the precious, the ever-blessed
truth to be beheved. You see God under a false aspect,
as a hard, exacting Lawgiver and a relentless Judge.
You look on Christ as coming to you with some legal
conditions to be fulfilled in you, before He can be
yom's. And justly conscious that such conditions are
wanting in you, you stay away from the fountain of hfe,
and will forever stay away, till the hght of God dawns
on your en'ing mind. Now, my sorrowing friend and
hearer, now you have arrived at what is perhaps a critical
point in your history. Will you flee to Jesus Cluist to-
day ? WiU you perish, or will you believe ? Wliatever
is yom- determination, note it when you go home ; " This
day I have chosen Christ," or " This day I have rejected
him." Tor it is noted in heaven.

VIII.

DYING FOR FRIENDS.

DYING FOR FRIENDS *

John xv. 13, 14.

•' Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life
for his friends. Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I com-
mand you."

Friendship is a sacred word, belonging as truly
to Christianity as to morals. It is such a relation of
man to man, that from mutual esteem, admiration and
attachment, rather than from regard to interest, each
contemplates the person of the other with complacency
and benevolence, each desires the welfare of the other,
and delights in his company ; and consequently each is
ready to fulfil the wishes of the other and to make sa-
crifices for his pleasure. It is a flowing of soul to soul.
It is — so says the Roman adage — to will and to refuse the
same things. Wretched is he, who cannot go to expe-
rience for his definition ; for " poor is the friendless

* New York, March 13, 1853.

290 DYING FOR FRIENDS.

master of a world ! " We need not go to the Damon
and Pythias of Gentile story, or even to the touching
records of David and Jonathan in the Old Testament.
The Gospel assm-es us, that in the circle around our
Lord, there was one disciple whom Jesus loved. Priend-
ship never rose to so sanctified an exaltation. We do
weU, therefore, against certain perverse philosophers, to
include friendship among the Christian virtues, and to
practise it in the daily intercourse of life. Even in
common society, its trimnphs are sometimes beautiful
and ennobling, but it is nowhere so pm-e and unearthly,
as where it subsists between souls which have been
touched by the Spirit of God. Then it is a fountain
which wells forth from the Cross of the heavenly Friend.
But we are this day to ascend a yet loftier eminence,
and to contemplate a friendship which exists between
Christ and the behever. The word seems to acquire a
new and heavenher acceptation, when we apply it to
Him who is above aU blessing and all praise. And
this we shall do, in meditating on the dehghtful words
of the text.

This relation then of friendship is sustained .by the
Lord Jesus to his people. His whole hfe was a series
of blessed friendships. There are no pictures of at-
tachment hke those of Bethany and the upper chamber.
The Twelve, the Seventy, the holy women who compa-
nied with him, the thousands of less distinguished dis-
ciples, all stood to him in the relation of fiiends. It
was not merely John, who reclined on his bosom, or

DYING FOR FRIENDS. 191

James and Cephas wlio shared his more sacred re-
tirements, or Lazarus whom he loved, or Mary and
Martha who ministered to him ; but all who hearkened
to his words and sought his companionship. He was
so unlike us who preach his gospel in degenerate times,
that he associated visibly and at the banquets of the
Pharisaic gi'eat, with persons who had lost their charac-
ter, and was designated as the friend of publicans and
sinners. To every diversity of people he showed him-
self accessible ; as indeed he is, still the most accessible
being in the miiverse. The most abject offender against
purity felt reassm'ed by his forgiving rebuke, and the
very leper cast out of human habitations, and the de-
moniac haimting tombs and charnel-houses, ventured to
accost him. How much more near, and delicate, and
solemn, and raptiuous must have been the intemews
with his chief disciples, in those days on the mountain
and on the plain, when thousands swarmed forth from
city and village, and spreading themselves on the green
grass were fed by his wonder-working bounty, and his yet
more marvellous words ; those voyages on the little lake ;
those mighty gatherings on Sabbath evenings, when the
synagogue was out and the sun was going down, and they
came flocking, with wives and children, to the house
where he was guest, and spread their sick and dying on
the earth at his feet ; those evenings dming the high
festivals, when, as we know, he did not tarry in the
great city, but pursued his quiet path among olives,
across the ravine of Kedron, and up the ascent of

192 DYING FOR FRIENDS.

Olivet, to Bethany, and probably to the house of Laza-
rus ; those walks through the length and breadth of the
land, in which, accompanied by eager groups, he dis-
coursed of divine counsels and things of the kingdom.
In all these conjunctures we behold him the friend, in
every lofty and every tender acceptation of that pregnant
word. All who accepted him were his friends. He
admitted them to the title ; he treated them as such.
And now that, in his human nature, he is no more on
earth, he just as really sustains the same relation to all
who truly believe on him and partake of his Spirit. It
is this sacred alliance which is brought prominently for-
ward in these discourses of the first Communion season.
The highest proof of friendship is, when friend,
as in this case, dies for friend. We do not pause for
proof of this proposition. Children understand it ; it
sinks into the deep conviction of the heart. Death is
so dread an evil, that all a man hath will he give for
his life. A man will give many things for his friend,
vast labours, vast possessions, yea, all things, before
he win give his own life. Sometimes we find one will-
ing to give the hazard, to run the chance, that is, to
risk life for a friend ; but absolutely and without re-
prieve to give the life, is a different matter. We do
not think so meanly of sanctified human nature as to
disbelieve it possible. Scripture does not allege that it
never happened ; Christ does not allege it. We beheve
there has been many a parent, who, on fit occasion,
would die for a child, many a wife for a husband, nay,

DYING FOR FRIENDS. J 93

many a loyal soldier for his prince. But what we affirm
is, that when this occurs, it is the indubitable testimo-
nial of the highest love. Other marks may deceive,
but this is infalhble. If a human friend had died for
us, we should cherish his memory with a sentiment
little short of idolatry ; for we cling mih passion and
reverence to one who has even jeoparded Hfe for our
sakes. This, then, is the acknowledged principle, on
which the Lord Jesus founds that which he has to say
respecting the love he bears to his disciples. It is a
matter not for proof but meditation.

The amazing truth which we have to contemplate
is, that this conclusive proof of attachment Christ actu-
ally gave. The chm-ch is founded on the fact, that
Christ died for his friends ; he made them friends by
dying for them ; for they were once foes. " For when
we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died
for the ungodly. For scarcely for a righteous man (or
a man barely just and upright) wiU one die ; yet perad-
venture for a good man (a man attaching himself to us
by affectionate kindness) some would even dare to die;"
unusual as is the spectacle, a rare and singular instance
might be found in the lapse of ages ; " but God com-
mendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet
sinners, Christ died for us ! " It is the great lesson of
scripture and sacrament. Has it become a weariness
to you ? Then your hearts have never been touched
by renewing grace ; you have never sickened at the evil
of sin, you have never rejoiced with the transport of
13

1 94 DYING FOR FRIENDS.

faith. There is a power in genuine experience, which
freshens the oldest doctrine to the heart of the behever,
and makes him come back to these truths as to breasts
of consolation, ever new with the sincere milk of the
word. For which cause, the sacrament that sets it
forth, so far from losing value and attraction by repeti-
tion, is sweetest to the old disciple and the pilgrim near
his journey's end.

The death of the Lord Jesus Christ for his people
is pronounced by divine authority to be the grand argu-
ment of his love ; and they feel it to be so. Hence
they love to celebrate it. He uttered these touching
words to the wondering and sorrowing group, just be-
fore the great event. His eyes saw what was hidden
from them. He was already, in purpose and dedica-
tion, a sacrifice. It was anticipated as a glory : " Father,
the horn* is come ; glorify thy Son ! " Already, as the
Lamb of God, was he bound with cords and palpitating
upon the altar ; already his soul was troubled, preparing
for " the strong crying and tears" of the awful night.
He had a baptism to be baptized with, and was strait-
ened till it should be accomplished. The cup which his
Father was giving him was already in his hands.
When he spoke of dying for his friends, he had a per-
fect foresight of the scenes which were to mark the next
few eventful hours. It was not the simple article of
death, the bare separation of soul and body which he
contemplated. He saw the mysterious shadow of
Gethsemane, the agony and bloody sweat. He saw the

DYING FOR FRIENDS. J 95

midnight assault, the arrest, the hurrying by torchlight
from tribunal to tribunal, the cords, the scourging, the
robes of scorn, the insults of the populace, the languor,
the exposure, the ignominy, the blasphemy, the crown of
thorns. He saw the accursed tree, the naUs, the spear,
the desertion, the blood and anguish, the comphcated
dying. He saw this to be a substitution, a suffering
for others, for friends, for those who should forsake and
deny him, for millions who were as yet his enemies.
And seeing all this, he said, with an emphasis which
we can now better understand, '* Greater love hath
no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his
friends."

Let our powers task themselves to devise a testimo-
nial of love which shall be equivalent to this. Reason
and imagination are at once baffled. And yet we do
not begin to apprehend the magnitude of the Divine
affection, until we take into view the natm'e of Him
who evinces it. Man, simple man, might testify great
love, and testify it by voluntary death, by death un-
merited, by death smTounded with every aggravation
of torment and shame, by death for the unworthy.
Tliis would be affecting and sublime, yet only finite and
comprehensible. But, as we love to sing, and to sing
without emendation : " God the mighty Maker dies, for
man the creatm-e's sin!" The person who sustains
this suffering is a Divine Person. It is the infinite
Jehovah descending to take the place of the rebel, and
to subject himself to penal humihation and agony.

196

DYING FOR FRIENDS.

This is the great fact of Christianity, the capital
demonstration of the Godhead. Here we behold more
of the heart of God than in all his works and Word be-
side. Into these things the angels desire to look ; and
the cherubic emblems hover and stoop over the ark,
bending to inspect the mystery of the law covered by
the golden propitiatory and the mercy-seat sprinkled
with divine blood. Por this there had been a prepara-
tion in all the foregoing economy of the Old Testament,
from the sacrifice of Abel to the Passover they had just
been celebrating. All altars and priesthood, all un-
blemished victims and sprinkling of blood, every sin-
offering, scape-goat, basin and hyssop-branch, whispered
of the dying love that was to come. All types and
emblems foreshadowed this testimony of divine friend-
ship. There has been a reverberation of holy echoes
in the arches of all temples, betokening the descent of
divine compassion. The fires of all combined sacrifices
have been going up, to presignify the whole burnt-offer-
ing of this great Day of Atonement, in which the sword
of God is to awake against the man that is his fellow,
and the perfect and final victim go up in the flame of
unutterable and infinite consecration. Christ dying for
the ungodly is the central radiant point, at once of di-
vine dispensations, of the world's history, of gospel
theology, and of sound experience. Who, by searching,
can find it out ! Herein is love, not that we loved God,
but that God loved us ! And it is all that we " may be
able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth

DYING FOR FRIENDS. I97

and length, and depth and height, and to know the love
of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that we may be
filled with all the fulness of God." The demonstration
is complete, but its measures are unfathomable. When
we would know how much Christ loves his friends,
our only reply is by looking to the Cross ; but we must
look forever. Though we come again and again, vidth
the concentrated powers of all human minds, we cannot
reach the mystery, " the breadth, the length, the height."
" Angels that hymn the Great I Am, fall down and vail
before the Lamb." It is reserved for the heavenly
state to launch out more fully into the ocean of inquiiy,
and to sm*vey the unattainable dimensions of such a
friendship from God to man.

The love of Christ in dying for sinners, is the
ground of their friendship towards him. "We love
him because he first loved us." And this in two senses ;
for first, if he had not loved us beforehand, there would
be no grace dispensed to work these afiections in our
hearts; and secondly, it is the consideration of this
sovereign and abounding love which awakens these
afiections. We are fully aware that a different teach-
ing, from a school of metaphysical theology now near
extinction, has been heard in our churches ; but among
other blessed characteristics of the late Revival of Re-
ligion, we note a return to the cathohc experience of all
Christian ages, in regard to the power of God's love in
Christ as recognized by the repentant sinner. " The
love of Christ constraineth us." Here is the spring-

j^gg DYING FOR FRIENDS.

head of all true religious feeling. Mistake on this point
may be disastrous. General views of the divine char-
acter and excellencies may produce awe, dread, adora-
tion, and approval, but will never enkindle love. The
friends of Christ are made such by contemplating his
love, and especially by acts of faith directed toward his
Cross. O that I knew how to treat this subject aright !
Perhaps it will be safest to turn aside from the beaten
track of a merely doctrinal theology, and make an im-
mediate appeal to the experience of the new creature.

Take a view, then, first, of the soul unrenewed by
grace. And let us not choose for one instance any ex-
treme case of wickedness or unbelief, but one of those
gospel hearers who fill our assembhes and are some-
what instructed in the elements of reUgion. Let it
even be one who is not totally indifferent to the things
of another world. But he is, nevertheless, as yet un-
reconciled. Often does he endeavour, in thought, to
present to his view the subhme idea of the Great Su-
preme. Yet, if he makes frank confession, the thought
is not pleasing. He is overshadowed and weighed
down by the conception of one so high, inflexible, and
distant. The spirituahty of God overwhelms him ; ho-
liness dazzles and humbles ; inexorable justice terrifies.
The startling truth perpetually reappears, that this pure
and mighty Jehovah is his enemy. The distance seems
a gulf which cannot be transcended. Efforts at obedi
ence and reform recoil in a sense of incapacity and
guilt. There is no inward view of the way in which

DYING FOR FRIENDS. jgg

God can be just, and yet justify the ungodly. These
are among the most wretched moments of hfe. Often
does he turn away from the subject because it increases
pain, reveals sin, and awakens enmity. As often is he
reluctantly drawn back by the unwelcome fascination
of the awful verities. Thus it is with many during the
tedious night of legal conviction. They seem to grow
worse rather than better. They are under the Law,
and the law worketh wi'ath. Condemnation increases ;
for, " by the Law is the knowledge of sin." It is far
more distressing than the former state of carelessness ;
into which, indeed, the sinner vainly and madly tries to
return. No ray of benign compassion breaks through
the cloud of justice which envelopes the throne of the
Infinite Majesty. No tender melting views of sin dis-
solve the heai't, which seems harder than before, and
sullen in its miloving discontent. No approaches to
God as a Father sweeten the acts of a constrained de-
votion.

But after a while a signal change is experienced.
This same soul, disheartened at the sight of its own
turpitude and iUdesert, and appalled by the view of
divine perfections, is led by grace to contemplate a new
object, and to turn its regards to the person and work
of the Lord Jesus Christ. The sinner forgets himself
for a little, while he gazes on this unparalleled exhibition
of divine love. He beholds God descending in human
nature, to become the sacrifice and the priest. He
sees the immaculate Redeemer dying on the cross for

200 DYING FOR FRIENDS.

the sin of man. He recognizes an atonement and
satisfaction to justice, sufficient to obliterate the guilt
of all mankind. He opens his heart to the Priend of
sinners. He perceives that the whole work of redemp-
tion is out of himself, and independent not only of his
obedience but of all his feelings and exercises ; and that
the salvation thus complete is offered and made over to
sinners and to him, just as he is, without any prelimi-
nary quaUfication. Now, for the first time, he is struck
with the sovereignty of uncaused love. It is nothing
in him, or his state of mind, but all in this act and
demonstration of heavenly friendship. He owns with
wonder the freeness of the salvation. He can no longer
deny that it is for him, now, this moment, on his acqui-
escence and acceptance. The chief of sinners may
come. God loves the chief of sinners ; the proof is in
the Cross ; the proffer is in the Gospel ; his bonds are
loosed ; his self-righteousness is left behind -, and be-
fore he is aware his sinking soul is lifted in the arms of
the Son of God, and his tears are wiped away by the
pierced hands. Now, now, he exclaims, I perceive the
truth which I have heard and repeated a thousand
times. God is love ! and love to me ! God forbid
that I should glory, save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus
Christ ! He is a believer, and while he believes he
loves. He sees the things that are freely given him of
God. He understands what is meant by salvation
without money and without price. God is no longer a
tiiskmaster and a judge, but a merciful and reconciled

DYING FOR FRIENDS. £01

Father, througli Christ Jesus. He is astonished to ob-
serve, that all along, during his whole protracted strug-
gle, this infinite love has been equally free and equally
offered ; that God was willing, but he was unwilling ;
and he adores the grace which waited for his delay.
Unutterable is his grateful attachment to Jesus his
Saviour, who is now the chiefest among ten thousands.
He is the friend of Christ ; no longer a servant but a
son ; and from this moment onward he lives a new life,
by faith in the Son of God, who loved him and gave
himself for him. Thus the love of Christ, as dying for
sinners, is the ground of their fiiendship toward the
Redeemer.

There remains an important truth to be considered :
the true and certain test of being the friends of Christ,
is obedience to his precepts. " Ye are my friends, if ye
do whatsoever I command you." It is not profession,
my brethren, which makes the Christian. When Nao-
mi had her affecting interview with her two daughters,
" Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clave unto
her." On this very paschal evening Simon Peter was
louder in profession than John ; and if Peter's character
had been always no other than during the denial, he
would have been only a hypocrite. You cannot quarrel
with this test. It is reasonable, it is incontestible.
The proof of Love afforded by obedience is triumphant.
Good works are not our passport to heaven in the way
of merit, but they are the infallible fraits of faith, and
so the best criterion of attachment to the Lord.

203 DYING FOR FRIENDS.

The operation of this principle is not abstruse or
recondite. We recognize its influence in the httle child
who does what is bidden out of love to the parent ; in
every act of compHance or service that proceeds from
common friendship. But it rises to its highest achieve-
ments in the grateful affection of the behever to the
crucified Redeemer. That dying love works wonders
and constrains obedience. Recur to the tender in-
stance, when John and Mary stood at the foot of the
accursed tree, gazing intently on the Son of God in his
last pangs. " When Jesus, therefore, saw his mother,
and the disciple standing by whom he loved, he saith
unto his mother. Woman, behold thy Son ! Then saith
he to the disciple, Behold thy mother ! " Can we
doubt the result ? Love wrought obedience. " From
that hour," that hour of love and death, " that disciple
took her unto his own home." And when the sacred
body, devoid of life, was lifted from the cross and made
ready for burial, and when the holy women and such
friends as had not fled looked on the heavenly counte-
nance of One who had loved them unto the end, charg-
ing upon their own sins the awful event and expiation,
do you need argument to convince you that they felt
bound forever to obey his highest wish ? AU the way
down through the ages of faith, this love has acted itself
out in obedience. Every behever owns in his inmost
heart, that he lies under an obhgation to surrender all
to Him who died for him ; as one redeemed not with
corruptible things, such as silver and gold, but with the

DYING FOR FRIENDS. 203

blood of Christ as of a lamb without spot or blemish.
Ye are not yom: own ; ye are bought with a price.
" Henceforth," says Paul, " let no man trouble me, for
I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus."

More need not be said as to the certain efficacy of
the principle ; but a word is necessary as to the extent
of the obedience. It is universal. "Whatsoever I
command you ; " that is, all my commands. In this
life, the obedience, indeed, is never perfect as to its acts
and the details of duty, " for in many things we offend
all." Yet it is universal in its purpose or intention.
True love, taking its origin from the Cross, does not
discriminate and select, does not prepare for some du-
ties and refuse others, but girds itseK for all. And this
tendency of the m\[ is a better evidence of grace than
any or all particularities of performance. Friendship
to Christ pei*petually utters this language : I wiU hear
what God the Lord will speak. Lord, what wilt thou
have me to do ? I will perform whatsoever my dying
Saviour has commanded. I have sworn and I will
perfonn it, that I will keep aU thy commandments.
He therefore who speaks thus, I wiU obey up to a cer-
tain point and there I will stop short, is not the friend
of Christ. He who says, I will keep the command-
ments at large, but this or that commandment I will
not keep, is not the friend of Christ. He who whispers
to himself, I will be pure in all things else, but this one
secret, cherished, easily -besetting, darling sin, I will not
relinquish, is not the friend of Christ. The true dis-

2Q4 DYING FOR FRIENDS.

ciple abandons in purpose and endeavour all known
transgression. And if we turn our thoughts inward to
find one particular exercise in which more of true re-
ligion is concentrated than in aU others, we shall dis-
cover none more certain than this, the absolute unselfish
oblation of the whole man — mind, heart, and will — as a
sacrifice to Christ, out of thankful regard to his dying
love. And when, as is sometimes our privilege, we
stretch forth our hands to the bread and the wuae at
the Lord's Table, and rely on that broken body and shed
blood for our justification, the faith thus exercised is
inseparably connected with a solemn act of seK-renoun-
cing and unreserved dedication to the holy will of our
redeeming God, This is the Hving sacrifice, the reason-
able service, with which God is well pleased. To keep
back any thing is to deny our Lord. He asks only the
heart ; but he asks it all. And in gracious souls he has
it. It is his. He has bought it with his Cross and
Passion, and carries it away in triumph ; embracing in
almighty arms the ransomed one, who desires no other
Master, and is happy to be borne away captive by Him,
whose commandments are not grievous, whose yoke is
light, and whose service is freedom.

IX.

THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING.

THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING *

Hebekws xii. 24.

" The blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that

of Abel."

The Old Testament is to some Cliristians almost a
sealed book, especially in those parts wliicli treat of the
rites and ordinances pertaining to tlie tabernacle and
temple. But this is an inferior stage in rehgious
knowledge and experience, and should not be willingly
rested in. After havmg obtained a just view of Christ
as Mediator, from the clear representations of the New
Testament, we go back to the system of Levitical
types, and find it all there. It would be but an imper-
fect, undeveloped scheme of salvation, which should be
derived from the New Testament without the Old. In-
deed, the New constantly assumes and paraphrases the

* New York, January 15, 1857.

208 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING.

Old; and many of the most precious Gospel declara-
tions of Christ and the Apostles would be unintelligible
bieroglj^hics, without the key of Moses. It is the
manner of these great teachers to express spiritual,
gracious and eternal things in terms of the temple and
the altar ; and this in conformity with a system, planned
from the beginning, in which all the type and symbol
of the Mosaic economy is a preparation for the clear
light of the latter day. Those, therefore, are the most
deeply taught and richly experienced believers, who,
after having learnt the simple principles of evangelical
truth in the New Testament, go back with them to the
Old Testament, and behold a hundredfold more beauty
and majesty in the same truths as arrayed in the forms
and laws of the Jewish service. In our endeavour, then,
to find the Cross in the Holy of HoHes, and the Gospel
in those smoking altars, we have our best aid in the Epis-
tle to the Hebrews, which might be named a Key to
the Tabernacle, or the Old Testament explained by the
New. The theology which results from such studies is
diametrically opposed to that of the metaphysical and
sentimental school, who cite httle scriptm-e, and almost
ignore the gorgeous pageantry of the old priestly service.
Though a distempered fancy may here, as elsewhere,
work mischief, these rites, which fill so much space in
the Pentateuch, admit of an application much more
detailed than is commonly enjoyed ; and under Apostolic
guidance we shall do well to make om'selves largely ac-
quainted with this neglected mine of truth.

THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 209

Even cursory readers perceive the striking parallel
between the bloody offerings of the temple and the
oblation of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; but
few have taken pains to trace out the analogies, latent
in the particular parts of sacrificial work, every one of
wliich casts light upon the doctrine of redemption. At
such a season as this, when every eye ought to be bent
towards the atoning Lamb, we shall do well to enter
somewhat into the more concealed significancy of this
ceremonial, for the wine of sacred truth do(!S not yield
itself without pressui'e, and the honeycomb of grace
requires its laden cells to be broken.

Consider with me, for a very few moments, the
several steps which belonged to a regular and complete
sacrifice, under the Aaronic hturgy.* First, there was
the selection of a suitable, unblemished animal, as the
victim ; let us say a lamb from the flock. This reminds
us at once of the Divine election of the Only-Begotten
Son, as the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of
the world. Secondly, the innocent creature was sol-
emnly presented, for this peculiar purpose, near the
door of the tabernacle. Answerable to this is the
actual appearance of the Incarnate Son, in human na-
ture, and especially his solemn separation and oblation
of himself, the priest and victim being in this case one
and the same. Thirdly, we behold a most imposing
ceremony : the sinner who offers sacrifice lays his hands

* A€iTovpyia. Heb. ix. 21 et aL lociB.
14

210 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING.

upon the head of the animal, confessing his sins. In
the parallel instance of the scapegoat, the high priest is
said to " put the sins of the congregation on the head
of the goat." Jewish writers record the words with
which this imposition of hands was sometimes accom-
panied : " I beseech thee, O Lord, I have sinned, I
have done perversely, I have rebelled, I have done so
and so (mentioning the transgression) ; but now I re-
pent, and let this victim be my expiation ! " Who does
not recognize in this the sinner under the Gospel, who,
with clearer views, comes not to the visible but the
invisible altar ; not to the son of Aaron, but the son of
David and Son of God ; laying his hands not on the
lamb of the perishable flock, but on the head of the
divine sacrifice, and saying, " I have sinned, I have done
perversely, I have rebelled ; let this victim be my expia-
tion ! " So closely did the Hebrew connect this cere-
mony with the acknowledgment of guilt, that it grew
into a maxim, " Where there is no imposition of hands,
there is no confession." They were equally accustomed
to regard this laying on of hands as symbolically re-
moving the guilt of sins from the sinner to the sacrifice.
That which the Israelitish worshipper did, long before
the Great Sacrifice on Calvary, and even before the
slaying of his own typical offering, the Christian peni-
tent now does by an act of faith, looking back to the ob-
lation made once for all by the Lord Jesus. And every
time he casts the eye of believing towards his hum-
bled, scourged, buffeted, bleeding, crucified Saviour, he

THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 211

lays his hands anew upon the sacred Lamb, saying.
Let this victim be my expiation ! rouRTHLY, the sac-
rifice was slain, and consumed (sometimes wholly),
upon the altar. This was the great atoning act.
Here is blood for blood, and Hfe for life. The basis of
all its significancy is laid down, Lev. xvii. 11 ; " For the
life of the flesh is in the blood ; and I have given it to
you upon the altar, to make an atonement for your
souls : for it is the blood that maketh an atonement
for the soul ; " or as some render it, " for the blood
atoned through the soul." It is not the matter of the
blood which atones, but the soul or life which resides in
it ; so that the soul of the offered victim atones for the
soul of the offering penitent. In the imperfect but
most speaking representation of type, the sacrifice of
the innocent symbohc substitute goes up to God in the
smoke of the burnt-offering, a sweet-smelling savour —
if we may borrow another phrase from the vocabulary
of Moses — a token and a pledge that the satisfaction is
not only offered but accepted. It is by that which is
here represented, to wit, by the self-oblation of the
Lord Jesus Christ, that the breach between heaven and
earth is made up ; and so far as the efficacy of the
atonement is concerned, the work is complete and can
never be repeated. All other pretended sacrifices,
bloody or unbloody, are profane mockeries and insult-
ing disparagements of that sacrifice of Himself, " once
for all," which terminated when Jesus cried, "It is
finished ! " Fifthly, and last in the order of sacrificial

212 '^^^ BLOOD OF SPRINKLING.

action, was the sprinkling of blood, to which your
attention is more particularly called, as involved in the
text, and as full of meaning appropriate to this ordi-
nance. Aspersion or sprinkling is a symbolical act
employed with both water and blood. The sprinkhng
of water is a token of symbolical cleansing, and is just
as valid for this purpose, as if the whole body were
washed by plentifid affusion or immersion, otherwise it
would not have been so largely employed in the ritual
language of the Old Testament. To sprinkle is to
cleanse. Mark, therefore, Lev. xiv. 7, when a leper
was to be purified : " And he shall sprinkle upon him
that is to be cleansed from the leprosy seven times, and
shall pronounce him clean." As soon as he was thus
bedewed, his consciousness responded, "Now I am
ceremonially clean." It was to carry home this con-
sciousness that the act was ordained. Among the
" divers washings," (baptisms,*) we may confidently
enumerate what took place in the consecration of the
Levites, Numb. viii. Observe how they were cleansed :
" Take the Levites from among the children of Israel,
and cleanse them. And thus shalt thou do unto them
to cleanse them. Sprinkle water of purifying upon
them," etc. In another instance, where ceremonial de-
filement was contracted, a clean person was to take
hyssop and dip it in water, and sprinkle it upon the
tent and inmates ; all which prepared the Hebrew

* Ata0d/)otf fiatma-fiols. Heb. iz. 10.

THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING.

213

people for comprehending such language as that of God
by the prophet : " Then will I sprinkle clean water
upon you and ye shall be clean ; from all youi' filthi-
ness and from all your idols will I cleanse you," Ezek.
xxxvi. 25. In all these cases, whether in symbol or
reality, there was conveyed to the soul a divine purifica-
tion and a sense of it.

Now, if we turn from the application of baptismal
water to the application of sacrificial blood, we shall ob-
serve the analogy hold good, and shall see the rite con-
veying to the sinner a consciousness of acceptance with
God. In regard to God, the slaying and oblation was
enough : in regard to man, the blood must be sprin-
kled. God might be appeased, and yet the sinner might
be destitute of any pledge that it was so. Hence the
importance of the seal ; just as in our day the impor-
tance of sacramental sealings, in regard to acts long
since consummated. " This sprinlding of blood was by
much the most sacred part of the entii'e service, since
it was that by which the life and soul of the victim
were considered to be given to God as supreme Lord
of life and death; for what was placed upon the
altar of God was supposed, according to the rehgion of
the Jews, to be rendered to him." * But the same
typical sprinlding reaches the ofierer and sometimes
the whole congregation, in token of their participation
in the finished work. Those who honour God's Old

* Outrani on Sacrifice.

214 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING.

Testament lessons will not turn away from a short ex-
amination of several cases as prescribed in the Law.

In the cleansing of one who had been afflicted with
leprosy, after the slaying of one of the two sacrificial
birds, the priest was to dip hyssop (among other things)
in the blood, and sprinkle npon the leper seven times.
Lev. xiv. This is a very simple and very striking ser-
vice, in which the sprinkling of blood is used for puri-
fication.

But greatly more solemn is the next case, Lev. xvi.,
in which the method is detailed in which the high
priest, once in the year, on the great day of Atonement,
shall enter into the Holy of holies. A bullock, as one
of the nobler animals, is slain and laid on the altar.
Then, verse 14, "he shall take of the blood of the bul-
lock and sprinkle it v^dth his finger upon the mercy-seat
eastward, and before the mercy-seat shall he sprinkle of
the blood with his finger seven times." The mercy-
seat, or, far more properly, the propitiatory, was the
aw fid centre of the shrine, displaying its golden efiiil-
gence above the ark of the covenant, and just beneath
the covering w^ngs of the overshadowing cherubim.
To sprinkle the blood here, was to bring it to the throne
of Jehovah, amidst the blaze of the Shekinah, unap-
proachable save by the typical Mediator. It was to
declare before Infinite Justice, that the satisfaction was
complete, by venturing even there with that which was
the life and soul of the sacrifice. This is blood which
" speaks." The apostle Paid refers to this, Heb. ix. 18,

THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 215

"For when Moses had spoken every precept to the
people accorduig to the law, he took the blood of calves
and of goats, with water and scarlet wool, and hyssop,
and sprinkled both the book and all the people, say-
ing. This is the blood of the testament which God hath
enjoined unto you : * moreover, he sprinkled with
blood both the tabernacle and all the vessels of the
ministry. And almost all things are by the law purged
with blood, and without shedding of blood is no remis-
sion." And after these striking words, the apostle goes
on to show, that all this was done in antitype and real-
ity, when our glorious High Priest entered into the
heavenly places, to present the merit of his own most
precious blood-shedding. As the whole virtue of the
sacrifice resided in the life, which, as we have above
cited, was in the blood, the solemn presentation of the
blood was a sign that the oblation was complete ; and
the sprinkling of it on sinners was a token to them that
the guilt of their sins was remitted. We have dwelt
thus long upon an external rite, which many pass over
as insignificant, because this is God's own method of
conveying to us, in the most lively and impressive man-
ner, the cardinal truth of propitiation and pardon.
This, then, is that " blood of sprinkling," spoken of in
the text.

The way is now open to us to inquire. How the
BLOOD OF Christ, the great antitype, " speaketh

* Compare Luke xii. 20.

216 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING.

BETTER THINGS THAN THAT OF AbEL." Woids need

not be multiplied in exposition of the clause. The
blood of Abel spake dreadful things, when God said to
Cain, " The voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me
from the ground." It was vocal with wrath. It ut-
tered the echo of God's vindicatory indignation against
fratricide. It was the first human bloodshed, and an
event fitted to strike by comparison and contrast.
Now, in this view, 1 . The blood of Jesus speaks atone-
ment, satisfaction, and access to God's favour. And
this it specially does as sprinkled or exhibited in the
sight of the Supreme Majesty. It must have been an
hour of breathless interest and expectation, when the
hundreds of thousands of Israel, gathered on that high
day in the tabernacle court, followed with their eyes
the high priest in his pontifical array, with the graven
jewels and names on his breast, as with stately mien
and profound awe he passed towards the sacred tent,
bearing in his hands the blood of the altar, and then,
lost within the curtains, advanced to the invisible recess
of hidden glory. But the gospel shows us something
more august than this shadow. " For Christ is not en-
tered into the holy places made with hands, which are
the figures of the true, but into heaven itself, now to
appear in the presence of God for us. Nor yet that he
should offer himself often, as the high priest enteretli
into the holy place every year with blood of others ; but
now once in the end of the world hath he appeared, to
put away sin, by the sacrifice of himself." The spriii-

THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. £17

1 ■ iig of typical blood, in regard to God, declared that
sin was atoned for, and that a way was opened for sin-
ners into the Holiest of all. This sprinkling was ac-
complished when the Lord Jesus, by the blood of the
everlasting covenant, made solemn entrance into heaven,
in the name of his people, and when — ^if I may use Le-
vitical expressions, familiar to the Gospel, and provided
for this very end — he drew near to the primeval and
real mercy-seat in heaven, and there left traces of his
own divine blood, as though he said, " I have finished
the work which thou gavest me to do ; here am I, and
the children whom thou hast given me. Spare them,
for I have borne their sins in my own body on the tree >
of which the pledge and testimonial is this blood, ex-
pressed from my human vems in Gethsemane, at the
place of scourging, and on the Cross." And so everlast-
ing is the remembrance of this in heaven, that John the
Apostle says, in his Apocalypse, " And I beheld, and
lo, in the midst of the throne and of the four beasts,
and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb, as it had
been slain." Still does the blood of Christ speak better
things than that of Abel, by causing the merit of the
Atonement to resound in heaven.

2. The blood of Jesus speaks peace to the believing
sinner's conscience. One may be interested in the
great salvation, and yet be destitute of certainty. We
are constrained to judge thus concerning some of the
best of God's people, in their moments of darkness and
depression. The same blood which removes guilt by

218 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING.

being shed at the altar, removes fear by being sprin-
kled on the beheving offerer. This is the great mean-
ing of the sealing type. It was so apphed to the people
with some profusion, for the blood being put into ba-
sins, and having water mingled to keep it fluid, was
conveyed on a bunch or bundle of hyssop bound up
with scarlet wool, till it was all spent in the service.
This rite of sprinkling was chosen of God as an expres-
sive sign of the effectual commmiication of the benefits
of the covenant to the persons so bedewed. The blood
of Christ was not divided, as was that of the Levitical
sacrifice, part being sprinkled on the altar and part on
the sinner ; but the efficacy of his one oblation pro-
duced both consequences. Yet we need both. Even
though offered to God, it must be applied to us. The
High Priest sprinkles our heart and conscience, as with
the hyssop-branch ; which explains the lamenting prayer
of David, " Purge me with hyssop and I shall be clean."
This application is wrought by the Holy Spirit ; and
how gracious is this effusion ! We stand at a great
distance, unable to serve God with any liberty, till he
thus speaks peace to our troubled souls. This filial
serving of the living God is expressly noted as the end
for which the application is made, Heb. ix. 13; and let
us here learn to rise from the type to the antitype : " Por
if the blood of bulls and goats, and the ashes of an
heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying
of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ,
who through the Eternal Spirit offered himseK without

THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 219

spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works,
to serve the living God." Then we can serve with
well-grounded cheerfulness, when the warm effusion of
Christ's blood is felt upon our hearts, which so lately
were sinking with dread.

Let us go back to the Law, which is om* school-
master to bring us to Christ. Here is an offender,
standing pensive and awe-struck before the altar of
bm'nt-offering. He has presented his victim ; he has
laid on it the hand of confession and imputation ; he
has seen it deprived of life and laid upon the blazing
altar ; he has gazed upon the series of symbolical actions
expressive of the atoning work and satisfaction to God.
But one thing is yet wanting, to assm'e him of his in-
dividual participation in this justifying righteousness ;
he receives from the hyssop-branch the sacred drops
upon his vestment and his person. His pardon is
sealed. He says, with a new consciousness, " I am
free ! This oblation avails for me ! God remits my
guilt for the sake of sacrifice ! " Now all this takes
place in a New Testament sense. The convinced sinner
has a clear view of the plan of remedy provided in the
Gospel, and of Jesus Christ as the one atoning sacrifice.
At the feet of this Cross he confesses his sins. He be-
holds there a propitiation amply adequate for the pardon
of a world. He approves the method, and honours its
wisdom and love. He perceives the law exalted and
God's anger turned away. This, so far as it goes, is
faith; but pence is in abeyance. He knows Christ

220 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING.

to be a Saviour, but he falters in claiming Christ a
Saviour for him, until, 0 blessed moment ! the veil is
rent, the priest returns from the most holy place, and
sprinldes him with the peace-speaking blood. Now he
can cry, " I know whom I have believed ; " " Christ Je-
sus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am
chief; " " My beloved is mine, and I am his ; " " My
Lord and my God ! " Thus the blood of the covenant
speaketh to the conscience better things than that of
Abel.

3. As a case under the preceding, the blood of
sprinkling speaks peace to the soul in regard to daily
sins. Oh, shameful, dreadful word ! Yet none more
true. No dream is more directly opposed to the Scrip-
tures than the pretence to sinless perfection. " If we
say that we have no sin we deceive ourselves, and the
truth is not in us." Every instructed Christian knows
that he sins, by commission or by omission, every hour ;
and that he requires not only a primary reconciliation
to God, on the ground of Christ's one sacrifice, but a
constant renewal of the same grace, to keep him in
favour, and particularly to persuade him of his accept-
ance, which is not always easy, in the face of those cor-
ruptions which break out even into act. A fair and
most important distinction must be taken between
Justification, which is a single act, accomplished in-
stantaneously, once for all, at the sinner's first believ-
ing, and Pardon, which must be renewed day by day,
though its efiicacy depends upon the one original sacri-

THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. £21

fice. Such was the glory of that oblation, that it
needed not to be repeated, in this differing from the
typical sacrifices, which were reiterated as fresh sins
arose. Heb. x. 1. "For the law having a shadow of
good things to come, and not the very image of the
things, can never with those sacrifices which they
offered year by year continually, make the comers
thereunto perfect. For then would they not have
ceased to be offered? because that the worshippers,
once purged, should have had no more conscience of
sins" But when Messiah comes, v. 10, we are saved
" by the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for
all." Nevertheless, that which is ever-enduring in its
value and prevalency needs to be applied to us fre-
quently, to take away " conscience of sins ; " that is,
while there is but one Sacrifice, there are many
Sprinklings. As long as we live, and every day that
we live, our rising evils of heart and life are such as
would destroy all peace, if it were not for the hyssop-
branch in the hand of the Spirit. There is a two-fold
application to the soul of Christ's atoning righteous-
ness by the Holy Spirit ; one, which is single, and
never repeated, the effect of which is to interest such
soul in the redemptive acts ; the other, which is perpet-
ually renewed, the effect of which is to give peace to
the soul under a sense of pardon. That experience
may justly be distrusted in which there is no going
again and again to the blood of Jesus for new applica-
tions. Thousands have used the words of the great

222 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING.

penitential Psalm, with a feeling of their necessity.
The royal sinner knew that he had received the Holy
Spirit, for he prays that he may not lose the gift. He
knew that he had possessed the joy of God's salva-
tion, for he implores that it may be restored. But
at the same time he sues for fresh pardons : " Blot
out my transgressions ; " " Pm-ge me with hyssop ; "
and for new peace of conscience, " Make me to hear joy
and gladness, that the bones which thou hast broken
may rejoice." The divine affusion of the sacred blood
upon the heart and conscience, tends, as the Christian
life goes on, to make the subject a more obedient and
a happier Christian ; which seems to be contemplated
by the Apostle Peter, when he designates believers as
"elect according to the foreknowledge of God the
Father, through sanctification of the Spirit, unto obedi-
ence, and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ."
The same ideas of obedience and renewed pardon are
presented in connexion by the Apostle John : " My
little children, these things write I unto you, that ye
sin not. And if any man sin, we have an Advocate
with the Father, Jesus Christ, [who never sinned,] and
he is the propitiation for our sins." The true oblation
reaches that which Aaronic oblations could not reach,
namely, the conscience ; for Paul says, that those were
gifts and sacrifices, that could not make him that did
the service perfect as pertaining to the conscience."
Grace and mercy result in peace, named in its higher
measures the " peace of God which passeth aU under-

THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 223

standing." Love liatli for its nature to make itself
knowm and to have itself believed. The infinite love
of God to the soul is not satisfied until it pours itself
into the consciousness, saying, " I have loved thee with
an everlasting love, therefore with loving kindness have
I drawn thee." God might have postponed the disclo-
sure of the soul's safety until the day of judgment ; the
blood might have been carried within the veil of the
visible heavens, and offered at the cherubic tln^one,
without ever being applied to our souls in this earthly
state. But far different has been the gracious purpose
of om' High Priest, who condescends to assure us of
our redemption, and to sprinkle us with his blood. The
word of the Gospel, in the written revelation, precious
as it is, and fundamental as it is to aU edification within,
utters assurances only of general favour. There must
be a distinct act of the Spirit to carry this home to the
individual consciousness. And so many are the doubts
and misgivings, engendered by indwelHng sin, that we
need om* beloved Saviour to tell us again and again
that he is at peace with us and loves us still. The
words which he employs for this purpose are the very
words which stand recorded in his written testament ;
but they are uttered with a new tone of personal love
and a voice trembling with individual compassion. And
sometimes he vouchsafes to employ the idiom of signs
and pledges, more penetrating than that of speech, and
to address us thus : " Take, eat, this is my body : This
cup is the new covenant in my blood, shed for many.

224 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING.

for the remission of sins." But the retrospective sacra-
ment would be as inoperative as the prospective sacri-
fice, unless there were superadded the gracious work of
the Spirit within, applying the blood of Jesus Christ to
the heart, and witnessing with our spirits that we are
the children of God. More simply, the Divine influence
increases faith, renders its object more clear, precise,
complete and free from error, and makes its acting more
constant and intense. In this the Word is greatly
aided by the sign and seal. And when the word of
promise, set forth in this two-fold way, is made good
to the soul at the communion, the effect is the same as
if the bridegroom's own lips audibly should say to the
particular participants : " I am come into my garden,
my sister, my spouse ; I have gathered my myrrh
with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with
my honey ; I have drunk my wine with my milk ;
eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, 0 be-
loved ! " Such invitations will be peculiarly welcome
to those who halt with the wounds of recent sins, and
who seem to hear the challenge, " Simon, son of Jonas,
lovest thou me ? " But as surely as the bread and the
wine shall presently be offered to your taste, so surely
Christ offers to you, sinful though you be, all the ad-
vantages of the blood of sprinkling.

X.

THE THIRSTY INVITED,

15

THE THIRSTY INVITED *

Isaiah It. 1.
" Ho, every one that thirsfeth, come ye to the waters."

Who is there among us, that remembers near the
home of his infancy or the play-ground of his youth,
some cool and crystal spring, that burst forth fi*om its
covert of rock, or its margin of grass, and freshened all
the scene around ? Such an object of natural scenery
lives long in the memory. To such a som*ce of innocent
delight we resort again and again, without weariness
and without satiety. That which attracted us first,
charms us still, and the reason is, that it is living, pe-
rennial and inexhaustible, yielding supplies to wants
which are perpetually retuniing. As long as men
thirst, they will value the clear cold fountain. But it

* New York, July 9, 1854.

228 THE THIRSTY INVITED.

even in this temperate clime, we are often made to
comprehend the invaluable excellency of this great and
lavish gift to our craving humanity, how much livelier
must be the feehng, in those torrid regions, where
most of the scriptural scenes are laid ! A spring of
water is always a desirable object ; but how surpassing
its fascination amidst tropical heats, or in the scorching
wastes of the desert, where the panting caravan looks
out for hours to catch the first signs of verdure ! Con-
sider this, and you will no longer marvel at the large
place which is occupied by wells and fountains, in the
beautiful pastoral and nomadic pictures of the Old
Testament. The hterature of the patriarchs is emi-
nently an out-door and a summer literature, which we
best understand when we leave the luxuries and con-
straint of cities, and dwell abroad, under the fair
heavens, and amidst the bright and picturesque sur-
roundings of an oriental, hfe. The imagination and
memory of the Bible-reader are familiar v^dth such ob-
jects in the ancient landscape ; the weUs of Abram,
Isaac and Jacob ; the fountain opened to despairing
Hagar ; the well of Rebekah, and the not less lovely
well of Rachel ; the well of Jetliro and Moses ; the
palm-tree wells of Elam ; and that fount of which thirsting
David cried, " 0 that one would give me drink of the water
of the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate ! " Bearing
these associations in our minds, we can the better catch
the meaning of promises which declare that the thirsty
land shall become springs of water, and that God will

THE THIRSTY INVITED. £29

lead his people to fountains of living water. But why
seek remote illustrations of that which finds its prompt
response in the bosom of all who ever were athirst ?
It is to such, in a spiritual sense, that the invitation of
the text is addressed, " Ho, every one that thirsteth,
come ye to the waters ! " And we may, without la-
boured investigation, consider it as offering the benefits
of the gospel to those who are perishing. I ask you on
this holy day, to examine with me the fulness, the free-
ness, and the imiversality of the offered gift.

I. The fulness of the offered gift. It is water ; it
is abundance of water. There must be something in
this natural object, which is suited to symbohze the
provision made in the gospel for the salvation of man-
kind. Man is so constituted that he must have water,
or perish. Give him all things else, but deny him
every hquid refreshment, and you destroy his life.
Nothing more forcibly shows this, than the famiUar
fact, that even on the vast ocean, the mariner, surroimded
by a world of waters, must nevertheless cany mth him
the fresh products of the Hving fountain. The appetite
for this supply is so strong, that when long ungratified,
it becomes a frenzy. And how bountiful is the supply !
In hill and valley the springs of water bubble up, with
a sweet caprice and dehghtful irregulaiity, or the hand
of labour penetrates deeply to the cooling vein, in both
cases with a hberality like that which pom's a vital at-
mosphere around our planet. The evaporation from
earth and ocean, and the descent of copious showers

i

230 THE THIRSTY INVITED.

maintain in plenitude this great reservoir for the
cleansing and cheering of mankind. It is indispensa-
ble to the natural life of the race. And so is the gospel
to the spiritual life. Men must partake of it, or perish.
When duly enhghtened, they feel this to be their con-
dition, and tliirst for righteousness. Such an invitation
as that of the text implies that the supply is large ; or
it could not suffice for all. The provision of grace
leaves nothing wanting, for the worst conceivable indi-
vidual case, or for the utmost number of persons to be
saved. We must be careful not to undervalue the re-
medial methods and so to Hmit the Holy One of Israel.
In this case God has acted hke himself, with a large
and subhme munificence ; more striking even than in
the wonderful arrangements of original creation and
providence, because these do not contemplate a crea-
ture malignant and self-destroyed. If any one thing,
even the slightest, had been left undone, which was nec-
essary to the salvation of the sinner, the work would
not have had this completeness. But aU is furnished.
It need not be here made an affau' of argument, that
the great demand is for a righteousness for those who
who have none ; that mysterious and potent something,
which shall heal the difference between heaven and earth,
answer the claim of law, turn away the wi^ath of Jehovah,
cleanse the guilt of sin, give a title to Hfe, and afford a
pledge of continuance in a holy state and of everlasting
blessedness and perfection beyond the grave. The all-
comprehending gift is the gift of God's own Son. " God

THE THIRSTY INVITED. 231

hath given unto us eternal life, and this life is in his
Son." The Incarnation, the obedience and the vicarious
suffering of the Lord Jesus Christ, are the source of
all the streams which here issue in such fulness. But
the point where above all others the waters gush forth
from the smitten rock is the Cross of our Redeemer.
There, when his last cry of pain is over, and out of his
side issue water and blood, we have the consummation
of a gift to man, which is full beyond expression. Sin-
ners by myriads may come in, and yet there is room.
The invitation may be large, for the provision is vast.
Not only is the springhead of these mercies great, but
it cannot be greater. The consideration of this is very
necessary for the steady confidence of our faith ; and
this is felt most deeply in hours when conviction of sin is
pecuHarly pungent. The righteousness of Christ is
infinite. We are made just by this, and by nothing
else. Now that which gives to this righteousness any
merit, gives it all merit. The divinity of him who
obeys and suffers, exalts the meritorious obedience
and suffering to a maximum. Were all the sons and
daughters of Adam, who have been, are, and shall be,
to gather in one numberless mass, with the Cross for
its centre and object of desire, there were enough for
all. When Jesus bowed his head and gave up the
ghost, he completed a sacrifice which is absolutely il-
limitable. Yea, though aU worlds were peopled with
sinners, here were enough for all ; we say not in God's
purpose, nor in his covenant gi'owing out of purpose,

232

THE THIRSTY IKVITED.

nor in the actual application of redemption according
to covenant, but in the value of the Atonement. If
more were to be saved, it would need no more right-
eousness, and no more eflFasion of the sacred vital flood,
although the contrary has been alleged as our beUef.
If this is not fulness of redemption, we must despair of
communicating this idea by language. And yet we
must proceed to add to this statement in a particular
respect. The atonement might be complete, and yet
not be effectual. In God's holy purpose, it needs to
be applied. Some have represented the covenant of
grace as simply placing man in " a salvable state." We
go fiu:ther than this. Man may be in a salvable state,
yet never reach a state of salvation. The plan of God
proposes to bring men actually into the kingdom. The
invitation is to come to a provided fulness of effectual
grace ; to faith and its consequences ; to perseverance
in hohness and everlasting hfe. These waters break
over the verge of their receptacle, and seem to fall like
the inviting spray of a great fountain, holding out
promise of infinite capacity beyond all that is seen.
Tin we can conceive of something greater than God, we
need have no fear of trusting the whole weight of our
salvation on the method which he has revealed ; for he
has made it, so to speak, commensurate with himself ;
by laying his very divinity in pledge, and causing the
value of the salvation to repose on the eternal glories of
his own nature,

II. The freeness of the offered gift awaits our notice.

THE THIRSTY INVITED. 233

This is implied by the strong terms of invitation, Ho,
EVERY ONE, COME YE ! It is still more clearly signified
by the words immediately following, where the figure
is slightly modified, though the general idea of thirst
remains prominent ; " yea come, buy wine and milk,
without money and without price." It is not to a
purchase, but a gift. The gratuitousness of the com-
munication could not be more strongly expressed. It
is here held forth and proclaimed with divine earnest-
ness, that he who comes to the salvation of the gospel,
receives it without any offer of recompense or any wor-
thiness on his own part. The fountain of hfe has in-
deed its price, a price which has been paid. It
cost the agonies and death of the Son of God. To se-
cure our salvation it was necessary that a struggle and
a humiliation hitherto unknown in the universe should
take place. The price has been laid down, for us, but
not by us. Eternal justice has been satisfied on our
behalf ; but to us the invitation is without money and
without price.

The reiteration of this truth may strike some as
needless. They are ready to exclaim, " Who doubts that
the gospel is free ? " In reply we must observe, that
while no truth is more affirmed in our creeds, none is
more denied in our practice. It is hard to make men
believe, that they may come to the Lord Jesus Christ
gratuitously, that is without any previous condition.
There are few behevers who do not remember the mo-
ment when this . unconditional freeness of the gospel

234 THE THIRSTY INVITED.

broke upon their minds as a great revelation. They
had been lying long beside the pool of healing, waiting
for some one to put them in. They thought there was
a long and difficult preparation before they could ven-
ture to come to Christ. They interpreted the invitation
as made to such and such persons, having particular
qualities, and they were not sui-e that these qualities
were in themselves. They could not approach the
fountain because they did not feel enough ; they dared
not believe, because they did not grieve enough. Or,
in some of the endlessly shifting varieties of delusive ex-
perience, they were setting a price on pardon, and seek-
ing to make up the amount ; they were working on
their own hearts, to make them more fit for Christ ;
they were essaying a half-way work, which, without
erasing the word " grace " from the record, should leave
to self some of the glory of preparation. And the mo-
ment when aU this was swept away, is memorable in
the behever's history. It is the moment which imme-
diately precedes faith. Up to this instant, he has
been trying earnestly to do something, which shall
make him more fit to receive Christ. Now, he sees
that the whole deed of righteousness is done already,
that its full value is offered to him in the gospel, and
that he is authorized to accept it.

But so subtle and protean is self -righteousness, that
even the free words of the invitation may be distorted
into a legal condition. " Every one that thirsteth." The
busy demon at the ear, who dreads nothing so much

THE THIRSTY INVITED. 233

as that the sinner should beUeve, here whispers, * But
perhaps you do not thirst, or you do not thirst enough,
or you do not thirst aright.' Such queries might in-
deed be urged forever, and run to an infinite series, if
any sort or kind of preparatory condition were requu-ed.
The question might still be, Do I possess this condi-
tion ? And it is a question which can never be an-
swered. We have known persons who were engaged
dming the entire com*se of then* hves, in agitating the
inquiry, whether they feel enough ; whether they feel
their need of Christ ; whether they are not too mifeel-
ing ; whether they hate sin enough ; whether they are
sufficiently in earnest. All these are proper questions,
in relation to another matter ; but here they are out of
place, and serve only to keep the sick away from the
physician. These Hngerings and sciiiples arise from
a source, to which I beg your profoundest attention.
They arise from founding hope on feeliags of our own,
instead of founding it on God's veracity. The truth of
God's promise is the everlasting rock. Here build
and be safe. AU else, especially all within us, is a
quicksand. The word of the Lord endureth forever.
True faith utterly forgets itself, and credits the assur-
ance of God's free pardon. It looks away from its own
worthiness and its own unworthiness, and hears God
saying " Ho ! " " Come ye ! " Come without money and
without price ! And it comes : without tmiiing to the
right hand or to the left. The question no longer is,
\V aat am I ? but what is God? Is he true ? Has he

236 THE THIRSTY INVITED.

spoken ? It sets to its seal, that God is true. It ac-
quiesces in a rigliteousness abeady finished. So it
saves.

The doctrinal truth which hes at the basis of all
tliese exercises is, that the procuring cause of our ac-
ceptance with God, is not any thing done by us, or in
us, not any work, preparation, frame or feehng, but
only the perfect righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ.
The trumpet sounds thus, from over the fresh fountain,
" Whosoever wiU, let him take of the water of hfe,
FREELY." And the persuaded soul, now taught the great
lesson of self-renunciation and self-forgetfulness, and
swallowed up in admiration of the stupendous gift, falls
into the open arms of dying Love.

When a wretch, just at the point of expiring with
thirst, opens his lips to receive the cool reviving draught,
does he think of this act of his, though voluntary, as
constituting any previous claim ? As little does the be-
liever ascribe any meritorious virtue to his sinful be-
lieving, which is no more than his acquiescence in the
method which God has provided. Thus unbounded is
the freeness of the offer which is made of all evangehcal
blessings, including pardon, peace, and eternal life.

III. The universality of the offer is here : "Ho, every
one that thirsteth." Salvation, or in other words,
Christ the author of salvation, is offered to aU nations
of mankind. The topic is so large and inviting, that I
must admonish myself to dispatch it in few words.
Nothing is more famihar to us, nothing was more strange

THE THIRSTY INVITED. 237

to the ancients, than that the favoui' of God should be
made coextensive with the world ; and whUe it was a
stumblhig-block to Judaism, it was the theme which,
of all others, lifted Paul to the highest rapture, as apos-
tle of the Gentiles. The middle wall of partition was
broken down. The vail of the temple was rent. The
waters of hfe, seen in vision by Ezekiel, broke over the
Eastern threshold of the temple, and flowed in a mighty
stream. Jesus offered himself a sacrifice not for Israel
only, but for aU nations. " He is the propitiation for
our sms," said John, " and not for om's only, but for the
sins of the whole world." And coincident with this
pui-pose was the great commission, " Go ye into all the
world and preach the gospel to every creature." It
was foreseen by Isaiah, the evangehcal prophet. In
God's wonderful providence, grace had been hmited to
a chosen nation, but now the system was enlarged, so
as to be a universal rehgion, and henceforth "God
commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent." This
blessed gospel is now on its tiiumphant progress
through the earth, and the day is fixed in the counsels
of heaven, when it shall be " made known to all nations
for the obedience of faith." The gracious smnmons is
to all realms and peoples.

The blessings of religion are hereby offered to men
of eveiy state, class and character. To be a human
creature, and to hear the gospel, is to come within the
comprehension of this grace. It proclaims its fulness
and freeness to yomig and old, rich and poor, learned

238 THE THIRSTY INVITED.

and simple, high and low. It does not single out cer-
tain classes as those who may be saved, but declares
that all may be saved, even as all who are athirst may
drink. It does not indeed promise that men shall be
saved in their sins, for the very salvation delivers from
sin, and this water is in each who tastes it a well of
water springing up to everlasting life, and manifesting
its virtue by holiness of thought, affection, speech and
work. But as to the prerequisite for accepting the
offer, the Gospel does not demand holiness ; this does
not yet exist ; it is to be produced ; it is part of the
benefit to be sought. No one should suppose himself
excluded from the promise of free pardon and life, be-
cause of any thing in his condition or character. Pro-
vided he come as a sinner all athirst for pardon, and
beheves in Him who justifieth the ungodly, he is sure
of welcome. And, as no man's proper name is in the
grant, the only warrant which any has, is the promise
which is made to all. The general invitation becomes
particular, when it is appropriated by faith. In a mu-
tinous army, if the commander or prince publishes an
act of forgiveness and amnesty to all who are willing to
receive it, the rebel who hears, believes and submits
himself, makes the gratuity his own. Thousands hear
the terms of the gospel, but do not accept them. But
the reason why any one accepts and is saved, is not
that the provision was not sufficient for all, or the proffer
of life equally made to all, but simply that he, an un-
deserving wretch, yields to the moving of the gracious

THE THIRSTY INVITED. 239

Spirit, takes God at his word, and makes the universal
offer his own particular salvation. To the very end of
the present dispensation, the preaching of the gospel
authorizes all sinners of mankind to come and be freed
from sin.

More particularly, the salvation is free to the chief
of sinners. This is necessary to its universality. If there
were one degree of turpitude which was excepted from
the general pardon, what sinful heart is there, which
would not sometimes be tempted to think that degree
its own? But there is none such. The infinite merit
of Christ, which is the sole basis of the offer, proves
that there is none such. The blood of Jesus Christ
cleanseth from all sin. He is able to save to the utter-
most, all that come unto God by him. There is no dye
of guilt, which these waters do not cleanse. Considered
in itself, there is no amount of iniquity which tran-
scends the virtue of Clu"ist's atoning sacrifice, or is be-
yond the reach of God's gracious invitation. The very
murderous treachery of Judas might have been par-
doned, nay would have been pardoned, on his faith and
repentance. If there is a sin in our day which is un-
pardonable, it is such, not because the blood of Christ
lacks efficacy, or because the promise of the gospel ex-
cludes it, but because such sin, by its veiy nature, re-
jects and despises the sacred blood and the gracious
promise. Every one that thirsteth, though all crimes
were accumulated and concentred on his head, may
approach and be made whole. There are moments of

240 THE THIRSTY INVITED.

conviction, in which you might attempt to convince the
sufferer of any thing rather than that such sins as his
can be forgiven. He admits that others may be saved ;
but not himself. The Spirit of God, in foresight of
such cases, converted Saul of Tarsus, and has left on
record that golden passage, for all ages, which ends
thus, " I am chief." It is a doctrine most important
to be preached, and to be often reiterated, in the spirit
of the text, lest any rebel, however atrocious, should
fail to admit the glorious universality of the offer.
Some of the most signal trophies of grace, in which
sovereign power and love have shone in the brightest
colours, have been men whose crimes seemed to out-
rage heaven; but each of whom has learnt to cry
with David, "Pardon mine iniquity, because it is
great ! "

The off'er of hfe ought therefore to be considered by
each individual hearer as addressed personally to him-
self. It is a counsel which apphes to all divine com-
munications made in the house of God ; but pre-emi-
nently to this, which offers eternal good to all v.dthout
exception who will receive it to their bosoms. The day
and hour have come, in which, after such long delays,
you may find in Jesus a merciful Saviour. The provi-
dence which has brought you hither, and the influence
which has opened your ear to hearken, make the mes-
sage as truly your own, as if the voice of God in dis-
tinct articulation uttered your individual name from
heaven. Chiist, with aU his benefits, is yours, if, for-

THE THIRSTY INVITED. 241

saking all things else, you accept him as offered in this
gospel. O be persuaded to bow the stubborn neck,
and bring the long reluctant hps to these celestial
waters !

And let me add a word to Christian believers,
whether newly converted or far advanced in pilgrimage.
To you also is the invitation given. This is not a well in
the desert, of which you may only once taste and must
then leave forever, but a river of life, at which you may
perpetually slake your thii'st. The Israehtes all drank
of that Spiritual Rock which followed them ; and that
Rock was Christ. The current fi'om the smitten rock
pursued the joumeyings of the camp. The unchanging
Redeemer in his fulness is always beside you and mth-
in your reach. As ye have received the Lord Jesus, so
walk ye in him. Come buy wine and milk, mthout
money and without price. You may be already justi-
fied indeed ; but are there not a thousand wants within
you which crave supply? Has not your path been
through a wearisome land, and are you not sensible of
an inward thirst, which nothing but spiiitual refresh-
ment can assuage? You need daily purifying; you
need daily increase of knowledge ; you need strength
for the remaining journey, and heahng for the fevered
wounds of your conflict. Behold the boundless provi-
sion, and hearken to the liberal summons. Approach
anew to Him who is the source of all yom* life, and who
cries anew, " If any man thirst, let him come imto me
and drink."

16

242 THE THIRSTY INVITED.

Blessed be God — the source to which we are in-
vited is a famiUar fountain. In regard at least to our
knowledge of it, it was the household-spring of our
childhood ; and it has been our cool resort from the
arid journeys of our mature years. And though we
have, days without number, forsaken the fountain of
living water, and hewed us out cisterns, which can hold
no water, yet are we not deeply convinced, beloved,
that there is none so full, none so heavenly, none so
free ! Many a tune have we gone to it, all parched
with the ardours of our wearisome path, and found the
Diffuser of gracious refreshment ready to take us back
and satisfy us with his love. Again the sound of fall-
ing waters is in our ears. Prom the clefts of the sav-
ing Rock, the holy stream breaks forth in profusion.
" The Spirit and the Bride say. Come. And let him
that heareth say. Come. And whosoever wiU, let him
take the water of life freely."

XI.

THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION.

THE

INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION *

LtJKB xi. 40.

*'Did not he that made that whicli is without, make that which is
within also ? "

These words draw our attention to religion as
something inward and spiritual. In this they resemble
the rest of Christ's instructions, which were intended to
bring men to a service of mind and heart, rather than
of outward observance. The piety of the Pharisees was
altogether external. Hence they were shocked when
this new teacher disregarded all their forms. One of
their sect, who on this occasion was the host of Jesus,
wondered at his approaching the repast without the
prescribed rite of baptism. " And the Lord said imto
hun. Now do ye Pharisees make clean the outside of
the cup and the platter ; but your inward part is full

* New York, April 9, 1854.

246 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION.

of ravening and wickedness. Ye fools, did not he that
made that which is without, make that which is within
also ? " That is, You forget that it is God with whom
you have to do ; God, who sees the heart ; God, who
created the spiritual part ; God, who is a Spirit, and
demands a spiritual worship. My single theme is, Re-
ligion AS AN INWARD WORK.

In attempting to exhibit the greatness of the work
within, I shall observe the following order : 1. The
value of single holy sentiments and emotions, especially
in their bearing on the eternal state. 2. The conse-
quent importance of the hidden life, made up of such
thoughts and exercises, and the greatness of the Spirit's
work in sustaining such life under the Gospel. 3. The
unspeakable grandeur of the regenerating act, as the
source of this life, and these emotions.

I. God's scale of measurement is very different from
ours. He accounts that small which seems gigantic to
us ; and often esteems that great which we despise.
Instances might be brought from things tangible and
visible, though these are not to detain us. For exam-
ple, the structure of a violet or the wing of a fly is more
complex and wonderful than the steam-engine or the
telegraph. When we seek for grandeur, we generally
think of size or of multitude; being governed very
much by our own organs, or the petty objects around
us. Especially are we prone to err, when we compare
things material with things moral. The two belong not
so much to different classes as to different worlds. We

THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. £47

cannot measure a good man against a mountain or a
planet. We cannot adjust our balance and put a gen-
erous thought into one scale, and a thousand talents
into the other. I may add, we are perpetually making
this absiu-d attempt, and weighing spiritual realities in
our earthly balance. The evil cleaves to us, even when
we deliberately pass over into the domain of moral and
rehgious truth. In estimating the results of pious
endeavour, for instance, we are governed in a great de-
gree by the eclat of the triumph, the publicity of the
benefit, and the tabular show of statistical enumeration.
The day of final revelation may bring into focal Ught
and glory some objects which the world has not paused
to look at. A poor widow cast into the treasuiy-box
two mites, which make a farthing. The coin was base
and trifling, and the act apparently insignificant. But
the deed attracted the eye of infinite Wisdom, which
penetrated beyond the ring of the paltry pieces, beyond
the trembling wrinkled hand which timidly let them
drop, behind the care-worn face of poverty and devo-
tion, to the inward sentiment in that "widow's heart.
This it -was which gave value to the donation. This it
was which God regarded ; setting on it a value above all
the costly munificence of the opulent, above all the splen-
dours of architecture in the temple, above all the glories
of Moriah and the holy city, nay — for all that we know
— above all the material excellencies of this great globe
itself. Yet this inward sentiment was invisible, impon-
derable, inappreciable. When visitors were once ad-

248 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION.

miring the library of a great prelate, he said, " One
thought of devotion outweighs them all." It was well
said, and in a spirit belonging to our subject ; but who
can bring forth the scales to verify the conclusion?
The holy thought is too ethereal to await our tests. It
may be evanescent, lasting but a moment ; yet there it
is ; it is known of God ; it is the product of his Spirit ;
it stands forever recorded with his approval. Let us
freely confess, that in our common estimates we mis-
judge with regard to the greatness of that which is
mental and moral, especially where it is accompanied
with no extension in time and space. "Perform the
duty of this single moment," said the eccentric but pi-
ous Lavater, "and thou hast done a good deed for all
eternity." One holy act, one heavenly thought, one
upward wish of an infant soul, may be precious in the
view of God. Our notion of greatness is different ; we
should say to a man. Go raise an army, subdue a king-
dom, build a pyramid. There is a sublimity in moral
rectitude, or conformity to the will of God, Mdiich we
are ill qualified to measure, in our present state, where
every thing is referred to physical laws. These laws, in
their grandest manifestations, as those of orbs moving
in harmonious silence tlu'ough the astronomic spaces,
are only as lasting as perishable matter. The hour
may come when the attraction of gravitation shall no
longer be as the squares of the distances ; but the hour
shall never come, when faith, and love, and the image
of God shall not be infinitely excellent.

THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 249

Does it not follow from this, that we are in danger
every moment of underrating those operations and ex-
ercises which take place in the secrecy of the hmnan
bosom ? Even when we make them objects of atten-
tion, which is seldom, we rate them by the visible re-
sults of the acts which they produce. But their moral
quality has a value, independent of all overt effects, a
quahty which confers on these effects all their excel-
lence. It is a solemn consideration, that the very emo-
tion which this moment is bubbling to the surface of
our internal fountain, may have a world of importance,
may be intensely sinful or intensely holy. And on this
estimate, so much beyond our reach, may be founded
some of God's awful determinations respecting the acts
of creatures in this state of trial. Of one thing we may
be certain ; the infinitely holy and omniscient Judge
takes cognizance of what passes in human minds. He
cannot look with indifference on the thoughts, imagina-
tions, wishes, purposes, choices and habits of our souls.
Slightly as we regard them, each has its moral estimate
in God's account. And this gives a serious importance
to inward things, which, if duly pondered, might modify
our whole view of life. Now it should be observed, that
all these rapid transactions of the immaterial nature
within us are absolutely hidden from the gaze of others.
Man looketh at the outward appearance. The subject
of these sentiments or emotions may be a recluse, the
tenant of a deserted isle. Nevertheless he is a soul,
spiritual and immortal, and there is that going on

250 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION.

within him which may outstretch in its greatness the
boundaries of the vastest monarchies. Your Hues of
measurement by inches, leagues, or semidiameters of
orbits, cannot be apphed to spirit. That soul, on
God's scale, may be longer and wider and higher and
deeper than the whole material universe. Its acts and
fluctuations have a relation to God's law, to God's
image, and to immortality. Hence the great work of
God is expended, not on the mundane fabric, which is
to perish, but on the soul, which is to last eternally.

To approach a juster valuing of inward things, pause
with me a moment or two on this last thought. Man
looks forward to an interminable existence. The con-
tinuity of his being is unbroken. His conscious iden-
tity is to suffer no rupture or suspension. We natu-
rally suppose that his knowledge will increase, and with
it his capacity of emotion. Now the grand truth of
our system is, that our immortal condition is to be fixed
here. Happy or miserable are we to be, according to
what we are in this world ; and happy or miserable in
degrees apportioned to our soul's state here. The
character, though not the amount of holiness, is settled
before death. The entire series of our experience below
is a preparation for what awaits us above. There is not
a purpose, a desire, or a state of mind, in this our pil-
grimage, which has not its bearing on the eternal career.
What importance does this confer on even the most
transient exercises of the soul ! Each is the seed which
embosoms in itself a fruitfulness of immortal joy or

THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION.

251

woe. Let no man, then, think lightly of what is pass-
ing in those darkened chambers. Angels — if angels
see aught of human hearts — hang with unutterable in-
terest over the struggles of the spirit, as now it wrestles
with a strong temptation, and now emerges into light
and love. Man beholds it not, save by some faint infre-
quent indications ; but all these workings are naked to
the eye of God.

II. The importance of the inward life, made up of
such thoughts and exercises, is obvious. Reflection
on so much as has been offered, will lead us to recon-
sider some of our hasty judgments as to the importance
of that invisible work which is going on behind the
curtains of every undying soul. To the gifted eye there
is revealed a battlefield, over which principalities and
powers hover, with a wistful interest, and in comparison
with which the conflicts of a PharsaHa or a Waterloo —
if we leave out the consideration that each combatant
is, after all, an immortal creature — must dwindle to a
mere contest of insects. In a sense higher than they
ever dreamed themselves, is the saying of the ancients
true, that the soul is a microcosm, a little world. It has
its periods, its convulsions, its wars, its deluges, its
revolutions and its conflagrations. To each of us, in-
dividually, it is more than the universe itself, being his
all ; and this it is, silently, secretly, and without respect
to other creatures. Each soul has that to transact, in
God's sight and with God, which throws into the rank
of things indifferent the shock of nature and the crash

252 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION.

of worlds. The eternity beyond is made to depend on
the character this side of death, as holy, or the reverse.
Who can refrain from reiterating the exclamation of our
Lord, " What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole
world and lose his own soul ? "

A reigning error among all those who profess Chris-
tianity, is, that we care more for that which is without,
than that which is within. And even when we seem to
seek inward reformation, we begin too frequently with
the stream instead of the fountain, the external rather
than the internal. It is a great moment in any Chris-
tian's life, when he awakes to the conviction, that of all
the works he has to perform, the greatest is within his
own breast. Even if it had no fruit outwardly, this
culture would be momentous in regard to eternity ; but
indeed it is the very germ of all fruitfulness. " Keep
thy heart with all dilligence," etc. Ministers and peo-
ple may give themselves too exclusively to visible activ-
ity, and then the lamentation is in place, " They made
me keeper of the vineyards, but mine own vineyard
have I not kept." This arises from low thoughts of
the work of God within the soul. " Did not he that
made that which is without, make that which is within
also ? " Nay, did he not rather make that which is
within? Is it not this, on which his eye is chiefly
fixed ? The humblest thoughts of ourselves are consist-
ent with a profound reverence for the spiritual influence
in our bosoms. It is a great and awful fact, that the
Holy Spirit inhabits the believer. "What? know ye

THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 258

not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost ? "
If this internal work be neglected, poverty will come
upon all our Christian life. The noise and bustUng vanity
of the age tend directly toward such disregard. It must
be opposed by renewed dihgence in cultivating deep,
inward, spiiitual religion. We must not measure our
attainments in piety, by palpable usefidness, or the stir
of beneficent action, however much this is our duty.
The grand aflfair of life is the building up of the spir-
itual temple. We may disparage the power that is
operating within. It is the common mistake of retired
and suffering Christians. Because they are not called
to public manifestations, they think there is no advance-
ment. But knowledge may be rising in a compact and
soUd structure. Taith may be diffusing its mighty in-
fluence on every side. Holy devotion may be sending
up clouds of incense, acceptable to God, Intercessory
prayer may be stretching its arms of love, to take in all
the brotherhood of Christ and aU the family of man.
Appetite and passion may be dying, by repeated blows.
Purity, like that of Jesus, may be arising as a pictm*e
on the soul's tablet, dim perhaps, but brightening. Pa-
tience may be approaching to its perfect work. Sub-
mission to God's chastising hand may be gaining
strength in the furnace. The world may be waning,
and the attraction of heaven waxing more luminous.
Joy in the Lord may be like the fragrance of a field
which God hath blessed. And gentle humility, the or-
Qament and preservative of aU graces, may be growing

254 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGIOK

more constant. Is all this nothing ? Is it not the very
process to which our Master calls us ? It is he that
maketh that which is within. Such reflections are
needful for many a solitary believer, who sighs to think
that no opportunity is given for great deeds in God's
behalf. " They also serve, who only stand and wait."
There is growth in the world of vegetable nature, not
only during sunshine, but in the night. There may be
progress, even where there is no joy. The roots may
be striking downwards into the soil, and the vital
juices of the stock may be maturing, while the late col-
oured flowers are folded in pensive weakness and weep-
ing with night-dews. Inward, inward must we go, for
the true elaboration of gracious virtues. Let tliis be
strongly impressed on those whose circle is bounded by
the walls of a narrow home. Let the poor mother,
whose dependant charge binds her aU day long to the
humblest domestic service ; let the widow, who cher-
ishes her faith amidst complete insulation ; let the be-
reaved lonely one, whom the world has dropped from
its catalogue ; let the invahd, who is cut off from all
social labour ; let the aged, who wonders why a useless
life is lengthened out, know and believe, that to them
also it is granted to glorify God as truly as to the king
or the apostle. Let them cease to measm*e the work
of grace by the external standards of a human activity.
Did not he that made that which is without make that
which is within also ?

The same reasoning may be applied to another class

THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 255

of instances, about which there is frequent misappre-
hension in the churches and even in the minds of the
ministry. We too much measure the work of God
among men by the single criterion of the number of
souls converted. This, it need scarcely be said, is a
glorious work. But the Spirit of God has other opera-
tions besides the conversion of sinners. It is not for
us to bring the two into comparison. Of the influences
of the Spii'it mentioned in Scripture, the great majority
concern the inward work on souls already renewed.
The apostohcal writings are almost exclusively address-
ed to those who are called saints. Sheep must not only
be gathered into the fold, but led to pastm-e. We
might, by carrying out the false view now censured,
lay thousands of foundations, without rearing any edi-
fice. Or rather, we might seek to lay them ; for it is
ordinarily found, that where gracious experience in be-
lievers becomes shallow, there are few conversions.
Now the truth to be considered is, that in every renew-
ed soul, God is cariying forward an invisible work,
more important than the administration of a kingdom.
How the apostle Paul yearned for the advancement of
this, in churches and individuals ! How he laboured
and prayed for it ! I find nothing similar, in the expe-
rience of brethren, or my own. " I would," says he to
the Colossians, " that ye knew what great conflict I
have for you, and for them at Laodicea, and for as many
as have not seen my face in the flesh ; that their hearts
might be comforted, being knit together in love, and

256 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION.

imto the full assurance of understanding, to the ac-
knowledgment of the mystery of God, and of the
Father, and of Christ."

A wise Christian will watch for the blooming of a
single grace in the garden of the Lord, with as real an
expectation, (but 0 how much loftier !) as that with
which the tasteful maiden looks for the opening of some
cherished flower in her conservatory. A single grace,
that buds and blows, comes from God, and is a thing of
beauty in the esteem of Christ, purchased by his sor-
rows, and part of his immortal wreath. With what in-
tense anxiety will the devoted florist attend the opening
of some rare and extraordinary flower, as of the Victo-
ria Regina, or the Night-blooming Cereus ! Let us
not be less awakened when a Christian soul bursts
forth into the manifestation of faith, hope or charity. A
believer, we will suppose, long infected by an unrelenting
malice, at length comes to the point of exercising a free
and full forgiveness of the offender, even as God for
Christ's sake forgave him. It is an inward work ; but
how lovely in the sight of heaven ! What an epoch
does it mark in the soul's history ! Call not those la-
bours unfruitful, which are blessed to one such result.
Or a formal, worldly, lingering disciple, is brought at
length to an entire and absolute dedication to God of
all the heart so long withheld. Or, some mountain of
avarice is heaved off"; and the believer henceforth holds
his possessions as a steward for Christ. Or, a sufferer
is made to give up his own \nl], and bow with loving

THE INWARDNESS OF TRTJE RELIGION. 257

resignation to the will of God. Or, hope suddenly be-
comes assurance, and the fear of death is taken away.
These are God's daily works in the church, and we
offend against Sovereign grace if we despise them.
Because they are inward, they can be detailed in no re-
port of successes ; but they are not the less to the praise
of almighty love. When such flowers are blooming in
the garden of the Lord, we must not complain that all is
winter, or speak as we hastily do, of the absence of the
Spirit.

III. But lest any should misunderstand me, I now
acknowledge, that the greatest of God's inward works
is the work of Regeneration. It is this which is the root
of all subsequent growth. To this our Lord remands
the Pharisees instead of all cleansing of the " outside of
the cup and the platter," saying, " Make the tree good."
No change from better to better can be compared with
the change from darkness to light. No point in the
history of a soul has such importance as its new birth.
At this moment only it begins to live, in a spiritual
sense. The veiy transition into heaven is not so criti-
cal ; for this is but the continuance of a life already be-
gun. There is joy in the presence of the angels of
God, at every such transfonnation. We may talk of
great jimctm'es in human hfe ; but it were trifling to
compare any of them with the translation from being an
heir of wrath to being a member of Christ. All dis-
tinctions of rank disappear when such a boon as this is
3onfeiTed. It is to be feared that few kings are made
17

258 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION.

children of God ; but • suppose such a case. Let him
be the greatest monarch on earth, and at the most high
and palmy state of dominion and gloiy. Yet the day
and the hour in which he is called to newness of Hfe, he
is exalted beyond all the pomp of earth. Or take the
case of some Lazarus of the street, ulcerous and forlorn.
The Spirit of God touches him, and straightway he is
richer than all the thousands in purple and fine linen.
God has wrought on him the great inward work.
When some infant soul is savingly affected by regener-
ating grace, it is more glorious than the creation of a
new world. The same is true of the veriest slave, the
Hottentot, Caffre or Cannibal, who is made a new crea-
ture. Is it so then, that we are Hving in a world (the
only one) where such wonders of regenerating power
are transacted every day ? Have we on every hand
those who are still ignorant of this mighty operation ?
Is there in our possession the instrumentaHty by which
God is pleased to bring the dead to life ? And is our
period for applying it, and seeking the salvation of men,
exceedingly short ? Then, brethren, it is high time for
us to start from our stupor, and begin to long and la-
bour for the renewal of the sinner. I have not under-
valued other modes of usefulness ; but unless this is
gained, all is lost ! To be the means in God's hand of
converting a sinner from the error of his way, is the
greatest honour of which we have any knowledge.
Most of us would rejoice to save the life of a feUow-

THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 259

creature ; what ouglit we not readily do or sacrifice to
rescue an immortal soul !

How far have we advanced in our proposed inquiry ?
We have seen, first, the value of single graces, in an im-
mortal soul ; next, the value of an inward life, compre-
hensive of these graces; and lastly, the momentous
greatness of regeneration, which confers and establishes
this life. Such is Religion, as an inward work.

The whole current of reflections tends naturally to-
wards an application to ourselves. The Lord our Sov-
ereign is the creator of the inner as well as the outer
man. He demands the homage and service of the spir-
itual part. On this his glance of scrutiny is unchange-
ably fixed. In this he finds the subject of his greatest
transformations and triumphs. .There must be change
here, within, or all is ruin for eternity. How vain the
attempt to satisfy his righteous claim, by the tender of
an external compHance ! Yet this is the attempt which
besotted men are perpetually repeating. The particular
mode of observance may vary with age and country, but
the reliance is stiU on something which is not the heart.
It may be the cleansing the outside of the cup and the
platter ; or the paying of tithes, ablutions, ceremonial
sanctity. It may be alms, the repetition of prayers, the
attendance on rites and forms. It may go further, and
be the profession of the true religion, and the rendering
of an unblemished outward morality. Yet in aU this the
principal thing is unprovided. Nothing has yet reach-
ed ** the hidden man of the heart." There has been no

260 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION.

work of God upon the secret motive principle. The na-
ture is unchanged. All is unregenerate. How can we
speak and hear these tilings, without sending forth the
anxious inquiry, " Have we experienced this transfor-
mation ? " What avails our external activity or our high
profession, if the heart remains untouched ? One may
be piue before men, and yet may hear Christ saying to
him, " Your inward part is full of ravening and wicked-
ness." Outward obedience is invaluable, when it is the
fruit of a holy heart ; but all the teaching of our Lord
shows that the work must begin within. Obedience is
the child of Love. Prophecy, alms and martyrdom are
nothing without this inward principle. '* Though I be-
stow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give
my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profit-
eth me nothing," Has there been a change within ?
Does it reveal itself by new views, tempers, desires,
joys and acts ? Ah, beloved brethren, how much bet-
ter are most of us outwardly than " inwardly ! How
much higher is the esteem of others for us, than our
judgment of ourselves ! And yet we know om'selves
but in part. If all those points of our external beha-
viour could be abstracted, which are produced by a
reference to human opinion ; by a fear of losing repu-
tation as Christians ; by regard for consistency of char-
acter ; by vanity ; by custom ; by fear ; by shame ;
how much would remain of genuine vitality, of regard
for God's law, of holy operative love? If nothing,
then are we but as whited sepulchres ; and the great

THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 261

hidden work has yet to be begun. No perfection of
exterior seiTice can make up for a want of the Hfe of
God in the soul. The refoimation of things outward,
and the performance of good acts, unless from a prin-
ciple of regard to God, are only like hanging fruits on
the branches of a sapless tree, dead to the very root.
So Christ taught. So the gospel everywhere affirms.
Except a man be bom again, he cannot see the King-
dom of God. If those who hear me, in conscious im-
penitence, would but lay this to their hearts, it would
have an awakening power. The medicine is very bit-
ter ; but it is for your lives. The process of return to
God is humbling and painful, and involves many des-
pairing thoughts of yoiu" own condition. For this rea-
son, multitudes are deterred. But is it not better to
come to this reckoning in time, than in eternity ? A
great step is taken, when the soul is convinced that
there really is such a thing as inward renovation, and
that this has yet to be experienced. Shrink not from
the revelation of yourself to yourself. Use no profane
forces, to drive away the impression which half awakens
you to say, " I will arise and go to my Father ! " That
whispered suggestion is from above. Such stiiTings are
sometimes the heavings of lungs to receive the first
vital breath. God grant you this inward work of al-
mighty power !

XII.

NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED,

NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED.^

Acts xi. 23.

And exhorted them all, that with purpose of heart they would cleave
unto the Lord."

After the addition of new converts to tlie Church,
the matter of next importance is that they should abide
steadfast and go on improving. It is not enough that
they should sit down at the Lord's Table, nor even that
they should be truly renewed. Christian love will fui'-
ther desire that they should adorn their profession, and
go on to form a character of Christian strength and
lustre. The New Testament abounds in proofs that
this was the wish and aim of early teachers and breth-
ren. As apostles and evangelists went from land to
land, it was unavoidable that they should often leave
groups of inexperienced behevers, perhaps reeking with

* New York, May 16, 1858.

266 NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED.

the associations of Gentilism. To prevent the perver-
sion or vexation of such, vras a principal intention of
apostoUc epistles and visitations. Por example, at An-
tioch, one of the earliest centres of missionary diffusion,
where the disciples were first called Christians, some
of the brethren, scattered by the persecution in Judea,
had been very successful in preaching the Lord
Jesus. V. 20 : " The hand of the Lord was with them,
and a great number beheved, and turned unto the
Lord." These are the ancient and authorized terms ;
of which we need not be shy ; they ' beheved,' they
' turned unto the Lord ;' that is, to the Lord Jesus.
Tidings of such conversions are always welcome to the
Saints. News came to the Church which was in Jeru-
salem, who deputed Barnabas, often named afterwards,
in connexion with Paul, to visit the new beUevers of
Antioch. "Who, when he came, and had seen the
grace of God, was glad, and exhorted them aU, that
with purpose of heart they would cleave unto the
Lord." Such then is the primitive strain of advice to
new converts ; and it is as pregnant and pertinent now
as it was then. But it contains some pecuharities of
expression, upon which much depends. Who is meant
by the Lord, to whom the numerous converts were ex-
horted to cleave ? Por those who have carefully studied
New Testament usage, the question can have but one
answer. The Lord Jesus Christ, mentioned just be-
fore, V. 20, as having been preached to them, and to
whom they " turned," v. 21, is undoubtedly he to whom

NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. £67

they were to cleave. Such is the force of the name
Lord, when used absolutely. Here there is the addi-
tional reason, that the Redeemer, as Jesus, is expressly
named in the context. So, v. 24, when " much people
was added unto the Lord," we readily understand, that
as converts they gave themselves to Jesus Christ, and
enlisted under his banner. And there is special ten-
derness in this view, which regards entrance on a reh-
gious life as coming into immediate connexion with the
beloved Son of God and Saviour of sinners.

But what is meant, when converts are exhorted to
cleave unto the Lord Jesus ? The word is significant ;
to cleave is to clin^, to adhere, to stick fast ; and where
the blessed Redeemer is the object, it is to remain in
close and permanent connexion with hun, so as not only
to be constant and persevering, but in perpetual fruit-
bearing progress. The unfolding of this, however, is
now to be our topic, in a series of brief particulars.

The grand affair of life, to be held before new con-
verts, is that they cleave unto the Lord. This is so to
be pressed upon their minds, as that they shall set about
it with what the text calls " pm-pose of heart." It is
something that asks the will. The duty enjoined is
the result of foresight and deliberate pm-pose ; not one
of those things which we fall into, or are overtaken by ;
not a matter of indolent acquiescence or passive resig-
nation ; but what we arrive at by bent of soul, plenary
choice, and a decision wliich disregards all risks. The
one thing which the right-minded convert lays before

268 NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED.

him as indispensable, and seeks to compass by every
effort, is to cling fast to Jesus. This the term imports.
And, unquestionably, the direction imphes that the
persons thus exhorted are already near to Christ, nay,
joined to him. How absurd were it, to ask one to
abide where he is not. These people of Antioch were
already "turned," and " added" to the Lord. There
they were ; and there — so Barnabas desired and plead-
ed— they were to abide. By which we are reminded
of our Lord's so frequent use of a term, radically the
same in Greek, though different in English ; as when he
says, " Abide in me, and I in you "• — " if ye abide in me,
and my words abide in you " — " if a man abide not in
me, he is cast forth," a withered vinebranch. These
are suggestive of many useful thoughts to newly awak-
ened persons, for whose sake we must now notice
several senses in which they must abide in Jesus, or
cleave and cling to him. The attention of those who
lately, or within a few months, have acknowledged
Christ before men, is particularly invited to these expo-
sitions of the duty, which above all others now concerns
them. What is included then in their cleaving unto
the Lord?

I. To cleave or cling fast unto the Lord Jesus, is

TO ADHERE TO THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. The Cvil tO

which this stands opposed is apostasy, or drawing back
unto perdition. The guilt and ruin of this were incur-
red by many even during our Lord's personal ministry.
They turned back and walked no more with him. Of

NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 269

many the apostles had to say, " They went out from
us, but they were not of us." Salutary fear of so tre-
mendous a folly, sin and destruction, is often a means
of preventing it. To cleave to the Lord is the purjDose,
and should be the endeavour, of every Christian disci-
ple, however tempted to go back. The pilgrim meets
many on their return. Even if these deserters never
abandon the communion, they turn back in their hearts
unto Egypt. After the solemnities accompanying their
confession of Clu^ist, they give up all signs of evangeh-
cal piety, and live just as they did before ; usually to
go greater lengths still, from having done so horrid a
violence to their moral sense. But it is the full pur-
pose of a sincere believer, however weak, that he will
never abandon his Lord. All unite in Peter's cry,
" Lord, to whom shall we go ? thou hast the words of
eternal life."

II. To cleave unto the Lord, is to adhere to him

AS THE REVEALER OF TRUTH. This stauds OppOScd to

all departures into heresy and error. To abide in Cluist,
is to abide in his words. The danger of the contrary is
great, and is increased when the endangered person is
wise in his own conceit, and thinks his own powers
sufficient for his protection. Early times saw such,
predicted of old as "heady, highminded," "men of
coiTupt minds, reprobate concerning the faith." 2 Tim.
iii. Some, in Paul's day, "having swerved," had
" turned aside imto vain jangling ; desirmg to be
teachers of the law ; understanding neither what they

270 NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED.

say, nor whereof they affirm." 1 Tim. i. 6. And the
same apostle foretells a day, when men " will not en-
dure somid doctrine — shall turn away their ears from
the truth, and shall be turned unto fables." 2 Tim. iv. 3.
These are sufficient warnings to make us cleave unto
the Lord, as the fountain of the truth which we have
believed. Let the young professor beware of that
which is mentioned as characteristically the sin of the
novice ; viz., the being puffed up with pride, the con-
demnation of the devil. 1 Tim. iii. 6. Let him sus-
pect the zealous vender of a religious nostrum, which
shall give him in some compendious way a peace
not warranted by common Christian experience. Let
him remember, that the new convert, whose appetite
often surpasses his power of discernment, is singularly
liable to be duped by error. Let him humbly decHne
the office of teaching that which he has scarcely learnt.
Let him be " swift to hear, slow to speak." Thus,
as new-bom babes desiring " the sincere milk of the
Word," that they may grow thereby, young Christians
shall acquire solid strength and confirmation. In or-
der to all this, the only security is to abide in Christ,
as the Prophet of his people, clinging to him for in-
struction, and waiting at the posts of his doors, as the
primeval Wisdom ; the Way, the Truth, and the Life ;
the Sun of righteousness ; the true Light, which Hght-
eth every man that cometh into the world. Thus, with
fatherly affection, speaks the apostle John : " And now,
little children, abide in him ; that when ye shall ap-

NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED.

271

pear, we may have confidence, and not be ashamed be-
fore him at his coming."

III. To cleave unto the Lord Jesus is to make him

THE OBJECT OF OUR CONSTANT FAITH. This is the op-
posite of a most easy and dangerous habit, namely, un-
belief. Such clinging of the soul to Christ regards
him as our Atoning Priest. If we ever came to him,
we came thus reposing on him for righteousness and
salvation ; if we cleave to him, stay by him, embrace
him, hang upon him, and never let him go, it will be
by constantly reiterated acts of the same faith. All
strength and joy rest upon this foundation ; all fruit of
praise and love grows out of this root. " As ye have
therefore received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in
him, rooted and built up in him, and stabhshed in the
faith, as ye have been taught, abounding therein with
thanksgiving." As preventive of the evils already
mentioned, there is no such power in anything as in
faith. As it apprehended Christ first, so it holds him
fast. Not more fitly does the babe he in the mother's
arms, than the young behever is recumbent amidst the
pardoning mercies and loving kindnesses of the atoning
Lord. Though aged in the world's computation, he
may be only a child in experience. Therefore he clings
to his strength. If accepted, it is in the Beloved ; if
pardoned, it is as ungodly. Could his soul by possi-
bility be for one instant severed from his Surety, he
would be as unprotected as ever ; hot thunderbolts of
justice would find him out. His only safety is in being

272 ^^ DIgCIPLES ADMONISHED.

covered and shielded by the blood of expiation ; and
this is over him just so long as he is " in Christ." The
emphatic preposition in imports not merely adherence,
but union ; and this union is set forth by diversities in
language, for human speech labours with the unaccus-
tomed thought. Turn again to John xv. 4, " Abide in
me, and I in i/ou." " He that abideth in me, and I in
him, the same bringeth forth much fruit ; for loitlioiit
me ye can do nothing."

All other advices to new converts are less important
than this, of looking constantly to the Cross of Jesus
Christ. When you cease to do this, it will be a breach
of continuity between the vine and the branch ; the
vital sap will flow interruptedly ; and the vivid green
will give place to dryness and decay. So long as you
hate the remains of sin, and truly repent of them ; so
long as you feel shame and grief for the transgressions
of former days ; so long as you are disheartened with
daily failures ; so long as conscience challenges you for
corruptions, you will be constrained to cleave unto the
Lord, and to live under the baptism of his cross ; that,
with Paul, you " may be found in Him," " not having
your own righteousness, which is of the law, but that
which is through the faith of Jesus Christ, even the
righteousness which is of God by faith."

IV. To cleave unto the Lord, no man can deny, is

TO ABIDE BY HIS COMMANDMENTS, OWuiug him aS OUT

Ruler. Messiah is a King. This he avowed to Pilate.
In this character he is received by every repentant soul.

NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 273

Every rebel who lays down his arms, approaches the
throne of Jesus and does him homage. New converts
to any reHgion follow a leader, and are named after a
head. To cling to him and yield to his will, follows as
a matter of course. Entering on a Christian career is
not a mere change of opinion, school or party, but the
beginning of a new life. Every one understands it to
imply a new path of conduct. What Christ our Lord
demands, comes before us sometimes in the shape of
positive act, and sometimes in the shape of forbearance
or abstinence. Either way, we own his government,
obey his will, and receive law at his hands. Either
way, we adhere to him as our Lord. The hfe indicated
by these demands includes the highest morality; so
that it is a solecism to speak of an immoral Christian.
Why should we cite chapter and verse ? The entire
New Testament, from the Sermon on the Mount to the
denunciations at the close of the Apocalypse, bears on
its face the prohibition of every sin, in Christ's follower.
Inward, secret, spiritual sins are probed for and ex-
tracted to the light by the ethics of the Gospel. The
conversion which does not, in some good degree, con-
vert a man from his sins, is spurious. Abiding in
Christ is abiding in his service, walking in his will, do-
ing that which shall please him, and Hving to his glory.
And this derives new force from the consideration, that
hoHness, whether of heart or conduct — in other words,
cleaving to the Lord in duty — can by no means be
secured, except by cleaving to him in acts of personal
18

274 NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED.

faith and affection. But this leads us to another point,
which may indeed be considered the very same under a
new aspect.

V. To cleave and chng to the Lord Jesus, is to
roLLOW HIS EXAMPLE. To evcry convert he says, as
to those beside the lake of Gennesaret, " Follow me ! "
This is more than obedience ; it is imitation ; it is do-
ing not only what the Master commanded, but what he
did himself. We walk in his very footsteps, as closely
as we know ; that is, we cleave to him. It is as though
we took hold of his skirts, amidst the crowd of conflict-
ing tempters ; determined not to lose sight of him, but
to keep him always in our presence. The instances
are too numerous for detail ; let us attend to two leading
cases. 1. The Lord went about doing good. Sincere
disciples follow him in this. Remembering what he
said about the twelve hours of the day, and the night
which Cometh, they are on the alert. " I must work
the work of him that sent me, while it is day," is both
his language and theirs. Active beginnings are useful,
and none can begin too soon. Of most it may be said,
what they are during their first months of profession,
they wiU be through life. Selfish pleasure, in the com-
forts of experience and ordinances, may fix the soul in a
habit of religious inactivity. Duties which do not ter-
minate on ourselves, are not easily remembered by the
narrow-minded. Hence the adage should make our
ears tingle : " To do good and to communicate, forget
]\f)t, for with such sacrifices God is well pleased."

NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 275

There is no stimulus to labour, like the example of
Christ. 2. The Lord bore his Cross. Sincere con-
verts come near him, and cleave to him in suffering.
" And whosoever," said his own blessed hps, " doth not
bear his cross and come after me, cannot be my dis-
ciple." We are not to make our own cross ; that were
superstition or presumption ; but we are to bear Cluist's
cross. Learn to expect it. Try your shoulders before-
hand. Count the cost. Ask yourself concerning the
cup which he drank, and the baptism which he was
baptized mth. Many a convert runs well, for a while ;
but the cross affiights him. He that receives the word
into stony places " heareth it, and anon with joy re-
ceiveth it." You expect great perseverance from such
warmth. Yet what follows ? " He hath not root in
himself, but dureth for a while ; for when tribulation or
persecution ariseth, because of the Word, ' ah ! ' by and
by he is offended," he stumbles, he falls, he is left be-
hind. Many a summer-bird which kept on the wing
and caroUed gaily during the May season of revival and
sacraments, flees away at the first approach of storms.
We must make up our account to cleave to Jesus,
through good report and evil report. And in every
other duty we are to walk as he also walked.

VI. To cleave to Christ is to abide by liim, as the

rOUNTAIN OF GRACE AND GIVER OF THE SPIRIT. At

regeneration the once alienated, severed, depraved soul
is touched by the Holy Spirit, who employs tmth or
light as his instrument. At this instant of illumina-

276 NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED.

tion, the rescued being is brought into connexion with
Christ as the Head. At this engrafting into Christ, the
vitality of the Head becomes the vitaUty of the mem-
ber. Or, better to preserve the harmony of our figure,
the life of the vine is the life of the branch ; all from
spiritual union. To maintain this union, is to cleave
unto the Lord. As the convert has been brought to
Christ Jesus, so he is to cling to him. The analogy of
the Vine, John xv., is explanatory of this : " As the
branch," says our Lord, " cannot bear fruit of itself,
except it abide in the vine, no more can ye except ye
abide in me." " As the Eather hath loved me, so have
I loved you; abide [continue] in my love," that is,
' cleave to me ; cling to me ; hold fast to my love.'

A consciousness of weakness belongs to the most
thorough converts. Humility is a sign of conversion.
Not a desponding, but a trustful humility ; because the
child of God rests in Jesus, as his strength ; and hears
the whisper, " My grace is sufficient for thee."

Prayer in secret is the chief means of clinging to
Christ in this sense. In closet devotion, unless it be
formal, scanty, or hurried, the young Christian comes
to the feet of the Lord, touches the hem of his garment,
and gazes into the eyes which beam with love, even if
he does not lean upon his bosom. Cleaving to Jesus,
he has communion with him, in regard to all his offices,
excellencies, and divine graces. Using the word prayer
to comprise all devotional contemplations and ascrip-
tions as well as beseechings, it is the very cleaving of the

NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 277

loving soul to our Saviour ; and is the capital means of
growth in grace. " Praying will make us leave off sin-
ning, or sinning will make us leave off praying." Such
converse with God, especially over the inspired volume,
secures against defection and error, procures pardons,
sprinkling of the expiatory blood, and the Spirit of
adoption ; mortifies secret, lurking, insidious sins, quick-
ens the pulse of zeal and the pace of service ; arms for
battle, lifts the com^age, and sweetens the cross. Thus
may the new disciple advance day by day, looking
unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of his faith ; cleav-
ing unto Jesus, the vital heart, from whom all the cir-
culation of holy thought, feeling, choice and act derives
its impulse.

VII. Finally — To cleave unto the Lord, is to cling
to him AS OUR portion and happiness. No one is
converted to a naked sense of duty, allowance of obhga-
tion, wilhngness to suffer, or pm-pose to do right. All
these grow out of discipleship, but they are its acid
fruits ; riper, mellower experiences load the branches on
the sunny side. Faith looks to Jesus, recognises his
divine triumphant lovehness, yields to his invmcible
charms, and sinks with dehght into the arms of his in-
finite affection. Abide there, O young disciple, O re-
cent behever ; cleave to that bosom ; hang upon that
arm. Let Jesus be not only thy Saviom-, but thy
bliss. Let thy soul's utterance be : "I charge you,
O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and by the
hinds of the field, that ye stir not up nor awake my love

378 NE^ DISCIPLES ADMONISHED.

till He please ! " That so high an enjoyment of Christ's
presence should be uninteiTupted, or even very frequent,
is perhaps more than we ought to expect in the present
mingled state, where shower and sunshine checker our
April-day. But if you have not attained to knowledge
of any such preciousness in Christ, ah ! there are yet
before you chambers opening into your porch of early
profession, all replete with joys. If you mean to perse-
vere in a cold, staid routine, of heartless, joyless, tear-
less rehgion, it is not hard to predict that you will swell
the ranks of those professors who speak loudly and give
largely, while they betray the absence of all genuine joy
in the Lord, by rushing with avidity into the covetous-
ness, the ostentation, or the frivolous amusements of
the world. Christ and his joy need no eking out by
the pleasures of sin and folly. God grant that those
who have lately sat down at the Lord's table, may be
fi-om the beginning accustomed to hang upon the Mas-
ter for their soul's gratification. It is when they go
away from him that Satan seizes them and wins them
to his snare. " If any man love the world, the love of
the Father is not in him." Cleaving to Christ is re-
nouncing the world, as our happiness. " These things,"
said oiu- Lord, about to die, " have I spoken unto you,
that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy
might be fuU," xv. 11. Remark how fulness of joy is
found in imion with Cln*ist.

This bhss of cleaving to the Lord, in a beheving
connexion, may be shared by many ; and the disciple

NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED.

279

cannot but feel the warm contact of a loving throng
pressing with him, shoulder to shoulder, towards the
heart of Jesus. Such was the tenor of his prayer,
xvii. 22 : " And the glory which thou gavest me have
I given them : that they may be one, even as we are
one, / in them and thou in me, that they may be made
perfect in one." Look around, then, upon those who
are with you in Christ, and resolve to know and to re-
ceive one another in the Lord.

What has the text yielded us ? What have we
learned to be meant by cleaving unto Jesus ? That we
hold fast to his reUgion, abhorring the thought of apos-
tasy— that we adhere to him as the Revealer of truth,
avoiding every heresy and error — ^that we rest upon
him by faith as our atoning Priest — ^that we kneel to
him as om^ King — ^that we cling to, his example — ^that
we keep near him as the source of all spiritual, sanctify-
ing influence — and that we abide in him as our ever-
lasting portion and ultimate good.

Beloved friends, who have so recently phghted your
faith to Christ, can any laboured apphcation be neces-
sary ? You know this Jesus. You have found him,
or rather he has found you, afar out of the path, perish-
ing on the wild moimtams. He has borne you back to
the fold, having laid you upon his shoulder. He has
clasped you in his arms. You are on his bosom, encir-
cled in his righteousness, held and comforted by his
Spirit. Can you harbour a thought of escape from
cords of love ? " Will ye also go away ? " God forbid '

280 NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED.

Be exhorted, " with purpose of heart to cleave unto the
Lord." It includes youi* whole duty at the present
junctui'e. But for performing it you need that purpose
of heart, that immovable determination, which can be
neither turned aside nor rent away. The more you
ponder on the Christ of the Scriptures, the deeper will
be your admiration and love, the firmer your resolve to
be inseparable from your Guide. Yet I behold you in
W'^akiicss Tiid danaers, w] ich, alas, ycu cannot apprehend
ai'jlit. 'iVn thousand skeletons along your way, whiten-
ing your path through the desert, should remind you
that professing Christians may fall. Yom* only safety is
in being always near to Christ. The only power which
can keep you there is the Holy Spirit of God, who at
first opened your eyes and conducted you to the Re-
deemer. Pray that he would take the things of Christ
and show them unto you. Cry daUy to him, that he
would maintain your union with the living head. " Ye
are complete in him." Every thing depends on your
having right views of Jesus ; beHeving on his name and
dinging to him for justification ; resorting to him for
perpetually renewed pardons; and communing with
him, as the Head of influence and the soul's portion.
Christless conversions will come to nought. Look to it,
brethren, that the Lord Jesus holds the royal, supreme
I'lCt in your ■system and yom* experience. Account the
day lust, ui wnich there is no sense of commerce with
the skies, and tender intercom-se with the heavenly
Bridegroom. He stands at the door and knocks ; he

NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 281

is ready to come in and sup with you. Open the door.
Yield to the divine wooing. Let Christ be all in all.
Beginning thus, you will assuredly go aright. Lowly
adherence to the Lord is the very secret of peace, power
and progress. Never give up your hold ; gi'asp him,
keep him, chng to him, abide in him, hve and die for
him. " Eor ye are the temple of the hving God ; as
God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in
them, and I wiU be their God and they shall be my
people."

XIII.

LOVE CASTING OUT PEAR,

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR *

1 John iv. 18.

" There is no fear in love ; but perfect lore casteth out fear : because
fear hath torment."

" The fear of the Lord is clean," says David, " en-
during forever ;' yet here we learn that fear is cast out.
Again it is said, "The fear of the Lord is strong confi-
dence ;" " be thou in the fear of the Lord all the day
long ;" and " Happy is the man that feareth alway."
Surely, we may conclude, this is not the kind of fear
which is to be cast out ; but some other, which is nei-
ther profitable to us nor pleasing to God. And such a
fear there undoubtedly is, as we shall presently see,
when we turn our attention to the point more closely.
All these commendatory expressions bestowed on Fear,
relate to godly fear, which is only another name for

♦ New York, June, 1848.

286 1^0 VE CASTING OUT FEAR.

true religion. In the Old Testament, particularly, as
you must have observed, piety is frequently named the
Fear of the Lord ; perhaps as frequently as in the New
Testament it is named Love. Not that either is pecu-
liar to these parts of Scripture respectively ; but beyond
a question, good men are oftenest spoken of in the Old
Testament as fearing, and in the New Testament as
loving. Indeed our blessed Creator chose to reveal
himself in that earher day amidst more clouds, more
through the smoke of altars, more in judgments, more
from Sinai, more as the God of holiness and wrath ;
and to delay that more inviting radiance of his compas-
sion, in which we are privileged to rejoice. Good men
loved him then, and good men fear him now ; but Old
Testament love was much hke fear, and New Testament
fear is much Jike love. Abraham and Moses tremble
while they draw near in filial behef ; but John, while
he reverences, rests upon the very bosom of his God.
We may be assiu'ed, however, I repeat it, that the awe-
ful reverence which was felt by patriarchs and prophets,
and even by the seraphim who veil their faces, shall
never be cast out, even by the perfect love of heaven.
In this sense we cannot fear too much, and perfect fear
of this kind does not cast out love, nor in the shghtest
degree impair it. We have therefore still to inquire
what this fear is, which is mentioned in the text.

Looking attentively at the passage, in its connexion,
the best key to sound exposition, you will perceive that
this fear stands opposed to terror in the last day : v. 16,

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR.

287

" herein is our love made perfect, that we may have
boldness in the day of judgment." Fear in the day of
judgment, my unpardoned friend and brother, is a
dreadful fear ; a fear which you ought to consider ; a
fear which you ought to cast out ; a fear which you are
beginning to experience at times, and which may come
upon you amidst your dying agonies. God deHver you
and me from the fear of the Day of Judgment ! You
will fm-ther perceive that this fear stands opposed to
peace of mind and all pleasure : " because fear hath tor-
ment." The original word is used in only one other
place of the New Testament, and means punishment.
There maybe some allusion to future woe, or retributive
pain ; but we need not alter our text : the fear we are
inquuing about Tiatlt torment. It is not a sluggish or a
trifling, but a tormenting fear, which is to be cast out.
This great and distressing apprehension therefore, which
true love expels, is what we must for a httle while sub-
mit to a thoughtful examination.

I. Fear, my brethi'en, even about minor things, is
not a pleasing emotion. In all its forms and in every
degree, it belongs to those states of soul which we would
gladly avoid. Yet to be altogether without it is to be
either far more, or far less than man. In our present
condition it is necessary to fear. The passion would
indeed be unreasonable, useless and absm'd, if we were
in no danger. But the truth is, we are in perpetual
danger. From the moment that the babe asserts its
vitality by a first exclamation, till the closing gasp, we

233 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR.

are in peril. The apprehension of evils is an instinct
or constitutional propensity which we have in common
with the lower tribes. By this we are enabled to shun
a thousand evils into which we should otherwise fall to
our destruction. It is temerity or foolhardiness not to
fear. It is neither unreasonable nor unmanly to fear
real danger. The child, the drunkard, the madman or
the idiot, is exempt from apprehension, in circumstances
where an Achilles or a Wellington would feel the
wholesome alarm. The pilot who should laugh at
the dangers of a passage and go on rocks ; the house-
holder who should he stiU in a conflagration ; or the
traveller who should descend into an active volcano,
might purchase the fame of fearlessness, but would die
as the fool dieth. The unmanly dread is that which
unfits for action, and which increases the danger. Still,
the fears to which man is perpetually subject show that
he is no longer in a perfect state. Pear, look at it as
we may, is a shadow cast over the human path by sin.
It tells of danger ; and danger whispers of penalty.
" Eear hath torment."

Other emotions or passions carry some degree of
pleasure : fear carries none. No man elects it. Every
man would gladly be rid of it. To escape it is to avoid
an enemy. Whatever may be the object dreaded, the
emotion, even when salutary, is distressing. So far
however from bemg salutary, in most instances, it is en-
feebling and disastrous. We fear a thousand enemies
that never come in sight, and ten thousand that never

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 289

had a being. We are ingeniously inventive in our
fears ; conjuring up phantoms, and adding to the ap-
prehensions of to-day the wilder apprehensions of to-
morrow ; alanned for ourselves, and alarmed for others ;
trembling while it is well with us, lest it should not
abide so ; and while it is ill with us, lest it should
grow worse. Single instances of fear, constantly re-
peated, produce a fearing habit, tiU sometimes the
wretched soul can do little else than fear. Such is the
case of many, whose natural disposition this way is in-
creased by misfortune, by disease, by age, by melan-
choly, by superstition, and by a sore and evil con-
science. For this is the true ghost, that haunts the
chamber and draws the cm'tain of the timorous.

Thus far we have viewed fear, as respecting the or-
dinary evils and threatenings of common life ; its pains,
losses, and disgraces. You, my hearers, best know,
whether you have ever feared ; what it was that you
were afraid of ; and what it was that gave pungency to
the trial.

II. But there is one object which is more particularly
formidable, and the very naming of which causes a chill
of dread to run down your body ; it also never fails to
bring up some thought of sin and penalty. It is so
terrible, that I seem to behold the entire human race,
for six thousand years, at their utmost stretch of exer-
tion flying from it ; yet so certain, that of all these un-
numbered tremblers only two are known to have es-
caped. Death is the king of terrors. Hence when
19

290 1^0 VE CASTING OUT FEAR.

Jesus, death's conqueror, subjects himself to the great
enemy, this is one of the reasons given for that unpar-
alleled submission, " that through death he might de-
stroy him that had the power of death, that is, the
devil, and dehver themv^^ho, through fear of death, yfo^m
ail their lifetime subject to bondage." This is deliver-
ance indeed ; and from bondage. AU other fears, short
of eternity, are nothing to this. It has prompted men,
in instances innumerable, to exertions which had been
othervnse impossible. It is true of natural men, who-
ever said it, that " skin for skin, all that a man hath will
lie give for his life." Hence the power of rehgion
shines resplendent, when men " hate their own lives ;"
" love not their hves unto the death ;" and choose mar-
tyrdom for Christ's sake. Even for worldly objects,
however, men have been found willing to sacrifice life ;
but no motives have so remarkably taken away this
dread of death, as Christian faith. The di-ead may be
detected by you, in your own hearts, on a little inspec-
tion.

III. All this, however, Christian brethren, fails to
conduct us to the fuU meaning of our text. This is not
all the fear that is to be cast out ; even including death,
as we have just done ; unless — 0 mark the words — we
further include that for which death is feared. Could
Ave die as infants die : with no forebodings ; with no
accompanying tempter down the valley to the uTcvoca-
hle gate ; with no subsequent anguish ; death would be
reduced to the bare endurance of a bodily pang ; often

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 291

greater in appearance than reality, and not more tlian
you or I perhaps have suffered already. You do not
need me to inform you what " makes cowards of us
all." There is a reckoning after death. Were you en-
sured, in regard to that, your chief terrors would be
quieted ; and though for many lesser reasons you might
indeed desire to hve, yet, heaven being certain, you
would feel instantly relieved from that mountain fear
under which you are now crushed. Witness, 0 con-
science, that our master-dread is of eternal retribution !
What else is the meaning of our apostle, when he says,
" Herein is om* love made perfect, that we may have
boldness in the day of judgment I " Do not our fears
run on before as if hastening to that day ? and will
they not in that day, from such as know not this bold-
ness, extort cries, vain cries, for the protection of rocks
and mountains ? How vain a covert " from the face of
Him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of
the Lamb ! "

It is remarkable how extensive has been the preva-
lence of such terrors among mankind. Account for it
as we may, a large part of the human race have had
them. Christianity does not cause them. They pre-
vail where the name of Christ was never heard. They
are cries from the deep, dark recesses of human nature,
shuddering before the divine retributions. They come
to us from the shades of ancient mythology, echoing
the names of Rhadamanthus, Tartarus, and Phlegethon.
They are repeated in the burnings, mutilations, self-

292 I^O^E CASTING OUT FEAR.

tortures, and human sacrifices of all generations. Fear
of the wrath to come has reared its myriads of altars.
Explain it as we may, the fact is undeniable. There is
a profound sensibility on this subject, natural to man-
kind. We doubt not it is a principle left standing,
even among heathen, as a stock on which to engraft the
true religion. Could we know the whole reality, we
should be amazed to learn how universal such appre-
hensions have been, even among the most barbarous
nations.

Under the fuller light of revelation, we find great
fears among men, in regard to their condition in the
other world. So widely are these anxieties scattered,
that a principal employment of false teachers is to do
them away. Once convince a man that you possess a
secret means of removing his fear of eternity, and you
make him your friend. You have touched the point of
exquisite sensibility. Only relieve him there, and you
have destroyed his chief enemy. Hence, just as men
are daily the prey of empirics and charlatans in physic,
from their thirst for dainty methods of cure, so they fall
readily into the snares of deceivers in religion, from
their anxiety to be secure in conscience. Otherwise,
how could we account for the large reception, by whole
nations, of that stupendous imposture of sacerdotal ab-
solution, the unction and the viaticum ? as though any
ceremonial whatever could reach the spirit or prepare
it for judgment. Or how account for that other delu-
sion, whereby people, with the very words of Christ in

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 293

their hands, set up so-called churches, to persuade men
that God means to break his word, and that the wicked
shall escape all punishment. These and the like errors
invite the souls of men, eager to escape from a dreadful
hon'or of judgment. You may readily convince your-
self how much this has to do with your anxieties, if you
will only imagine your hour of dying to have come ; if
you will only present to your view the bar of Christ ;
and if you will only calculate the amount of relief, which
w^ould be afforded by the certainty of acceptance at his
hands.

IV. These are indeed the chief manifestations of
that which alarms us ; but Tear has a wider domain
and a more magnificent object. Even Death and Judg-
ment, awful as they are, derive all their terrors from a
greater fear : they are only expressions of the Wrath
OF God. This wrath it is which is cnkmdled by our
sin, and which like an infinite fire inflames the rage of
Toplict. When we trace up our fears to their princi-
ple, we find them fixing on one august but dread ob-
ject,— the Lord God Almighty, considered as a God of
infinite holiness and infinite justice. " God is angry
with the wicked, every day.'' It is not more clearly
revealed that there is a God, or that there is a Christ,
than that the Justice of Jehovah goes forth toward the
destruction of the guilty. Is it not so ? Does not the
voice within you, my hearers, testify to the justice of
such fears? " If all in this assembly were to rise, one
after another, in answer to the question. Art thou pre-

294 I^OVE CASTING OUT FEAR.

pared to die ? it is not likely that the majority would re-
ply with that firmness which marks a thorough assur-
ance. Vague hopes ; inconsiderate confidence ; at best
unfounded reasons ; these are what we should find in
most. Over us all there hangs, from time to time, a
heavy cloud, betokening the anger of God, and his infi-
nite opposition to sin. We may not always have the object
precisely before our thoughts, as a definite point in the-
ology ; but we are not at ease ; we lack something to
constitute peace; we feel that God is off'ended; we
dare not meet him. And what is this, dear brethren,
but the inward witness of conscience ? Tor what pur-
pose has God placed this detective spy wdthin us, but
to give warning of this very thing ? These apprehen-
sions may vary, but they are in kind the same. AVhat
is all this but fear of God's justice ? Not, I beseech
you to observe, that holy fear of God, with which we
began, and which will abide in heaven ; but the dis-
tress of a consciously sinful soul in God's presence.
Ah ! it is the rankling of this arrow, barbed and poi-
soned, deep and inextricable. Many a one there is, in
Christian assemblies, who goes and comes for years,
carrying this hidden wound in the bosom. More suffer
thus than the world suspects. On this trouble, neigh-
bour does not talk with neighbour. Often it is hidden
from wife and children. Yet there it is, a wounded
spirit ; a conscience unreconciled with God. Un-
der this head therefore we must include, in their infi-
nite diversity, all the painful apprehensions which men

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 395

have, tlirougli all their lives, in regard to their failures
to please God, and their sense of his displeasure. These
feai's lie iii ambush to come upon us in chosen mo-
ments. They " bide their time." Just as a malignant
and perfidious enemy will sometimes wait till his victim
is feeble, or solitary, or in darkness, and then waylay
him, dart upon him, and inflict the fatal blow ; so these
fears (which are in abeyance, and let a man alone in times
of health and wealth, of youth and prosperity) gather
around him when he is in illness, in despondency, in
bereavement, in poverty, and in declining years. When
you shall be in your chief worldly troubles, then I fore-
warn you, expect youi* chief spiritual troubles. If you
have neglected God in your summer-days, look for as-
saults of your adversary when trials begin to thicken.
Would to God, I could duly impress on men of busi-
ness and of health, the ruinous game they are plajing
with their immortal souls, by procrastinating this grand
settlement to days of debility, pain and despondence ;
to days, alas! that may bring no opportunity of
thought.

V. A clearer view of this fear would be obtained, if
we could see it in one of its great critical moments,
such as the time of conviction of sin. This is a crisis
in the disease of fe:ir. It is not different from all the
rest ; but now the apprehension has risen high, and re-
ceives that last drop which makes it run over the brim.
God is the same ; the danger is the same ; it is the soul
that is different. Its gaze is fixed inward on itself.

296 I'OVE CASTING OUT FEAR.

David's word comes true, My sin is ever before me.
All other tliouglits are absorbed. Instead of this or
that blemisli, like a single drop of blood, behold ! all
has become one gory vision of crimson and scarlet !
There is neither sleep nor nourishment. No sorrow is
like this sorrow, where deep. You know not what you
are preparing for yourself, by neglecting repentance.
This is a condensation of many fears into one, before
which the stoutest minds have been appalled. Now, the
apprehension of God's judgment rises to an acme, and
the soul is in a paroxysm which it cannot long endure.
If it continued, it might unsettle reason. But no au-
thentic case is on record, or known to us, of any in-
stance in which simple sorrow for sin, however poig-
nant, has resulted in alienation of mind.

VI. By which we may be led to turn aside for a few
moments to consider an injiu*ious objection. We often
hear it said that persons are driven to madness by
thinking of their sins ; or that religion has crazed them ;
and even in some instances that they have been lu-ged
to suicide. Now I dare not undertake to say how far
a man who has obstinately rejected the offer of salvation
may be left of God, even in this world : but after many
opportunities of intimate acquaintance with cases of
what is called religious melanclioJy, I can solemnly de-
clare my absolute conviction, that the phrase, in its
common acceptation, is used in misapprehension. Such
melancholy is not religious, in any such sense as that it
is caused by religion. It is undoubtedly true, that

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 297

persons are found in a state of deep melancholy and
even insanity, whose thoughts run perpetually on re-
ligion. It would be wonderful if it were otherwise.
All unsound mhids seize on topics of high interest.
Religion affords such topics. Just as the disturbed
mind fixes on property, family connexions or ambition,
so on religion. And this without its being true that
religion, or even its abuses, caused the alienation. We
have therefore known the same individual agonized to-
day about the salvation of his soul, and to-morrow about
remedies for his body ; insanely in both cases. Yet
neither religion nor medicine was chargeable with his
aberration. The case of Cowpeu, the poet, has often
been cited against us ; but truly stated, it is wholly and
powerfully on our side. There never was, indeed, a
case more striking of what is called religious melancholy.
The gloom was black ; the fear was desperate. Yet, to
charge this to religion, is grossly unphdosophical as well
as unjust. Long before Cowper's religious experience
began, he evinced so marked a tendency to madness,
that, as is well known, he made an attempt on his o^vn
life. When afterwards he attained to evangelical views
of truth, he received from them his fii'st balm and con-
solation. From religion he received nothing but good.
If, aftenvards, he relapsed into a sullen, impenetrable
gloom, it is no more than is usual in such cases. To
all sympathizing friends, instances of this kind are most
trying ; but they belong more to the physician than the
pastor. Reasoning and instruction are for the most

298 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR.

part tlirown away on them. We must commit tliem
to God, in the use of those physical and moral means
which experience has shown to minister to a mind dis-
eased. My apology for this digression must be the
importance of right ideas on this grave subject, and the
fact that its distresses usually take the form of exag-
gerated fear.*

VII. Let it never be forgotten, that much as we
may boast of our reason, oiu- mental discipline, and our
self-control, there is nothing at times more beyond our
command, than our own thoughts and passions. How
much are we at the mercy of God, herein ! Who has
not known the time when he would have given half his
worldly goods to be exempt from one importunate sug-
gestion or harrowing image ? Dreadful apprehensions
of God's anger, whether well or ill founded, are among
the most intolerable of aU our states of mind. The
citadel itself is assaulted. The supporting power itself
cries for support, " The spirit of a man wiU sustain
his infirmity ; but a wounded spirit who can bear ! "
It affords a powerful argument against a hfe of sin,
that the habits of mind engendered and fostered by
such a life, are opposed to self-control, and promotive
of self-afflicting cares and misgivings.

VIII. Taking the highest and most general view of
our subject, the person supposed lives in slavish fear

* Upon this greatly abused topic, and on kindred distresses, I
recommend a small but valuable treatise of my esteemed friend, the
Rev, Joseph H. Jones, D. D.

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 299

OF God. Now what condition of a human soul can be
thought of, more unnatural or more destructive than to
hve perpetually in panic with respect to its Creator, its
Portion, its Savioiu-, than to hate the thought of the
Greatest, Best, and Loveliest ! What more hopeless,
than to shrink with horror from the countenance that is
always turned on us, and be impatient of the searching
eye which we can never escape! This is what im-
penitent men are preparing for themselves in greater
measure than they have yet experienced. Even now
they sometimes shake with terror, or avoid it only by a
violent force put upon the thoughts ; but the great
mystery of fear is yet to be revealed to them.

IX. Even children of grace, in their less favoiu-ed
horn's, in times of temptation, and sometimes at inter-
vals, all their lives long, are troubled with doubts and
terrors. They fear to die. They stiU more fear the
Judgment. If on certain rare occasions, the darkness
is broken, and the behever, trembling, says, " Lord,
thou knowest all things, thou knowest that I love
thee ! " this twinkhng star, just above the horizon, soon
sets, and all is obscurity. Ear be it from us to measure
grace by sensible joys, or to say that doubting Chris-
tians have no faith. Much more tme is it, that pre-
sumptuous, undoubting vaunters of their own cloudless
skies and Pharisaic assm-ance are in danger of surprise
and overthrow. We believe holy souls may be in fear ;
hut we also believe that their fears have no part in their
hohness. " There is no fear in love ; " as om* text de-

300 I^OVE CASTING OUT FEAR.

clares. There is no happiness in fear, " because fear
hath torment." We should all endeavour to rise as
speedily as possible out of this region of mists 'and
clouds, A life which has to be largely spent in discus-
sions of the question whether we are in the path or not,
is every way inferior to a life of going forward in the
way. The degrees of fear vary ; but aU " fear hath
torment." The head cannot be erect, as should be that
of a king's son. There cannot be the higher attain-
ments in piety. The more generous and stimulating
motives are absent. " The joy of the Lord is your
strength." Perpetual fearfulness is as bad in religion
as in the w^orld. It writes a signatm^e of gloom on the
countenance, which discredits religion and deters com-
panions. Heroic Christianity, noble daring, champion-
ship for truth and humanity, call for livelier hopes and
unwavering confidence. Hence all who profess to fol-
low Christ, should listen with a wistful expectation to
every proposal of means for casting out this fear.

X. Before leaving this branch of the subject, let
your minds dwell a little on the condition of those who
are justly exposed to the perpetuity of these fears.
Theii' conscience, if not seared, is a daily suggester of
evil forebodings. They are wrong, and they know it.
The thought of guilt is the thought of punishment.
This servile dread, though weU-founded, has no virtue
in it. Were it increased ever so much, it Avould only
be more like the state of evil angels, who " beheve and
tremble." Their anguish at God's justice is mingled

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 3QI

with no evangelical sorrow for sin : it does not make
them love God any more. Nay, it is generally mixed
with some repining and rebellion. It prompts the
question, " Why hast thou made me thus ? " It drives
away from God, and thoughts of God. Let this con-
tinue, and it frequently issues in the most vehement
opposition to divine things.

If, my dear hearer, you are conscious of no filial at-
tachment to God ; if the thought of God gives you
trouble, or exasperates the pang of conscience ; if the
law is tenible, and the Gospel a dead letter ; if you
still labour for the meat that perisheth, and stiU. forsake
your own mercies ; then, of a truth, you need no
preacher to teU you that " fear hath torment." But
this is a state which admits of degrees. You suffer
more, it may be, than you once did. Who knows but
you may go on to greater suffering ? It will, indeed,
be your own choosing of death rather than hfe ; but
the thing is possible. I have no promise from this
book, to assure you that you shall not reap as you have
sowed. There is nothing in philosophy or scriptm'c to
demonstrate that the fear of to-day may not ripen into
the greater fear of to-morrow ; or that the passions and
torment of an evil nature here may not be carried for-
ward and developed in another state. If death were
the certain antidote of pain and fear, why then, my
brethren, the suicide would be the wise man, and the
scariot who went to his own place, only leaped more
boldly and rapidly to that heaven, for which his brother

302 I-O^E CASTING OUT FEAR.

apostles toiled through sorrows and blood. But no !
you vnW be the same persons beyond death. What
solemn object is that, which yonder rises out of the
ocean, among mists, on the further side of dissolution !
Wliat throne and tribunal emerges from that expanse
of indistinct futurity ! *' It is appointed unto men once
to die . . . but after this . . . the Judgment." Are
you athirst for salvation ? Behold, it is ready for you,
and you may diink " of the fountain of the water of
life freely." But take care how you flatter yourself,
that as a matter of course all fear shall be left behind
you when you die. "The fearful," I say, "the fear-
ful," are specially noted, Rev. xxi. 8, with the unbe-
lieving and the abominable, as having " their part in
the lake of fire." Pear is an ingredient in their cup.
" Pear hath torment."

Ail which is presented to you, not to sink you in
despair, but, on the contrary, to show you the gulf fi'om
which true religion stands ready to dehver you. If
" fear hath torment," which cannot be denied, yet " per-
fect love casteth out fear ;" which is the second topic
awaiting your consideration.

XL That the Love here spoken of is love towards
God, admits of no reasonable doubt. The whole con-
text shows it. Immediately before, he has been men-
tioning fear — fear of God. Immediately after, he gives
this ground of the love intended : " We love him, be-
cause he first loved us." It is true, v. 20, in a follow-
ing verse he speaks of love toward brethren ; but he

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR.

303

speaks of this as a consequence and evidence of love to
God.

The Love of God in a large sense, is the whole of
religion and the fulfilling of the law. All the second
table results from the first. " Every one that loveth
him that begat, loveth him that is begotten of him."
Love is a familiar passion. It is no part of our plan
to treat of its varieties. No agent is more mighty.
Among all nations, in all ages, it is an element of incal-
culable moment in the problems of history. It is the
moral cement of the universe. Just so much order,
harmony, and union are there in the world, as there is
love. It is a self-manifesting principle. We Icnow
when we love. It is a lively, operative principle, break-
ing forth into acts, services, and sacrifices. This is true
even of that common terrestrial love which exists be-
tween parents and children, friend and friend. It is
the same affection in kind, when we rise towards God.
The subject is the same ; it is the same human spirit
which loves. The object is varied ; for it is God who
is loved ; and the degree admits of indefinite enlarge-
ment.

Yet, when we come to consider this holy passion of
the soul, we must not fail to take into view one impor-
tant trait of it, which is, that it is love toioard a perfect
and infinite Being. I fear this is not enough consider-
ed. There are peculiarities of all love towards a supe-
rior. The mother loves her babe ; the good master his
servant ; the teacher his scholar ; the guardian his ward ;

304 1^0 VE CASTING OUT FEAR.

the commander his soldier. Brother and sister, hus-
band and wife, companion and companion, between
these there are strong affections ; but they flow to-
wards inferiors or equals. The regard for a superior is
something different. Consider the love of one whose
life has been saved by his Sovereign. Ascend a little
towards the love of a disciple for his master ; you are
here only beginning, at an infinite remove, to tread the
path upward to the love of God, Love toward one far
above us is a love tempered with veneration and awe ;
and, as was said before, this kind of fear is not to be
cast out. The soul bows and sinks, as wondering how
it dares to love. The supreme excellence, which fixes
the eye and fills the circuit of vision, and is known to
fill the universal sphere of all vision of all united intel-
ligences, the Lord Almighty, fountain and sum of all
glories and all beauties, is a sun too dazzling to be
gazed on with careless eye. Of all human affections,
there is none more solemn. Words fail ; often external
acts of worship fail. When the prayer of God's house
is most lifted up, and the spirit of worshippers most at-
tuned ; when the chorus of the great congregation is
fullest, and the swell of a multitude of voices most em-
ulates the choir of heaven ; even these expression:^ fail,
and the loving heart is conscious of an emotion which
rises and soars beyond them all, till it despairs of utter-
ance, and sits down to say, " Come then, expressive
silence, muse his praise ! " The fearfulness of a soul
flying to God in praise, is the trembling of a dove that

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 395

closes its pinions to sink into the nest. " Return imto
thy rest 0 my soul." It is an awful sweetness ; the
cloud of frankincense amidst which the worshipper lifts
the vail and enters into the holy-of-holies. There is a
perfect consistency between the reverence and the love.
The greater the awe, the greater the happiness. Be
yond a doubt, the hallowed stUlness and adoring feai
of heaven is more deep and awful than even the joy of
death.

What on earth is more solemn than a believer's
death ? Yet what is more joyful ? The love, then, of
a soul toward God, is a love of what is superior, yea,
supreme. It finds its object at the utmost reach of its
ascending faculties ; it descries that object as infinite,
and beholds it evermore transcending all Hmits of com-
prehension, and evermore flying from the approach of
finite powers. The soul despau's of perfectly embrac-
ing ; and yet it loves ! Not one pang of this exquisite
delight, this dread enjoyment, would it give away ;
though it knows that if God should withhold his sus-
taining hand, or open more fully the tide of influence
into the frail vessel, the soul would fain die under it. It
may be that some of those deep sleeps, mentioned in the
Scriptures, were compassionately afforded as refuges for
sinking nature, under the excess of divine manifesta-
tions. Such was the slumber on the mount of trans-
figuration. The love of God, as our infinite superior,
has therefore a sacredness and a sublimity which fuUy
redeem it from all the trivial belongings of natural af-
20

306 I^OVE CASTING OUT FEAR.

fection. It is a love to all God's perfections, so far as
revealed ; for, doubtless, God has unrevealed perfec-
tions, and fields of glory in the immensity of his nature,
which no faculties of ours can comprehend ; hues of
beauty to which our sense is blind, and harmonies of
wisdom and holiness to which our ear is deaf. But
what is revealed is ah the object of our love, and this
love is the principal thing in religion. He that truly
loves God is a redeemed soul and true Christian ; he
who loves him not, is yet in his sins.

XII. Some sincere persons have been much troubled
because the text speaks of perfect love. They know
that if they have any love whatever, it is far from being
perfect ; and that they have never seen evidence of sin-
less perfection in any ; least of all, in those who claim
it for themselves. How then can our fears, say they,
ever be cast out ? If we wait for sinless love, we must
wait for heaven. Oiu* love is so faint, so far from what
it ought to be and from what our God deserves ; so
blemished by selfishness, pride, and passion ; so inter-
rupted by rival affections ; so pulled down earthward
by sloth and camahty; so overhung by unbelief; that
never, never, even for a single hour, could we pretend
to plead such affection as perfect love. Let me reply,
for this is a hinderance which must be removed out of
the way. The apostle does not say that every measure
of sincere Christian love casts out every measure of
fear. This were to condemn and strike from the list
all doubting disciples; a proposal sometimes made

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 307

by zealots and fanatics, but wliich we have repudiated
under a former head. There is not a man that hveth
and sinneth not ; there is not a loving soul that does
not sometimes fear. And " he that feareth is not made
perfect in love." It is perfect love that casteth out all
fear ; every the least degree of it. Even then on the
extreme supposition that the apostle means by this word
a love that is uninterrupted and sinless, he asserts this,
and this only, to wit, that love and fear are so opposed,
that the perfect and absolute prevalence of one excludes
the other ; and further, that where the reign of love is
complete, as we know, for example, it is in heaven,
there is no fear ; and still further, that in proportion
to the increase of love will be the decrease of fear.
The nearer you approach to perfect love, the nearer to
perfect fearlessness, that is to heaven. This, I say, is
the apostle's meaning, even on the supposition, that by
the word " perfect " he intends uninterrupted and abso-
lute sinlessness.

But there is no need of understanding him to mean
this. The word " perfect," as none are so fully con-
vinced as the most diligent and learned students of
the original, has several significations. It is applied to
Job, who sinned egregiously ; and to any thorough
Christian, as, 1 Cor. ii. 6 ; Phil. iii. 15 ; Col. iv. 12.
It is applied to that which is symmetrical, not wanting
its essential parts, sincere and genuine, even though not
smless, and though not consummate in its degree. It
unquestionably here points to a high attainment in re-

308 1^0 VE CASTING OUT FEAR,

ligion ; no common reach of experience ; one of the
summits in om* pilgrimage. And it is no ordinary
fruit which is here propounded, the casting out of fear
— of that fear which occupied our painful attention
just now. If, brethren, you would be delivered from
such an enemy, know ye, that it is by no every-day at-
tainment in grace. It is a measure of attainable love
which is held out to us as a sweet resting-place in the
journey up these mountains ; but we are not to be de-
terred from seeking it, by the assurance that angelic,
heavenly, sinless perfection, is impracticable on earth.
So much it seemed necessary to say, concerning this
love as perfect. It is then the holy, sincere affection of
a renewed soul towards God, so exalted by divine grace
enlarging the experience, as to remove servile and tor-
menting dread.

XIII. Having now considered what this love is (the
subject of the apostle's proposition), let us consider its
operation, i. e. how it casts out fear. 1. Perfect love
casts out fear, because it is founded on just views of
God. No unconverted person has just views of God.
If he knew God, he would be saved. " This is eternal
Hfe, to know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ,
whom thou hast sent." No person, under the anguish
of an alienated mind, under pangs of conscience and
dead works, under legal horrors, under self-condemn-
ing lashes of remorse, has just views of God. All
slavish fear regards God in a distorted manner. It
may not overrate his Justice or his Wrath, but it

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR.

309

amazingly underrates his Mercy and his grace. " God
is love ;" and the sight of this is connected with all true
believing. To see God, is to see his love. To see the
Gospel, is to see its grace. It is believing. Faith is a
reception of God's character, as a God of infinite grace
and mercy. Even true Christians, in those hours when
they have servile fears and are tormented about their
future destiny, are guilty of lapses in their faith ; they
cease to believe in some respects ; they lose their hold
in part on some divine truth ; they look at their Re-
deemer under false Hghts ; in a word, they have not
just views of God.

Do not misunderstand me, as if I made love the source
of faith. Some have so taught ; but in so doing, have
made a preposterous derangement of cause and effect.
We freely own, that between the affections and the un-
derstanding, as also between love and faith, there is a
reciprocity of action. He who loves most, will be most
able and ready to beheve. If any man do Chiist's will,
he shall know of the doctrine. Right affections tend to
clear vision. " The pure in heart shall see God." This
is undeniable ; but this is not what we mean at present.
Faith precedes love. We must perceive the amiable
qualities of divinity before we love them. It is the
order of nature and the order of grace. But when that
regenerating word is spoken, whereby the dead soul
awakes, and the bhnd soul is enlightened, the same fiat
that results in just views of God, results in love for

310 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR.

those august glories which begin to expand before the
enraptured vision.

Now, the very views of God's character which pro-
duce eminent love, do at the same time remove fear.
You once thought of God as a hard master, an austere
judge, if not a tyrant. You trembled as the slave at
the lash. You dared not come to God with any inti-
macy of approach, not even with filial beseeching. You
regarded religion as a hard service, however neces-
sary for escaping from hell ; and conversion as a repul-
sive humbUng process, which you would gladly put off
as far as possible. You often tried to disabuse yourself
of your early impressions respecting God, and to make
him out such a one as yourself : as tolerant of sin and
as regardless of his word. And, failing of this, you
earnestly sought to flee from his presence. If sudden
danger, or violent illness and possible death, came on
you, how terrific and black were aU yoiu* thoughts of
God ! You beheld in him every thing rather than the
Friend and Father; and you were ready to quarrel
with the system of doctrine which exalts his immaculate
purity and inflexible justice ; as if by your prejudices
you could undo the reality of God's attributes. Was
not this the view you habitually took of God ? It was
totally false, grossly unjust to your Maker and Re-
deemer, perverse, absurd, and ungrateful. 0, the
blessed change, when grace opened your eyes ! How
you looked on God, as on a new discovery. How the
familiar words, which tell of him in hymns and cate-

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. ^H

chisms, seemed a fresh revelation. Now you wondered
how you could ever have had doubts and misgivings
about him who is the most Blessed and the most Lov-
ing. You charged your souls with the sin of having
lived with your chief friend so long, as though he had
been your chief enemy. New light has broken in on
your cell. You contemplate Jehovah as the infinitude
of moral perfection ; you are absorbed in the contem-
plation ; and own that you were made capable of love
in order that you might love such a being.

Now, my brethren, these are just views of God ;
though infinitely below the truth. And so beholding
Jehovah, as containing in himself all that is entrancing-
ly excellent, and all that is boundlessly benevolent, in-
efikbly piu-e and great, and immeasurably communica-
tive of happiness to his creatures, you found your love
on a view, which at the very same time forbids you to
fear. Wliat place is left for servile fear ? If any, it
must be in some disbelief of such a character in God.
Admitting this, you cannot but draw nigh. These as-
pects of the divine nature are attractive. They draw
the soul in confidence. They command the affections
in fihal repose. Nothing conceivable can so expel
doubts and terrors as the true beholding of God as he
is ; and love and confidence are twin streams which
perpetually mingle their waters.

2. Perfect love casts out fear, because it is founded
on a belief of God's love to us. Consider what is the
reason of all our religious fears. Is it not that we ap-

312 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR.

prehend that God does not love us ? For if he really
loves us, and intends our salvation, fear on this point is
shut out ; it were insane to fear. Only acquire the un-
wavering conviction that God regards you with com-
passionate kindness, and your dread of all consequences
vanishes. Just in proportion as you credit this con-
cerning God, just in proportion as you know him to be
on your side, will you be raised above fear. Now, my
brethren, I pray you to perceive, for it is the main dis-
covery of the New Testament, that the revelation which
you need to banish your fear, is the very revelation
which the Gospel was sent to make. The Gospel is
none other than a declaration of God's stupendous
method of saving sinners. The belief of the Gospel is
belief of this ; it is behef that God is your friend. It
is a looking out of the soul upon God as a God of love,
giving himself to us as a Saviour. And it is this view
of God and this behef of the Gospel which is the cause
of that love which casteth out fear. Do you doubt
this ? Just call to mind those portions of your expe-
rience which coincide with the matter in hand. Recol-
lect what change of views made a change of affections ;
what it was that melted you into love. Was it not
your sudden apprehension of the truth that, notwith-
standing all your sins, God loved you? Was it
not your coming all at once to recognise the neglected
truth, that even your greatest transgressions could not
keep you from the enjoyment of God's compassion, if
you would but accept it in the Gospel ? And is not

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 3^5

this just what the apostle says ? v. 14 : " And we have
seen and do testify, that the Pather sent the Son to be
the Savioiu* of the world." v. 16 : "And we have known
and beheved the love that God hath to us." Mark, my
brethren, what it is that we have known and beheved.
" God is Love : and he that dweUeth in love dweUeth in
God, and God in him." There is no fear in love. " We
love him because he fii'st loved us." Here we have
arrived at the sacred fount of love to God. It flows
from a belief of God's love to us. " We love him be-
cause he first loved us." Some interpreters, I know,
in order to hold up a metaphysical scheme of disinter-
ested benevolence as the sole essence of virtue, would
explain this verse to mean only that unless God had
loved us first, we never should have loved him : they
deny that om* view of his love to us is a source of our
love to him ; they exclude all love of gratitude, as self-
ish. They might as weU exclude all human natiu-e, or
all the gush of blood from these hearts. Eveiy true
convert, unspoiled by inventions of sophistry, feels
the warm cun-ent of his soul going forth in love to
God, for this very reason, and undert his very motive,
that God has loved him. It is true, we love God for
what he is in himself. But the greatest, most inteUi-
gible, and most affecting view of what God is in him-
self, is the view of what he is to tis, of his unspeakable
love in redemption. And no man ever so loves as when
he beholds this love of God to himself most clearly.
Brethren, it would be unpardonable in me not to

314 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR.

say, that the highest demonsstration of this divine pity
is in the incarnation and death of Jesus Christ. " The
Father sent the Son to be the Sa\dour of the world."
It is therefore at the foot of the cross that our love is
most awakened, and that our hearts are melted by the
blood of Jesus. For the same reason, it is at this cross
that our fears are most removed. Faith, hope and love
mingle their tribute just here. Terror cannot abide
where the Son of the Highest is seen dying for our sins.
AU the unworthy fears of awakened sinners arise from
their keeping away from the Cross. Bring your hearts
hither, and your apprehensions will depart, like birds of
night at the dawning.

3. Perfect love casts out fear, because it is of the
very natm-e of love to promote confidence. The princi-
ple is familiar. Select your instances where you please,
and you shall find this gentle, generous passion always
trustful. I have heard of jealousy as the offspring of
love ; I never beheved it. This foul spirit comes of
pride, selfishness and envy. True love rests on the ob-
ject beloved, with all the repose of certainty ; even in
human attachments. But when the soul flows forth
towards infinite perfection and eternal love, it can no
more suspect than it can hate. The same state of mind
which looks to God with admiration and gratitude,
looks to him with hope. Those fears, which we must
entertain towards an enemy, or an untried friend, would
be treacherous towards one who commands our su-
preme attachment. The more childhke your affection,

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 315

the fuller your confidence. The child in the mother's
anns has its Httle heart poisoned by no misgivings as
to the power or will of that mother to do it good. As
Httle can the renewed soul, while in the exercise of love
to God, harbour any slavish terrors. Let it ascend
higher in its contemplations of divine excellence, and in
the flight of its adventurous admiration ; let it expa-
tiate upon this ocean of magnificent beauty and awful
grace ; let it become so lost in the abundance of these
attributes as to forget self altogether ; let it surrender
itself a captive, smitten by the celestial fascinations of
immutable and endless Wisdom, Might, Purity, Recti-
tude, Truth and Grace ; let it enter into the bleeding
chamber where these are all blended in the dying Im-
manuel ; and here, where love is reigning, it will feel
that Eear is cast out. Hope meanwhile spreads the
untiring wing, and sets forth upon the eternal flight.

In these three ways, then, we observe love casting
out fear ; as founded on just views of God ; as caused
by behef of God's love to us ; and as, of its veiy nature,
leading to confidence.

XIV. Now let us hasten towards oiu* close by press-
ing this, as the grand import of the text : that the more
love the less fear. If there is no love, then fear is domi-
nant. If there is little love, there is great fear. If love
is flickering and inconstant, there is perpetual interrup-
tion from doubt and terror. If love to God is gaining
the upper hand, and even by many blows and hard
conflicts coming to abide in love, then the habit of mis-

^1Q LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR.

giving and apprehension is broken, and, as we often
observe, even in chambers of illness and old age, the
expectation of heaven becomes in a measure constant.
Does not all this reveal a certain luie of direction, a ten-
dency, a rising towards perfection ? If the love could
at any moment become sinless, and drop its last weight,
how joyfully would the soul rise from the realm of
doubt, and leave all fears forever behind it ! Brethren,
it shall ^0 rise ! Presently this mortal shall put on im-
mortality, and death be swallowed up in victory. Our
imperfect views of God, even here, are the chief cor-
rective of fears ; but " when that which is perfect is
come, then that which is in part shall be done away."
Then will be brought to pass the saying, that " perfect
love casteth out fear."

There is a practical direction of great importance to
be derived from the doctrine which has occupied so un-
usual a portion of our thoughts this day. If you desire
to be rid of those fears which vex and disturb you,
seek to abound in the love of God. Give over those
fruitless endeavours to calm your mind by perpetual
probing of its wounds, and brooding over its corrup-
tions. You knock at the wrong door, if you seek the
cure of fears from law. The Law has no such ofl&ce.
The Law threatens wrath. The Law condemns and
slays. The shortest and surest way to be bold even
*' in the day of judgment," is to " dwell in love." And
where did the beloved disciple learn this love, but on
the bosom of Jesus Christ ? One irradiation of love.

LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. gjy

like the roseate tints of evening sky, suflPuses this whole
epistle. These swan-like notes befit the serene old age
of such an apostle. His great argument even against
the world is love. " If any man love the world, the
love of the Father is not in him." " He that loveth
not, knoweth not God, for God is love." " In this was
manifested the love of God toward us, because that
God sent his Only-Begotten Son into the world, that
we might hve through him." iv. 9. The lesson is
learnt of Christ ; and Christ is apprehended by faith.
All your doubtings wiU give way before just apprehen-
sions of gospel grace. If you are still harassed, still
in occasional darkness and tremor, it shows that you
still entertain some erroneous views of Christ and his
work. Purge out this leaven of the Pharisees. Come
to the Redeemer for a whole salvation. Add no jot or
tittle of your own. See the things that are fi'eely given
you of God. Love him that first loved you, and while
you sink into his arms, and surrender aU to him, with
a joyful, absolute self-renunciation, let this confiding
love swell and abound, tiU every figment of distrust
shall be swept away. For, against every challenge, in
time or eternity, this may be your rejoinder: "He that
spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us
all ; how shall he not, with him, also freely give us all
things ! "

XIV.

THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN

THE YOITNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN*

1 OOBINTHIANS Xvi. 13.

" Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong."

We live at a time when our ears have again become
familiar with reports of warfare. It is easy therefore
for us to imagine a general surveying his forces as they
disembark from their transports upon a foreign shore.
If now we should suppose him, as commanders are
wont to do, about to harangue his troops, what would
suggest itself as his most welcome mode of address?
Shall he say to them, " Soldiers, I rejoice to inform you
that you are about to experience no struggles nor blood-
shed ; no battle awaits you ; all enemies have vanished
from the land." Assuredly not, you reply. This were
to insult their valour and mock their expectations. It is

* New York, January 28, 1855.

322 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN.

for conflict that the soldier girds himself; and especially
to youthful enterprise and courage there is in\dtation in
the sound of the trumpet, and incitement in the call to
arms. Nor can the Christian combatant go through
his campaign without hardship and blows. The Apostle
Paul therefore addresses youthful Timothy thus : " Thou
therefore endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus
Christ ; " or thus : " Tight the good fight of faith, lay
hold on eternal hfe, whereunto thou art called, and
hast witnessed a good profession before many wit-
nesses ; " or thus : " Thou therefore, my son, be strong in
the grace that is in Cln-ist Jesus." All these are warn-
ings of that opposition, contest, and difficult struggle
which fall to the lot of the believer, and for which much
force of resistance and assault is required. In the text
this idea is manifestly present, and the Christian war-
rior is addressed in terms which sound of the camp and
the army : " Watch ye," be awake, on yoiu: guard ;
vigilantly looking out for the enemy, armed at every
point, prepared against every surprise, sensible of your
danger and your weakness, and forewarned against your
malignant and insidious enemy. " Stand fast in the
faith ; " know the truth, beheve it, beheve it strongly ;
cling to it, against all ridicule, loss, and persecution ;
be firm and constant in adherence to Chiist, the great
object of faith, and source of power. " Quit you like
men ; " the result of vigilance and assured faith ; act
tlie manly part. Thus Joab said to his party on a
noted occasion : " Be of good courage, and let us play

THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 323

the men for our people, and for the cities of our God,"
2 Sam. X. 12. Exhibit the high intrepid bearing which
becomes Christians, acting in the name and for the
honour of their Redeemer and King. " Be strong ; "
go out to this warfare with full confidence in divine
aid ; be strong in the Lord and in the power of his
might ; be stout-hearted and vaUant, and by this be
successful and victorious.

The topic seems peculiarly suitable to young Chris-
tians ; and for their sakes I would deduce from these
words the value of an earnest, manly and courageous

CHRISTIANITY.

As in Christ Jesus there is neither male nor female,
the subject belongs not •only to Christian men but to
Christian women ; yet as I appear before a society of
young men, and as in all aggressive movements it is
they who must take the lead, the remarks which foUow
shall be directed towards the consideration of this vigor-
ous rehgion as existing in young men. Reasons will
appear in the sequel, why we may lawfully single out
such a portion of the race as that which, speaking in
general terms, is destined to sm^vive ; and why we are
justified in stdl further narrowing the field, by address-
ing our admonitions primarily to those who profess the
faith of Christ, as the class contemplated by the text,
and as that which must be the source of influence to
its coevals.

If we might have all wishes in one, we could wish
nothing better, nothing greater, than that the youth now

324 "^^^ YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN.

growing up should be cast into the right mould. A
present generation, duly trained in boyhood and adoles-
cence, will make a coming generation of men, (I wish
our otherwise rich English had two words, as most
other languages have, to express the thought,) of men,
who shall stand in the battle. Of poor sauntering
triflers, in human shape and men's apparel, we have
enough ; of literary Sybarites, bred on stories, fugitive
poetry and monthly magazines; of minute scholars,
glorying in the niceties of metre and accent, college
honours, and other tongues ; of dressed creatures that
sweeten soirees and playhouses with their odours ; of
things that flutter and die in the light of fashion, as
moths about a lamp ; of religious professors that almost
ask leave to serve Christ of the sons of Behal who sur-
round them ; more than enough have we of such young
Americans, aping every effete custom and appropriating
every fungous abuse of the old countries, and spoiled
tenfold worse by every voyage and travel abroad, so
that they blush at the marks of an American as much
as their fathers would have gloried in the same ; more
than enough of young men whose everlasting discourse
is of the last amusement or the last scandal. But of
MEN, spirits in earnest, souls that have an aim, bent to-
wards some object, and that a great one ; bearing and
doing, training themselves by toil, by temperance, by
self-denial, by prayer, for the benefit of the greatest
number, it must be confessed with lamentation that we
nave but few. And if, as we suppose, the times which

THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 325

are coming on the earth will demand such men, strong
to do and strong to suffer, our only mode of providing
them is to deal with the young, and to pour the plastic
masses into the shaping mould.

Our Saviour long smce taught us that the children
of this world are wiser in then* generation than the
children of light. Worldly governments, cabinets and
and war-bureaus are wiser and more provident than
the church. The great contemporary drama in the
Crimea teaches us a hundred mighty lessons ; and I
marvel, that at such a time there shoidd be people empty
and heartless enough to crave, in vulgar playhouses, the
excitement or diversion of stale mimicry, mouthed by
despicable players whom they would refuse admittance
at their doors, or the provocative displays of semi-nude
dances, at which a Roman matron would have blushed
* celestial rosy red ;' at such a time, I say, when great
tragic actions of real life and real death are held forth
to view in that more than Trojan peril and endurance
under the walls of Sebastopol. Go thither, ye poor
effeminate drawing-room Christians, ye carpet-knights
of a chivalry whose sword is lath and whose shield is
pasteboard ; go and learn what me)i can do and dare,
when they are warmed by a grand motive. Behold
them bleeding in the charge, behold them, harder yet,
languishing to death in the wet and fatal trenches. On
either side, sec the fruits of true manly valour. \'\n[iat
assault will they not venture, what privation will they
not endm-e ? " Now they do it to obtain a corruptible

326 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN.

crown, but we an incorruptible." Our own American
youth, we know, would do the hke in any cause which
interested them, that is, in any earthly cause. In a
single hour, if our city were invaded, thousands of such
as hear me would rally to any call of the country ; and
however unprepared by training, abstinence, and dis-
cipline, would do their best and die in doing it. But
stUl the inquiry returns, why these and similar displays
of manly virtue and self-sacrifice are so much hmited
to eartlily hazards and conflicts? Why should the
children of this world still put to shame the children of
light ? Why do we seldom behold a phalanx of trained
Christians going forth, stately and irresistible, to the
help of the Lord against the mighty ? Are there no
great interests at stake ? Have we nothing as potent
to stir the blood as the taking of a redoubt or the
silencing of a battery ? Can the great passions be
moved only by revenge, bloodshed, crime ? Ah, no,
my hearers, History can show, even though experience
should be dumb ; history can show that there have
been days when the Christian host was animated by a
fire such as never had its equal in conquering armies.
The principles of the faith have a stimulating and em-
boldening power, which, as you well know, was in past
ages irresistible in the view of Gentile and afterwards
of Antichristian foes. Just recall, for a moment, the
earliest progress of Christianity, and consider what sort
of men were engaged in that army. Only close stu-
dents of church history do justice to the rapidity of this

THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 327

conquest. From Jerusalem, Aiitioch, Corinth, Alexan-
dria, and Rome, as bases of operation, the hosts went
forth almost simultaneously to the frontiers of the known
world. The celerity of Alexander's famous marches was
outstripped by Apostles of whom no record exists, who
carried the cross into realms of whose myriad converts
no registers remain. There is this in which the sacra-
mental host differs from other armies ; every soldier
feels the genuine impulse. The Russian, French, or
British private, though drilled to a mechanical exactness
of evolution and practice, and hardened to a bulldog
ferocity, may partake little individually of those patriotic,
ambitious or dutiful sentiments which glow in the soul
of great leaders. But in the chmx-h militant every
missionaiy and every confessor and every martyr was
individually able to give a reason of the hope that was
in him ; and when the Greek slave or the Roman boy
or the Hebrew maid was brought before proconsids and
princes, they were as clear in their testimony of what
they suffered for, even if not so able to argue on it, as
a Paul or an ApoUos. It will never do to ascribe the
unmanly supineness and apathy of many Christian
young men of our times, to any want of animating sen-
timent in Christianity.

If the Reformation did no more, it taught us, that
among the cinders of that old altar there lay coals of
fire which needed but the stirring and the heavenly
breath, to make them flame up to heaven. All the
biuries of romance wither and seem insipid when com-

328 "THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN.

pared with Reformation history. You cannot read an
hour about Luther, Calvin, Zwingle, Melancthon, Knox,
or Melvill, without feehng that you are communing
with men. They had something to Hve for. They had
some principles to die for. There were doctrines at
stake. It is a symptom of the wretched, flaccid, pulse-
less condition of sundry in our day, that they never
speak of theology, of catechisms, of doctrinal sermons,
but with a sneer. The religion which they would like,
if indeed they have thought enough to know their own
mind, would be all sentimentality and all softness.
Their weakened mental organs reject the strong meat.
Know ye, O my beloved young friends, that manly
bone, sinew and muscle, do not form themselves on the
emollient regimen of a Christianity without doctrine.
The men who of old went to the stake, went for doc-
trines ; these doctrines they had learnt in the Scriptures,
elaborated in meditation, methodized in system, preached
to listening thousands, digested in the succinct formu-
las of definition, and left for us, their cliildren, in
those permanent crystals of the Reformed Catechisms,
which are scofied at by amiable wits and religious petit
maitres. Men, men, who can stand fast in the faith,
who can stand alone, who have vertebral columns, who
can bear, who can forbear, who can advance, who on
due summons can strike, men amied with the armour
of righteousness on the right hand and on the left,
that is, with sword and shield, are bred in great study
Df God's Word, and great familiarity with those high

THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN-. 329

evangelic truths whicli are the motive powers of the
spiritual universe. And this partly answers the ques-
tion we have raised about the paucity of Christian
soldiers, who seem to be in earnest, as earthly soldiers
are in earnest. So that the way is prepared for stating
two great means of promoting Christian courage and
strength.

I. The source of manly earnestness is truth be-
lieved. It is so in trade, agricultm'c, mechanics, and
warfare ; why should it be less so in religion ? The cry-
ing sin of our young men in the church is voluntary
ignorance ; ignorance of theological truth in its definite
expression and just connexion. How can they hope
the fire to bum, when they will not take the time or
trouble to lay on fuel ? The most intense heat, and
consequently the most powerful action, proceed from
deep inward conviction of religious truth, derived from
laborious study of the Scripture.

I foresee your reply : you have no time. The age
is so active, city engagements are so numerous, in a
word, you are so busy, that you cannot improve your
minds. Now, if this were a sound answer, we might
dismiss you at once as hopeless, and say, we expect
from you nothing great, nothing steadfast, since all that
is elevated and memorable results from improvement of
the mind. But this is altogether an evasion. No man
who is not a slave is too busy to make himself a
thorough religious scholar, that is, to lay up -within him
the formative elements of manly power. Your engage-

330 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN.

meiits, we will suppose, are very great ; but are you
more busy than David, who bad a kingdom on bis
hands, which be successfully guided in war and peace,
and yet found time to meditate on Scripture, and con-
tribute some noble parts towards its completion ? Are
you more busy than Paul, a traveller by land and sea,
a preacher, author and apostle, whose entu'e life was a
series of lofty deeds and heroic sufferings ; and wlio
yet was deeply conversant with the Bible ? Are you
more busy than Martin Luther, who preached almost
daily, whose correspondence equalled that of a minis-
ter of state, and whose pubhshed books almost make a
library of themselves ; yet who daily and profoundly
pondered on the Word of Inspiration? Nay, there
have been men in every caUing and profession, including
your own, who amidst full and prosperous worldly em-
ployment, have redeemed hours to work the mine of
Holy Learning. Bacon, Grotius, Sir Isaac Newton,
and Chief Justice Hale, may show what philosophers
and statesmen have been able to bestow on the sacred
records. The truth, drawn out of the Scriptures and
made the matter of hvely faith, is that which wakes up
and fortifies the character. And the cause of prevail-
ing frivolity, vacillation and inefficiency, among certain
well-disposed young persons, is, that there is nothing
which they can be said to beheve with all the heart.
We may smile at the Commonwealth-man and the
Scots Covenanter, for the som-ness of their visages : but
those stern dark faces showed like lanterns from the

THE YOIWG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 33^

torch of conviction within ; and mighty faith gave them
earnestness of heart and strength of arm. One secret
of their fortitude and energy and daring is found in
the pocket Bible which each of them carried to the
field, which he rehgiously read in camp, and which was
often found next the heart when his dead body was
earned from the field. The Book of God, when it is
the one book, makes strong characters. Read it, study
it, ponder over it ; be not content, my young friends, to
go over so much daily as a task, or to snatch a passage
in the hurry of an odd moment ; but lay yourself out to
accomplish a thorough investigation of its contents, to
acquaint yourself with its order, structure and har-
mony, to grapple with its difficulties, to systematize its
truths, and to enrich your memory with its golden sen-
tences. This is possible, seeing it is but one volume.
Thousands have done so, and amidst difficulties as nu-
merous and pressing as yours. Hundi'eds of Scottish
peasants and day-labourers are at this very moment well
instructed scribes unto the kingdom of God. And it
will be a happy day for our American churches, when
young persons of both sexes shall place the study of
the Bible at the veiy head of all their intellectual piu-
suits. Then shall we see a race, able as well as Tvilling
to cope with the wily Jesuit and confound the boasting
Atheist. Then shall that life and buoyant activity,
which the vital current of holy truth keeps up, manifest
themselves in the very portion of society where improve-
ment is most hopeful.

832 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN.

II. If we look again for some solution of our mor-
tifying problem, we shall find another cause of the
tameness, irresolution and flight of our common re-
ligious combatants, in the want of devotional habits.
True manly strength in religion is nurtured at the
mercy-seat and at the foot of the Cross. The appear-
ance of zeal may be put on for a little while, but per-
manent vigour must have a perennial source ; and the
spring-head must be within. No external activity,
though pushed to the utmost, can make up for the
want of closet devotion. This is just the point, where
the electric attachment with heaven is effected. Here
the lire comes down from above. If we would learn
how Ehjah, Daniel, Paul, Augustine, Luther, White-
field, Martyn, Payson, and Judson, came to quit them-
selves like men, we must accompany them to their
wrestling prayers. Nor are ministers of the Gospel
alone to be imitated ; scholars, soldiers, merchants, have
learnt this secret of strength, and have thus found a
treasiury of com*age, hope, and success, which the world
never suspected. My beloved young brethren, the
world has already half- destroyed us, when we are too
busy to pray. Better forego food or rest, especially
better forego any amount of profit, than learn to live
without commmiion with God in devotion. Let the
Mohammedan muezzin, from his tower beside the
mosque, penetrate our conscience, when he cries aloud,
at daybreak, through all the lands of Islam, Frayer is
letter than sleep ! Prayer is better than sleep !

THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 333

But the great matter to be pressed is unconnected
with prescribed times or forms ; and the great question
to be asked is, Do I habitually maintain a confidential
intercourse with my Lord and Redeemer in acts of
heavenly communion ? If yea, then the channel of
strengthenmg influences being open, there will infallibly
be boldness and sufficiency for the conflict of life. If
nay, weakness, inconsistency, and defeat must ensue.

The reason why the two things just mentioned pro-
mote manly strength in the Christian character, is that
by the word of God and prayer, more than by all other
ordinary means, we maintain conscious union with God,
the fountain of all power. Here we perceive the con-
nexion between an inward spiritual piety and an out-
ward aggression and triumph. No longer need we dis-
sever the contemplative and the active, in hfe ; one is
the source of the other. When some mighty cataract
bursts over its wall of mountain-rock, we are not to for-
get that the flood has been gathering force and volume
in a long preceding flow. So also the visible activity of
an entei'prising Christian is to be traced to months and
years of secret converse with God.

The more the balance is disturbed by worldly ex-
citement and external bustle in the daily calling, the
more there is need of this preponderating weight of
home-rehgion and closet-quietude, to regulate the other-
wise jarring motions, Uke the fly-wheel or the governor
in an engine. The recluse student and the seden-
tary woman require this peculiar discipline of silence

334 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN.

and shade far less tlian the man of business, who from
mornmg till night scarcely redeems a moment for stated
reflection. He must, by stern resolution and self-de-
nial, gain some hour to hear God speak, and to speak
to God, or he wiU inevitably shrink and wither down
mto the every- day worldly professor ; who is bold at a
bargain and cowardly in faith ; earnest on week-days and
half asleep on the Sabbath; indefatigable in trade-labours
and unheard-of in operations for Christ's kingdom or his
poor; hot upon 'Change and ice-cold in Church.

But the subject is too awful for satire. We need,
in degrees beyond all power of expression we need, men
with blood in their hearts, who shall be as courageous,
as unflinching, as dihgent, and as hopeful in the concerns
of God, as hundreds are daily seen to be in the con-
cerns of the world. We need not pause to show how
unmediate would be the effect on Clu'istians and on
society, if a general outbm^st of such zeal and effort
should be witnessed in our day. And therefore we
may at once proceed to the important truth, that the
only hope of such an event must be founded on the in-
crease of manly piety in the young. Unless those who
are now ductile can take the image and superscription
of such an earnestness, the next generation wiU be no
stronger or nobler than the present. Mournful as the
declaration is, it is not to be disguised, that we who, in
our march, have turned the crest of hfe, and whose
journey is westward and down the hill, have aheady
taken om habit and character. We may regret the

THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 335

past, but clianges for the better, though possible
tlirough grace, are not Hkely to be numerous or remark-
able. And then, our career is chiefly run, and all that
remains must take much of its colour from the good or
evil of oiu* better days. Strength of manly Christianity
for the time that is coming must have its foundations
laid in the youth of the present time. In this view of
the subject, it is pleasant to consider that we of the
more aged party are the minority, and our number is
lessening very rapidly ; while you, young men, are nu-
merous, a reinforcement fresh and vigorous, ready to
step into our places. May God grant you grace to
wage this warfare more valiantly and successfully than
we have done ! Our best hopes for the Church of the
future, under God, is in what we descry of promise in
young Christians. Unless we depend on miracle and
supematm'al intervention, the progress of rehgion for
the next twenty or thirty years will be according to the
knowledge, piety and ardour of the youthful levies into
our grand anny. And this ought to be a powerful in-
ducement to every ingenuous and public-spirited young
man, whatever may be liis vocation, to aim at a higher
measure of devotion and love, than he has been accus-
tomed to see in his companions.

Consider what kind of Cluistian character and con-
duct must be demanded by the period about to dawn.
Deliberately ask yourselves, is not manly earnestness in
Christ's cause especially reqiured for the times which
are coming upon the eai'th ? " Watch ye," says the

336 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN.

text. It is a word of command, as wlien a guard is
turned out ; the military order to keep awake, because
dangers are imminent and foes are expected. AVatch
YE. It calls the young men of America to mount the
walls and reconnoitre the field. And no one who has
at all kept abreast of the signs of the times can give a
glance toward the future, without starting up aroused
and earnest at the probabilities of trying times and
new emergencies, which will call for stout hearts and
strong hands. The combination of omens during a few
years naturally leads reflective patriots and Christians
to search afi'csh into the prophetic oracles ; and both
Providence and the Word teach us to await a period in
which a robust Christianity shall have all its nerve
brought to the test. Wo to the young man who goes
up to this battle with weak and sickly habit, vrith slen-
der faith and with waning love ! On what side can we
look, without recognising the tokens of approaching
commotion ? We thought, in our simplicity, that wars
were almost obsolete ; but the gathering tread of the ten
thousands in the Tauric peninsula, and the dead by dis-
ease and sword, correct our mistake. The tides of our
own American politics no longer run smooth ; and the
controversies are as novel as they are momentous, so
that we know not even at home what a day may bring
forth. Elements stir in our bosom which may be thrown
out with volcanic eruption on any one of several ques-
tions, domestic and foreign. Then we are not so far
from the old hemisphere as once we were. Directly or

THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 337

indirectly, the present European, or more truly Eastern
war, may, as a remote consequence, involve our own
national peace. Nay, a revolution in remote Asia may
prove very soon to be not merely between Chinese and
Mantchou, or between autocracy and revolt, but be-
tween error and truth, between Behal and Christ, be-
tween persecuting outlawry of missions and the unex-
ampled diflPasion of the Gospel in that vast empire. An
earnest mind will also pray for triple strength and triple
manhood, in considering the fortunes of Rome, and
the probable contest between America and the Pope.
Wars and rumours of wars will possibly be accompanied
or followed, in some lands, by infidel and popish perse-
cutions ; and so the sons of those present will need to
be strong in the Lord and in the power of his might.
Different as our interpretations of prophecy and our
prognostications may be, there is, I suppose, no one
among us, who looks for a quiet time, halcyon days, an
Augustan age of art and letters and gentle luxury, for
our immediate descendants. No prophet am I ; but
when I look intently on my sons, and on you my dear
young parishioners, I seem to myself like one who hears
and sees tokens of a sifting, and a shaking, and a suf-
fering dispensation. " I am pained," cried Jeremiah to
an incredulous people ; " I am pained at my very heart :
my heart maketh a noise in me ; I cannot hold my
peace, because thou hast heard, O my soid, the sound
of the trumpet, the alarm of war ! " And we also, in
the midst of subteiTanean concussions and trumpet
22

338 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN.

calls, think of possible convulsions and trials of fortitude,
and desire for those who come after us a Christianity
in earnest.

Be men, therefore, in knowledge, in faith, in self-de-
nial, in endurance, in effort, in diligence, in perseverance,
in love. Or to comprehend it in a word, " Be ye holy."
That which contributes to your inward piety will secure
your strength. As has been abeady said, no increase
of outward labour, no pragmatical hmTying from toil
to toil, no forwardness of mere act, no almsgiving or
other beneficence, will certainly make you mighty men
of God. All these may exist where grace is low or even
absent. But devoted attention to the Word and prayer
will do it ; faith and vigilance and love will do it ;
communion with a dying Saviour will do it ; the " unc-
tion from the Holy One" will do it. Let me vehe-
mently exhort you to seek a Christian experience
higher, broader and deeper than we, your predecessors
and teachers, have exhibited ; or than you observe in
the religious world around you. For if Christ intends
great blessings for the next age, it is hkely that he will
pour a three-fold anointing on the young men of this.
Happy shall be the Evangelist of that period, a period
thus resembling the primitive and apostolical days, who
shall feel fi'ee to say ; " I write unto you, young men,
because ye have overcome the wicked one ; I have Avrit-
ten unto you, young men, because ye are strong, and the
Word of God abideth in you, and ye have overcome
the wicked one." 1 John ii. 13, 14.

XV.

DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST.
A CHARITY SERMON.

DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST*

Matt. xxv. 37.

"Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we
thee an hungered, and fed thee ? or thirsty, and gave thee drink ?
When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in 1 or naked, and
clothed thee ? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came
unto thee ? "

Out of this divine picture of the groups around the
last Tribunal, let us take a single point, detaching it
from the rest. The modesty, humility, and self-forget-
fulness of the righteous, shall introduce what we have
to say on a matter of great importance. The good
deeds of their life they scarcely recognise as having
been such. They seem to forget that which God re-
members, even their works of mercy. Certainly these
blessed of the Father, brethren of the Son, and heirs of
the Kingdom, do not belong to the class who trumpet

* New York, June 13, 1858.

342 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST.

their alms and rear monuments to their own goodness.
Having done good by stealth, they blush to find it
fame. Christ's applauses surprise them, and at an hour
when the faces of miUions on the left are gathering black-
ness, their cheeks are suffused with ingenuous blushing.
They stand amazed that the Son of Man, now come in
his glory with all the holy angels, should so overwhelm
their trifling services with a glorious reward. Nay,
they can hardly recollect any service at aU. The minis-
tries were so trifling, and were bestowed on objects so in-
considerable, often with such mixture of bad motives,
and such deficiency of good, that it amazes them to
find every transient item legible in the book of the
Judge, now seated upon the throne of his glory. Such
is the representation given by our Lord himself, of the
feelings with which a righteous man will receive the
gracious award.

Now, in parabolic sayings of this kind, no one will
expect exactness of recital, as to the very words uttered
before the throne. It is enough that we catch the great
lessons breathed by the spirit of the passage. Every
true servant saved by grace, will discover " at that day,"
how momentous have been the consequences of acts too
small to be remembered. He will see, that a righteous
man may have been continually putting forth uncon-
scious influence ; may have been ministering to his
Master, when his mind was busied chiefly about his
brethren ; and that, while he sought the gratification of
a benevolent heart, he may have rendered a service

DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 343

honourable and grateful to his Lord. Among the nu-
merous teachmgs, therefore, of this magnificent vision,
one may suffice for the present occasion. It is this :

No ONE CAN ESTIMATE THE AMOUNT OF SERVICE REN-
DERED TO Christ in apparently little things.

To trace this current of good deeds to its source, is
not difficult. Wherever there is regeneration, there is
love to Clu'ist. Wherever love to Christ exists, it pres-
ently shows its fruits, in love to the brethren. The
connexion is pubhcly owned by Him, who, pointing to
the right, says, " These, my bretlu'en." Benevolence,
thus directed, leads to beneficence. True Christians do
"not love in word, neither in tongue, but in deed and
in truth." " Love unfeigned " is perpetually passing
into act, mth regard to every member of Christ who
can be reached. The Lord Jesus vouchsafes to receive
every such benefit rendered to any one of liis people as
conferred upon himseK. And lest there should be a
misgiving on this point, as if our Lord took account
only of favours bestowed on distinguished disciples, he
expressly instances the most inconsiderable. " And the
King (the introduction of which title just here, merits
om' particular notice) shall answer and say unto them.
Verily, I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it
unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have
done it unto me." No act of kindness, even the small-
est, is unobserved or disregarded by our King. He
says in his heart of every such act : " It is done to me."
Yet the passage before us shows, that he who puts

344 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST.

forth this act of bounty or mercy may entkely lose
sight of its terminating on any object greater than the
sufferer whom he reheves ; indeed, even at the moment
of rehef, he may not expUcitly own the reference of the
act to Christ. One may therefore really minister to his
Redeemer, when his soul is chiefly taken up with some
Lazarus at the gate, or some wounded wretch left by
robbers on the road to Jericho. The Master, never-
theless, accounts the deed as done to himself.

That we are to do all things " to the glory of God,"
and " in the name of the Lord Jesus," is fixed in the
minds of all believers, by two remarkable maxims. But
conscientious inquirers sometimes doubt whether any
acts can be justly said to have this quality and inten-
tion, unless there be a distinct view of the Lord, as the
object to whom the service is rendered. Doubtless, a
view thus distinct is good, and much to be desired,
since we cannot too much place our blessed Master be-
fore the mind, as the end of all our actions. At the
same time, the passage which we are considering shows
that, provided we be in a state of grace, we may be
feeding, refi'cshing, lodging and visiting the Son of
God, when, to our own apprehension, we are only com-
forting the hungry, thirsty, homeless, or imprisoned
brother-man. And this is sustaining, in no common
degree, to those who consider the limitations of human
thought, and the small scope of many sincere minds,
which cannot look far beyond what is nearest to them,
especially when they add the cheering truth, that of

DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 34(3

such acts, which Jesus will thus own, there are thou-
sands in the calendar of any one Christian year. In-
deed, in this way, a true follower of Christ fills up his
life. The new nature is continually working its way
outwards, according to the various objects which invite
its flow ; and benevolence, inspired of God, seeks new
ways of communicating happiness, even in the smallest
particulars. Nor are these effluences of the sanctified
nature, in the way of kindly acts, the less Christian,
even if at the moment of performance the happy spirit
does not distinctly think of its being done to Christ
himself. The inward spring is perpetually running,
marking its track by the green margin which it irrigates.
A kind, merciful, unselfish heart is alw^ays looking
around for some one to be the object of its care ; and
love is the same in its kind, when it gives a kingdom,
and when it gives a flower. The clean raiment, gently
laid beside the pauper's bed by the modest hand of a
child, is as honourable in God's sight as the thousands
builded into marble. This internal principle of good-
will, in a soul created anew after the image of the Di-
vine beneficence, acts itself out to all the human species
of whatsoever religion, language, condition, creed, or
colour ; and even makes itself known towards the lower
animals, and all sentient beings. " A righteous man
regardeth the life of his beast ; but the tender mercies
of the wicked are cruel."

We must nevertheless return to the brotherhood,
the members of Christ, as the chosen objects of charity.

346 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST,

affectionate care, and seasonable help. As we have op-
portunity, we do good to all men, but specially to those
who are of the household of faith. The image of our
Lord is in our poor neighbour, and we love it, even
when we are not thinking of the reward which He will
bestow. The very name of Christ, even where the
image is obscured or dim, or not in any way apparent,
goes for something in our esteem. Thus we honour
the supposed signature of a friend, until we discover it
to be forged. In foreign, and especially in unbelieving
lands, the heart thrills towards one who is even nom-
inally a Christian. Suppose we are mistaken ; suppose
we do a kindness to one who is undeserving ; what
then ? Christ is deserving, and we did it in his name.
It is marvellous what conscience some people make of
never giving an alms amiss ; as if it were the greatest of
blunders to confer an irregular kindness on some poor
suffering creature, not so good as they ; as if charity
were the only mode of erroneous outlay ; as if every
superfluity of their Avardrobe, every extravagant bauble
of their ornament, every costly rarity on their board,
did not go to run up an account of perverted steward-
ship, greater in the aggregate than all they ever bestow-
ed with their own hands upon the poor, right or wrong.
If you behold Christ in your supposed brother, you
lionour Christ by the ministry, even if peradventure
you mistake the character of the beneficiary. God
only reads the heart. Those whom we doubt, and
whose profession we discredit, may have been held

DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 347

down by troubles and temptation, and may, in the sight
of the Allseeing, be as worthy as yourselves. If you
are " the children of yoiu- Father which is in heaven,"
you will remember that he maketh his sun to rise on
the evU and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just
and on the unjust.

My hearers, I would not reject from some semblance
of this brotherhood the vilest and worst of the sons of
Adam. Each is a man and a brother. The nature
which the Son of God assumed, in his incarnation, is
their natm'e also. They share in the very humanity
which He took. There is a sense in which He " tasted
death for every man." There is an apphcability of this
death and its piacular fruits to every man. There is a
commandment that the glad news of this love shall be
preached to " all nations " and to " every creature."
There is therefore a unity of the whole species, not only
as the science of the world has demonstrated, in one
parental pair, but in the assumption of their very nature
by our Redeemer. And hence a true and scriptural
philanthropy seeks the happiness of man, as man, and
as claimmg a human kindred with Him whom we love
and adore. While then we are unquestionably bound
to look with peculiar regard on those who are Christ's
inwardly and spiritually, by a vital union, we are no-
where urged to any solicitous inquisition, how good a
sufferer must be before we shall help him for Christ's
sake. And if we should be happy enough to wrest a
poor wretch from shipwreck, jail, or starvation, we do

348 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST.

not suppose our Lord will any the less remember the
tribute, if in the end it should turn out that the person,
far from being a decent church member, was no better
than she who broke the box of aromatics, or she to
whom the Master said, " Go, and sin no more." If we
imitate the divine goodness, let us never forget that
when God's saving mercy comes to us, it always finds
us unworthy. Whenever in the Scriptures we are ex-
horted to acts of beneficence, we are sent to the misera-
ble as miserable ; that is enough. Certification of desert,
especially of godliness, is not presupposed. " Blessed
is he that considereth the poor ; the Lord will deliver him
in time of trouble." Ps. xli. 1. And still more parallel
" He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord
and that which he hath given will he pay him again.'
Prov. xix. 17. Jesus records the loan, and makes re-
muneration, even to him who cries astonished, "When
saw we thee poor and had pity on thee ? "

The veiy striking portion of the language used by
the redeemed which now occupies us, tends directly to
this point : that a servant of Christ may be performing
acts which the Lord accepts as benignantly as if termi-
nating on himself in person, when aU the while the
humble happy servant, though habitually loving Christ,
was unconscious of more than the glow of love and pity
towards a feUow-creature. We do not say that refer-
ence to Jesus, the Chief-beloved, will not dart in, from
time to time, amidst the charities of life, like stray
sunbeams through the network of branches in shady

DAILY SERVICE OP CHRIST. 349

places of the grove ; such is always the heavenward
reference of regenerate souls ; but the rapid and almost
instinctive impulses of Christian kindness often leave no
time to look fully at anything but the famished, weep-
ing, or bleeding sufferer. It will be apparent, upon the
least reflection, that difference in degree or amount, the
more or less of the benefits conferred, makes no differ-
ence in the principle. Do any good, be it great or small,
to a brother of Christ, and you do it to Christ. What
new rays of encouragement are here shed over the
walks of our common hfe, which is made up of seeming
trifles ! It is as if the Lord Jesus had come with his
hallowing presence, into the scenes of oiu* daily occupa-
tion ; to sit beside our well, to tread the planks of our
fishing-boat, to smile on us with remonstrance when
cumbered with much serving. Nothing is small, which
the Master accepts as tribute. Little things become
great, when done in a great cause, and out of loyalty
to a great King. It is not the price, but the homage.
Only a sordid, mercenary, venal mind would prefer the
value of dollars and cents, accumulate the ciphers as
you please, to the value of a ring, a lock of hair, a word
of hearty postscript, an old tear-stained Bible, marked
all through its tattered pages, a smile of love, a dying
kiss. These are life's imponderables, which are also
invaluables. The cup of cold water, in the name of a
disciple, refreshes the soul of the Master and has his
sure reward. The two mites of the widow (less than
the cost of three sparrows) go for more than the thou-

350 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST.

sands of the opulent. The heart is all. The giver
stamps the gift, and the intention defines the giver.
So hkewise in regard to the person benefited; little
things, we may say again, become great, when done in
behalf of Christ's "Httle ones." And these are con-
tinually about us. The poor we have always with us ;
and God hath chosen the poor rich in faith. Ostenta-
tious charities, of great figures, performed by proxy,
should never take the place of personal kindnesses,
though known only to God and the recipient.

Life is so ordered in providence, that what we call
great deeds occur only now and then. Even princes
and conquerors cannot be always magnificent. Espe-
cially we, who are not distinguished, must find our
occasions of obedience in the shop, the farm, the school,
the kitchen, the office, the ship, the family. If we are
not doing good here; if a barren sentimentahty be-
guiles us into dreaming of some futm'e, romantic, con-
spicuous service ; if we pass by the sister, the servant,
the alms-person that rings timidly at our gate, or the
errand-boy who brings supphes, while we plan beautiful
schemes of distant and collective good ; we are not the
persons whom Jesus means. Common life, in its hum-
blest domestic flow, is full of opportimities for honouring
our Lord. You can scarcely make a single turn within
the circle of home and daily work, without finding occa-
sion to act out some inward principle of divine benevo-
lence. " One of the least of these" Christ's " brethren,'*
may sit beside your hearth, in the person of some pa-

DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 35 J

rent, grandparent, or widowed relative. Christ may
expostnlate with you, for your neglect of some kinsman
who is " waxen poor," and whom with coldness and
pride you abandon to the tender mercies of strangers.
" If any provide not for his own, and especially for those
of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse
than an infidel." Acts of mercy towards those who are
daily meeting us in the unromantic paths of ordinary
intercourse, fall properly under the head of ministries to
the Lord. A true Christian will endeavour to enhven
every particidar of service to feUow-creatures with this
consecrating intention. This spirit of love will give
verdure and fragrance to performances otherwise with-
ered and repidsive. Thus, for example, the home du-
ties of Woman, restrained as she is from publicity and
the guidance of aflFairs, may be woven into a blessed
tissue of service, often unconscious, to Christ Jesus the
Lord. Charity will not house itself, we admit, nor
selfishly shut out thoughts of suff*erers abroad. But we
always discover that those who are permanently and
consistently most useful abroad, are those who have
first proved themselves most faithful in charities at
home. And, whether at home or abroad, the great
majority of mankind must expect their usefidness, in
other words their work for Christ, to consist in a series
of familiar and oft-recurring acts, each apparently in-
considerable by itself.

" 'Tis a little thing
To give a cup of water ; yet its draught

352 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST.

Of cool refreshrrent drained by fevered lips

May give a stock of pleasure to the frame,

More exquisite than when nectarean juice

Renews the life of joy in happiest hours.

It is a little thing to speak a phrase

Of common comfort which, by daily use,

Has almost lost its sense ; yet on the ear

Of him who thought to die unmourned, 'twill fall

Like choicest music." *

How blessed a service ! how munificent a Master ! By
this ubiquity in his suffering brethren, he is always
present wherever a generous office can be performed.
And let us not forget the very acts of mercy, the par-
ticular charities wrought by the righteous, and remem-
bered by the King, charities confined to no age or na-
tion, but practicable in whatsoever spot we encounter
famine, parching thirst, exile, nakedness, disease, or
bondage. Let us go in quest of Jesus, among the
half-starved occupants of the tall, overcrowded tenant-
house, where the restoring beverage, so familiar to our
tables, never courts the taste of the scorched and hectic
pauper ; or sick-beds, where the foreigner and emigrant
pants for breath in summer and shivers in winter ; or,
most neglected of all, in the prison-house, abode at once
of shame, vice, ignorance and woe. AU these, and such
as these, all forms of misery, begotten of sin, and
swarming most opprobriously in cities, under the very
eaves of Christian wealth and lofty fashion, cry to us in

* Lord Talfourd.

DAILY SERVICE OP CHRIST. 353

the name not merely of humanity, but of our Lord.
Every system of means which offers access to these
representatives of our Master, and affords ways of serv-
ing him, should be honoured and upheld. But we
should not allow individual effort to be swallowed up by
great organizations. The machinery which intervenes
between us and the Saviour, to whom we would minis-
ter in his poor members, is an evil, even if a necessary
evil. Association, subscription, collection, stated agency,
beneficent proxies, these are indispensable ; but observe
for what reason. They carry the alms of him who is
too weak, too busy, or too old, to go always in person ;
they divide and methodize the work, so that no part
may be overlooked, and no part over-served ; and they
cause a few, trained and practised, to do the work of
many. But, after all, those organizations are best,
which, whUe they secm-e these objects, assign most of
their task of visitation and aid to free-vdll agents, and
so increase rather than lessen the amount of individual
charity. The Sunday School is one, and only one, of a
class which somewhat realizes these ideas. When con-
verts in large numbers are brought into the church, and
with the impulse of new love look around for a way to
do good, every one knows that the instrument which
first and naturally presents itself is the Sunday School.
The day is coming, when we shall have many others,
equally aiming at the rescue of fallen humanity. At
present, this form of charitable organization carries in
its train much more than scriptural instruction on the
23

354 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST.

Lord's day ; for Sunday School teachers are more and
more Bible readers and Tract distributors in alleys and
attics ; Good Samaritans by the way, to pour oil and
wine into hearts wounded by intemperance and unbeHef ;
visitors of infirmaries, ships, and prisons ; exhorters and
reprovers of sin at wharfs and ferries ; seekers for the
sick poor, up and down the vast dimensions of om' me-
tropolitan misery. If you would find the thousands
who do this work, while you sit on your luxurious sofas,
and criticise the indiscreet outlay of public charities,
you must look to the teachers in Sunday Schools. In
my judgment the ehte of beneficent and therefore happy
Christians in America is in the Sunday School ranks.
And though after aU these weary days and anxious
nights, some of them may exclaim, " When, 0 Master,
saw we thee in distress and ministered unto thee," they
will not fail of their reward. As a means of bringing
out the latent and diversified talent of a congregation,
the Sunday School is at present above all others. But
the time is not distant when, under the influence of
fruitful awakenings and the pressure of increasing love
for Christ, the principle now very much confined to
Sunday Schools wiU, by a happy extension, be reahzed
in sister organizations, so diversified as to detect and
employ in appropriate ministry every lurking talent of
the brotherhood. While, however, we are awaiting a
period when the inward energies of the Church shall be
called out with more equable and universal effect, let
each of us, in his own post, be living for Christ. We

DAILY SERVICE OP CHRIST. 355

have nothing that we have not received ; let there be
nothing held back from the Lord. We serve a forbear-
ing and munificent King, who, though he needs none
of us, vouchsafes to treat our poor doings as if he were
the party obHged. What a contemptible tribute is the
fullest obedience of our best day, considered in itself !
If we had " done all those things'' which are enjoined,
we ought still to say, " We are unprofitable servants ;
we have done that wliich was our duty to do." It was
" duty," dues to be rendered, what we ought ; we owed
it; matter of debt. But mark how he receives it,
how he gathers up the bruised, withered, scattered
flowers which seemed dying in our hands, and makes
of them a garland ; binds them on his brow as a dia-
dem ; points to them before his angels as an honour.
The self-condemning disciple sees no beauty or worthi-
ness but in his prince. Conscious of short-coming, he
hears the plaudit, and looks around among the right-
hand myriads in quest of him whom it may befit. Not
me, assuredly. " When saw / thee, in sorrow, and
ministered to thee ! " Yes, thee, blushing saint — thee;
the Master's eye seeketh thee. The moment has ar-
rived for discoveries, and while the wicked is hor-
ror-struck with the fiery record of his secret sins, the
" Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin," read by the universe
in those asbestos leaves, the child of God is amazed to
find that every kindness to a little one is tabled, owned
and rewarded ; " good measure, pressed down and
shaken together." The secret chanty has become pub-

356 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST.

Kg ; according to that word, " there is nothing covered
that shall not be revealed, neither hid that shall not be
known ; " which ought to teach us that every thing in
the nature of service to Christ, has a certain greatness.
I deplore from the bottom of my soul the disposition of
some Protestants to undervalue and carp at acts of
mercy to the poor, the sick, or the dying, because Ro-
manists have made much of them. God forbid that
neglect of Christ's poor should ever be a characteristic
of Reform ! God be thanked, that true Protestantism
has always walked in the steps of that Catholic charity
which is older than popes and monkery. If a Good
Samaritan do a deed of mercy, let no meanness or in-
ward sense of dehnquency lead you to scowl at it.
" Go thou and do hkewise ; " go and do better. To
take a single instance ; the great difficulties which pri-
vate families, however wealthy, sometimes experience,
in getting nm-ses for sudden emergencies of illness,
ought to make us all exclaim, " How must it be with
the poor ! " and to concert measures for training Chris-
tian attendants for the sick ; a service which has no
more necessary connexion with Popery, than has the
binding up of a bleeding wayfarer's wounds. Por one,
I will take the hberty of loving and applauding the act
of mercy to a sufferer, by whomsoever performed ; and
this without groping into those hidden motives which
can be read by God only. " The day shall declare it."
It shall declare thy feeblest, most faltering deed. O,
Christian woman ! 0, httle child ! Here is the principle

DAILY SERVICE OF CHEIST. 357

to preserve us from deeming anything little. The kind
word, gesture, look, to a mother or a brother — some
withhold these who are very pubhc with good deeds to
strangers — shall be owned as unto Christ. 0, what a
Master ! Who will not love him and serve him ! Let
me close wdth the words of Bishop Andrewes : " There
is glory which shall be revealed ; for when the Judge
Cometh, some shaU see thy face cheerful, and shall be
placed on the right, and shall hear those most welcome
words, ' Come ye blessed/ They shaU be caught up
in clouds to meet the Lord ; they shall enter into glad-
ness, they shall enjoy the sight of Him, they shall be
even vnth. Him. These alone, only these, are blessed
among the sons of men. 0, to me the meanest grant,
the meanest place, there under their feet ; under the
feet of thine elect, the meanest among them ! "

XVI.

H I B T H.

MIRTH.*

PE0VKEB3 xvii. 22.

"A merry heart doeth good like a medicine."

In reading our admirable version of the Holy
Scriptures, a little scholarsliip and a little knowledge
of antiquity are useful, in order that we may not put
modem and degraded meanings on terms which are
grave and venerable. If we consult the Anglo-Saxon
roots, or even the father of Enghsh poetry, we shall see
at once how this appUes to the words mirth and merry.
If in modern parlance we distinguish between cheerful-
ness and mirth, ascribing to the latter a more giddy,
unseasonable and vociferous effusion of hilarity, we shall
lose the entire force of oiu* text and other passages.
Mirth, in good old English, included even the graver
kinds of cheerfulness. The old Psalter praises God
* New York, Februar7 28, 1858.

362 MIRTH.

with " awful mirth ;" both words being such as have
suffered deflection. And the adage of Solomon is
cleared by the exhortation of the Apostle James : "Is
any merry, let him sing psalms.'* A merry heart is
therefore precisely a cheerful heart ; and that it " doeth
good like a medicine," is one of those truths which
every one of us, my brethren, has found tnie, blessed
be God, in his own experience. In the course of re-
mark on a somewhat unusual topic, which however is
given me by inspiration itself, I shall endeavour to
bring forward some truths respecting the nature and
results of true cheerfulness, and the best way of seek-
ing this heahng influence. If the termination of the
discourse should be unhke its beginning, let us pray
that it may not leave any the less of salutary impression
on the heart. Cheeefulness is a symptom of inward
health, as truly as bodily alertness is of outward health.
In regard, however, to mind as well as body, the symp-
tom may itself become a remedial agent ; the effect
may in its turn act the part of a cause. For example,
a sound appetite, which is a sign of vigour, may itself
tend to the production of further vigour. And so, true
cheerfulness, springing from mental health, may fall
into a chain of causes, promoting yet greater health.
You are therefore invited to consider the means of pro-
moting that genuine Cheerfulness, or Mirth in old Eng-
lish, which doeth good like a medicine.

I. The primary truth in this part of the philosophy
of life, is that true Cheerfulness is a concern both of

MIRTH. 3^3

body and mind. The junction of the immaterial with
the material part in our nature is not like the annexa-
tion of two alien substances by a tie. Unhke as are
body and soul, they were made for one another, and
never in their normal condition to exist apart. If sun-
dered for a little, it is that they may be rejoined. They
are united in every part. Body acts on soul, and soul
acts on body. This indeed was denied by one of the
most ingenious philosophers that ever lived, the great
Leibnitz, who taught that mind cannot influence matter
nor matter mind ; but that the Creator had made the
two, like instruments tuned together from eternity, al-
ways parallel in action, each responding to the other,
yet with no mutual agency. No one now beheves in a
hypothesis so ingeniously perverse. Sense and con-
sciousness testify to us every moment that body acts on
mind and mind on body ; and in nothing is this recip-
rocal agency more undeniable than in health and dis-
ease. A sickly body sours, or saddens, or inflames the
mind: a mind on the rack attenuates, wrinkles and
enfeebles the body. The old theory of animal spu-its
still colours the language of common life, even when
physiology rejects the notion of these subtile substances
running up and down the system. But all hypotheses
apart, who knows not that what we call good spirits
quicken the pulses and clothe the frame with flesh, while
fasting, loss of functional power, or injury to the organs,
engender melancholy ? In the large and proper ac-
ceptation of the term, we include the well-being of body

364 ^i^"^^-

and soul together, when we use the word health. He
is not healthy, though with a frame of iron, who has
moody flights and delirious fancies. How delicate was
the adjustment, how perfect the temperament of the
parts, when the father of our race was created and
placed in Eden ! Body and soul were twin portions of
a wonderful contexture which worked sweetly and with-
out a jar. Marvellous will be the change in the coming
state, when these vile bodies shall be fashioned hke
" unto Christ's glorious body ;" from the resurrection
to go on without hinderance, in union with correspond-
ing souls, to a glory never known in Paradise. The
nearest approach we can ever have to this state, in the
present life, is where the mens sana in corpore sano pos-
sesses health and strength. Of such a condition true
Cheerfulness is the accompaniment and indication.
This we may maintain without running into absurdi-
ties like those who talk about disease being a crime, and
who would send aU mental and moral ailments to the
shop of the materialist for rehef. The attempt to serve
God and our neighbour with a broken constitution or
a drooping mind, as many here have learnt by expe-
rience, is liable to great disappointment. As we would
not undertake a friend's business with a beast of bur-
den which was lame, so we should be loath to bring to
the work of the Lord a body which drags heavily at
every step. Yet sometimes God himself so plainly
lays the trial upon us, weakening our strength by the
way, as in the case of Hezekiah or Trophimus, that our

MIRTH.

365

lesson becomes that of resignation, patience, and quiet
hope. Even then, it is our duty to use means for re-
covery. Even then, one of these means is that cheer-
fulness of heart which doeth good hke a medicine, and
without which all the materia medica might be exhibit-
ed in vain" Let those who enjoy health and hilarity,
acknowledge dependance, and consider from whom the
blessing comes. As there is a pride of family, of beau-
ty, of riches, so there is a pride of health ; and some of
the most signal and admonitory reverses we have ever
known, have befallen famihes and individuals whose
habit it was to vamit that they owed nothing to the
physician. Every day, if possible, every horn*, let us
give thanks that our health has had no inteiTuption ;
or, that it has continued long ; or, after illness and de-
cay, that it has been restored. " It is of the Lord's
mercy that we are not consumed, and because his com-
passions fail not." That balance of the faculties, men-
tal and bodily, which causes each and all together to
work to the greatest advantage, manifests itself by a
natm'al lightness of temper and clear animation of spir-
its, which is most remarkable in youth, but which we
sometimes observe even in the autumnal days of a beau-
tiful old age. It is the greatest of all blessings to the
body; but at the same time it is a blessing which
nothing bodily has power to confer. And, therefore,
we m\yA look higher.

XL Inasmuch as the soul has the prerogative of gov-
erning ^he body, there are numerous happy cases, in

366 «iR™.

which there is a cheerful heart in a suffering and sickly
frame. In every such instance the inward principle
doeth good Uke a medicine. Many a patient had per-
ished years ago, but for the fortifying, sustaining, and
even curative power of a happy heart. Conflict there
may be — ^there must be — because the effect of most
bodily maladies, pains, and injuries is to subdue the
mind ; but where the intellectual and moral strength is
paramount, we have beheld even tortures made tolera-
ble, and feebleness of lungs or limbs set aside by the
internal power. No matter how exceptional such in-
stances are, they are sufficient to prove, how really inde-
pendent of external circumstances an immortal soul
may become ; to refute the fallacy, that because the
soul acts through organized matter, there is no longer
any soul after dissolution ; and to induce us aU, in
times of health and strength, to acquire those habits of
mind and heart that may stand us in stead, when we
come to the enfeeblmg trials of age or illness. Where
cheerfulness survives, after the departure of health or
bodily ease, we shall usually observe one or more of the
following causes to be present.

First. Something in the nature of the malady or
distress which does not spend its power on the mental
part. " The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but
a wounded spirit, who can bear ? " Some diseases make
a speedy and direct assault upon the nervous system,
including its great origin, the brain. Some, especially
in acute cases, so fill the frame with vexation, annoy-

MIRTH.

367

ance, or even anguish, as to leave no freedom for thought
or possibility of peace. But others, and these the most
numerous, though often severe and sometimes fatal,
make no advance to the mind's citadel, and so leave
reason in its supremacy. But this is not enough.
Hence,

Secondly. Cheerfalness in suffering may be due to
natural elevation of spirits. Constitution, education,
companionship, employment, opinions, customs of Hving,
these are mighty confluent streams which go to form a
river of habit, good or evO, in respect of cheerfulness ;
which habit is too powerful to be turned aside by any
ordinary contingencies of disappointment, pain, or weak-
ness. Those whose profession leads them to be much
in sick rooms are famihar with instances of this, which,
to the inexperienced, would seem fabulous.

Thirdly. The only source of genuine cheerftdness on
the bed of sickness and death is the grace of God in
the sold. But we have tarried long enough beside the
chair of the invalid. May God grant to all such the
cordial of inward heavenly joy ! A third consideration,
applicable to every individual in this assembly, and
founded on laws of nature, awaits our notice.

III. Since both soul and body are made for exer-
tion, there is notliing more conducive to cheerfulness,
the result of their joint health, than fit employment.
A house bereft of tenants goes to decay. A vehicle
laid up without use rusts and moulders. A fine piece
of machinery is never so safe, as when lubricated and

368 MIRTH.

moving. Body and soul, made for perpetual activity,
must work, and work together, in order to be in good
condition. Of all engines, the human body is the most
amazing. From the days of Socrates, as reported by
Xenophon, philosophy has been studying the mechanics,
the chemistry, the vital forces, the adaptations, the final
causes of this structure, so fearfully, so wonderfully
made. There is no step forward, to new principles in
physics, in optics, in the growth of structures, which
does not find itself anticipated by some marvellous
realization of its idea in the human body. Considered
as a working engine, there is none which works so
cheaply, with so little waste, and so long, or which con-
tains such provision for its own repair. How every
survey of the skilful mechanism shows that it was made
to move. Its central, propelling engine never stops,
except in cases which cause instant dread of death.
Heart, lungs, and brain, play on through all the thou-
sand nights of sleep. An instinct of nature prompts
the young to be in almost perpetual motion. Absolute
rest there is none. And if, fi:om necessity or choice,
any approach to immobihty becomes the habitude of
body, as is the case in some sluggish and morbid na-
tures, the result is lethargy and endless disturbance of
the vital functions. This frame was made for labour.

Equally true is this of the yet more subtle, because
spiritual part. The soul is essentially active. Of a
luind that does not think, no man can frame a notion.
The human mind is made to be active. It is inquiring,

MIRTH.

369

and athirst for knowledge. Its active powers irresistibly
seek for some object on which to exert themselves.
Healthful, moderate repose, chiefly by change of em-
ployment, is good; but entire, continual, unbroken
quiescence is misery. Never was there a more dire
mistake than that of men who abandon the honest and
useful business of life, under the pretext of rest. Unless
they have singular resources, in science, literatiu'e, or
philanthropy, they sink into hebetude, weary of the
everlasting hohday, let their heart corrode with sullen
thoughts, and sometimes fall a prey to evil babits oi
premature dotage. Philosophy, no less than Religion,
enjoins — unless where invincible necessities from in-
firmity or age clearly speak another language — that we
should live working, and die in the harness. Hence
the value of a trade or calling, and of workhig at it.
I believe it lengthens life. I believe it staves off tribes
of maladies and conceits. I am sure it promotes that
spring and elation of soul, without which life is a long
disease. If you would find the most wretched man or
woman in your neighbourhood, look for the one who
has nothing to do. Unless allowed to prescribe em-
ployment, even the best physician cannot cure the vale-
tudinaiy complainer. Por after all has been said,
employment begets cheerfulness ; and " a merry heart
doeth good like a medicine."

IV. But man is not merely an intellectual, he is a
moral being, and hence healthful cheerfulness requires
as its indispensable condition a good conscience. To
24

370 MIRTH.

be truly happy in mind, the soul must be at harmony
mth itself. I know the objection that you are framing
in your thoughts, and I will dispose of it at the outset.
You are thinking of numerous persons known to you,
who are immoral, and yet intensely and extravagantly
mirthful ; you have even known flagitious sinners, who
were proverbial for laughter and good cheer. You
recall to mind the thousands who haunt every place of
amusement, and whose habits go to sustain the dens of
boisterous wassail. Now, on a calm and serious view
of the case, leaving rehgion out of the question, you
will scarcely choose this species of hilarity as that which
you would wish for a beloved son. It is scarcely such
as will endure for a hfetime, or gild the declining hours.
You have probably seen enough of society to know
that much of this ostentatious mirth is pm'ely factitious,
made up of the sympathies and contagion of good-
fellowship and wine. Nay, you must be young as an
observer, if you have not found that your meriy friend
indulges in a certain feigning. He is not so merry as
he would have you believe. The wreathed smiles of his
artificial visage partake of grimace. He is more smiling
when met than when overtaken ; more full of jest with
strangers than at home ; loud in company, stupid by
himself; in a word, bidding fair for an old age of stupor,
gluttony, or diink. You know perfectly well, that if
youth be left out of the account, the people who run
after public amusements are precisely those who cannot
enjoy solitude, and who have never learned to endure

MIRTH. 371

themselves. 0, that some of those, who recognise their
own face in this Hkeness, would lay to heai't the truth
that their conscience is diseased!

1. Conscience of crime is a tormentor. There is
scarcely a Gentile sage or poet who has not said so, in
description and example, for it needs no inspiration to
reveal how this scorpion of the bosom can sting. The
cases are so horrible, where habitual and repeated sin
has reached the point of silencing and palsying con-
science, that it is hard to say what may be the temper
of a soul which has passed under this cauteiy ; but who
among us would seek such a callous heart as the abode
of cheerfulness ? Of aU passions none breathes more of
the atmosphere of hell, than remorse. This ought to
gain the attention even of those who have as yet been
kept back fi'om presumptuous sins ; because no one
ever became suddenly vile, and they know not what
may be the end of the way upon which they have
entered, or whether their closing scene may not be
maddened by despair.

2. Far, veiy far on this side of atrocious crimes,
there may be such continuance in transgression, as may
embitter the conscience, and makeijtiiet joy impossible.
This case may be well studied by the young man or
young woman, who, after a reUgious education, has re-
strained prayer, neglected the Scriptures, stifled convic-
tions, and gone into the world for happiness. There is
a conscious dissatisfaction mider aU the gayety. The
day of pleasm-e is often followed by a night of disquie-

372 MIRTH.

tude. The intervals between one and another of those
nocturnal assemblies which quench forever the religious
emotions of many, are dull and pensive. The very face
of the maiden, who ought to be rosy, jocund, and alert,
is " sicklied o'er with a pale cast of thought." Some-
thing is wrong. The pride of the house is wretched.
Summer tours and winter dissipations, such as modem
piety may approve, fail to restore the elasticity of a
once healthful creature. The unwelcome truth is, the
immortal spirit wiU not brook the treatment of such
charlatanry. The soul craves its pecuhar and appro-
priate food and refreshment. The immaterial and
aspiring nature sighs for God. And how can it be
cheerful ?

More of the world's sadness and gloom than the
world chooses to reveal, is caused by hearts ill at ease,
and consciences disquieted with sin. There are persons
who for years drag about a body wasted by the rest-
less, consuming mind. While worldlings charge re-
ligious people with gloom, they are themselves often
kept in misery by their want of Christian peace. It
requires no godliness to make one suffer from con-
science. Natural principles, among all nations, suffice
for this. Conscience utters the voice of law, or expos-
tulation, of remonstrance, sometimes of menace, of
retribution, of vengeance. It is for relief from such
pangs that the troubled, aching soul goes to the Gospel.
But thither the deluded follower of pleasure or gain can-
not bring himself to go. And tiU he goes, all his mirth

MIRTH. 373

and gayety are illegitimate and irrational, even if they
are not simulated and hollow. Thousands walk our
streets and flaunt in our assemblies, wearing the garb
and the smirk of an assumed and conventional hilarity,
who would sink to the earth, like the child's top, the
instant they should cease to whirl. If they durst sit
still long enough to feel the pulses, they would know
that they are sick at heart. They have forsaken the
fountain of living water, and have hewed them out
cisterns, broken cisterns, which can hold no water.
Amidst much forced merriment, they are utterly void
of all that vernal cheerfulness which is as characteristic
of a well-regulated sound religion, as sweet flowers are
of Spring. And the tendency is fi'om bad to worse.

3. Even in the ordinary narrow acceptation of the
term in the world's idiom, a good conscience promotes
ease of mind. It smooths the pillow. It removes
acerbity from the tone, in hours of business. It recon-
ciles the father to his family group, and the son and
daughter to their home. But, in order to clear away
clouds, calm the sullen swell of the mysterious ocean
within, and throw sunshine over the late darkened
countenance, there is need of something more deter-
minately gracious. Simple social morahty, honoiu*
in trade, truth, candour, hospitaUty, neighbourly kind-
ness, domestic affiection — all beautiful, aU good, on a
lower scale of value — ^have no adequacy as answering a
holy spiritual law, and therefore no power to pacify an
enlightened conscience. Though a sinner may be either

374 MIRTH.

exorbitantly gay or deeply stupid in his sins, he cannot
feel these sins and be cheerful. Here I touch the sen-
sitive spot that denotes the disease. No transgressor
against an infinitely holy God can have healthful men-
tal enjoyment, such as does good to soul and body,
while he is vexed with the conviction of his heinous
guilt. And the point to be observed is, that no sinner
can infallibly prevent such conviction and such distress.
In this respect, as in others, the soul that forsakes God
remains still in the hands of God. It is not for him to
say when he shall be disquieted for his sins, how long
this disquietude shall last, or to what extreme of tor-
ment it may rise.

In a Cluistian land hke ours, many a heart, wrung
with agonizing reflections, never reveals itself to the
ear and heart of human friendship ; and ah ! cannot,
wlU not, reveal itself to the ear and heart of a compas-
sionate God, in the outpourings of confidential prayer.
Nothing is more wide-spread than uncomfortable feel-
ings with regard to religious deficiency, which are strong
enough to kiU cheerfulness, but not so expHcit and de-
veloped as to lead to decision. Yet such vague trouble
of mind is often the precursor of salvation. False
peace, it is true, sometimes comes in ; introduced by
erroneous doctrine, self-righteous satisfaction, or spuri-
ous exercises accepted as graces of the Spirit. But even
this fails, either by want of permanency, or by leaving
the heart still unblest with the radiance of a serene joy.
To walk on earth with the erect countenance of Chris-

MIRTH.

375

tian cheerfulness, there must be peace with conscience
and peace with God.

4. There is no such thing as a good conscience,
except where there is a persuasion of acceptance with
God, through the mediation of the Lord Jesus Christ.
This persuasion causes the face to shine as did the face
of Moses when he came down from converse with God
upon the Mount. Here is an irradiation which makes
the soul lift itself in holy cheerfulness, just as the sun
in May makes the violet and the rose unfold their
leaves with freshness of beauty. " Wisdom maketh a
man's face to shine." And of this heavenly msdom or
spiritual knowledge and service of God, the wise man
says : " So shall they be hfe unto thy soul, and grace to
thy neck ; when thou liest down, thou shalt not be
afraid, yea, thou shalt He down and thy sleep shall be
sweet." Prov. iii. 22, 24.

It is proper just here to observe, in order to meet a
difficulty of candidly inquiring minds, that the earhest
exercises of penitent, returning minds are not always
joyful. There may be bitterness beneath the soil and
in the knotty trunk, when the clusters and fruitage
above are dropping with sweetness; or, as convales-
cence from sore disease is sometimes preceded by a
fearful crisis, so the first transition from worldliness to
serious thoughts of God and heavenly things is com-
monly marked by alarm, humiliation, and grief. The
anxious seeker's path circles the Old Testament Sinai,
often many times, before it strikes off thitherward to-

376 MIRTH.

ward Mount Zion, and opens yonder at the Cross. But
when it leads the wayfaring soul to " Jesus the Medi-
ator of the New Covenant, and to the blood of sprin-
kling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel,"
it presents to him a region of springtide joy fulness.
There may be weeping clouds, there may be alter-
nations like returning winter, but stUl the Sun of
Righteousness is there. It is a Beulah, a land of cheer-
fulness ; such cheerfulness as even does the body good,
and drives the crimson tides with new impulses of life
to members lately collapsed and chill. Are any notes
of gladness more ravishing than those which the convert
hears, amidst these green pastures beside these still
waters ? Listen to what issues from the mouth of a glo-
rious and beloved Friend, till now unknown ; hearken !
"Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For
lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone ; the
flowers appear on the earth ; the time of the singing of
birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in
our land. The fig-tree putteth forth her green figs,
and the vines with the tender grape give fragrance.
Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away." Song,
ii. 10-13. When Jesus speaks pardon and love to the
soul, he gives cheerfidness and joy. At no epoch is this
so strikingly felt, by reason of contrast, in passing from
ail anxious into a rejoicing state, as at first believing,
the love of espousals. But I am so far from thinking
these to be the highest raptures of religion, that my
persuasion is firm and daily increasing, of "the mar-

MIRTH. 377

vellous loving-kindness " of God, to his unworthy but
redeemed people, in the latter stages of theii' journey,
even to the very last. To every true convert Jesus
seems to say " BeUevest thou ? thou shalt see greater
thmgs than these ! " When, therefore, we invite such
as are the prey of unhealthy anxieties to try the effects
of the grand restorative, we invite them, not to sighs
and tears, not to manifold austerities of service, not to
a forsaking of all their present solace mthout hope of
indemnity, but to a peace of God which passeth all
understanding, and a reasonable ground of habitual
cheerfulness, on which, as on a tried foundation, they
may (to say the very least) rest more securely than on
any support sought or conceived of by the soul of man.
Directly or indirectly, you are constantly seeking some
tranquiUity of soul, some rest for the immortal spirit,
some slaking of the insatiable thirst. You struggle for
it, as the tendrils of the vine wring their way in tenta-
tive movement towards the light ; you turn towards it
as the crushed worm under your feet wiithes in search
of ease. Out of rehgion, out of propitiation, out of the
Lord Jesus Christ, you will never find it. You will,
like those fifty fabled daughters of Danaus in the classic
story, spend life, pom'ing water into vessels pierced
like sieves ; or, more heavily rolling the mighty stone
up the arduous mountain, that at each remove it may
again turn upon you with thundering bound. And
when you have tried all that worldly mirth can do, you

378 MIRTH.

will saywith the repentant king, " I said in mine heart,
Go to now, I will prove thee with mii'th, therefore enjoy
pleasure; and behold this also is vanity. I said of
laughter, it is mad, and of mirth, what doeth it ? "
Ecc. ii. 1, 2.

XVII.

BELIEVERS AEE WITNESSES.

BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES.*

Isaiah xliii. 10.
"Ye are my witnesses, saith the Lord."

Christianity, as being from God, the sovereign
Ruler of the Universe, asks no patronage from the
great of this world. Learning, rank, opulence and
power, which have weight elsewhere, are as nothing
here. As if to show this in the strongest possible
manner, God chose to establish his Church of the new
dispensation in absolute neglect of all such auxiharies.
He might have gained over the sagest of the Porch,
the Academy, or the Lyceum, the professors of Tarsus
and Alexandria, or the rabbins of Tiberias. He might
have arrayed his evangelists in imperial purple, and
heralded his gospel by lictors and sound of trumpet.

* New York, June 20, 1858.

382 BELIEVERS ARE WITxNESSES.

He miglit liave caused princely armies to trample down
opposing nations ; " But God hath chosen the foolish
things of the world to confoimd the wise, and the weak
things of the world to confound the things which are
mighty ; and base things of the world and things
which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things
which are not, to bring to nought things that are, that
no flesh should glory in his presence." And hence,
even when, in the progress of ages, the Church has
subsidized many of these very influences, she has re-
ceived them as followers, and never yielded them
homage. Christianity has now so entrenched itself
within the science, the letters, the public institutions,
and the kindly afiections of mankind, that it looks with
a benignant pity on mistaken creatures, who conde-
scendingly talk as if evangelical truth, by their good
leave, was not so bad a thing, and as if, with a hberal
construction and some reseiTcs, the Bible might, after
all, be received even by liberal thinkers. The decayed
Hidalgo, who stalks proudly in rags which his ancestral
cloak scarcely hides, is not more ridiculous in his pride.
Nay, the king who emerges from the straw of Bedlam,
bowing as he yields sufferance and admission to his
keepers, is quite as rational in his supercilious com-
placency. After a thousand battle-fields, amidst innu-
merable trophies, Revelation sits as a queen. Prom
every nation and in every dialect, the wise and great
flock to do her homage. The banks of the Nile and
the Tigris, the monuments of Judea and the catacombs

BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 333

of Rome continually augment the glorious accumulation
of their evidence. The scholarship and philosophy of
the world are on the side of the Cross. And yet, over
against our host of confessors, our Bacons, Pascals,
Newtons, Henrys and Owens, we descry puny figures
coming forward to lend the shelter and countenance of
theii- insignificant pennon ! And who, forsooth, are
they, that the " Vii-gin daughter of Zion" should ask, or
even brook their aid ? By what names are these called,
who are thus eager to inform us of their tolerance of
Jesus, and their good opinion of the Lord of hosts?
Peradventm-e some sciohst, undisciphned in any one
severe science, undrilled in any ancient tongue, unfa-
mihar even with the books of Scripture, but pert and
voluble at counters, tables, clubs and drawing-rooms,
and admired in his flippant cavil by groups more
ignorant than himself. Or, it may be, some narrow
pedant, aU behind the age, who has dozed in the cave
of the Seven Sleepers, while the world has been rolling
on, and who in his simplicity is ignorant that the mate-
rialism and philosophism of Voltaii'e, D'Alembert, Vol'
ney and Diderot, are just as vahd, even with decent
infidels, as alchemy, magic, or the humoral pathology.
Who cares (except in commiseration for his foolish soul)
what such a one thinks of Christianity ? Or the voice
of complaisance toward om' holy religion may issue from
some back-shop or foul attic, where, among licentious
verse and graphic abomination, the thumbed and
smutched volumes, redolent of Birmingham or the

384 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES.

collieries, bear the grosser names of Paine, Carlisle, or
Holyoake. This is generally emigrant deism, and its
converts among us are fished up from the filthiest pools,
where drink and unthrift lie alongside of brutal igno-
rance or incorrigible stupidity. Shall I add to the Hst
those apostates from Christianity, who, though bred in
evangelical churches, never felt the power of grace,
smarted under correction of their secret sins, found it
their interest to prove that the murderer and the demon
should be happy in heaven, kicked at the goads of re-
proof and overleaped the fence of mystery ; the renegade
Christians, who have betaken themselves to a scheme as
much Mohammedan as Christian, to a Scripture with-
out infallible truth, to a Cross without expiation, to a
salvation without Christ ? From any, from all of these,
we reject the profier of ostentatious aid. We would
gladly give them of our stores ; but save us from their
patronage ! Not by such attestation is heavenly Wisdom
justified.

There is something like pusillanimity in the warmth
with which certain professors of Christianity chuckle over
every little good word doled forth in its behalf by men
who scarcely know its tenets, and live in defiance of its
commands ; while the same weak friends of the cause
overlook the testimony of millions, who have best known
the reality of reHgion because they experienced it, and
have yielded the strongest attestation by adhering to
the faith. Infidelity shows no such throng of behevers,
confessors, dying saints and martyrs, as, with perpetual

BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 335

augmentation, have been avowing, age after age, the
power of grace. These, these are the witnesses. When,
with nervous trepidation, distrustful of your own cause,
you betake you to the others, and pick up the paltry
concessions of deists and heretics, it is as if you should
call in a chance New Zealander or Esquimaux, who had
descried the distant smoke of a propeller on his waste
seas, to gain his testimony concerning the existence and
value of a steam navigation which fills our harbour.
Let them testify of what they know ; of our heavenly
Wisdom they know as httle as " the eagle, and the ossi-
frage, and the ospray, and the owl," unclean bu-ds all,
sweeping over the desert where the tabernacle reposed,
knew of the awful contents of the ark of the covenant.
The testimony which such people give to religion, taken
with its accompaniments, is often as horrible as it is
ridiculous. A miserable suicide leaves his judgment
that the Bible is true. The most misanthropic of all
sensualists, Rousseau, to his elegant but poisonous con-
fessions of lust and lying, adds a tribute to Jesus
Christ, whom he prefers, O maiTellous complaisance, to
Socrates ! It is about a hundred years since Earl Eer-
rers, an English nobleman, was carried to the scaffold
for his second mm-der. On his way the minister of re-
ligion tendered to him the admonitions and consolations
which it is usual for aristocratic and plebeian felons to
receive ; but the school which taught him murder had
also taught him deism : he haughtily rejected the good
offices. But then, not to be too cruelly grand, and as if
25

386 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES.

to spare the humbled feehngs of Christianity, he deigned
to say, that he beHeved in a God, and that he had
always thought the Lord's Prayer a useful compo-
sition.* Such is the commendation which some are
fain to chronicle, from the condescending admissions of
absurd and immoral men. Let all such lie sOent in
their original worthlessness, while a healthful love of
truth leads us to suspect and avoid organs to which the
light of noon is repugnant. We do not require the
tardy, reluctant tribute of minds which still reject our
heavenly Master. Pilate and even Judas may yield
testimony to innocence, and we own the power of con-
science ; bat it is to the faithful eleven that Jesus says,
"Ye shall be my witnesses." And this leads me to
turn suddenly from the false witnesses to the true ; from
those who yield a reluctant, insufficient and insincere
testimony, to those who speak in honour of the truth
with heartiness and acclamation ; from outside lookers-on
to believing inmates and loving children. Let us, then,
reflect on the meaning of these words which the Lord
addresses to his people : Ye are my witnesses.

The truth to be considered and apphed is, that aU
true Christians are witnesses for God. And here it is
hardly requisite to premise, that there is a sense in
which God asks no attestation. He is himself the in-
finite som'ce of all authority and the fountain of honour.
Were all systems of planets, with all their inhabitants,
and every thinking, active creature, smitten and turned

* Walpole's Letters.

BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 3gy

back into nothing, the self-existent, independent Jeho-
vah would still be glorious, in the mutual comprehen-
sion of the Divine Persons, to aU eternity. But the
Most High, in the communicative flovnng out of his
love, has come forth in creation, for the very pm-pose of
reflecting his rays upon the intelligent moral beings
whom he formed by his power. Of all it may be said,
" Tor thy glory they are, and were created." Of human
subjects God declares : " This people have I formed for
myself, they shall show forth my praise." Such is the
grand intention of the method of grace. Souls are
saved, that they may eternally laud and magnify the
riches of divine excellency ; " that he might make known
the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he
had afore prepared unto glory." Salvation, when con-
summate, wiil prove to have had this end, the exhibi-
tion of wisdom, power and love ; " that in the ages to
come, he might show the exceeding riches of his grace
in his kindness toward us, through Christ Jesus." In-
deed, this reverberation of God's praise is the office of
all creatures, animate and inanimate, being what is fitly
named his declarative glory. And all this declaration,
whether vocal or silent, may be considered as a witness-
bearing, which has this pre-eminence in children of
God, that it is the tribute of holy love and gratitude.
Every true believer, then, is a mtness for God. In time
and in eternity, he is a lamp kindling into brighter and
yet brighter flame, in the sanctuary of his Lord. Early
'H his ministry, our Master taught this to his disciples :

388

BELIEVERS ABE WITNESSES.

" Ye are the light of the world ; " " Shine," and " Glo-
rify your father which is in heaven." For this very
purpose of bearing witness to the truth every believer
was first called. And as Jesus, the Messiah, the elect
of God, is the Chief Witness and pre-eminent glorifier
of God, so all the members of this Head and followers
of this leader, render a testimony according to their
respective positions. " Ye are my witnesses, saith the
Lord, and my servant whom I have chosen." But this
testimony to God and his truth must not be left in its
generality, but traced out a little further into some of
its branching exemplifications ; in order that we may
see how complete, irrefragable and glorious is the wit-
ness borne to revelation and the gospel. True behevers,
then, are witnesses for God, by their believing, their
profession, their example, and their suffering.

1. By their BELIEVING, To believe God's words
is the very first act of adherence. Here the vital con-
nexion is formed with God incarnate. At this point
the rebel wheels into the ranks of service. The erring
orb turns its lately darkened side towards the Sun of
righteousness. What though the act be inward and
invisible ? God reads his own inscription on the soul :
and who shall say that it is not read by higher created
intelligences ? Even among men, this light is not placed
within the crystal globe of a soul to remain unseen.
Acceptance of truth, especially of Jesus, the primeval
truth, is inferior to no act of homage which the creature
ever puts forth during aU the career of grace. The chief

BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 389

attestation given by any man is himself to believe. He
" setteth to his seal," that God is true : he witnesses.
It is his endorsement, or subscription. He avouches
God to be his God, and passes over to his side. This
is introduced allusively a few verses later : xhv. 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 mito the Lord, and surname himself by
the name of Israel." He who has faith in the Gospel
thereby becomes a witness for Clnrist. It is by the
Spirit in the soul that behevers are enabled to say :
" And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent
the Son to be the Saviour of the world."

2. Believers are witnesses for God, by means of
THEIR PROFESSION. TMs is literal, positive, and open
witness-bearing. In Scripture it is often called confes-
sion, and those who brave perils in making this avowal
are named confessors. " With the heart man beheveth
unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is
made unto salvation." In early times it was often, as in-
deed it sometimes is with us, a joint attestation, a " good
confession," before many witnesses. This comes home
tenderly to all such as have lately taken God to be their
God, and sat down among his people. They then and
there stood forth as witnesses. To this Paul alludes,
saying, " Let us hold fast the profession [joint attesta-
tion] of our faith without wavering." AU professing
Christians since the world began have been so many
(vitnesses for the Christian system. They voluntarily

390

BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES.

come out from tlie world and take their position on the
Lord's side. They avouch the Lord to be their God,
and Jesus Christ to be their leader and captain of sal-
vation. Of this testimony they are not ashamed. If
rehgion is unpopular, and strict Christians in a minority ;
if social persecution, in the way of ridicule and calumny,
arises ; if false opinions, called Hberal, but savoming of
perverse progress, erroneous and heretical, have currency
and sit in the heights of fashion; if consequently it
costs something to be a disciple, and the professor must
often be singular, conspicuous, and solitary; none ol
these things move him. As a witness would go into
court joyfully and with open face to attest the character
of a father or a friend, though all the world were on the
other side, so the Christian is ready to stand up for his
Redeemer. There is even a glorying, in the ingenuous
soul, when adherence to a friend and vindication of a
righteous cause involve some peril or obloquy. The
majority of you, my brethren, are called to profess the
name of Jesus, in a much more quiet and secure way.
You rather gain than lose by appearing as Christians.
Very different is your condition from that of early be-
Hevers, who often signed their own death-warrant when
they owned Christ before men. But you do as really
witness for God, when you come into the fellowship of
saints, and show the Lord's death till he come.

3. Disciples are witnesses for God by their example.
Actions speak loudly for any cause. ** By this," said
our Saviour, " shall all men know that ye are my dis-

BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 39 J

ciples, if ye keep my commanclments." It is by letting
our light shine that we glorify our Father which is in
heaven. No words, however well chosen, repeated or
earnest, no professions, however public, can avail so
much for the honour of Christianity, as a pure and con-
sistent life. In the early progress of the Gospel, this
was the attestation which first struck, then attracted,
and eventually convinced the Gentile observer. The
truth, the peacefulness, the meekness, the fraternal affec-
tion, the charity of the new sect, won its way to the
moral approbation even of enemies. This is a species
of testimony which, from its nature, is continually on
the increase. The more wide our field of observation
and the closer our scnitiny, the more will instances of
moral excellence, as fruits of faith in Christ, brighten
on oiu* vision, as new tracts of stars come into view in
galaxies and nebulae, under the penetrative power of
the telescope. All behevers are thus God's witnesses,
by a holy life ; and this to the confounding of infidel-
ity, which can show no such seals. Our very familiar-
ity with this class of facts deadens our susceptibility
to their just force. We almost weary of seeing men
made better by Christianity. But let us see how the
account will read, if we reverse the statement, and
imagine such things recorded of infidelity. Let me
feign the history of such inverted revival, thus : A man
well known as a liar, swindler, and profane swearer,
has lately been convinced of the falsity of the Christian
religion, and has consequently abandoned all his evil

392 BELIEVERS ARE WITJiTESSES.

courses. A riotous, drunken ruffian, tlie scourge of his
family and terror of his neighbourhood, has lately be-
come quiet, pure, and temperate, and has closed his den
of madness, all as the fruit of Deism, to which he has
been converted. Two miserable debauchees ascribe
their return to a life of virtue to having embraced the
doctrine of universal salvation, and express great com-
fort in the belief that Judas Iscariot passed immediately
into glory. An entire community has just sustained a
transformation from htigious conflict and angry feud to
concord and humanity, from yielding to the belief that
there is no God. — You are startled, my brethren, and
justly. Infidelity bears no such fruit and summons no
such witnesses ; while the religion of the Bible exhibits
them with uniformity, splendour, and incalculable ex-
tent.

4. True Christians are witnesses for God by their
suFFEUiNGS. All Christian suffering is a kind of wit-
ness-bearing. It is the greatest consolation of saints
under heavy trials, in long debilitating illnesses, and
those retirements and straits which forbid active service,
that they are all the while passively serving. Under
the Cross they bear witness of God ; attesting his jus-
tice, his faithfulness, his power, his wisdom, his cove-
nant-gentleness ; they bear witness of Jesus, that he
hears the sigh of the humble, distils the dew of his
grace, sustains the fainting head with his arm, tranquil-
lizes and elevates by his Spirit, and shows himself alto-
gether lovely. Suffering is witness-bearing, 0 believer,

BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 393

when under pangs, or in painless intervals, when the
clammy moistm-e and heaving breast and languid eye
betray the wresthng just past, you are permitted and
prompted to honour your God and Saviour. Not only
men, but angels, nay God himself, regard such endu-
rance, even in a single case ; what shall we say of the
gathering myriads, who for ages have been coming out
of great tribulation, and ascending to the white robes
and triimiphal palaces of Zion? "Ye are my wit-
nesses," will the King say to such, but especially to
those who shall have sealed the confession of the truth
with their own blood. Let not the overstrained eulogy
and superstitious veneration of these by a cornipt
Church lead us to deny the value of their testimony.
A witness is called in Greek a martyr. We have bor-
rowed the word, and made it sacred in our own tongue ;
for though it appears only twice in our version, in ap-
plication to Stephen and Antipas, the very same word
occurs repeatedly and is in the Greek translation of
our text. " The noble army of martyrs " praise God,
and should not be forgotten of men. Among external
evidences, these avowals of men, who, at the risk of
every thing eartlily, and in contempt of every favour
and reward, o^vned Clu^st at the stake, or in the face of
ravenous beasts, abide conspicuous. In regard to the
mu'acles of Christ and his apostles, as well as to the
predictions uttered by these and afterwards fulfilled,
the attestations of such original witnesses, at the instant
of martyrdom, are beyond all price. We are forced to

394 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES.

believe them. Every law of evidence and every prin-
ciple of human nature must be violated, before we can
doubt the numerous concurrent uncontradicted testi-
monies of those who could not have been mistaken, and
who would not in such perils have deceived. All an-
tiquity shows that the witness-bearing of both classes
had a mighty effect in commanding the credence of Jews
and Gentiles, on the spot and at the time. Nor was the
validity of the miracles which were thus attested left to be
settled by the intrinsic evidence of the truth which such
miracles confirmed. This opinion, which has trickled
in upon our theology from the corrupt springs of Ger-
man latitudinarianisra, and which would prove miracle
by doctrine rather than doctrine by miracle, belongs to
a system which, speciously gaining . over our younger
scholars, is carrying them over by squadrons to the
camp of rationalism. The late eminently philosophical
statesman, Mr. Gallatin, once said to me, alluding to
the lax opinions of certain erroneous teachers : " They
say, we beUeve in spite of the miracles ; but I say I
beheve because of the miracles." And when we accredit
the early martyrs and confessors, we build on the mira-
cles and other supernatural sanctions which constitute
the ground course of the evidential wall. To which we
add, in another sense, all the suffering and dying wit-
nesses of later ages.

Behold here, my brethren, in the faintest outhne,
something of the testimony which God receives from
his people. To them you must go, if you would learn

BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES.

395

the grounds and import of Christianity. Only they
can say, " We speak that which we know, and testify
that we have seen." They can tell of a Saviour who has
proved himself sufficient iu the day of trial, who has
lifted them out of the swoon of despair, and breathed
rapture into them with the kiss of peace. Their lan-
guage wiJl naturally be. Come and hear what the Lord
hath done for our souls. They are not reluctant wit-
nesses, but long for opportunities to report the great-
ness of the Divine love. Their number is incalculable.
In all human tongues these attestations will be given.
Out of all kindreds and peoples they will flock in con-
course to the green and fragrant banks of the River of
Life, to renew, amplify, and perpetuate that testimony
which they began below. Go to them, ye doubters, and
not to the ignorant and deluded sons of philosophy,
falsely so called ; go to them, and accept their record.
They hww that these things are so. They have be-
lieved ; and beheving have had the spirit of adoption.
The things of rehgion are realities, ascertained to them
by an infallible consciousness. It is the certainty of
their assurance which gives earnestness to their unani-
mous declaration.

And ^e, my fellow- witnesses for God, consider whom
you attest, and what the office you discharge. The
voice which shakes heaven and earth, says, " Ye are my
witnesses ! " Let the solemn vocation penetrate, and
the heavenly sanction overshadow your minds; let other
duties, callings, and privileges be merged in this. Look-

396 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES.

ing back on all the way in whicli the Lord has led you,
must not you speak good of his name ? Love should
constrain you to testify that nothing has failed of all
that was promised. But you Uve in the midst of a
crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine
as lights in the world. Let the light be brilliant and
unmistakable. Hold it liigh, so that none need ever
ask twice whether you ate on the Lord's side or not.
However ardent may be the professions of some, at a
season of general awakening, and how firm soever their
attachment to Christ's church and ministers, observa-
tion shows that time works marvellous changes in
stony-ground hearers. Such were the Galatians ; warm
converts, strenuous adherents, eager witnesses for a
while. But listen how Paul addresses them : " Where
is, then, the blessedness ye spake of? for I bear you
record, that if it had been possible, ye would have
plucked out your own eyes and have given them to me."
Life, entire life, beloved servants of my Lord, is a period
of witnessing. By act, by omission, by speech, by
silence, whether you will or not, you are forever testify-
ing. Hour by hour you are testifying, sometimes
much more loudly than by words, either for or against
your Master. You are doing that which leads others
to conclude, either that Christ aflPords a satisfying por-
tion, or that his service is annoying and wearisome.
Here, surrounded by the partners of a common hope,
and supported by a public opinion which honours the
Gospel, you are prompt to appear on the side of truth.

BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 397

It costs no sacrifice of profit, ease, or good name. But
.change the scene ; go among the wicked, or even the
gay. Enter the smnmer circle, at pubUc resorts, where
strict conformity to God's law is unknown; and allow
me to ask, is your mind made up to be a witness for
yoiu: Redeemer there also ? Are you likely to be firm
for Christ, when all the tide of opinion, business,
pleasure, runs the other way ; when to be a consistent
disciple is to be pointed at and shunned ; and when
your testimony may be as unwelcome as it is sohtary ?
For such Christianity, you need a courage which will
never come to you except upon your knees. Though
left as solitary as was your Lord, and like him beset
with false witnesses, if you only have his Spirit, if his
life flows into you, if, beheving on and clinging to him,
you have inward pulses which keep time with his heart ;
you will stand in the evil day, you will win souls, you
will recommend the Gospel, you will live teaching and
die witnessing. Amen.

XVIII.

THE CHtFECH A TEMPLE

THE CHURCH A TEMPLE *

1 Peter ii. 5.
" Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house."

It is difficult, if not impossible, for us to enter into
the feelings of an ancient Israelite in regard to the
temple at Jerusalem ; yet unless we do so in some de-
gree, we must lose the force of numerous figures in the
New Testament, which seized upon the imagination of
the Jew. To him, that structure was the best of aJl
terrestrial things. It was at once the citadel of his
commonwealth and the sanctuary of his Church. To
this spot his face was turned in devotion, wherever he
might wander on the earth's surface. Its walls con-
tained all that he held most splendid in ceremonial and
most sacred in mystery. In some sense it was the

* New York, April 3, 1854.
26

402 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE.

centre, not of Palestine only, but of tlie world, for his
Lord had said, " My house shall be called a house of
prayer for all nations." Its pomps and praises, the
volume of its harmonies both vocal and instrumental, its
bleeding and smoking propitiations, its odorous clouds
of incense, its ablutions and sprinklings, its throngs of
exalted worshippers, its festive processions, and its inac-
cessible mysterious shrine, aU conspii^ed to give it a
hold on his admiration and his affections, such as no
other material structure ever gained over human hearts.
Hence the most available charge against our Lord Jesus,
and that which was best fitted to make the populace
infuriate, was that he had spoken contemptuously of the
holy fabric. It was not unnatural, that in a period of
formal religion, the minds of the people should have
become knit to the external pile. No gleam of its
higher mystery and spiritual intention had yet broken
upon their worldly minds. Not yet had it been re-
vealed that God is a Spnit, and that they who worship
him must worship him in spirit and in truth, any-
where, everywhere, and not at Jerusalem or this moun-
tain. And yet, from the beginning, God had been pre-
paring his Church for better things, by means of this
visible type, and clearing the way for the setting up of
a house not made with hands. Even in the rudest
stages of rehgious disciphne, aU that is outward, palpa-
ble or formal, is in its nature temporary, and is used to
symbolize something greater and loveHer, beyond the
domain of sense. The day was rapidly approaching

THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4Q3

when this glorious architectui'e should be given to the
flames, and when Israel should be without an eartlily
sanctuary. The vanishing of the typical system was
foreshown, when the vail of the temple was rent in twain
from the top to the bottom. Shortly after this, the
Church began to take its new and Christian form. But
those who came under this New Testament influence
from out of Judaism, were steeped in associations de-
rived from Hebrew rites. The apostles, therefore,
themselves Jews, found it natm*al and important to ad-
dress them in terms derived from the old economy;
and hence we find no figm'es more abundant than those
which are derived from the temple and its rites. In
this instance, the mind of the apostle Peter, full of the
strains of Old Testament psalmody, thinks of his adora-
ble Redeemer as predicted in the 118th Psalm. The
words of David are : " The stone which the builders
refused is become the head stone of the corner." AH
in a glow with the image, his imagination under divine
influence, proceeds to carry up a spiiitual structm-e on
tliis foundation, and to fiU it with a worshipping spir-
itual Israel. So he breaks forth : " To whom commg,
as unto a living stone, disallowed indeed of men, but
diosen of God and precious, ye also as lively stones are
built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer
up spuitual sacrifices acceptable to God by Jesus
Christ." The warmth of Oriental style does not shrink
from all that our severer rules might regard as a mix-
ture of metaphors. The rapid transition of mind here

404 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE.

certainly gives origin to a double figure ; for the same
persons who in one clause are called the temple, are in
the next represented as the worshippers. Both temple
and worshippers, in the type, were intended to show
forth the Church of God, or the entire body of sanctified
believers. Prom these words, therefore, I would invite
you to consider with me the Church of the Lord Jesus
Christ as a temple.

1. It is a SPIRITUAL HOUSE. The apostle Paul
speaks of a house not made with hands, eternal in the
heavens. Here also we may say with him, " that was
not first which was spiritual, but that which is natural,
and afterwards that which is spiritual." Such is the
order of divine revelation to the human mind. We
are led from the material to the immaterial. Common
apprehensions fail to reach this ; and there are many
who never get beyond that which can be seen and felt.
But in proportion as we gain insight into God's plan
and are elevated by faith, we learn to value the things
unseen, and awake to the knowledge of a vast and glo-
rious spiritual universe, of which all that surrounds us
is but the husk and emblem. Our Lord was continually
engaged in lifting the minds of his disciples from aU
the glory of their darling shrine, to the wonders of an
imperishable house. You remember that when they
would have attracted his admiration to the buildings of
the temple, he rephed, " See ye not all these things ?
Verily I say unto you, there shall not be left here one
stone upon another, that shall not be thrown down.**

THE CHTJRCH A TEMPLE. 4()5

All was to make way for a mastei-piece of spiritual
architecture, which only the wise and the beheving have
eyes to behold.

2. It is very obvious that, of this spiritual temple,
the " BUILDER AND MAKER IS GoD." It is for lus glory
and for his residence. The plan and the execution are
his. In all ages of the world his eye has contemplated
this structure, and his arm is carrying it forward. In
the spiritual temple, God is pre-eminently doing his own
work ; manifesting his own perfections ; exalting created
intelligences to pmity and happiness ; and producing
those heavenly virtues which are more precious than all
the marble, gold, and gems of the earth, and which are
wrought only by the Spirit of holiness.

3. Yet this spiiitual temple, reared by the hand of
the infinite Spirit, is nevertheless no shadowy edifice. It
is in a high sense real, being composed of human be-
ings. Angels may contemplate the work and aid in
it, but they form no part of it. " Ye," says oiu* apostle
to Christians, " ye, as lively (that is, living, animated)
stones, are built up a spiritual house." Such is the
value and dignity of a human soul, made in the image
of God, redeemed by the Son, and dwelt in by the
Spirit, that there is a consummate glory in a structm^e
of which every component part is such a soid. In other
places, the individual believer is represented as a temple
of God ; but here, by a change of figure, which beauti-
fully and expressively brings forward the fellowship,
multitude and union of believers, the whole are set be-

406 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE.

fore US as compacted into one perfect structure. The
stones are no longer masses of granite, marble or por-
phyry, but men, redeemed and sanctified, and here-
after to be perfected and glorified. Every saint has his
appointed place. The temple comprises all the righteous,
who have been, are, and shall be to the end of time.
We often think of believers, as separate existences, and
sometimes of the Clim'ch on earth at a particular time ;
but we must also rise to the contemplation of the com-
plete body, in which not one true servant of God is
wanting, from righteous Abel to the last who shall be
summoned to glory by the final trump.

4. The temple has a foundation. We need not
wander far to find what it is. " Behold, I lay in Zion
a chief corner-stone, elect, precious." " Other founda-
tions can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus
Christ." "Built upon the foundation of the apostles
and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief cor-
ner stone, in whom all the building fitly framed together
groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord, in whom ye
also are builded together for an habitation of God
through the Spirit." It was meet that the Son of God
should take humanity, in order that he might be the
foundation of this human temple. It rests on him, for
its coherence, beauty, grandeur and very existence. Its
walls are cemented by his precious blood. Every lively
stone in the pile bears his image, and is fashioned after
the head stone of the corner. His truth is the basis of
all faith in the Chiu*ch. His righteousness is the ground

THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4Q7

of all pardon, acceptance, and title to life. His Spirit
prepares and adorns each individual member, brings
him into the structm'c and keeps him there. Each
soul, and all conjoined, rest and rely on Jesus Christ
alone, as the source of strength, union, and perfection.
The whole heavenly architectm-e is of him and for him,
and his divine viilue is felt in every part of it, from the
base to the summit.

5. The work or rearing this temple is now going
ON UPON EARTH. Tliis is cxprcssly said by Peter : " To
whom coming, as hving stones, ye also are built up ; "
that is, ye are now in the very process of being built
up a spiritual house. It may be affirmed that our
sinful world is permitted to remain chiefly, if not solely,
for this very pm'pose, that the work of the hving temple
may go on. When a wise architect is about to frame a
great edifice, he selects his site, designs his plan, and
gathers his materials. From the guilty race of Adam
God is perpetually choosing and calling those who shall
be the living stones in his temple. Though the con-
summation is to be in another state, the busy process of
preparation and erection is in this. When the temple
Off Solomon was to be reared, what hewhigs, shaping and
transportation of cedars in the forests of Lebanon ; what
excavations in the quarries of the vale ; what castings in
the plain of Zai'than ; what moulding and carving of
gold and silver among the artificers of Israel. All was
lookhig towards the going up of the stately walls upon
jMoriah, without the sound of axe or hammer. Thus may

408 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE.

we gain an emblem of what is now in process among
ourselves. Our state is altogether preparatory. Nothing
has yet taken its real shape. All that we call the work
of religion or of the Gospel among men, is only the
getting out of the material, or the building of it into its
place. Porgetting this, we frequently judge amiss of
all that God is doing, and " quite mistake the scaffold
for the pile." No wise critic will judge of a half-finished
architectm'e. At such a stage much is temporary, much
is obscure, all is incomplete. The beautiful idea of the
artist hes hidden among a chaos of platforms, engines,
and heaps of rubbish. Such is precisely the condition
of the Church below. It is at best but a small part of
the entire structure, which belongs to all ages, and
which is to see an age when behevers shall be increased,
perhaps, as a thousand to one. Much that we behold
is, after all, only scaffolding that shall be removed, or
rubbish that shall be cast away. But meanwhile the
work is going forward, and the walls, however slowly,
are rising. Every thing in God's providence respecting
the present world is made to lead to this. All preach-
ing of the Word, diffusion of truth, conversion of sin-
ners, and edification of saints, are means in God's hands
for carrying up his structui'c. Prophets and apostles
are humble instriunents in the work. Thus Paul, a
wise master-builder, says : " Ye are God's building. I
have laid the foundation, and another buildeth thereon.
Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that
the Spirit of God dwelleth in you ? If any man defile

THE CHURCH A TEMPLE,

409

the temple of God, liim shall God destroy ; for the tem-
ple of God is holy, which temple are ye."

6. But we must go further. Not only is the work
going on, but under the mighty hand of God the pro-
cess is so conducted by the wise position, due adjust-
ment, and manifold mutual relations of all the parts, as
to procm'C that symmetry and perfection which is one
day to be the admiration of the universe, who will see
in it the brightest display of the Divine perfections.
Tlie plan is perfect, and, imlike human plans, is carried
out vdth the absence of all defect and error. From the
massive foundation to the humblest interior appendage,
all belongs to one perfect draught ; all exhibits one sub-
lime idea. Every stone, timber, moulding, surface, tint
and pinnacle, is just what was designed, in its proper
place and just connexion. In every well-ordered build-
ing, there are parts which could not be anywhere else,
without being useless, offensive, or hurtful. So in the
" spiritual house," each of the " lively stones " is laid
according to God's infaUible design ; each soul is built
into its proper niche, each Christian that is born into
the world appears at the right time and place, if not for
his own highest exaltation and reward, yet for the grand
result of the Divine fabric. Each has a fixed relation
to all the rest, but chiefly to those which He nearest.
Of all the miUions of converted souls, there is not one
which has not his office and function in the extensive
scheme ; and though, stiictly speaking, the Creator
cannot be said to need any of his creatures, yet in

410 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE.

reference to the execution of his plan, each individual is
demanded for the very position which he occupies. The
structure does not rise " like an exhalation," suddenly
and all at once, but by slow degrees. The times for
each successive development in the Church are ordered
by an infinite AVisdom; and while our impatience
mm-murs at the tardiness of Him with whom " a thou-
sand years are as one day," every revolution, persecu-
tion, reformation and revival, falls out exactly at its
predetermined instant, while "the building groweth
unto a holy temple in the Lord." As part answers to
part by a felicitous arrangement, each member con-
tributes its appropriate service. The truth of God and
the graces of his Spirit pervade the whole ; and the
religious advancement of the humblest behever tends to
the general end ; for every part is connected with Christ,
" from whom the whole body, fitly joined together and
compacted by that which every joint suppheth, accord-
ing to the effectual working in the measure of every
part, maketh increase of the body, unto the edifying
of itself in love." Our views are necessarily limited to
the growth of the Chm-ch in om' own particular age,
and even this demands a scope of observation wider
than is given to most ; but the Infinite Mind takes in
the lapse of ages, contemplates periods yet more aston-
ishing than any which have revolved, and sees the mag-
nificent spiritual house, going up in stately proportions
through them all.

As each renewed soul is just that which God has

THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 411

made it, bom in the country and the age which he
foreknew, trained by providences which he designed,
and removed to the upper world at his good pleasure,
we may rest assured that Divine skiU wiU never want
proper instruments, and that no vacuity wiU exist in
those temple-chambers, for lack of men or talents, when
their hour has come. In siu-veying the past, we observe
a beautiful fitness and an enchanting variety in the ma-
terials which have been already built into that part of
the edifice which has thus far been reared. HowunUke
the corps of prophets to the corps of apostles ; and how
unlike the several individuals of each. We have Scrip-
ture authority for placing these among the most honour-
able and sustaining parts of the fabric, near the corner-
stone; for we are "built upon the foundation of the
apostles and prophets." Isaiah with his evangeUc
clarion, Jeremiah with his pastoral reed of soitows, and
David with his many-voiced harp, sometimes loud in
notes of triumph and sometimes subdued to the voice
of weeping, stand out mth a marked individuahty which
becomes the more surprising, the more nearly we ex-
amine the distinctive features. They may be hkened to
those immense but goodly stones, carried up in courses,
along the precipitous side of the valley, to foi-m the
bases for the temple of Solomon. The twelve apostles,
including the last and, humanly speaking, the greatest,
though brethren, how unlike! "Who, for an instant,
could mistake Paul for Peter, or either of them for
John ? They occupy saHent angles of the great foun-

412 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE.

dation, and lie nearest to the comer-stone, elect and
precious. Some of their brethren, though not visible
in the front which meets our eye, may have done equal
service in the bearing up of the mass. Martyrs and
confessors found their place, in succeeding ages, as the
wall advanced ; some as glorious for ornament as strong
for use. When love needed a signal display, amidst
the blood of martyrdom, we see it immortalized in an
Ignatius and a Polycarp. "When stalking heresy needed
a front of steel to stand unmoved against all its columns,
we find an "Athanasius against the world." When
the language of Greece is to be elevated to new dignity
by conveying the wonders of Chiistianity, we hear the
golden eloquence of a Basil and a Chrysostom. When
Roman philosophy had died out of the world, we behold
it revived in an Augustine, the father of the fathers.
Later down in ages, we catch ghmpses even amidst
Romish corruptions of a Bernard and a Kempis. The
note of alarm is given to a sleeping carnal church, first
by Wiclif, Huss and Jerome, then by Zwingle, Luther,
Calvin, and Knox. But time would faU me, should I
try to illustrate by particular instances the tmth, that
in God's building every variety of temper, genius, and
talent finds its place, and that heavenly wisdom will
never suffer any want of material for the sacred walls.
Let it be for the encoiu^agement of such among us as
are conscious of no high powers, and who sometimes
wonder for what sendee in Christ's Chm'ch we are fit,
that in a great structure all the component portions are

THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4^3

not equally great. There is not only the solid and the
costly, the rock and timber ; not only the precious and
ornamental, the gold and silver ; but likewise the hum-
ble and subsidiary, yea, even the otherwise valueless and
the minute; for not even mortar and earth can be
spared from the constniction. The Great Builder has
some lowly crevice in his house, which the meanest and
feeblest of us may occupy. We may not be called to
bear up buttresses, or to crown turrets, or to adorn the
carved work of the sanctuary ; but it should satisfy us,
if in some remote recess and unknown shade, we fulfil
the office which the Master has laid upon us.

The building of God, compared wdth which all hu-
man enterprises and structures are as nothing, goes on
in a manner unobserved by men, in a mysterious silence,
though often amidst surrounding turmoil and alarms.
Divine Providence can tm-n to its own account events
the most untoward and convulsions the most appalling.
The blood of martyrs was the seed of the Church. The
in'uption over the Greek and Roman nations of the
great barbaric hordes from the Indo-Germanic stock,
laid open the way for the coalescence of Christianity
with a new social and pohtical element, to which we
owe our language, our law^s, our freedom, and our
modern civihzation. We read that the second temple
went up " in troublous times." The wall of the Clu-is-
tian fabric has done so too. Dreadful and sinful as
wars are, they are instruments in God's hand ; and when
we hear the hurtle of arms and the shriek of battle-

414 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE.

fields, we may consider that Jeliovali has not forgotten
his temple ; these sounds are but the blasts of his
quarry or the crash of cedars in his forest of Lebanon.
The conquests of Charlemagne and his successors car-
ried the Gospel, more or less purely, into regions
hitherto pagan. That great event of our day, as yet
partially understood — ^the revolution in China — how-
ever it may result, shows how easily the high wall of
separation might be broken down and the triumphant
standards of Christianity earned in. And that great
European conflict, for the crisis of which the whole
civihzed world is now waiting with breathless expecta-
tion, direful as must be its proximate effect, will un-
doubtedly in some way tend to the upbuilding of
Christ's kmgdom. "Surely the wrath of man shall
praise thee; the remainder of wrath shalt thou re-
strain."

7. The Hving temple is to have an extension and
GLORY, even on our earth, such as has never yet been
attained. How far the walls have thus far risen no man
is competent to declare. But the work is daily ad-
vancing. AVliatever some may find it convenient to
assert, in favour of darling hypotheses, religion is in pro-
gress. To go no further back than the beginning of
this century, which has been the era of Bible and Mis-
sionary associations and triumphs, we see an undeniable
extension of the- Christian area on earth. But the
Scriptm'e abounds with declarations of a latter day, the
glory of which is yet future. *' In the last days it shall

THE CHURCH A TEMPLE.

415

come to pass, that the mountain of the Lord's house sliall
be estabhshed in the top of the mountains, and it shall
be exalted above the hills ; and people shall flow unto
it. And many nations shall come and say. Come and
let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, and to the
house of the God of Jacob." In a great edifice, the
later stages of construction are those which most reveal
the beauty of the conception. Therefore God addresses
his Church : " The glory of Lebanon shaU come unto
thee, the fir-tree, the pine-tree, and the box together,
to beautify the place of my sanctuary ; and I Tvill make
the place of my feet glorious." Hasten on, 0 blessed
day, when the resplendent towers of Zion shall catch the
rising beams of the retmiiing Sun of righteousness !

8. But let me not longer detain you from the
truth, that for the completion of the living temple we
must look to THE HEAVENLY STATE. Scripture meta-
phors and similitudes must not be so pressed as to
urge a meaning out of every particular, nor must we be
surprised if the parable does not show a perfect exact-
ness in aU its subdivisions. It has been said long ago,
that similes and what they represent are often like
circles ; they touch only in a single point. If therefore
we have thus far considered the spiritual house as going
up in this world, we may by a shght variation of the
image regard it still more precisely as attaining its real
form and finish in the world to come. ■'In this view, all
that takes place here below is but the preparation of
materials, the selection of the lively stones and the

416 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE.

goodly cedars, the excavation, hewing, feUing, squaring,
shaping and pohshing ; in expectation of being trans-
ported to the Jerusalem above. The home of the
Church is not here. Here we have no continuing city,
but we seek one to come. At no one period, even the
brightest before the second coming, are all the members
of Christ gathered together in one place. We often
think and speak as if Httle was accomphshed, because
little is seen on earth. But we forget that only part of
the hving structure is here, and this a small part.
Every moment, blessed souls, fitted by gracious dis-
cipline in this vale, by the axe and hammer and furnace
of trial and the moulding hand of sanctification, are
carried away in angelic arms, to be placed in the house
above. This is only the preparatory state. Out of this
mass God is gathering his elect and taking them to his
temple. Are there not mUhons already in heaven ? and
are there not more countless millions yet to be gathered
thither ? Then, when the last redeemed one shall be
caught up, to be added to the transcendent pile, " he
shall bring forth the headstone thereof with shoutings,
crying, Grace, grace unto it ! " In the visions of the
beloved disciple, we see the figure swelling in amph-
tude, and the house becomes a city, " the holy Jerusa-
lem, descending out of heaven from God, having the
glory of God, and her hght like unto a stone most
precious, even like a jasper-stone, clear as crystal ; its
wall having twelve gates, and at the gates twelve angels,
and names written thereon, which are the names of the

THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4;['7

twelve tribes of Israel, every several gate of one pearl,
and the street of the city pure gold, as it were trans-
parent glass."

Let us awake, Christian brethren, to the reality of a
spiritual structure, for which such preparations are
making around us. We are in the midst of the labours
which are to result in this great monument of divine
wisdom, power, and love. What are our earthly palaces,
what our civil and military marvels of architecture,
what our toils and accumulations, compared with this
building of God, which is to outlast the world ? The
people of this world, we know, are absolutely indiflPerent
to the temple which is rising. They sneer at it as the
antediluvians treated the ark ; they are ignorant of it, as
were the Tyrians and Zidonians of the first temple, even
while unwittingly they aided it ; or they oppose it, as
the Samaritans did the second temple. Nevertheless,
the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal,
the Lord knoweth them that are his. If the house is
rejected, so was its corner-stone. StiU it is ascend-
ing, and God's purposes are working themselves out.
There is nothing which we can do in life so important
as to contribute in some humble measure to the up-
building of the Chm'ch. It is the only work of which
the fruit cannot be lost. One soul, saved by our means,
is a living stone added to the edifice. One soul made
holier and better tlu-ough oui- labom-s, is a new orna-
ment to the unseen sanctuary. Not a toil, a self-denial,
or a tear, shall fail of recognition ; though lost to the
27

418 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE.

view of men, " the day ^dll reveal it." Open the eye
of faith and behold God's great work of regeneration
and salvation, which proceeds incessantly and success-
fully. The question is a solemn one : Am I in this
temple or out of it? There is no middle ground.
Have I come to Christ, the chosen precious corner-
stone ? Am I builded upon his truth, his righteous-
ness, his person ? Am I in union and communion with
that multitude of saints, who, as lively stones, are knit
together indissolubly in this subhme and increasing
structure ? Have I any good hope, through grace,
that I shall be among the constituents of the heavenly
city? The answer is important now; but the day is
coming, when the answer shall be one of doom ! If
yea, lift up your head, and bid farewell to every anxious
thought about inferior things. What are the loss or
gain, the pain or joy, of threescore years and ten, when
you look towards the things which are not seen, which
are eternal ! But if the answer be nay, pause this in-
stant. All is at stake. Kemaining thus without, aU is
lost, and forever. That headstone, however precious to
them that beheve, is no comer-stone to you ; but " a
stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence." "For
whosoever falleth on this stone, shall be broken." Are
we in our senses? Have men ever heard of their
danger and their way of escape, that all should lie in
so profound an apathy? God's temple will still be
complete and glorious, though you should form no
part of it. Much that seems (by church profession) to

THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4^9

belong to the structure, is only an appendage or a
seeming — " wood, hay, stubble." " The day shall declare
it, for it shall be revealed by fire ; and the fire shall try
every man*s work of what sort it is." And some who
escape shall " hardly be saved," yea, " saved, so as
by fire." May God own us, beloved, in that day!
Amen.

XIX.

STRENGTH IN CHRIST.

STRENGTH IN CHRIST *

Philippians iv. 13.
" I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."

When we consider that, next to that of the Lord
himself, no biography of the New Testament is so fully
given as that of the Apostle who uttered thqse words,
we are led to infer that his life and character were
meant to be closely studied, as affording the aid of ex-
ample and incitement in the ordinary course of Christian
duty. The variety of circumstances in which he is pre-
sented is remarkable, and gives occasion for the disclo-
sure of every holy sentiment which belongs to the re-
newed nature, in its noblest and freest development.
In his sorrows and his joys, his activity and his
restraints, we see in Paul the moving power of an
* New York, New Year's Day, 1855.

424 STRENGTH IN CHRIST.

inward principle, which overturned and renewed his
whole being. Perhaps it is not going too far to say,
that no mere man ever lived who has operated so exten-
sively upon Christians in succeeding ages, in the way of
example. Through him, though compassed about with
infirmities, God seems to have chosen to show how true
grace will work in a great diversity of conditions. In
the Epistle now open before us, he is in those straits
which sometimes make Christian equanimity difficult in
our lower degrees of rehgious growth. But the maxim
whereby he supports himself is one suited to a more
general application, and suited like aU high comprehen-
sive truths to every state. The kind gift of his Philip-
pian brethren had led him to touch delicately on his
necessities ; but he checks himself : " Not that I speak
in respect of want ; for I have learned (rare lesson) in
whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. (Gen-
tile philosophy attempted the same result, but without
success, for want of the principle which we are about
to consider.) I know both how to be abased, and how
to abound, (both difficult cases ; for some have fallen by
prosperity, whom Satan has vainly assaulted while
poor.) Everywhere and in all things I am instructed
(or, more exactly, I am initiated as into a mystery) both
to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to
suffer need. I can do all things through Christ, which
strengtheneth me."

Can there be presented a more appropriate senti-
ment for the year, or for every year ?

STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 425

There is, then, a strength in Christ, which so be-
comes the strength of the behever, that trusting in his
Lord he may be equal to every demand of suffering oi
performance. Such is the proposition which I would
unfold before you.

You will observe in the very expression an avowal
of weakness. It is unlike the vaunting of Stoics and
other sages, who, arrogant in their own resolved virtue,
stood up to cope with every opponent that should
affront them. Men of this temper abound, and their
language is lofty. They are in armour of proof, and
are mighty of will. Their neiTC, resolution and purpose
are not to be thwarted by any difficulty. The pride of
a heroic morality holds them up. But he that trusteth
in his own heart is a fool. And we have seen battle-
fields strewed with the fallen, who have gone to the
encounter of temptation without the aid of heaven.
Such a champion, haughty and self-reliant, the youthful
Saul had been, when his Pharisaic decision sustained
itself against the angelic countenance of Stephen and
the gentle power of Christ. But he had been lowered
in his tone, tliat he might be exalted, and softened that
he might become enduring. He had been brought into
a conflict, in which he was fain to cry, " I know that
in me, that is in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing ; for
to will is present with me, but how to perform that
which is good I find not." In the desperation of this
ordeal, he had burst forth, " 0 wretched man that I
am ! who shall deliver me from the body of this death ? "

426 STRENGTH IN CHRIST.

and rising to life, as he beheld his deUverer, had sub-
joined, " I thank God, through Jesus Cluist our Lord."
It was Christ, who was his strength ; and in this per-
fect and communicable strength, he could do all things.
Christ strengthened him ; and Christ stands ready to
strengthen the believer in our day.

Here as everywhere in the sui'vey of experience, we
are made to recognise the beautiful coherence of all
divine truth, and to perceive how an inward sentiment
of great value is based upon a sohd doctrine of the
system. The doctrine which acts as pedestal to the
colunm, is that of Christ's union as head with the be-
liever. " The head of every man is Christ." Never
was this precious doctrine more nobly unfolded or more
urgently pressed, than in the writings of Paul himself.
The acts of the Redeemer are for the redeemed. He
took their natm-e, assumed their habihties, answered for
their delinquency, procm-ed their pardon, accomplished
their justification, and abides in connexion with them,
for all the manifold ends of their salvation. Tor them
he was born, for them he Hved, for them he died, for
them he rose, for them he ascended, for them he inter-
cedes and reigns. He is made to each of them. Wis-
dom, Righteousness, Sanctification and Redemption.
The fimded treasmy of his merits, liis wisdom and his
might, are theirs. If he is strong — and " Thou Lord
in the beginning hast laid the fomidation of the earth,
and the heavens are the work of thine hands " — it is a
strength available for the very meanest of all his saints.

STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 427

Observe how Paul, after saying, Col. ii. 9, " In liim
dwelleth all the fulness of the godhead bodily," imme-
diately adds, " And ye are complete in him, which is
the Head of all principality and power." There is,
from those celestial and unseen fountains, a perpetual
flow downwards to om* world, where the heirs of the
kingdom, amidst a thousand weaknesses, are strugghng
along towards the purchased possession. Of these,
many a one, contemplating this reserve of power and
deposit of wealth, has forgotten liis thorn and the buf-
feting of Satan, and has exulted, " Most gladly, there-
fore, will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power
of Christ may rest upon me ; therefore I take pleasiu:e
in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecu-
tions, in distresses, for Christ's sake ; for when I am
weak, then am I strong." Here, then, is the confession
of weakness, but here also is the avowal of strength.
And surely, 0 Christians, it is worth your inquiry, how
you may find this strength and exercise this confidence,
in those various conditions which await you in the re-
mainder of life.

1 . And here it seems most natural to make our be-
ginning with the particular trial which drew these words
from our apostle. It was that of poverty, or worldly
embarrassment, which in every age has been the lot of
the majority of mankind, and especially the majority of
Christians. The fact that rehgion has wi'ought its
chief wonders among the humble, and that God has
chosen the poor of tliis world, " rich in faith," is too

428 STRENGTH IN CHRIST.

Clear to be questioned ; but the reasons of the fact may
not be so apparent. Among them may be these ; first,
that the infinite benevolence of God stoops with its
comforts and supports to those who are most sunken,
who suffer the greatest ills, and who are despised by
the luxurious and magnificent. Therefore into ten
thousand cottages and even hovels, the blessed Jesus,
who was himself a poor man, has entered, to convey the
" durable riches " of grace. And then, the humbling
influence of penury and want, scanty fare which keeps
daily fast, and sadness which ensures nightly vigils, the
hardships of aching limbs, nakedness, uncertain lodging,
wailing children, contempt of the lofty and oppression
of the strong — this humbUng discipline — ^fits the soul
of man for that message which passes unheeded by the
mansions of ease and self-importance. However it may
be accounted for, the people of God, in the best periods
of the Church, have often found themselves in a situa-
tion of straitened means. Moreover, the solicitude
and fear of the heart may vex those who are far above
the condition of degraded indigence or open men-
dicity. Clouds may overhang the morrow of the indus-
trious father, the pallid widow, or the lonely rehct of
a once prosperous house ; when channels run low, re-
sources fail, as the barrel and the cruse seem near
exhaustion. Times of commercial depression some-
times bring compulsoiy retrenchment into hundreds of
Christian families at once. And poverty, my brethren,
even in this wider sense, is a trial which it is hard to

STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 429

bear. Dependence is a yoke that galls the dehcate
sensibility. The heart of a good man may faint for a
moment under the unexpected load. You, who never
knew a day of hunger or shuddered at the knock of
an obdurate creditor, would find your resolution brought
to a rude test, if suddenly your household state should
be reduced to the standard of the poor. The very ap-
prehension of a reverse, so depressing and yet so com-
mon, brings the servant of God to the point of weak-
ness ; and after his first agitation, he proceeds to take
account of his spiiitual stock. How is it with the bank
of faith ? What hold is there on the treasure in heaven ?
Many a one, blessed be God, has been able to reply, in
the tenns of the Old Testament, "Although the fig-tree
shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines ;
the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall
yield no, meat ; the flock shall be cut oif from the fold,
and there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet will I re-
joice in Jehovah, I will joy in the God of my salvation."
THE LORD GOD IS MY STRENGTH. Ycs, the Ncw Tes-
tament believer, seeing more clearly, will more tri-
umphantly add, the Lord Jesus is my strength ; I can
do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.
I can be abased and can abound ; I can be full and be
happy. I have that part which cannot be taken away,
bags that wax not old, investments that cannot be de-
preciated. My security is eternal in the heavens. My
treasm'c and my heai-t are above. Having Chi'ist, I have
all thmgs. Without him the wealth of kingdoms would

430 STRENGTH IN CHRIST.

but sink me to ruin ; with him, I can be content upon a
crust. My soul is strengthened to peace and acquies-
cence. He to whom I have committed the greater, will
be surety for the less. " Is not the life more than meat,
and the body than raiment ? '* I am firm in the persua-
sion that my Lord and Master, who has my love, wiU
never allow me to sink under cares of this life. Thus
the power of Christ is glorified in the experience of many
a straitened but contented soul.

2. This case, then, of temporal necessity was that
which drew out the believing and exultant affirmation
of Paul. But the source of power and solace and
assurance, is equally full for every instance of worldly
solicitude. Let us look at one of the most famihar.
As we are year by year journeying towards the certain
termination of our course, in death, so we may be said
to be dying daily. Each New Year's day marks an-
other approach to dissolution. Even under the roses
of health, the worm is at its fatal work. In some, the
symptoms of mortality are striking and undeniable.
To themselves and others, they appear as frail, decaying
creatures. Sometimes there are vehement shocks of
acute malady, which foreshadow the taking down of the
shattered tent. Sometimes there is a train of weak-
nesses, aches, and despondencies, which keep the sum-
mons forever at the door. In such as attain old age,
that period is but a long, incurable disease. Nothing
more convicts man of his feebleness, than bodily dis-
temper. A few nights of rolUng and tossing in the sea

STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 43]^

of pain, suffice to bring robust and stalwart health
into puhng infirmity. We do not find that earthly re-
sources avail much in this contest. The blow that first
strikes the body, presently lacerates the mind. " The
spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded
spirit who can bear? " Here, then, just where natme
surrenders, is the point where grace triumphs. Such
strength is given in every age of the church, every
day, yea, this very moment. Take the extreme case,
where death is certain and near. The Lord Jesus has
not withdravm his helpful arm. Nay, some of his
chiefest condescensions are vouchsafed to those who
have " the sentence of death " in themselves, that they
should not trust in themselves, "but in God which
raiseth the dead.'' Om' benign Redeemer loves to hold
up the sinking head of one whom he is about to release
forever. " He giveth power to the faint : and to them
that have no might he increaseth strength." In pro-
portion as the promise of worldly good is abolished, the
faithful soul grows mighty in the certainty and nearness
of heavenly good ; pledged to him in that divine Head,
who bare our sicknesses and carried om' sorrows, and
who can be touched with a feeUng of our infirmities.
Nor dare I confine the enjoyment of Christ's strength
to these particular classes of trial. Poverty and illness
are, after all, not the most bitter and weakening of hu-
man woes. There are secret troubles, gaping wounds
of the spirit, mortifications, disappointments and griefs,
which are all the more fitted to cast down and to unman.

432 STRENGTH IN CHRIST.

when they cannot be revealed to the eye of vulgar exam-
ination, or ask the lips of forward condolence. A'VTiat-
ever the heart sinks under, causes a necessity for Christ's
aid ; and there it is ! Amidst all the consciousness of
sin, he who has entrusted his all to the freeness of the
covenant, can be strong in the Lord and in the power
of Ms might. "God is our refuge and strength, a very
present help in trouble; therefore will not we fear,
though the earth be removed, and though the moun-
tains be carried into the midst of the sea." It is not
the sufferer, it is the Saviour who is strong. " Their
Redeemer is mighty ; the Lord of hosts is his name."
The cordial is suited to every case. The year can bring
no exigency which the strength laid up in Christ shall
not meet. Make it yours, beloved hearer; and let
God's invitation resound in your heart, " For I the Lord
thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee,
Eear not, I will help thee." Isa. xh. 13.

3. From temporal, let us go to spiritual troubles.
There is a great conflict with sin, in which we need
divine strength. Woe be unto us, if Christ does not
help us here. It is a conflict in which every one of us
will be engaged, either to conquer or be conquered. If
Paul could rise and testify, he would declare that all his
other contentions, not excepting his fighting with beasts
ut Ephesus, w^ere nothing to this; and all true Chris-
tians have had a similar experience. The more ad-
vanced we are in holiness, the more shaU we regard
other trials, such as affect the body, or the property, or

STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 433

the reputation, as not worthy to be named along with
those which endanger the conscience. The greatest
enemy we can possibly have, is he who makes us sin.
The father of lies, who was a murderer from the begin-
ning, has made his grand effort just here. His per-
petual endeavour is to beguile or terrify the Christian
into sin. He had the eifrontery and diabolical madness
to make an experiment with the Apostle and High
Priest of our profession, in a threefold temptation. But
the god of this world found that he had nothing in
Jesus ; no tinder in that bosom upon which his heUish
sparks could kindle. His hopes are greater in tempt-
ing poor, fallen, partially sanctified humanity. Great
are his successes for a time. If you call those Chris-
tians who have made high professions, he has caused
thousands of Christians to fall ; and he has humbled in
the dust many of the real brotherhood, when, like David
and Simon Peter, they have yielded themselves to his
attacks. This invisible warfare is more fearful than the
deadhest charge upon columns of a superior human foe.
" For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against
principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the
darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in
high places." The odds are fearful, if you look at your
own native strength. I apprehend that the reason why
some are not startled by this prospect, is, that they have
more fear of suffering than of sinning ; or perhaps they
cherish a secret scepticism as to their own weakness.
Either of these errors is fatal to progress in rehgion.
28

434 STRENGTH IN CHRIST.

There is that before each of us, in the way of conflict
and temptation, which mil not only bring all our powers
to the test, but will leave us defeated and utterly ruined,
unless we have some strength greater than our own.
And if we truly value holy obedience, we shall delight
in the assurance that this battle is not to be fought by
us alone. What will not the soldier dare, who is led by
a brave and invincible commander? Such is ours.
" Through God we shall do valiantly ; for he it is that
shall tread down our enemies." Ps. Ix. 12. Not only
have we Christ as a leader, but as the very source of
oiu" strength against sin, by oiu* union with him, and
the consequent effluence from Him to us of the Holy
Spirit, the source of all light, piu-ity and strength. It
is belief of this, and trust in the covenant terms, which
authorize the disciple to say, " I can do all things,
through Christ which strengtheneth me." I can stand
up in a struggle which would prostrate me in a moment,
if my own power was all. This is the victory that
overcometh the world, even our faith. I can pass un-
hurt through temptations also, for no temptation shall
befall me but that which is common to man ; and in
Christ's name I will steadfastly resist the roaring lion,
knowing that the same afflictions are accomphshed in
my brethren that are in the world. Chiist's strength
will be mine in the moment of sore trial.

4. It remains to say something about an obvious
application of the words before us to the case of ex-
pected labours for God. In this we include every

STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 435

thing which faEs under the denomination of active
obedience. For work, there must be strength. Por
Christian work, there must be spiritual strength. This
does not exist in us by nature ; nor even by grace and
after renewal does it so exist, as to be a permanent
stock, upon which we can draw, as something of our
own. It is the plan of God that his redeemed people
should feel their dependence at every step. They are
not sufficient of themselves to thmk any thing as of
themselves, but all their sufficiency is of God. This is
true of the ordinary course of Christian performance.
Every well-instructed disciple has discovered that he
cannot walk for a single hour without the sustentation
of the Divine arm. Those moments in which we are
left a little to our own resomxes, are moments of dark-
ness and grief, if not of disgrace and discomfiture.
Satan desii'es to have us, that he may sift us as wheat,
but Christ prays for us and succours us. He leads
the safest, truest, happiest life, who most consciously
leans upon the strength of the Redeemer, and takes
each several step of the way, with his eye fixed on the
Author and Finisher of his faith.

But if this is true of those labours which are ordi-
nary, much more strikingly true is it of such as are
extraordinary. Special demands of service are some-
times made. This is true in all branches of important
worldly trust. Pride or temerity might smile at the
grave view which an humble believer takes of new pe-
riods of life, new relations, new circumstances, new

436 STRENGTH IN CHRIST.

calling and office. He shrinks from what is laid upon
him. As Moses : " Who am I, that I should go unto
Pharaoh ? " As Obadiah : " And now thou sayest,
Go, tell thy lord, Behold Ehjah is here -, and he shall
slay me." As Isaiah : " Woe is me, for I am imdone."
As Jeremiah ; " Ah, Lord God ! behold I cannot speak :
for I am a child." As Ananias : " Lord, I have heard
by many of this man, how much evil he hath done to
thy saints at Jerusalem." When weakness is joined
with unbelief, prospective labours are appalling. If we
could enter into the secret experience of those Christian
heroes who have achieved the greatest wonders for God,
we should probably find that their mighty acts were
not performed without some foregoing trepidation and
sense of incompetency. Jacob weeps and wrestles be-
fore he is named a prince of God. The astonishing
valour of Paul was a fruit of grace ; and who knows how
often the day of corn-age and endurance may have fol-
lowed a night of agony ? It is not only common, but
it is good, to feel ourselves very weak in divine things.
Then it is that we take hold of strength. Amidst
floods of apprehension, the Psalmist cries : " When my
heart is overwhelmed within me, lead me to the Rock
that is higher than I ! " Then when the self- distrust-
ing one beholds the comitenance of heavenly friendship
turned full upon him, he knows on what to depend,
and sings, " I can do all things, through Christ which
?trengtheneth me."

The careful examination of the text will show you

STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 437

that it contains more than an acknowledgment of weak-
ness ; more than a persuasion that there is strength in
another ; it expresses the fixed pm'pose to go forward in
duty, relying on Christ. It not only says, In myself I
can do nothing, but In Christ I can do aU things. And
this is the very point of faith, to which we need to be
brought ; nor, till we are brought thither, shaU we ever
accomplish any high achievement in Christianity. We
must feel that there is solid ground under our feet, be-
fore we can march confidently onward. This unwaver-
ing belief of the treasure laid up for us in Christ, is faith.
It runs forward beyond the scope of sight ; beyond all
that has been traversed by actual experience. It takes
God at his word, and rests on his assm'ance. Believing
that he will call to no labours for which he does not fur-
nish strength, it attempts much, and trusts mightily
while attempting. The Christian, under these exercises
of mind, does not put off the beginning of performance
until the moment when he shall be sensible of Divine
aid flowing in upon his soulj but puts forth endeavours
now, in the assurance that consciousness of strength
will accompany sincere effort. It is the only principle
upon which rational obedience can be rendered. For if
we never undertake a duty until all inward difficulties
be removed, we only act over the part of him in Greek
fable, who deferred crossing the river till aU its waves
should flow by. No ; true corn-age and holy resolution
will rather look the obstacle in the face, saying of it,
even when most insuperable to the eye of natiu^e : " I

438 STRENGTH IN CHRIST.

can do all things, through Christ which strengtheneth
me."

And now, with the year before us, have we not, my
Christian brethren, a watchword, with which to be dih-
gent and undaunted for God? The ancient com-
manders used to cheer their soldiers on the eve of bat-
tle, by assurances that some of their favourite deities
were descendmg to fight in the ranks ; and the false-
hood added vigour to their hearts and nerve to their
arms. But in our soldiership we have the blessed truth
to stimulate us, that the Captain of our salvation goes
before us. Come prosperity or come pain, come wealth
or bereavement, come health or sickness, come tempta-
tion or labour — ^if Christ be with us, all shall be well !
And with us he is, and will be, if we are his people,
and if his promise is true. We greatly err by making
a sort of merit of our misgivings, and groaning over our
weakness, as if this were pleasing to God ; when, indeed,
a high aspiring faith and unwavering confidence in
God's aid for the future, is more welcome to him, and
unspeakably more productive of obedience in us. If
you have no satisfactory persuasion that the transform-
ing work of grace has passed upon your souls, you
have a great previous question to settle, and I implore
you not to adjourn it. But if you have believed, you
may make the words of the text your own, in prospect
of the year. And O that, together, and as with one
accord, we might go forward with these words blazoned
on our shields ! When the Lord Jesus was about to

STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 439

ascend to heaven, he gave a solemn commission to his
original apostles, in which he assigned to them their
work. But the commission was prefaced by these
words : " All power is given unto me in heaven and in
earth." It is this mediatorial power of the Lord our
Master, this communicated power, resting in the Head,
to which we as his members are privileged to resort.
That strength is om's, if we lay hold of it by faith ;
which shows us again, what we are continually learn-
ing both in the Word and in experience, the value and
necessity of faith ; not only for first receiving Christ,
but for walking in him. Just so much fortitude in
affliction and courage in action have we, as we have
faith. What we want for the year is more faith. The
circumstances of some now present may be greatly and
unexpectedly changed during the year. No preacher,
no friend, no father, could expound to you the particular
exigencies of the near future ; and when the trial comes,
you wHl feel that it is novel, and unlike all you have
known before. For such junctures you cannot make
special or detailed preparation. But here is a preparation
which is sovereign, and universally applicable. Believe
in the Lord Jesus, cast yourself on his arm, and appro-
priate his strength. Then, though it should be your
lot to go down into the swellings of Jordan, you shall
not be taken unawares. One of the most illustrious
and triumphant deathbeds at which I have ever been
summoned to minister, was that of a lovely Christian
woman, of refined sensibility and timid disposition,

440 STRENGTH IN CHRIST.

who was suddenly smitten down in a strange city, on a
journey far from friends, and out of the midst of appa-
rently perfect health. And yet Christ was her strength
and joy, and became her salvation ; so that even the
alarm of this strange surprise was wholly taken away
from her.

In the history of the Church we meet with some
striking instances of persons who have done extraordi-
nary service, and had uncommon success, whose names
are remembered with benediction, even in nations far
asunder and for successive ages. These are the men of
faith. They had learnt the secret of power. They
dared much and endeavoured much, because they were
backed and sustained by Christ's strength, which they
acted on, and about which they had no misgivings. If
you desire to be more useful than you have ever been,
go to the field, as David against the Philistine, with a
steady belief that yom' Lord wiU pour in the strength
as certainly as you put forth the effort. Happy indeed
win the New Year be to you, if you set about its tasks
in this temper. Does the sinking of conscious weak-
ness unnerve and subdue you ? Tui'n yourself wholly
over upon the Everlasting Arm. For some of you,
beloved hearers, I have had and still have, pecuHar
anxieties for the changes which this very year may
bring about. I have lived long enough to know, that
great revolutions of mind and heart may be effected in
a very brief period. " But I fear, lest by any means,
as the serpent beguiled Eve tlu'ough his subtilty, so

STRENGTH IN CHRIST.

441

your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity
that is in Christ." However unlikely it may seem to
you now — ^nay, however abhon'ent it may be from all
your present feeHngs — a few months or even weeks, un-
der new influences, may suffice to carry you down the
current of worldly and fashionable religion. The teach-
ings to which you now listen with respect and docility,
will have lost all charm, and the simplicity that is in
Christ will have been exchanged for a polished but cold,
an attractive but uninfluential, a philosophical but un-
evangelical strain, which shall fill the ear and entertain
the intellect, and fascinate the imagination, but from
which Jesus crucified shall be totally absent. How
shall such a defection be prevented ? How shall such
instability be guarded? Only by being strong in the
Lord. And O if, by intimate communion with him in
devotional exercises, you are made to " grow in grace
and the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ," then,
and then only, .will you be enabled to " stand in the
evil day, and having done all, to stand." Now, be-
loved, having on this first Sabbath of the New Year
sat together in the rest and refreshment of the sanc-
tuary, as imder a pleasant shade by the wayside, and
being uncertain whether we shall ever meet thus
again, or who among us shall, dming this period, be
called away ; let us arise, and lift our burdens, and take
up again the pilgrim staff*, and set out anew upon oiu*
journey. We might utter the words of Moses : " If thy
presence go not with me, carry us not up hence."

442 STRENGTH IN CHRIST.

Ex. xxxiii. 15. The Lord has been with us; let us
hope that he will not forsake us. As a church we can
do all things, through Christ which strengtheneth us.
We can cling together ; we can grow ; we can open our
bosom to receive the young, the stranger, and the wan-
derer; we can abound in good offices and acts of
charity ; we can break forth to found new colonies for
Christ ; we can part with property, health, friends, yea,
life itself, at the Master's call; we can drink deeply at
the wells of truth, and derive nouiishment from the
bread of the Word ; we can cast behind us old sins, and
put on us the armour of light, letting our godly exam-
ple shine on all around us ; we can rejoice alway, and
glory in tribulation also. All this, and more than this,
can we do tlu'ough him that strengtheneth our hearts.
But vdthout Him, branches separated from the Vine, we
can do nothing.

XX.

YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE

YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE *

Isaiah xl. 31.

" Bat they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength ; they
shall mount up with wings as eagles ; they shall run and not be
weary ; and they shall walk and not faint."

Compared with Psalm ciii. 5.

" Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things ; so that thy youth is
renewed like the eagle's."

Statues would be erected to the man who could
disclose the secret of a happy Old Age. For whOe the
most of mankind desire longevity, the judgment is
equally universal that the decline of life is painful.
The same law, however we may expound it, which
Innds over the entire race to dissolution, makes the
avenues to death full of terror. The sentimentalisin
and poetry of our day, in a vain contest with the nature

♦ New York, January 20, 1850.

446 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE.

of things, would hang garlands over the grave, and
educate the rising race in a persuasion that death has
no horrors. But nature, how often soever driven out,
persists in returning. We dread death ; and we dread
that old age which procrastinates it. Such is our
dilemma. Viewed from the terrestrial side, the fearful
object is seen aright. It is revelation, and grace con-
firmed to us by revelation, which clear the prospect.
In what manner this is effected will be made apparent,
if we consider these two statements included in our text.
1. That Old Age is naturally a time of weakness and
trouble ; but, 2. That Christian confidence and hope in
God give freshness, strength and joy, even in the period
of Old Age.

I. Old Age is naturally a time of weakness and
trouble. We see it for ourselves ; even if we have not
begun to feel it. Till lifted out of the common track
of opinion, every one looks on the aged as withdrawn
from the path of happiness. Civihzation and its refine-
ments have undoubtedly elevated the condition of the
aged, as truly as of the female sex. Yet even this is
often no more than a delicate feigning; for if rank,
wealth, place and power be abstracted, there is nothing
reverential in such appellations as " the old man " and
" the old woman." In this country, at least, we are on
this head more Athenians than Lacedemonians. Of a
surety we do not imitate the Hebrew, who is taught to
rise up before the hoary head. Universally we attach
to old age associations of debility and consequent with-

YOUTH rene-v\t;d in age.

447

drawal from the arena of excitement and tlie bower of
mirth. The old man's faculties are dim, and his sus-
ceptibihties are obtimded. He is left out of the pro-
gramme of entertainment. If called to feasting, he is
expected to say with Barzillai : " Can I hear any more
the voiee of singing men and singing women ? " In a
great number of instances, also, age is regarded as a
disqualification for active semce. And these results
strike us more forcibly in those ruder states of society
where nature presents its nude reality. All the history,
all the fiction, all the observation of the world, ascribe
to this stage of the human journey much of shadow,
cloud, and obstruction. As it respects the fact, the case
is not otherwise presented by Scriptm'e. These are the
days in which the weary one says : " I have no pleasure
in them." If lengthened out, "yet is theii' strength
labour and sorrow." " Surely every man walketh in a
vain show ; surely they are disquieted in vain ; he
heapeth up riches and knoweth not who shall gather
them." In the prospect of such hours of gloom, the
Psalmist prays : " Cast me not off in the time of old
age ; forsake me not when my strength faileth." When
the youthful wish for long life, they seek they know not
what. Age is solitary ; the tritest figm-e is the most
apt : the tree whose branches have been lopped off, till
it stands a naked trunk. Such is the tax paid for lon-
gevity. Decline does not commonly arrive witliout a
succession of warnings, enigmatically depicted in that
strange oriental passage which closes the Ecclesiastes.

448 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE.

Limbs grow stiff; the repast is toilsome ; articulate ut-
terance is hindered ; sight and hearing become obtuse ;
pains visit and revisit the frame, and at length make
settlement. Caution waxes inordinate, and turns into
timorous apprehension. Seasons of hilarity decrease,
and the wintry nights are long. It requires something
from another sphere than that of nature, to prevent
despondency, suspicion and discontent. If the diseases
which portend departm-e act on the physical functions,
the sadness of a worldly Old Age is deplorable. If
poverty or neglect or domestic disappointment be added
to the loss of all life's pleasures and excitements, old
age is a great and almost insupportable malady. Yet
observation, in aU varieties of condition, shows that the
love of Hfe abides in perfect vigour. We might expect
that very weariness of living would make the old man
prompt to go ; but the ligament becomes only more
tenacious. The wisest instructor we ever had used to
say, and to say in old age, that natural decay pro-
duced no increase of readiness to depart. An eminent
wntev on Pastoral Theology reports, as of his own ob-
servation, that more than a hundred young persons,
whose deathbeds he visited, passed away in peace ; that
the middle aged clung more closely to life ; but that
the most unwiUing of all were the aged.* Even the
crime of self-murder is perpetrated oftener by the young
than the old. At no period does man hang on worldly

* " Erfahrungen am Kranken und Sterbebette ; " von E. Kuendig.
Basle, 1856.

YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 449

things with a more tenacious clutch, than when they
are all about to be rent away together. This very
much levels the condition of rich and poor in old age.
The wealthy sinner has that which he can no longer
enjoy ; yet never did he so yearningly gape for more.
The ship is in the very harbour ; yet the voyager is
amassing fresh stores. It is a madness which consti-
tutes part of the punishment of an irreligious life. The
thirst of gain is insatiable. Comedy and satire in all
languages have painted the same pictm-e. Young
enthusiasts think that when they shall be old and rich,
they will diffuse blessedness on hundreds around them ;
and it is true this would tend to make the close of Kfe
delightful. But when they have reached the point,
alas, the heart has grown old and is withered. Scores
may have died who might have been claimants for aid ;
poor kinsfolk may have been long ago warned off by
the chilly barrier ; the doleful habitation may have its
valves all opening inwards j and yet there is not enough.
Just such a spot, in Gentile mythology, was the hell of
Tantalus. Such old age is trouble and sorrow. So
Solomon concludes ; " There is one alone, and there is
not a second ; yea, he hath neither child nor brother :
yet there is no end of all his labour : neither is his eye
satisfied with riches ; neither saith he. For whom do I
labour, and bereave my soul of good ? This also is
vanity, yea, it is a sore travail." Ecc. iv. 8.

Even the true Christian, when his case is viewed
without the solace of which we shall presently speak,
29

450 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE.

sometimes passes through great trials in the latter por-
tion of his life. To some the Valley of the Shadow of
Death is long and dreary. Diversities of corporeal dis-
ability, family vexation, and mental agitation or depres-
sion, assault and weaken the resolution which has with-
stood repeated shocks. And I fi'eely own, that if we
could take no higher view of life than that which is
admitted by the sceptical world, we should abandon
the worn-out creature to his despair. He might, in
lucid intervals of a partial belief, cry out to his Maker,
" Whv hast thou made all men in vain ? " What can
be more melancholy, than a soul about to migrate to an
unknown state ? There is something so contrary to
nature in the forced attempts at gayety which some-
times disgrace aged people of the world, that society is
prompt to manifest its disgust. The gravitation of na-
tive temperament prevails over all such affectations,
mockeries and disguises. The solitary hour is honest,
and it is dark. Outward mementoes are multiplied.
Ah, in how many funeral processions must the survivor
walk with sad decorum, himself a living sermon to all
around ! " Because man goeth to his long home, and
the mourners go about the streets." No longer delighted
to live, yet afraid to die, the worldly man who has sur-
vived his contemporaries, grows sullenly silent and
keeps his own secret. For to whom shall he go with
that complaint, which only serves to break the spell of
his cherished delusion and reveal him to himself? Dear
as his gold is, he would almost barter it all for a draught

YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 4'5|

of that fountain of youth which Spanish adventure
sought in tropical America. The poor disquieted suf-
ferer is faint, and discovers, that so far as nature reaches,
old age is a time of weakness and trouble.

II. Christian confidence and hope in God give
freshness, strength and joy, even in the period of Old
Age. "They that wait on Jehovah," or in modern
English, they that wait for him, who evince their trust
in his goodness and power by patiently awaiting the
fulfilment of his promises, they, though no longer
young (mark the contrast with v. 30), " shall renew
then' strength; they shall mount up on wings like
eagles, they shall run and not be weary, and they shall
walk and not faint." The same thought is in the
thanksgiving of the one hundred and third Psalm,
V. 5 : " Bless Jehovah, O my soul, who satisfieth thy
mouth with good things, so that thy youth is renewed
hke the eagle's." From both we may conclusively
gather that Divine grace has influences to bestow which
can counteract and often annul the debilitating tenden-
cies of Old Age. We are not authorized, it is true, to
teach that any degree of religious affection can turn
back the shadow on the dial-plate, restore its aubm-n
beauty to the gray head, or neutralize the physical
causes of distress ; though even here, such is the power
of spirit over matter, that history shows marvels of an
almost youthful gladness in blessed Christian old age.
But we may and can assert, that he whose habits have
been formed in a perpetual waiting upon God, receives

452 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE.

a hallowed unction of grace, which, so to speak, makes
him young again, or, more properly, keeps him from
waxing old within. In the most rapid sm^e}'^, we have
considered some of the causes which make this season
of life formidable. All ages have observed them ; all
philosophies have sought to destroy or lessen their force.
The most accomplished of all Roman authors has left
nothing more finished than his celebrated tract on Old
Age. Short of the meridian beam of revelation and its
reflections, nothing ever showed more nobly ; yet the
ray of its consolations is but a beautiful moonlight. In
vain is the venerable Cato introduced to teach us secrets
which Cato never knew. In this gem-like treatise
Cicero refers the troubles of age to four classes. Old
Age, so he tells us, is feared because (1) it withdraws
from the affairs of life ; because (2) it brings infirmity
of body ; because (3) it abridges or ends our pleasures ;
and (4) because it leads to death. Already, in treat-
ing of these several heads, much is said truly, ably,
and to a certain extent satisfactorily, on the first and
third topics ; but on the last, there is nothing but
melancholy conjecture. Even in regard to the other
heads, of business, health and pleasure, the suggestions
are infinitely below those known by the humblest Chris-
tian rustic. Tor what did this great and eloquent Ro-
man know of the oil which grace pours into the sinking
and almost expiring lamp ?

It is not to be denied, when we come with candom-
to the investigation, that as a general truth. Old Age

YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 453

withdraws men from the employments of hfe, and seals
up the active business years. In the great majority of
instances, however, this retreat for labour is voluntarily
sought long before the access of grave mfirmity. In-
deed, in prosperous communities, many retire too early,
under a chimeiical hope of enjoying an elegant repose,
for which they have made no provision by mental cul-
ture and discipline of moral habits. There is, it is
true, another sort of recession from productive labours,
which we occasionally observe in old men, and which
arises wholly from an unchastened selfishness. Let any
one grow wealthy without the warming and expanding
influences of benevolence, and he wiU more and more
lose his interest in all that is going on in the world.
Even wars and revolutions touch him only in their
financial aspects, and the daily journal is to him not so
much a courier of news, as a barometer of loss and
gain. Without religion, the ckcle becomes more con-
tracted. Triends have departed, by scores if not by
hundreds. What cares he for mighty movements in
behalf of humanity and holiness around him ? What
cares he for posterity, the country or the world, so that
he can exalt liis own gate, or die worth some round
smu which floats before him as liis heaven ? In the
same degree he wraps himself in his mantle, which is
daily shrinking to his own poor dimensions. This is
misery indeed. Take away the blessed sun, and every
thing becomes wintry, frozen, all but dead : take away
more blessed love, and the heart is dumb, cheerless, in-

454 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE.

sulated, meanly poor, so that the Latins named such a
one MISER. Let us leave him, shivering in his cave,
overhung with icicles, and come out into the evening
sunshine to consider the aged believer. He is like
Mnason, " an old disciple." He still learns. The
Greek stoiy tells us that when Solon lay dying, and
overheard some conversation on philosophy in his apart-
ment, he raised his head and said, " Let me share in
your conversation, for though I am dying I would still
be learning." Ten thousand times has this been more
reasonably exemplified in dying Christians, who con-
sider the whole of this life as but the lowest form of
the school into which they have been entered. And in
regard to activity, while modes of service must vary
with the bodily condition, we are bold to maintain that
innumerable Christians now living are, in advanced life,
impressing the whole engine of human affairs with as
momentous a touch as at any previous stage of exist-
ence. If there is Wisdom, the proper jewel of age, and
divine grace in its manifold actings, there need be no
lack of influence. They still lift up the eagle pinion,
and soar in such greatness as belongs to their nature.
But the point to which we would ask more marked at-
tention is this, that the aged behever, so far fi-om being
selfishly dead to what is going on in the world, is more
vigilant and more in sympathy with all, than even in
his days of youth. Blessed be God, we have seen this
again and again. The man who waits on God, the
man of faith and hope, the man of melting benevolence,

YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 455

looks through the loopholes of retreat upon a world
whose vast and often terrific revolutions interest him
cliiefly as included in a cycle of providential arrange-
nients calculated to develop and exhibit the glory of
grace. His heart beats responsive to these. The news
of Christ's kingdom is as dear to him as when he was
vehemently active in the field. He looks doAvn the
ages by the lamp of prophecy, and beholds events
which wiU take place when he shall have been long in
paradise. This connects him with the cause of Christ
on earth, and redeems him from that miserable dungeon-
like seclusion of soul which wastes away the aged
worldling. So far is it from being true that these por-
traitures are figments of religious imagination, that we
have been led to the choice of the subject by knowledge
and recollection of this very paradox in actual example,
to wit, extreme old age made light, strong and happy,
by community of interest in the progressive triumphs
of philanthropy and missions.

When, according to the Talnmdic fable, the eagle
soars toward the sun, he renews the plumage of his
former days. As the serene disciple withdraws himself
from any personal agency in the entangling plans of life,
he studies more profoundly what his Master is weaving
into the web of history. No longer young, he has
a heart which gushes in sympathy with the young. He
cheers them on. He places the weapons in their hands.
He takes from the wall his sword, shield, and helmet,
and rejoices that God still has younger soldiers in the

456 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE.

field. He lives his life over again in theii acliieve-
ments, and pictm-es to himself more signal victories
after he shall have gone. Like the womided hero Wolfe,
he could even die more happy if the shout of victory
should arouse his failing perception, Far from being
shut up in morose neglectful selfishness, he glories that
God's cause still hves and must prevail.

2. But, then, you retort, there is a sad infimiity,
inseparable from Old Age. Piety, however exalted,
will not remove this. Of all diseases this is proverbi-
ally the most incurable. Brethren, we might take the
high ground, that godliness hath the promise of the
life that now is; that temperance and other virtues
prolong life and avert disease ; that the righteous shall
'* see good days," and that religion is the best of aU
medicines. But fearing lest we should be charged with
exaggeration by the inexperienced, we will pitch our
cause on a lower plane, and rest content with declaring
that Christian confidence and hope confer a strength
which is perfectly compatible with aU this bodily weak-
ness, decay and pain. Christianity, my hearers, is a
system of indemnities. It does not insure us exemp-
tion from all losses, but it guarantees that these shall
be more than made up to us. True, the grand indem-
nification is at the recompense of the resurrection. But
prelibations of glory are poured into the earthly vessels
of grace. The quickening charm is not natural, but
supernatural. Mark, in the twenty-eighth verse, how
the eternal increate fount of good is pointed out ; and

YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 457

learn how the Mness of God, through a Mediator, be-
comes the available supply of man : " Hast thou not
known ? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God,
Jehovah, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth
not, neither is weary ? There is no searching of his
understanding. He giveth power to the faints Here
is human infirmity brought into connection with Om-
nipotence. Here is the solution of Paul's enigma,
"When I am weak, then am I strong." Here is
Christ's cordial to the aged, "My strength is made
perfect in weakness." But let us return to our prophet.
He represents even blooming adolescence as despond-
ing, while the feeble are made powerful by faith.
" Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the
young men shall utterly fall ; but they that wait on the
Lord shall renew theii* strength."

In the return from Babylon the oldest were sad-
dest ; for they remembered the glory of the first house.
Nehemiah, therefore, had pecuhar reference to them,
when he said to the weeping assembly, " Neither be ye
sorry ; for the joy of the Lord is your strength." Holy
joy is a springhead of renewed youthfulness. The
effects of grief and age are not unlike. How often
have we seen a friend go into the house of mourning,
young, and come out old ? Such was David's expe-
lience, Ps. xxxii. 3 : " My bones waxed old, tlurough
my moaning all the day long ; for day and night thy
hand was heavy upon me : my moisture is tm'ned into
the di'ought of summer." The cedars and palms of

458 YOUTH RENEWED IN Ar,E.

the sanctuary, planted in the house of the Lord, " shall
still bring forth fruit in old age, they shall be fat and
flourishing," Ps. xcii. Make a soul thoroughly glad,
and you make it young. The effusion of divine joys
has virtue to annul outward disabilities. For observe
the perfect analogy of another passage concerning
strength. Is. xxxv : " Strengthen ye the weak hands,
and confirm the feeble knees : say to them that are of
a fearful heart, Be strong, fear not ! " " Then shall the
lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb
shall sing." Such is grace, superseding nature, concili-
ating contraries, making the feeble mighty and giving
youth to the aged. And 0 how greatly would our ex-
perience and observation of the gift be increased, if with
higher faith and expectation we were waiting upon
God!

3. The antechamber of the Eternal abode is cold
and appalling to nature. This makes Old Age unwel-
come to the unprepared. This causes the vrretched
shifts by which they avert the thought of doom. So
successful is the delusion, that the man of seventy plans
for to-moiTOw as if he were not already in many senses
dead. No man is so old, says Cicero, but that he thinks
he may live another day. And so from day to day, as
ly stepping stones in the turbid stream, they totter on,
till the sudden fall plunges them into eternity.

The fear of death, which on the young sometimes
works salutary reflection, often becomes to the aged a
motive for abstracting the thoughts from the hateful

YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 459

subject ; and so they think of something else, and are
damned. I dare not undertake to say, what may be
the reflections of the old worldHng, when he lies down
for the last struggle, and finds that Eternity is dawning
on his soul, and yet that he has not made the least pro-
vision for meeting his God. But I know, for I have
often seen, how strong in faith and hope may be the
old age of the true Christian. After all, it is celestial
HOPE which sheds the dew of youth on his silver locks.
His posture is that of waiting, as watchers expect the
dawn. " More than they that watch for the morning."
Fresh blood seems to course through those outworn
arteries, as Hope waves the hand of indication towards
perpetual spring and everlasting youth. Not in the
mere elysian or Mohammedan sense, though we deny
the attributes and enjoyments of that bodily comple-
ment of the soul which is to be raised in incorruption,
in glory, in power, a spiritual body. But the fresh
breath of knowledge, of reason, of truth, therefore of
beauty, of love, of universal holiness, is wafted from
those gardens to the ancient beUever, as he worships,
' leaning on the top of his staff,' and sojourns a little
in the land of Beulah. We have sometimes seen the
clearness and vigour of former years come back. Call
not that man old, who is full of joys and hallelujahs,
and who is eager to drop the clog, shuffle off the mortal
coil, and soar like a bird set free from the snare of the
fowler. Call him old who is inveterate in sin ; who
never prays ; who dares not think of death ; who is

460 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE.

withotit God and. without hope, and on whose hoary
head no blessmg ever descends. The Simeon who has
Christ in his arms, has in him a well of water spring-
ing ; and so the true fountain of youth. All believing
and sublime exercises of Christian experience have in
them something as fresh as childhood. Once when I
was supporting a very aged believer from the house of
God, he turned to me and said : "I never felt younger,
and I believe that promise is fulfilled in me. He ' satis-
fieth thy mouth with good things, so that thy youth is
renewed like the eagle's.' " This persuasion, that true
religion brings the soul into fellowship with aU that is
free, hopeful and advancing in earth, and all that is
bright and perfect in heaven, led the most distinguished
of late German theologians, Schleiermacher, to say, in
the close of a long life : " The true Christian is always
young."

The racy old Enghsh of John Bunyan best sets
forth this stage of pilgrimage : " Here they heard con-
tinually the singmg of birds, and saw every day the
flowers appear in the earth, and heard the voice of the
turtle in the land. In this country the sun shineth
night and day. Here they were vothin sight of the city
they were going to : also they met some of the inhab-
itants thereof; for in this land the shining ones com-
monly walked, because it was upon the borders of
heaven. In this land also the contract between the
Bride and the Bridegroom was renewed, yea, here, ' as
the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so doth their

YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 4,Q\

God rejoice over them." My beloved bretliren, we
must be submissive to God's will, even if such an even-
ing of life be not vouchsafed to us. Yet I will maintain,
that it is of the nature of Christianity to produce such
joys. The exceptions are not from grace, but from
distiu-bing causes in our partially unsanctified hearts.
Waiting on God is directly promotive of fi'esh and
heavenly strength. The long continued practice and
rooted habit of waiting upon God, in confidence and
expectation, are the best preparative for a serene decline
and a happy end.

If the sentiment of the world may be safely judged
from its reflection in the mirror of the fictitious litera-
ture, wliich is seized with most avidity and reproduced in
the greatest number of languages, then unquestionably
the opinion is, that there is no happiness in evangehcal
piety ; and an Old Age of rehgion is one of som-ness,
vindictiveness, and misanthropic woe. Let the picture
of a Christian matron be painted by the matchless pen-
cil of one, whose misfortune it must have been never to
have beheld the original, and with whom devotion and
hypocrisy are the same, and the lineaments are such as
these : " Great need had the rigid woman of her mys-
tical rehgion, veiled in gloom and darkness, with hght-
nings of cursing, vengeance, and destruction, flashing
through the sable clouds." I quote from the ignorant
and mahgnant travesty of Christian Old Age, which
mars the most widely current story of the hour. And
I quote it, because it will meet response in hundreds

462 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE.

of thousands, who need the grace of Christ to avert
these very storm-clouds of decHning day. Let a hoHer
Hterature prevail in the refined world, a literature which
shall lionoiu' holy wedlock, family religion, and the
Church of Christ, and we shall behold other por-
traitm-es of the wife or the widow upon whom evangel-
ical truth has shed its dews of eventide.

You listen, my hearer, with the interest of one who
expects to journey thitherward. But you mil perhaps
never reach that stage of the way. A small proportion
attain to hoary hairs. Yet even for you, the topic is
not devoid of interest. That which is good for Old Age
is good for other conditions of sadness, which resemble
it ; for illness, disease, pain, solitude, reproach, poverty,
or depression. Wlien you shall have learnt to wait on
the Lord, you shall tread all these under yom' feet, as
ready to fly heavenward.

That which prepares for Old Age, prepares for the
termination of life at ^ny age. It is decreed that every
human life shall close ; and most close early. To go
suddenly and unprepared into that shadow is fearful.
Does not wisdom commend this famihar, trustful, filial
waiting upon God? The judicious and eloquent Sau-
RiN wished that he might in every sermon make some
allusion to Death, because he had remarked how uni-
versally this consideration was affecting to the mind.
The Father of our spirits meant that it should be thus.
Endm-e the contemplation long enough to chill carnal

YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 453

ardours and dispel the juvenile mirage. Even in pros-
])erity wait on the Lord.

It would be treachery in me to conceal altogether
tlie woe and peril of a Christless Old Age. Horrid
anomaly ! So dead to this world's pleasures, so near to
heaven or hell, and yet unconcerned. Tottering on his
staff, the impenitent veteran in the camp of Satan blun-
ders on, ah'eady half gone, and stupidly improvident as
to the only means of dying well. 0, poor old man !
let me in affection and pity cry to you, seize on that
only medicine which gives everlasting youth ! Attach
yourself, by acquiescing in his free redemption, to that
Saviour whom we are authorized to offer to the worst
and oldest.

THE END.

DATE DUE

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