Skip to main content

Full text of "The American preacher, or, A collection of sermons from some of the most eminent preachers, now living in the United States : of different denominations in the Christian Church"

See other formats


THE 


AMERICA,N  Pl^EACHER; 


O    R,       A 


COLLECTION  of  SERMONS 

F  R  O  xM    SOME    OF    T  11  E 

MOST    EMINENT    P  R  E  A  C  H  E  R  9, 

N  O  W    L  I  V  I  N  G, 
IN    THE    UNITED    STATES, 

O    F 

DIFFERENT    DENOMINATIONS 

IN       THE 

CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 


NEVER    BEFORE   PUBLISHED. 


VOLUME    I. 


nm  I   niriw 


ELIZABETH-TOWN,  (New-Jersey) 
Printed  by  SHEPARD    KOLLOCK,  for  the  Editors, 

WHO    HOLD    THE    PRIVILEGE    OF    CoPV-RlGHT. 


M.liCC.-'CCl. 


..ii^- 


"ii^^. 


PREFACE. 

TO  THOSE, who  have  feenthe  plan  and 
circular  letter  fent  abroad  for  the  ex- 
ecution of  this  work,  little  information  will 
he  neceflary ;  but  for  the  information  of 
thofe,  who  have  not  feen  them,  it  may  not 
be  improper,  or  out  of  place,  to  fay — that 
the  following  were  the  objefts  in  view,  and 
thofe  which  were  publifhed  as  the  founda- 
tion and  intention  of  the  work. 

**  I.  To  bring  into  public  view  many  ex- 
cellent difcourfes  now  in  manufcript,  pro- 
miffing  great  benefit  to  the  interefts  of  Re- 
ligion. 

''  II.  To  unite  in  one  work  fome  of  the 
beft  performances  of  the  day,  as  a  fpecimen 
of  the  pulpit  talents  of  the  time. 

"  III.  By  uniting  the  feveral  moft  impor- 
tant religious  denominations  in  one  work, 
to  open  the  door  for  the  more  extenfive 
exercife  of  Christian  Charity  among 
Christian  Brethren. 

"  IV.  To  afford  Chriiftan  families  a  com- 
pendium of  Chriltian  inftruftion. 


iv  PREFACE. 

''V.  To  prevent  the  farther  importation 
of  printed  Sermons,  by  encouraging  the 
pubUcations  of  our  own  country." 

Such  were  the  real,  and,  we  truft,  juflifi- 
able  reafons,  by  which  the  public  were  in- 
vited to  encourage  the  plan. 

Besides  the  influence  the  plan  itfelf 
might  be  fuppofed  to  claim,  it  was  fupport- 
ed  by  the  following  recommendation. 

"  Having  duly  conjidered  the  plan  of  the 
"American  Preacher,  now  offered  for 
*'  the  approbation  of  the  public,  we  take  the 
*'  liberty  offgnifying  our  concurreyice  tn  the 
''fame:  not  doubting  but  it  may  well  execute 
^'  the  objects  it  propofes, 

William  Livingston,  Governor  of 
the  State  of  New~Jerfcy. 

George  Clinton,  Governor  of  the 
State  of  New-York. 

William  Samuel  John  son,  Pr<?/fi<f7i^ 
of  Columbia  College,  and  one  of  the  Se- 
nators of  the  United  States. 

Eli  as  Boudinot,  L.  L.  D.  Member 
of  Congrefr 

The  fuccefs  of  the  plan  and  circular  let- 
ter, is  fufficiently  teftified  by  the  exiflencc 


PREFACE.  ^ 

oF  the  work  in  its  prefent  form,  as  well  as 
by  the  refpeftable   lift  of  fubfcribers  who 

have  fupported  it. 

ii 

It  is  not  pretended  that  all  the  preachers 
of  the  Gofpel  in  the  United  States,  who  are 
juftly  entitled  to  diftinftion,  both  for  the 
purity  of  their  doftrines,  and  elegance  in 
ftyle,  are  among  the  number  of  thofe  who 
have  fupported  this  work :  but  we  believe, 
that  thofe  who  appear  in  the  following  pa- 
ges, will  be  pronounced  to  have  well  fup- 
ported the  caufe  they  were  fo  indulgent  as 
to  undertake. 

Such  has  been  the  reception  of  our  plan 
in  the  prefent  inftance,  that  we  feel  our- 
felves  juftified  in  announcing  to  the  public, 
a  FOURTH  VOLUME;  and,  in  a  word,  a  suc- 
cession of  volumes,  fo  long  as  the  prefent 
difpofition  to  encourage  the  work  fnall  con- 
tinue. 

In  fupport  of  this  plan  we  plead  an  incli- 
nation, more  fully,  to  execute  the  objefts 
juft  now  recited,  as  giving  origin  to  the 
work ;  and  we  add,  a  defire: 

L  To  form  fuch  a  colleclion  of  difcourfes, 
as  may  amount  to  a  fyftem  of  Chrillian 
faith  and  pra6lice. 


vi  PREFACE. 

II.  By  this  fyftem  to  raife  an  oppofition 
to  error  and  herefy  of  every  kind. 

III.  To  direft  the  prefent  prevailing  dif- 
pofition  to  liberality  in  matters  of  religion, 
into  a  proper  channel;  and  open  the  door, 
for  Chriftian  communion,  upon  principles 

ACKNOWLE|:)GED  and  UNDERSTOOD. 

IV.  To  lay  a  foundation  for  the  univer- 
fal  agreement  of  the  Chriftian  Church, 
when  the  highprofpefts  of  futurity  fhallbe 
unfolded. 

We  pretend  not  to  a  fpirit  of  prophecy, 
but  find  a  willingnefs  to  hazard  a  conjec- 
ture, that,  under  the  fupreme  and  fuperin- 
tending  providence  of  God,  fome  fuch 
fmall  beginnings  or  dawnings  of  light,  may, 
eventually,  be  confidered  as  announcing 
the  approach  of  Meridian  Day. 

We  are  not  backward  to  fay,  that  fuch 
religious  union,  and  influence  as  this  work 
labors  to  accomplifti,  will  add  no  fmall  dig- 
nity and  SUPPORT  to  the  political  in- 
ter e  s  t  s  of  our  country.  To  the  influence 
of  law,  it  will  add  the  energy  of  confcience 
and  moral  duty;  to  the  fubje6i,itwill  admi- 
nifter  fafety  and  proteftion  from  the  en- 
.croachments  of  arbitrary  power;  and  to 


.!>    R    E    F    A    C    E.  vii 

all  under  its  influence,  will  flied  the  richeft 
of  CIVIL  and  social  blelTings.* 

With  the  deepell  veneration,  v/e  dedi- 
cate our  labors,  and  thofe  of  our  brethren, 

to  the  GOOD  PROVIDENCE  of  AlMIGHTY 

Gob,  and  to  the  patronage  of  the  pioirs 
of  every  denomination,  into  whofe  hands 
this  work  may  come — trufting,  that  thofe 
who  favor  it,  will,  in  the  perufal,  find  their 

*  **  A  tranfient  view  of  thofe  jdates  and  kingdonis,  which  have 
**  made  the  moll  ftriking  figure  in  the  hiftory  of  the  world,  and 
"  which  have  been  moll  renowned  for  the  felicity  of  their  govern- 
*'  ment.  v/ill  convince  us  that  Religion  was  by  them,  always,  cdn- 
**  fidered  as  a  matter  of  great  importance  to  Civil  Society. 

"  The  greatell  politicians,  and  moll  celebrated  Icgillators  of  an- 
**  tiquity,  depended  much  on  this,  to  give  lan(5lion  to  tlieir  laws, 
**  and  make  them  operate  with  vigor  and  facility." 

Reese  :  C«  ihs  hifluence  of  Religion  in  Civil  Society. 


« 


"  Oar  holy  Religion,  by  regulating  and  compofing  the  pa/Tions, 
enlightening  and  exalting  the  mind,  and  purifying  and  meliorat- 
ing the  heart,  conduces  in  a  high  degree  to  the  peace  and  well- 
*'  being  of  focial  life :  It  makes  good  men;— from  thence,  the  tranli- 
**  tion  is  eafy  and  natural  to  regular  citizens  and  obedient  fubjeds, 
**  Where  private  virtue  cannot  be  found,  it  is  in  vain  to  look  for 
**  public:  and  laws  are  of  little  efficacy  without  good  example.^* 
Governor  Patterson's  Anf'v^cr  to  the  Congratulatory  Aii'- 
drefs  of  the  Prejbytery  of  NeiM-Briwf'wick. 

**  Another  important  confequencc  of  this  difcovery,  is  an  enlarg- 
**  ed  liberality  of  fentiment  among  men.  The  liberality  to  which 
**  I  refer,  is  dilcernable  in  the  fpirit  of  religious  toleration,  which 
"  fpreads  like  a  flood  over  the  face  of  the  earth.  This  toleration, 
"  when  it  becomes  univerfal,  cannot  but  accomplifh  matters  of  the 
*' highell  importance  to  the  v/ORLD.  Truth  and  reafon  will  then 
"  burll  with  iirefillible  energy  from  the  dark  clouds  of  fuperllition 
**  and  bigotry — difpel  the  mills  of  error  and  abfurdity,  and  bring 
"  the  GREAT  FAMILY  OF  THE  WORLD,  to  an  uniformity  of  religi- 
**  ous  belief  and  vvorlhi p." 

Alfred;  On  the  Progrefs  of  true  Priiidples  cf  Freedom^ 
and  good  Ccicnnncnt^ 


viii  PREFACE. 

attention  amply  rewarded;  and,  in  the  end, 
enjoy  the  high  profpecls  it  permits  them  to 
entertain. 

We  return  our  grateful  acknowledgments 
to  thofe Reverend  Gentlemen  who  have 
contributed  to  the  execution  of  this  work 
thus  far — not  doubting,  that  the  contempla- 
tion of  having  added  fomething  to  the  fup- 
port  of  the  great  truths  of  the  gofpel — of 
having  adminiftered  inflruftion  to  the  igno- 
rant, warning  to  the  impious,  and  edification 
to  the  faints — but  above  all,  the  contempla- 
tion of  having  laid  a  foundation  for  the  pro- 
grefs,  unity,  and  perfe6iion  of  the  kingdom 
of  the  Redeemer,  will  afford  higher  reward 
for  their  fervices,  than  it  is  in  our  power  to 
give. 

In  behalf  of  the  interefts  of  this  work, 
fubfcribe 

to  the  caufe  of  truth,  a  friend, 
and  to  the  public, 
a  devoted  fervant— 


DAVID    AUSTIN. 


jTilzabeih-Tou-n, 
J.m.  J,  1791- 


CONTENT     S. 


SERMON    I. 

On  Miniflerial  Charadlcr  and  Duty. 

By  John  Witherspoon,  D.   D.    L.  L.  D. 
Col.  N.  C.  P. 

2  Cor.  iv.  12. — We  alfo  believe  and  therefore  f peak, 

page  9 

S  E  R  M  O  N    IL 

On  Man  in  his  natural  State. 

By  the  fame. 

Rev.  iii.  17. — Becaufe  thou  fay  eft  I  am  rich  and 
increafed  with  goods,  and  have  need  of  nothing ;  and 
knoweft  not  that  thou  art  wretched,  and  miferable,  and 
poor,  and  blind  and  nailed,  2  7 

SERMON    III. 

An  Inducement  to  come  to  Chrifl. 

By  the  fame. 

The  fubjedl  continued.  43 

b 


X  CONTENTS, 

S  E  R  M  O  N    IV. 

Salvation  of  Sinners,  only  by  the  Blood  of  Jefus. 

By  Alexander  Macwhorter,  D.  D.  Paftor  of  the 
firll  Prefbyterian  Church,  Newark,  New-Jerfey. 

I  Cor.  V.  7. — For  even  Chrijl  our  p  off  over  is  fa- 
crificedfor  us.  57 

SERMON     V. 

The  Influences  of  God  as  a  Sun,  the  great  Confb- 
lation  of  his  People. 

By  the  fame. 
Pfalms  Ixxxiv.  9. — For  the  Lord  God  is  a  fun,     77 

SERMON    VI. 

The  Evil  and  Danger  of  Security  in  Sin. 
By  the  fame- 
Matthew  xxiv.  38,  39. — For  as  in  the  days  that 
were  before  the  floody  they  were  eating  and  drink- 
ingy  marrying  and  giving  in  marriage,  until  the  day 
that  Noah  entered  into  the  ark :  and  knew  not  until  the 
flood  came  and  took  them  all  away :  fo  fhall  alfo  the 
coming  of  the  Son  of  Man  be,  95 

SERMON     VII. 

Growth  in  Grace. 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


By  John  H.  Livingston,  D.  D.  one  of  the  MU 

nifters  of  the  Reformed  Dutch  Church,  New- 
York. 

2  Peter  iii.  1 8. — But  grow  in  grace,         113 

SERMON    VIII. 

The  fubjed  continued. 

By  the  fame.  1 3  ^ 

SERMON    IX. 

A  (landing  Revelation  once  attefted,  the  bcfl:  Evi- 
dence of  a  future  Life. 

By  James  Dana,  D.  D.  Paftorof  the  firft  Conjrre- 

o 

gational  Church,  at  New-Haven,  Connecticut. 

Luke  xvi.  ^i.—If  they  hear  not  Mofes  and  ilye 
prophets  neither  will  they  he  purjiiaded,  though  one 
roje  from  the  dead.  j  5  j 

SERMON    X. 

Chriflian  Morality. 

By  the  lame. 

,  Matthew  vii.  2  8,  2^,— And  it  came  to  pafs  "c^hen 
Jejiish^ad  ended  theje  Jayings,  the  people  were  afioniJJj^ 
ed  at  his  doclrine.  For  he  taught  them  as  one  having 
authority  and  not  as  thejcrihcs.  1 87 


xii  CONTENTS. 

SERMON    XL 

The  Folly  and  Guilt  of  being  afhamed  of  Chrifl. 

By  Samuel  S.  Smith,  D.  D.  Col.  N.  C.  V.  P. 

et  S.  T.  P. 

Mark  viii.  38. — Whofoever  Jhall  be  ajbamed  of 
tne  and  of  my  words  in  this  adulterous  and  finful  gene^ 
ration,  of  him  alfo  Jhall  the  Son  of  Man  be  ajhojued, 
vjhen  he  comeih  in  the  glory  of  his  Father  and  zvith  the 
holy  angels.  213 

SERMON    XII. 

On  the  forgivenefs  of  Injuries. 

By  the  fame. 

Matt.  vi.  14. — If  ye  forgive  men  their  trefpaffes, 
your  heavenly  Father  zvlll  alfo  forgive  you,  235 

SERMON    XIII. 

The  fpiritual  Death  and  Life  of  the  Believer. 

By  William  Linn,  D.  D.  one  of  the  Miniflers  of 
'  the  Reformed  Dutch  Church,  New- York. 

Gal.  ii.  20. — I  am  crucified  with  Chrijl:  ncverihe- 
tefs  I  live,  yet  not  /,  but  Chriji  liveth  in  me :  and  the 
life  which  Inr/w  live  in  the  flejh,  I  live  by  the  faith  of 
the  Son  of  God  zvho  loved  me,  and  gave  hi wf elf  for  me, 

261 


CONTENTS.  xiii 

SERMON    XIV. 

The  Charadter  and  Mifcry  of  the  Wicked. 

By  the  fame. 

Ifaiah  Ivii.  21. — There  is  720  peace  faith  my  God, 
to  the  wicked,  2?  5 

SERMON    XV. 
The  fubjedl  continued  • 

By  the  fame.  297 

SERMON    XVL 

On  Difobedience. 

By  Benjamin  Moore,  one  of  the  Miniflers  of  the 
Epifcopal  Church,  New- York. 

Genefis  iii.  6. — And  when  the  woman  faw  that  the 

tree  was  good  for  food,  and  that  it  was  pleafant  to  the 
eyes,  and  a  tree  to  he  dc fired  to  make  one  wife^fhe  took 
of  the  fruit  thereof  and  did  eat:  and  gave  alfo  unto  her 
hufband  and  he  did  eat,  315 

SERMON    XVII. 

On  the  forgetfulnefs  of  our  Sins. 

By  Bryan  Fairfax,  Minider  of  the  Epifcopal 
Church,  Alexandria,  Virginia. 


xiv  CONTENTS. 

Hofea  vii.  2. — And  they  confider  not  in  their  hearts 
that  I  remember  all  their  wickednefs,  i^i'j 


SERMON    XVIIL 

The  Nature  and  Advantage  of  the  Fear  of  the 

Lord. 

By  John  Rodgers,  D.  D.  one  of  the  Minifters  of 
the  United  Prefbyterian  Church,  in  New- York. 

Prov.  xxiii.  17. — Be  thou  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord 
all  the  day  long,  339 


SERMON    XIX. 

The  Pleafantnefs  of  True  Religion. 

By  Nathan  Perkins,  A.  M.  Minifter  of  a  Con- 
gregational Church,  Hartford,  Weft  Diviiion, 
Connecticut. 

Matt.  xi.  30. — For  my  yoke  is  eafy  and  my  burden 
is  light.  355 

SERMON    XX. 

Death  the  Chriftian's  Gain. 

By  Thomas  Reese,  A.  M.  Minifler  of  a  Prefby- 
terian Congregation,  Salem,  South-Carolina. 

Philippians  i.  21. — To  die  is  gain.  375 


'&''■ 


SERMON       I. 

ON 

MINISTERIAL  CHARACTER  and  DUTY- 

BY 

JOHN  PFITHERSPOON,D.D.L.UD. 

Col.  N.  C.  P. 


BBHm 


2    C  o  R.     iv.  13, 

fVe  alfo  believe,  and  therefore  /peak. 
J..     ,     ,       .    .       .,...,-,•, 

TO  underftand  what  ought  to  be  the  cha- 
radler,  and  what  principles  fhould  animate 
the  condudt  of  a  Miniftcr  of  the  Gofpel, 
cannot  be^vithout  profit,  even  to  a  private  Chriftian, 
It  will  teach  him  whom  to  prefer,  when  he  is  called, 
in  providence,  to  make  a  choice.  It  will  teach  him 
to  hold  fuch  in  reputation  for  their  office- fake,  and 
to  improve  the  privilege  of  a  regular  gofpel  miniftry, 
if  he  himfelf  is  favored  with  it.  And  I  think  it 
muft  incline  him  to  make  daily  fupplication  to  the 
Lord  of  the  harvefl,  to  fend  forth  faithful  laborers 
into  his  harvefl» 

But  though  there  were  no  fuch  general  advantage 
to  be  derived  from  it,  my  particular  charge,  and  the 
very  afped:  of  this  audience,  would  eafily  juflify  me; 
in  making  this,  for  once,  the  immediate  fubjed  of 
•lifcourfe.  A 


lo  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

Now  if  we  would  know  the  chara(!ler  of  a  faithful 
Minider,  we  cannot  better,  or  more  immediately 
reach  our  purpofe,  than  by  looking  into  the  charadter, 
and  obferving  the  conduct,  and  fprings  of  adlion,  of 
the  Apoftles  of  our  Lord,  who  received  their  corn- 
millions  immediately  from  himfelf,  and  were  not  on- 
ly the  firfl,  but  the  beft  and  mofl:  fuccefsful  Minift- 
ers>  that  ever  were  employed  in  the  church  of  Chrifl. 

The  Apoftle  Paul,  whofe  call  was  fo  lingular,  and 
whofe  labors  were  fo  diftinguifhed,  has,  in  his  EpiC- 
tles  to  thefeveral  churches,  planted  or  watered  by  him, 
givenus  a  great  light  into  the  chief  aims  he  had  in  the 
exercife  of  the  miniftry.  In  this  chapter,  and  the  pre- 
ceding part  of  this  Epillle,  hefhews  the  Corinthians, 
with  what  vifible  faithfulnefs  and  fmcerity  he  had 
adied,  and  what  diligence  he  had  ufed  in  promoting 
their  eternal  happinefs. 

To  fave  time,  I  forbear  going  through  die  connec- 
tion of  his  difcourfe  and  only  obferve,  that  in  the 
wordsof  our  text,  he  fliows  what  kept  him  faithful  and 
influenced  him  to  fo  much  diligence  in  the  work  to 
which  he  was  called,  by  alluding  to  an  expreflion  in 
the  1 1 6th  Pfalm.  It  is^written,  I  have  believed,  there- 
fore have  Ifpoken.  -We  alfo  believe  y  and  therefore  fpeak» 
In  this  he  intimates,  that  our  inward  perfuafion  of 
the  great  truths  of  the  evcrlafling  Gofpel,  could  not 
but  have  a  powerful  influence  upon  him  and  others, 
to  prcfs  the  important  mcfiage,  and  w^atch  over  the 
fouls  of  thofe  committed  to  their  charge. 

In  difcourfing  furrherat  this  time,  I  intend  to  con- 
fine myfelf  to  this  lingle  truth,  which  may  be  eafily 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  1 1 

deduced  from  the  text:  That  one  of  the  mod  cdQii' 
tially  necelTary,  and  the  moR"  extenlivcly  ufcfiil 
quahfications  of  a  good  Minifter,  is,  that  he  be  a 
good  man,  that  he  have  a  firm  belief  of  that  Gofpel 
he  is  called  to  preach,  and  a  lively  fenfe  of  religion 
upon  his  own  heart.  After  I  fhall  have  explained 
and  confirmed  this  obfervation,  I  will  conclude  with 
fome  practical  reflediions. 

Though  I  havfe  mentioned  real  religion  as  one  of 
the  mofl  effentially  necefTary  qualifications,  I  am  not 
ignorant,  that  taking  the  words  in  a  ftricl  fenfe, 
gifts  are  more  necefTary  to  the  being  of  the  miniflry 
than  even  grace  itfelf.  To  make  the  efficacy  of  the 
ordinances  to  depend  upon  the  inward  ftate  of  the 
adminiflrator,  is  a  Popifli  error,  and  is  exprcfsly 
guarded  againfl  by  the  AfTembly  of  Divines,  in  our 
fhorter  Catechifms,  in  the  following  words  :  T'h^ 
Sacraments,  and  it  is  equally  true  of  every  other  or- 
dinance, become  effectual  to  Salvation,  ?tot  from  any  vir^ 
iue  in  theniy  or  in  him  that  doth  adminijler  them,  but  on- 
ly by  the  blejjlng  of  Chrifty  and  the  'working  of  his  fpirit 
in  thenty  that  by  faith  receive  them. 

But  fome  degree  of  capacity  is  evidently  neceflary 
in  the  mofl  abfolute  fenfe.  A  man  who  is  altogether 
\oid  of  knowledge  and  utterance,  or  who  is  deaf  and 
dumb,  may  be  a  faint,  but  cannot  be  a  Minifter. 
This  concefHon,  however,  takes  nothing  from  the 
force  of  the  obfervation,  that  real  Religion  is  of  the 
greateft  importance,  and  moft  ablblutcly  necefTary  to 
the  faithful  difcharge  of  a  Minifier's  facred  trufl. 
That  1  may  fet  this  in  as  clear  and  (Irong  a  light  as  I 


12  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

am  able,  let  me  intreat  your  attention  to  the  follow- 
ing obfervations : 

I.  Real  Religion  in  a  Minifrer  will  make  him 
knowing,  and  able  for  his  work.  It  is  necelTary  for 
any  one  who  intends  himfelf  for  the  office  of  the 
minif^ry,  by  diligent  fludy,  and  the  ufe  of  thofe 
means,  wir'h  which  God  in  his  Providence  hath  fur- 
nifhed  him,  to  improve  his  underftanding  and  acquire 
a  flock  of  knowledge,  that  he  may  be  a  workman 
that  needeth  liot  to  be  aihamed,  rightly  dividing  the 
word  of  truth.  In  this  he  can  have  no  fuch  incite- 
ment as  concern  for  his  Mafter's  Glory.  Nay,  he 
that  is  truly  religious,  is  taught  of  God  the  beft  of 
Mailer's,  and  will  have  fomc  of  his  mod  profitable 
lefTons  from  his  own  experience.       - 

Let  me  the  rather  intreat  your  attention  to  this, 
that  thcfe  who  are  moft  apt  to  difparage  piety  are  al- 
fo  apt  to  fpeak  in  terms  of  high  approbation  on  the 
fubjed:  of  literature  and  fcience — ObferveJ  therefore, 
that  true  religion  ferves  both  to  give  a  man  that  know- 
ledge which  is  ncceflary  to  a  Minifter,  and  to  dire6l 
and  turn  into  its  proper  channel  the  knowledge  whicK 
he  may  othcrwife  acquire.  It  is  an  approved  maxim 
in  every  fcience,  that  practical  and  experimental 
knowledge  far  exceeds  that  which  is  merely  fpecula- 
live;  at  leafli  tho*  the  lad  may  make  the  prettiefl 
fliow,  the  firfl,  is  by  much  to  be  preferred  for  ufe. 
Any  wife  m:m,  if  he  was  to  go  a  dangerous  voyage, 
would  readily  prefer  as  his  pilot,  one,  who  had  much 
experience,  and  had  failed  often  that  way  himfelf,  to 
^nc^  who  had  fludied  navigation  in  the  moil  pcrfecj 


jyiTHERSPOON,  13 

manner  afhore.  So,  my  brethren,  every  man  who 
regards  his  foul  would  choofe  for  his  Jpiritual  guide, 
one,  who  appears  to  have  the  wifdom  to  fave  his  o\vn> 
and  would  expe6l  by  him  to  be  beft  diredcd,  how  to 
avoid  the  rocks  and  (helves  in  his  pafTage,  thro'  this 
dangerous  and  tempeftuous  ocean  of  life. 

But  if  this  maxim  holds  true  in  other  fcience,  it 
holds  yet  more  ftrongly  in  Religion,  which  cannot  be 
truly  known  unlefs  it  be  fch.     There  is  an  infepa- 
rable  connexion  between  faith  and  practice,  truth 
and  duty ;  and  therefore  he  that  is  a  ftranger  to  the 
One,  is  ignorant  of  the  other.     I  am  not  infenfible 
that  a  bad  man  may  efpoufe,  and  plead  for  a  great 
part  of  the  fyftem  of  divine  truth;  but  as  he  cannot 
cordially  embrace  it,  fo  I  am  inclined  to  think  that 
he  never  truly  underftands  it. '  The  Apoftle  Paul  de- 
clares, that  it  is  only  by  the  Spirit  of  God  which  i» 
given  to  every  real  Chriflian,  and  more  efpecially  to 
every  faithful  Minifter,  that  a  mart  is  enabled  to 
treat  rightly  of  Divine  Things,  Now  zve  have  receiv-^ 
edy  not  the  Spirit  of  the  fVcrld,  but  the  Spirit  which  is  of 
Gody  that  we  mighj  knozv  the  things  that  are  freely  given 
to  us  of  God;  which  things  zve  fpeak^  not  in  the  words 
which  mans  wifdom  teachethy  hut  which  the  Holy  Ghojl 
ieacheth^  comparing  fpiritual  ihings  with fpirituaL     But 
the  natural  man  receiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of 
God,  for  they  are  foolifhnefs  unto  him,  neither  can  he 
know  them  for  they  are  fpiriiually  difcerned.     As  the 
real  Chriftian  from  that  character  is  bell  difpofed  to 
feek  after,  fo  he  is  by  the  fame  means  bed:  fitted  to 
improve  and  apply  his  knowledge  of  fpiritual  things. 
This  will  appear,  if  v/e  coniider  what  ought  to  be  the 


14  WITHERSPOON. 

great  work  of  a  Minifter.     He  hath  to  do  chiefly 
with  the  hearts  and  confciences  of  his  people.     His 
bufinefs  is  to  convince  the  ungodly ;  to  awaken  the 
fccure;   to  enlighten  the  ignorant;    to  dired  and 
ftrengthen  the  weak  in  the  faith,  and  in  general  as 
a  wife  phyfician,  to  adminifter  the  medicine  proper 
to  the  various  conditions  and  diforders  of  his  hearers. 
Now  it  mufl,  at  firft  fight,  appear,  that  he  who  is  a 
ftranger  to  the  power  of  godlinefs,  and  knows  no- 
thing of  the  fpiritual  life  himfelf,  mufl  be  utterly  un- 
fit for  difcerning  hov/  it  thrives,  or  alTiftingand  pro- 
moting it  in  others.     That  man  mufl  furely  be  moft 
powerful  in  fearching,  and  moil  fkilful  in  guiding 
the  confciences  of  others,  who  has  been  accuftomed 
to  examine  and  diredl  his  own. 

I  only  farther  obferve  upon  this  particular,  that 
true  Religion  will  purify,  and  direct  into  its  proper 
channel,  the  knowledge  he  may  otherwife  acquire. 
It  is  a  great  midake  to  think,  found  learning  is  an 
enemy  to  Religion,  and  to  fuppofe  that  an  ignorant 
miniftry  is  the  befl:  or  fafefl.  There  is  no  branch  of 
human  knowledge  of  which  a  Divine  may  not  be  the 
better,  or  which  a  good  man  will  not  improve  to  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  others ;  tho'  fome  of 
them  are  more  important  than  others;  and  it  is  ne- 
ceiTary  to  give  to  any  of  them,  only  fuch  proportion 
of  our  time,  as  is  coniiftent  with  our  great  and  princi- 
pal aim.  Now  true  Religion  is  the  great  preferva- 
tive  againft  miftake  orabufe  of  any  kind  on  this  fub- 
jcct.  A  bad  man  is  apt  to  liudy,  merely  to  gratify 
his  own  fancy;  and  there  is  a  falfe  luxury  and  delica- 
cy in  feeding  the  mind  as  well  as  the  body      \  bad 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  ij 

man  is  alfo  exceedingly  prone  to  inteliedual  pride 
and  felf-fufficiency  ;  than  which,  there  is  not  a  vice 
more  dangerous  in  itfelf,  or  more  contrary  to  the 
chara6ler  of  a  Minifter  of  the  New  Teftament.  But 
he  who  is  fandified  by  Divine  Grace,  as  he  has  every 
motive  to  diligence  in  acquiring  knowledge,  fo  the 
fingle  purpofe  to  which  he  will  wifh  to  apply  it,  i» 
to  fcrve  God  in  the  Gofpel  of  his  Son. 

II.  Real  Religion  in  a  Minifter  will  make  him 
happy  andchearful,  ready  and  willing  to  do  his  duty. 
There  is  a  great  difference  between  the  prompt,  and 
Ipeedy  obedience  of  a  fervant  who  loves  his  mafter 
and  his  work,  and  the  reludiant  labor-  of  him  who 
only  deceives  him,  that  he  may  cat  of  his  bread.  A 
truly  pious  man  undertakes  the  office  of  the  miniftry 
from  love  to  God,  with  a  view  to  promote  his  glory, 
and  what  he  hath  counted  his  intereft  in  the  world  : 
viz.  the  welfare  of  the  fouls  of  men.  An  unholy 
Minifter  undertakes  this  employment  only  as  a  trade 
to  earn  by,  and  has  it  at  leafl  as  his  highefl  aim  to 
promote  his  own  worldly  advantage.  It  is  eafy  to 
fee  in  w^hat  a  different  manner  thefe  different  pcrfon« 
will  acft,  and  in  what  different  light  they  will  view 
the  facred  duties  of  their  fundion.  He  who  truly 
believes  the  Gofpel  and  loves  its  Author,  will  reckon 
it  his  highefl  honor  when  he  is  called  to  recommend 
it  to  the  belief  of  others.  He  will  be  apt  to  teach, 
and  will  find  a  pleafure  in  carrying  his  meffage;  be- 
fides  the  reward  he  expeds  from  him  who  employs 
him,  and  will  undergo  with  chearfulnefs  every  fa- 
tigue he  is  fubjeded  to,  in  the  execution  of  his  office. 
Oil  tlic  other  hand,  he  who  is  actuated  by  a  contrary 


iS  WITHERSPObN. 

principle,  tho'  he  is  obliged,  that  he  may  raife  his 
wages,  in  fome  fort  to  do  his  duty ;  yet  how  heavily 
mud  it  go  on,  how  tedious  and  burthenfome  mud  it 
be,  both  in  preparation  and  performance  ?  He  will 
count  his  lerVice  at  the  Altar,  and  his  work  among 
his  people,  as  a  toil  and  drudgery,  and  reckon  all 
that  redeemed  time  that  he  can  fave  for  himfelfjfrom 
the  duties  of  his  office. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  thought  that  there  lies  a  (Irong 
objection  againft  this  obfervation  from  experience  ; 
as  it  appears  that  fuch  Minidcrs  as  have  lead  of  Re- 
ligion, commonly  go  mod  lightly  under  the  charge, 
and  are  far  from  feeling  any  burthen  \r\  what  is 
<:ommitted  to  them;  whereas  the  mod  pious  and 
faithful  Miniders  feem  to  have  a  weight  upon  their 
fpirits,  and  fuch  a  concern  for  the  falvation  of  their 
people,  as  cannot  but  take  much  from  their  chearful- 
nefs  in  the  work  to  which  they  are  called.  In  an- 
fvvcr  to  this,  obferve,  that  an  unfaithful  Minider  is 
not  eafy  and  chearful  becaufe  his  v.ork  is  agreeable 
to  him,  but  becaufe  he  takes  as  little  of  it  as  niay  be, 
and  feeks  his  pleafure  more  than  his  duty.  Certain 
it  is,  that  the  work  of  the  minidry  mud  be  irkfomc 
j;nd  uneafy  to  him  that  believes  not,  except  fo  far  as 
he  makes  it  fubfcrvient  to  ambition,  and  difplays  his 
own  talents  when  he  diould  be  feeding  his  people's 
fouls.  This  I  confefs,  which  the  Apodle  judly  calls 
preaching  ourfelves,  may  be  abundantly  gratifying 
to  the  mod  corrupt  heart.  On  the  other  hand,  that 
concern  for  his  people  which  is  upon  the  heart  of 
every  faithful  paftor,  is  far  from  being  inconddent 
with  the  mod  folid  peace  and  dedrable  pleafure  arif* 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  17 

ing  from  the  difcharge  of  his  duty.     It  is  like  the 
excrcife  of  pity  and  compaffion  to  the  diflrelTed,  iri 
him,  who  is  acfting  for  their  relief,  which,  though  in 
fome  fcnfe  painful,  is  yet  accompanied  with  the  ap- 
probation of  God,  and  confcience,  as  flowing  from  a 
rightly  difpofed  mind,  and  therefore  to  be  cherilhed 
and  cultivated  rather  than  fupprefled.     There  is  a 
time  for  every  good  man  to  mourn,  and  a  time  to  re- 
joice, and  perhaps  the  one  is  even  more  falutary  than 
the  other;  for  we  are  told,  that  God  will  appoint  un- 
to them  that  mourn  in  Zion,  io  give  unto  'them  beauty 
for  ajhesy  the  oyl  of  joy  for  mournings  and  the  garment 
of  fraife  for  the  fpirit  of  heavinefs. 

III.  Real  Religion  in  a  Minifter  will  make  him 
faithful,  and  impartial,  in  the  difcharge  of  his  trufl. 
The  God  in  whofe  prefence  we  ftand,  and  in  whofe 
name  we  fpeak,  is  no  refpcdler  of  perfons,  and  nei- 
ther iliould  we  be  in  doing  his  work.  There  is  com- 
monly a  great  variety  of  perfons,  of  different  Nations 
and  of  different  characters,  committed  to  the  infpec- 
tion  of  a  Minifler ;  the  pleafing  or  difplealing  of 
whom,  has  a  conliderable  influence  in  his  worldly 
cafe  and  intereft.  This  is  a  great  temptation  to  be 
unfaithful,  and  often  leads  to  fpcak  unto  them 
fmooth  things,  and  prophecy  deceit ;  or  at  lead,  not  to 
deal  with  all  that  freedom  and  impartiality,  that  his 
duty  to  God  requires.  In  every  unrcgenerate  man, 
worldly  intereft  in  one  fliape  or  another,  either  va- 
nity or  gain,  is  the  fupreme  motive  of  aiflion :  And 
therefore,  as  moft  men  are  impatient  of  reproof,  it 
cannot  be  fuppofcd,   that  an  unfandifacd  Miniftcr 

B 


1$  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

will  venture  to  provoke  their  difpleafure,  or  to  gall 
them  with  unacceptable  truths.     The  favor  of  the 
great,  or  the  applaufe  of  the  multitude,  he   certainly 
will  feek,  more  than  the  edification  of  any.     On  the 
other  hand,  he  who  truly  fears  God  and  believes  what 
he  teaches,  will  ad  with  faithtulncfs  and  boldnefs. 
He  will  remember  that  if  he  feeks  to  pleafe  men,  he 
cannot  be  the  fervant  of  Chriil:.     He  will  therefore 
no  farther  obtain,  and  indeed  no  farther  wifh  to  ob- 
tain their  favor,  than  as  a  diligent  difcharge  of  his 
duty  approves  him  to  their  confciences  in  the  light 
of  God;  or  forces  the  approbation  of  the  impartial, 
notvvithilanding  the  refentment  of  particular  offen- 
ders.    It  is  only  the  fear  of  God,  can  deliver  us  from 
the  fear  of  man.     I  do  not  pretend  that  all  who  fear 
God,  are  wholly  delivered  from  it:  but  furely,  bad 
men,  mufl  be  far  more  under  the  government  of  this 
finful  principle.     The  one  may  fail  occafionally,  the 
other  is  corrupted  wholly.     There  are  two  reafons 
which  incline  me  particularly  to  infifV  on  that  faith- 
fulnefs,  which  can  only  flow  from  true  piety. 

1.  That  preaching,  in  order  to  be  ufeful,  mud  be 
very  particular,  and  clofe,  in  the  application.  Gene- 
ral truths  and  abftrad  reafoning  have  little  or  no  in- 
fluence upon  the  hearers,  as  the  ignorant  cannot,  and 
the  wife  will  nor,  apply  them  to  themfelves. 

2.  The  other  rcafon  is,  that  private  admonition, 
and  perfonal  reproof,  are  a  great  part  of  a  Minifter's 
duty,  and  a  duty  that  cannot  be  performed  by  any 
man,  who  hath  not  a  fteady  regard  to  the  prefencc 
and  command  of  that  God,  who  hath  fct  him  to 
watch  for  the  fouls  of  his  people,  as  one  that  mufl: 
give  an  accounts 


WITHERSPOON.  19 

IV.  Real  Religion  in  a  Minifter,  will  make  him 
adlive,  and  laborious  in  his  work.  Diligence  is  abfo- 
lutely  necellary,  to  the  right  difchargeof  the  pafvoral 
duties,  whether  public  or  private.  It  requires  no 
fmall  attention  and  labor,  to  feek  out  fit  and  accepta- 
ble words,  as  the  preacher  exprefTes  it,  to  ftir  up  the 
attention  of  the  incon(iderate,  to  awaken  fecure,  and 
convince  obftinate  fmners,  to  unmafk  the  covered 
hearts  of  hypocrites,  to  fet  right  the  erring,  and  en- 
courage the  fearful.  An  unbelieving  Minifter,  muft 
be  carelefs  and  Hothful.  As  he  is  unconcerned  a- 
bout  the  fuccefs  of  his  Avork;  he  cannot  have  any 
great  concern  about  the  manner  of  performance. 
But  he,  who  believes  the  unfpeakable  importance  of 
what  he  is  employed  about,  both  to  himfelf,  and  to 
his  people,  cannot  fail  to  be  diligent.  He  knows 
that  he  himfelf  mull  anfwer  to  God,  for  the  care  he 
has  taken  of  the  fouls  committed  to  his  charge  ;  and 
that  if  he  does  not  faithfully  warn  the  wicked  to  turn 
from  their  ways,  their  blood  will  be  required  at  his 
hand. 

Oh !  my  brethren,  what  a  flriking  confideration  is 
this,  to  fuppofe  ourfelvcs  interrogated  by  the  Su- 
preme Judge,  concerning  every  linner  under  our 
charge  ?  Did  you  earneftly  warn  this  unhappy  foul, 
by  earned  exhortations  in  public,  and  by  ferious  af- 
tedlionate  expoftulations  in  private,  to  confider  his 
v/ays  ?  It  is  an  cafy  thing,  by  a  partial,  or  curfory 
performance  of  our  duty,  to  fcrcen  ourfelves  from 
the  cenfure  of  our  fellow-men;  but  to  liand  at  the 
judgment  feat  of  Chrill:,  and  aniwer  there  for  our  di- 
ligence, is  a  more  awful  trial. 


::o  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

Will  not  alfo  a  concern  for  his  people's  intcrefT, 
animate  a  pious  Minifler  to  cjiligence  ?  If  he  is  truly- 
pious,  as  he  loves  God,  he  loves  liis  brother  alfo. 
The  Apolilc  Paul  fays.  Knowing  therefore  the  terror  of 
the  Lordy  we  per/uade  men.  If  a  man  in  good  carneft, 
believes,  that  everlafling  mifery  mult  be  the  portion 
of  all  who  die  in  an  unrenewed  flate  ;  what  pain$  will 
he  not  take,  to  prevent  fiiiners  from  going  to  that 
place  of  torment  ? 

One  who  could  fee  a  fellow-creature,  in  the  rage 
of  a  fever,  rufhing  to  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  and 
not  reftrain  him,  would  fall  under  lading  infamy- 
Mud  not  the  flime  compadlon  move  the  heart  of  a 
ferious  perfon,  who  {^t^  his  fellow-linners,  going 
blindfold  to  the  pit  of  perdition  ? 

It  is  their  not  believing  thefe  things,  that  makes 
them  fo  fjarlefs  in  fmning;  if  you  truly  believe  them, 
V'ill  you  not  make  an  edbrt  to  alarm  them  ?  There 
j^re  no  motives  like  thefe  to  diligence — he  that  be- 
lieves, wdll  certainly  fpeak. 

V.  In  the  lad  place,  real  Religion,  will  make  a  Mi- 
nidcr  fuccefsful  in  his  work.  This  it  does,  both  as 
it  fits  him  fordoing  his  duty  to  his  people,  which  has 
been  illudratcd  above,  and  as  it  adds  to  his  precepts, 
the  force  of  his  example.  Fird,  it  makes  him  fuccefs- 
ful as  it  lits  him  for  his  duty.  It  is  true  indeed,  that 
God  only  can  give  the  blcfiing  upon  a  Minidcr's  la- 
bors, and  that  he  can  fave  by  many,  or  by  few,  by  the 
weaked,  as  well  as  by  the  abled  indrument :  yet  we 
fee  from  experience,  that  in  all  ordinary  cafes,  he 
proportions  the  fucccfs,  to  the  propriety,  or  fu dicicn- 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  at 

cy  of  the  means.     Neither  is  there  any  furer  mark, 
that  God  intends  effedlual  benefit  to  any  part  of  the 
world,  or  the  church,  than  when  he  raifes,  and  com-^ 
mi'fTions  men,  eminently  qualified,  to  plead  hiscaufe. 
Therefore,  real  piety,  even  in  this  refped;,  contributes 
to  a  Minifler's  fuccefs.     If  diligence  in  all  other- 
things  produces  fuccefs,  it  muft  be  fo  alfo  in  the  mi- 
niftry.     If  he  that  lays  out  his  gjound  with  the  great- 
eft  judgment,  prepares  and  drcffes  it  with  the  great- 
eft  care,  has  the  moft  plentiful  crop  :  if  the  flicpherd 
that  waits  moft  diligently  upon  his  flock,  feeds  them 
in  the  beft  pafture,  and  leads  them  to  the  fafeft  ftiel- 
ter,  has  the  moft  increafc ;  then  that  Minifter,  who 
does  his  duty  moft  wifely,  and  moft  powerfully,  will 
alfo  fee  moft  of  the  fruit  of  his  labors. 

But  real,  and  unafteded,  yet  viftble  ferlpufnefs, 
has  alfo  its  own  proper  additional  influence  on  a  Mi- 
nifter's  fuccefs.  An  apparent  and  vifible  imprcflion 
upon  the  fpcaker's  mind,  of  what  he  fays,  gives  it  an 
inexprefTible  weight  with  the  hearers.  There  is  a 
piercing  heat,  a  penetrating  force,  in  that  which 
flows  from  the  heart,  which  diftinguifties  it  not  only 
from  the  coldnefs  of  indifference,  but  alfo,  from  the 
falfe  fire  of  enthufiafm  or  vain  glory.  Befidcs  all 
this,  the  example  of  a  pious  Minifter,  is  a  conftant 
inftruclion  to  his  people.  It  ratifies  his  dodrine, 
while  he  not  only  charges  them  to  do  what  he  fays, 
but  to  be  what  he  is.  This  will  receive  much  illuf- 
trarion  from  its  contrary. 

A  Minifler  who  has  a  carelefs,  untender  walk,  de- 
^ats,  by  his  life,  the  intent  of  his  preaching.  Though 
in  rcafon,  it  cannot  juftify  any  one  in  difobcying. 


^2  WIT  HE  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

wholefome  inftrudions ;  that  the  inftrucloi  defpife* 
them  himfclf ;  yet  it  is  one  of  the  mod  common  cx- 
cufcs  men  make  for  themfelves^  and  few  cxcufcs 
leem  to  fet  their  confciences  more  at  eafe.  Loofc 
and  carelefs  perfons,  think  thcmfclves  quite  at  liber- 
ty to  defpife  the  reproofs  of  their  paftor,  if^  while  he 
teaches  others,  he  teaches  not  himfelf. 

Nay,  not  only  is  it  thus  with  the  profane,  but  even 
thofe  who  have  the  grcatcft  regard  for  Religion,  arc 
not  fo  much  afFeded  with  the  fame  truths,  when 
fpoken  by  one  they  think  indifferent  about  them,  as 
when  fpoken  by  one,  who  feems  to  feel  what  he 
fpeaks,  and  who  lives  as  he  teaches. 

Experience  greatly  confirms  the  whole  of  this  rea- 
foning — for  wherever  an  eminently  pious  Minifter 
has  lived,  and  labored  long,  there  is  commonly  to  be 
found  the  moil  knowing,  lerious,  fober-mindcd,  and 
judicious  people  ;  nay,  the  very  memory  of  fuch  a 
Minifter,  is  often  long  continued,  after  he  is  gone, 
and  his  example  is  propofcd  by  his  hearers,  to  their 
children's  children. 

From  all  thefc  confidcrations,  I  conclude,  that  the 
molt  important  qualification  of  a  good  Minifter,  is, 
to  be  a  believing  preacher y  and  that,  if  he  favcs  his 
own  foul,  he  will  be  the  probable  mean  of  faving 
them  that  hear  him. 

I  proceed  now,  to  make  fomc  improvement  of  the 
fubjetfl. 

Reverend  fathers  and  brethren. 

As  we  would  widi  our  people  to  do,  let  us  take 
heed  hov;  \vc  hear,  and  make  a  faithful  applicatioa 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  23 

to  ourfelves,  of  what  hath  been  faid  upon  ^he  fub- 
jed.     Let  it  engage  us  to  a  fcrious  examination  of 
ourfelves,  left  while  we  preach  the  gcfpel  to  others, 
we  ourfelves  fliould  be  reprobates.     This  ought  to 
be  the  fubjedt  of  our  frequent  and  fcrious  thoughts, 
for  feveral  reafons.     We  are  in  danger  of  thinking 
ourfelvTs  too  eafily  fafe,  by  comparing  that  outward 
regularity,  to  which  our  office  itfclf,  even  from  fecu- 
lar  motives,  obliges  us,  with  the  licentious  extrava- 
gance of  profane  finncrs.     We  are  in  danger  of  mif- 
taking  our  frequent  thinking  and  fpeaking  of  the 
things  of  God,  in  the  way  of  our  calling,  for  an  evi- 
dence of  true  Religion,  in  ourfelves.     We  may  al fo, 
perhaps,  miftake  thofe  gifts  with  which  God  hath 
furniilied  us,  for  the  benefit  of  his  own  people,  as  the 
fruits  of  the  fpirit,  and  of  gracious  difpofitions  in  our 
hearts.     A  Minifter,  is  as  much  liable  to  felf-deceit 
as  others,  and  in  fome  rcfpcd:s,  more  fo.     We  have 
therefore  much  need,  often  to  make  trial  of  our  ftate, 
as  well  as  to  give  all  diligence,  to  make  our  calling 
and  election  fure. 

But  let  us  beware  of  imagining,  that  this  difcourfc 
is  only  applicable  to  fuch,  as  have  no  real  faith  in 
Chrift.  God  forbid  1  that  there  were  any  Minifler 
among  us,  a  complete  unbeliever,  counting  the  Gof- 
pel  a  fable-  But  faith,  and  every  other  gracious  dif- 
pofition  grafted  upon  it,  arc  capable  of  many  de- 
grees of  improvement  and  ftrength ;  and  in  propor- 
tion to  the  ftrcngth  of  our  faith,  and  the  imprefiion 
we  have  of  divine  thinsrs,  will  be  our  dilicrcnce.  and 
consequently  our  fuccefs,  in  the  work  of  the  miniftry. 
Let  us  therefore  imprefs  our  minds,  with  a  more  and 


G4  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

more  lively  fcni'c,  of  the  important  truths  which  ^c 
teach  and  hear.  Let  us  not  liarve  ourfelves,  while 
we  are  feeding  others  :  but  ftudy  to  afrive  at-a  greater 
degree  of  love  i:o  God,  and  delight  in  him  ;  a  greater 
conformity  to  his  blelfed  image,  in  purity  of  heart, 
and  Inttgnty  of  life.  Let  us  in  a  fpccial  manner> 
-ftiidy  to  attain  to  more  and  more  intimate  commu- 
nion with  God  in  fecret,  which  is  the  fign  of  our 
"dcpendance  upon  him,  and  the  very  excrcife  of  love 
to  him,  which  is  the  mean  of  conflancy,  and  the 
fource  of  joy  in  Religion. 

Above  all,  let  us  fet  our  affections  upon  the  things 
that  are  above,  where  our  Redeemer  lits,  at  his  fa- 
ther's right  hand.  As  our  profellion  is  to  be  pil- 
grims, and  ftrangers  int  he  earth,  to  live  by  faith,  and 
not  by  iight ;  let  us  fludy,  to  raife  our  hopes  of,  and 
defire  after,  the  heavenly  inheritance.  By  this,  wc 
fhall  not  only  believe,  but  know,  and  feel  the  value 
of  true  Religion,  which  cannot  fail  to  make  us  dili- 
gent in  fceking  the  good  of  others. 

Oh !  my  brethren,  what  reafon  have  we  to  be  in- 
wardly afhamed  at  the  weakncfs  of  our  faith,  and  the 
coldnefs  of  our  love,  as  they  fliew  themfelves,  by  our 
indiiferencc  in  the  duties  of  our  office?  We  are  of- 
ten ready,  both  to  complain,  and  wonder  that  our 
hearers  are  fo  little  atfccled  with  the  moft  awful  con- 
fiderations:  that  they  can  hear  with  indifference  of 
cverlailing  happincfs,  and  fet  without  fear  under  the 
denunciations  of  eternal  wrath  :  that  we  cannot 
pcrfuade  them,  it  is  of  importance  to  think  what 
Ihall  become  of  them  forever.  But  is  it  not  alfo  to 
be  wondered  at,  that  wc  ourfclvcs  can  often  fpcak  of 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  25 

thefe  things,  with  fo  little  emotion  ?  Can  we  ever 
be  fufficicntly  affedled,  with  the  danger  of  our 
hearers,  when  we  confider,  that  we  muft  either  favc 
them  by  convincing  and  converting  them  now,  or 
deliver  our  own  fouls,  by  witncfling,  juftifying,  and 
perhaps  pleading  for  their  condemnation  at  the  lall 
day  ?  However  plain  and  fimple  thefe  truths  are, 
of  the  final  judgment  of  minifters  and  people, 
they  are  quite  unfathomable  in  their  meaning  and 
importance  to  both.  It  is  fl range  that  we  can 
think  of  them  without  the  deepefl  concern,  or 
even  fpeak  of  them  without  tears. 

Let  us  pray  that  the  Lord  would  increafe  our 
faith,  that  believing  we  may  fpeak,  and  that  our 
fpeech  may  be  with  fuch  efficacy,  by  the  blefling 
of  God,  as  many  finners  may  be  thereby  brought 
to  everlalling  life ;  that  we  may  approve  ourfelves 
to  him  that  fent  us ;  and  that  when  Chrift,  the 
chief  fhepherd  iliall  appear,  we  m.ay  receive  a 
Crown  of  Glory  that  fadeth  not  away. 


SERMON       IL 

MAN    IN    HIS    NATURAL    STATE. 

B    Y 

JOHN  fFir  HERS  POO  N,T>.D.L.L,D, 

Col.N.  C.  p. 


BEasaBaBsacBi 


Rev.     iii.   17. 

Becaufe  thou  fay  eft  lam  rich,  and  increafed  with  goods, 
and  have  need  of  nothing  ;  and  knoweft  not  that  ihoti 
art  wretchedy  and  miferahley  and  poor,  and  blind, 
and  naked, 

N  order  to  preach  the  Gofpel  with  fuccefs,  it 
is  neceifary  that  we  ihould  begin,  by  eilablifli- 
ing  the  great  and  fundamental  truths,  on  which 
all  the  rell  arc  built,  and  to  which  they  conftant- 
ly  refer.  Nay,  it  is  neceifary,  that  we  Ihould  often 
look  back  to  thefc,  and  fee  that  we  be  not  off  the 
foundation,  or  that  it  be  not  weakly,  or  imperfed- 
ly  laid.  Of  this  fort,  I  take  the  guilt,  mifery,  and 
weaknefs  of  our  nature  to  be ;  and  therefore  have 
chofen  the  words  now  read,  as  the  fubjed;  of  dif- 
courfe,  in  which  the  fpirit  of  God  reproves  the 
fufficicncy,  and  felf-righteoufucfs  of  the  church  of 
Laodicca. 


zn  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

Becaufe  thou  fay  ejl  I  am  rich,  and  increafed  in  goods, 
&c,  I  fuppofe  you  will  all  cafily  undcrftand,  that 
the  words  are  figurative,  and  are  fpoken  entirely, 
with  a  view  to  the  fpiritual  ftate  of  that  Church. 
In  this  light,  let  us  confider  what  is  precifely  their 
meaning. 

We  may  cither  fuppofe,  that  this  charge  is 
brought  againft  the  church  of  Laodicea,  becaufe 
there  were  many  there,  under  the  profeflion  of  the 
Gofpel,  who  were  notwithftanding,  ftill  in  a  natu- 
ral unrenewed  ftate — ft  rangers  to  the  power  of 
Religion ;  of  which,  their  being  thus  unhumbled, 
and  infenfible  of  their  guilt,  and  mifery,  was  the 
evidence ;  and  for  which,  the  remedy  is  prefcrib- 
cd,  in  the  following  words  :  I  council  thee  to  huy  of 
me  gold,  tried  in  the  fire ^  that  thou  mayeji  be  rich,  and 
ivhite  raiment  that  thou  mayejl  be  clothed^  and  that  the 
(hame  of  thy  nakednefs  do  not  appear  ;  and  anoint  thiite 
eyes  with  eye  falve,  that  thou  mayeji  fee. 

Or  we  may  fuppofe,  that  this  reproof,  was  in  a 
great  meafu re  applicable  to  them  all,  in  general ; 
believers  and  unbelievers  ;  the  bell  of  them,  being 
exceedingly  prone  to  trufl  in  themfelves,  that  they 
were  righteous ;  inftead  of  that  humble  depend- 
ance  on  the  merit,  and  grace  of  their  Redeemer, 
which  ought  not  only  to  be  the  refuge  of  the  fm- 
ncr,  but  the  confidence  of  the  faint.  And  there 
is  no  quedion,  that  this  is  a  proper  caution  to  pro- 
fcffing  Chriflians  in  every  age,  to  beware  of  fpl it- 
ting  on  the  rock  of  felf-fufficiency. 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  2^ 

But  as  this  difpofition  reigns  in  the  heart  of 
every  one,  that  is  yet  at  a  diftance  from  God — is 
the  foundation  of  their  fecurity  and  inipenitence^ 
and  is  what  they  mud  be  brought  off  from,  before 
they  can  be  reconciled  to  God ;  it  is  for  their  be- 
nefit, that  I  chiefly  defign  this  difcourfe,  though  it 
may  alfo  be  ufeful,  and  iliall  be  in  part  apphed  to 
the  children  of  God.  It  is  an  affedling  thought, 
when  purfued  to  its  confequences  ;  yet  alas  !  it  is 
unquellionably  true,  that  in  every  zfCcmbly,  fuch  as 
this,  of  profefling  Chridians,  there  are  not  a  few, 
who  are  in  the  gall  of  hitiernejsy  and  in  the  bond  of 
iniquity,  under  the  wrath  of  God,  and  liable  to  the 
condemning  fentence  of  his  law ;  and  at  the  fame 
time,  that  the  far  greateft  part  of  them  are  igno- 
rant of  it,  and  know  not,  that  they  are  wretched^ 
^nd  poor,  and  blind,  and  naked. 

In  difcourfing  farther  upon  this  fubjed  there- 
fore, I  fhall 

I.  Endeavor  to  prove  and  illuflrate  this  truth : 
that  all  mankind  are  by  nature  in  a  ftatc  of  fin  and 
mifery,  under  the  bondage  of  corruption,  and  lia- 
ble to  the  wrath  of  God. 

II.  I  fliall  briefly  fhew  you,  that  being  brought 
to  a  lively  fcnfe,  and  genuine  convidlion  of  this, 
is  the  firil,  and  a  necefTary  ftep,  to  the  faving 
knowledge  of  God,  in  Chrifl: — And  in  the  //?/?• 
place,  fhall  make  fome  pra6lical  improvement  ofr 
the  fubjc^l. 


^o  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

I.  In  the  firll  place  then,  I  am  to  prove  and  il- 
luftrate  this  truth  ;  that  all  mankind  are  by  nature 
in  a  ftate  of  lin  and  mifery,  under  the  bondage  of 
corruption,  and  liable  to  the  wrath  of  God.  What 
is  faid  in  this  pafTage  of  the  Laodiceans,  is  uni- 
verfally  true,  of  the  poflerity  of  Adam.  Unlefs 
an  inward  and  effential  change  has  been  WTOUght 
upon  them  by  the  grace  of  God  ;  they  are  wretch- 
edy  and  mijerable^  and  poor,  and  blind,  and  naked.  It 
is  alfo  true  of  them,  as  well  as  the  Laodiceans,  that 
they  know  it  not ;  but  vainly  prefume  themfelves 
to  be  rich,  and  increafcd  with  goods,  and  to  have 
need  of  nothing.  If  thefe  two  things  are  jointly 
true  of  many  of  you  my  hearers,  there  is  nothing 
ia  which  you  can  have  fo  great  a  concern  :  there- 
fore, let  me  earneftly  befeech  your  mofl  ferious  at- 
tention, to  what  fliall  be  faid :  as  the  fuccefs  of 
this  convi6lion  is  neceflary,  to  your  underftand- 
irig,  or  profiting  by  any  other  part  of  divine  truth, 
as  I  fliall  afterwards  Ihew  you. 

The  proof  of  the  truth  here  afTerted,  can  be  only 
of  two  kinds,  r.  From  fcripture,  w^hich  is  the 
teftimony  of  God  declaring  it.  2.  From  the  vi- 
iible  flate  of  the  world,  and  our  own  experience, 
finding  it  to  be  fo. 

I.  That  all  mankind  are  by  nature  in  a  fl-ate  of 
fm  and  mifery,  appears  from  the  exprefs,  and  re- 
peated tedirhony  of  the  word  of  God.     And  this 
teftimony  wc  have,  not  only  in  particular  pailligcs, 
carrying  the  truth,  but  in  the  itrain  and  fpirit  o^ 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  31 

the  whole,  and  the  fevcral  difpenfations  of  Divine 
Providence  there  recorded ;  which  are  all  of  them, 
built  upon  this  fuppoiition,  and  intended  to  reme- 
dy this  univerfal  evil. 

See  what  God  declares :  Gen.  vi.  5.  And  God 
fazv  that  the  wickednejs  of  man  was  great  in  the  earthy 
and  that  every  imagination  of  the  thoughts  of  his  hearty 
was  only  evil  continually.  And  again,  the  imagina-^ 
iion  of  mans  heart  is  evil  from  his  youth.  We  may 
take  the  pfalmift  David's  teflimony  of  himfelf,  as 
a  fample,  of  the  reft  of  mankind  ;  and  indeed  he 
plainly  intimates,  that  it  is  a  common  calamity. 
Who  can  underfand  his  errors  ?  Cleanfe  thou  me  from 
Jecret  faults.  Behold  I  I  was  fbapen  in  iniquity^  and 
in  fin  did  my  mother  conceive  fue. 

We  may  take  alfo  the  teflimony  of  the  Apoflle 
Paul,  in  his  epiftle  to  the  Romans,  which  is  the 
more  full  to  our  prefent  purpofc :  that  as  he  had 
never  been  at  Rome,  he  is  there  laying  the  foun- 
dation of  religion  in  general,  and  the  Chriflian 
-difpenfation  in  particular,  by  a  clear,  and  explicit 
proof,  of  the  need  the  world  had  of  a  Saviour, 
from  its  univerfal  corruption  and  depravity.  Sec 
then  what  he  fays — IVhat  then?  Are  we  better  than 
they?  No,  in  no  wife,  for  we  have  before  proved  both 
Jews  and  Gentiles,  that  they  are  all  under  fin.  As  it 
is  written,  there  is  none  righteous,  no  not  one.  And 
again — Novo  zve  know  that  what  things  foever  the 
law  faith :  it  faith  to  them  who  under  the  law,  that 
€very  mouth  may  be  flopped,  and  all  the  world  may  be^ 


32  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

torn f  guilty,  before  God. — For  all  have  finned  and 
iomejbort  of  the  glory  of  God. 

You  may  alfo  fee,  that  the  Apoftle  traces  this 
diforder,   to  its  very  fource — Wherefore  as  by  one 
many  fin  entered  into  the  world,  and  death  by  fin  :  and 
Jo  death  pajjed  upon  all  men,  for  that  all  have  finned, 

I  fhall  add  but  one  exprefs  fcripture  teflimony 
more. — And  you  hath  he  quickened,  who  were  dead  in 
trefpaffes  and  fins. 

But  befides  the  particular  paiTages  of  fcripture, 
pofitively  declaring  this  truth,  the  whole  frame  and 
contexture  of  the  fcriptures,  and  all  the  difpenfa- 
tions  of  Divine  Providence  recorded  in  them,  arc 
a  proof  of  the  fame  thing.  Man  is  every  where 
confidered  as  in  a  fallen  and  finful  flate.  Every 
thing  that  is  prefcribed  to  him,  and  every  thing 
that  is  done  for  him,  goes  upon  that  fuppoiiiion. 
It  is  not  one  man,  or  a  few  men,  that  are  in  fcrip- 
ture called  to  repentance,  but  all  without  excepti- 
on. Now  repentance  is  only  the  duty  of  a  iinner. 
An  innocent  perfon  cannot  repent ;  he  has  nothing 
to  grieve  for  in  his  heart,  or  to  forfake  in  his  life. 
It  is  alfo  proper  to  obfervc,  that  one  of  the  fcrip- 
ture characters  of  God  is.  Merciful  and  gracious^ 
flow  to  anger,  forgiving  iniquity,  tranfgreffion  and  fin. 
Now,  he  could  not  be  to  us  a  forgiving  God,  and 
there  would  be  no  need  that  he  fhould  be  revealed 
under  that  charader,  unlefs  we  were  fmners,  that 
flood  in  need  of  pardon.  Mercy,  indeed,  is  the 
diftinguifhing  attribute  of  God,  and  this  can  only 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  33 

have  refpedl  to  offenders.  All  the  other  perfec- 
tions of  God,  might  be  excrcifcd  towards  pure  and 
holy  creatures ;  but  mercy,  only  towards  finners. 
He  might  be  a  good,  holy,  jui\,  wife,  powerful 
God,  to  perfons  in  a  ftate  of  innocence,  but  he 
can  iliew  mercy,  only  to  the  guilty. 

Do  not  the  difpenfations  of  God's  Providence, 
{hew  the  fame  thing  ?  He  lent  the  flood,  as  a  telli- 
mony  of  the  wickednefs  of  the  world,  and  for  the 
punifhment  of  a  guilty  race.  Remember  alfo  the 
facrifices,  which  were  appointed,  and  accepted  by 
God  from  the  beginning  of  the  world.  Sacrifices 
are  for  atonement,  arid  expiation.  They  are  plain- 
ly a  fabftitution  in  the  room  of  a  forfeited  lite.  It 
is  doing  violence  to  common  {cnfc,  to  make  them 
any  thing  elfe.  The  whole  Jewifh  oeconomy, 
which  had  in  it  fo  many  facrifices,  fo  many  oifer- 
ings,  fo  many  waihings  and  purifications,  does 
plainly  fuppofe,  the  perfon  ufing  them,  to  be  in- 
fected with  (in,  or  moral  pollution.  Had  nor  this 
been  the  cafe,  they  had  been  extremely  abfurd,  and 
improper. 

But  the  flrongefl  teftimony  of  all,  that  God  hath 
given  to  the  guilt,  and  corruption  of  mankind,  is 
his  fending  his  own  Son  into  the  world,  to  redeem 
them  by  the  facrifice  of  himfelf — To  what  pur- 
pofe  redeem  them,  if  they  were  not  in  bondage  ? 
Vv^hy  fo  coftly  an  expiation,  if  our  lives  had  noi 
been  forfeited  to  Divine  Juilicc  ?  But  that  it  was 
for  this  purpofc,  that  Chrlft  came  into  the  worlds 

D 


34 


WITHERSPOON. 


is  fo  plain,  from  the  whole  of  the  fcriptures,  that  I 
Ihall  felect  but  one  paifage  out  of  many,  to  prove 

it — Whom  God  hath  Jet  forth  to  he  a  propitiation^ 
through  faith  in  his  blood,  to  declare  his  right coufiufsy 
for  the  rem  [fion  of  fins  that  are  pafi,  through  the  for^ 
hearance  of  God, 

What  is  faid  already  on  this  head,  is  a  full  proof 
from  fcripture,  that  man  is  now,  by  nature,  in  a 
ftate  of  fin;  that  he  is  alfo,  in  confequence  of  that, 
in  a  fl:ate  of  mifcry,  and  liable  to  the  wrath  of  God, 
is  proved  by  many  of  the  fame  pafTages,  and  by 
m.any  others — For  the  wrath  of  God  is  revealed  from 
Heaven  againft:  all  ungodlii^efsy  and  iinrighteovfnefs  of 
men,  zvho  hold  the  truth  in  unrighteoufnefs — For  the 
wages  of  fin  is  death,  ^c.  But  I  need  not  multi- 
ply paflages  to  this  purpofe  ;  for  in  all  God's  dif- 
penfations,  the  deferved  punifhrnent  of  iinners,  is 
as  evident,  as  their  linfulnefs  itfelf.  It  is  indeed 
fully  proved,  from  the  edential  perfed:ions  of  God, 
particularly  his  holinefs  and  juftice.  He  is  of 
purer  eyes,  than  that  he  can  behold  iniquity. 
Evil  cannot  dwell  voith  him,  nor  fools,  that  is,  finners, 
ftand  in  his  fight. 

Is  not  all  this  then  my  brethren,  a  fufficicnt 
proof,  from  the  teftimony  of  God,  that  man  in  a 
natural  ftate,  is  (inful  and  mifcrable?  Shall  we  af- 
firm ourfelvcs  to  be  whole,  if  he  faith  we  are  un- 
found  ?  Do  we  know  more  than  God?  Will  wc 
not  give  credit  to  the  fountain  of  truth  ?  Nor  is  it 
any  objection  to  this,  that  we  ourfelves  know  It 


WITHERSPOON.  35 

not,  or  are  but  little  fenlible  of  it.  One  confider- 
able  part  of  thedifeafe,  is  blindncfs  of  underftand- 
ing :  fo  that  we  may,  and  muil,  till  our  eyes  are 
opened,  be  ignorant  of  our  danger — We  may 
think  and  fay,  that  we  are  rich,  and  increafed  in 
goods,  and  have  need  of  nothing,  while  we  are, 
'zvretched  and  miferable^  and  blind  and  naked, 

2.  The  fame  thing  appears  from  the  vifible 
Hate  of  the  world,  and  our  own  experience.  Un- 
believers are  apt  to  hear  with  indifference  and 
negledl,  what  they  are  told  from  fcripture  tcfti- 
mony,  unlefs  otherwife  confirm.ed  to  them  ;  and 
it  is  with  the  unbeliever  we  have  now  to  do.  Be- 
lides,  the  effablifhment  of  this  truth,  upon  other 
evidence  than  that  of  fcripture,  ought  to  have  a 
powerful  influence,  in  inducing  men  to  believe  the 
other  truths  in  fcripture,  that  are  connected  with 
and  founded  upon  it.  I  think  it  therefore,  highly 
proper,  to  lay  before  you  what  evidence  we  have 
of  our  loft  ftate,  from  the  obfervation  of  the  world, 
though  the  fcriptures  had  been  filent.  I  would 
likewife  recommend  to  all,  what  lliall  be  faid  on 
this  fubjecft,  to  preferve  your  faith  undiaken,  and 
keep  you  from  blafphemous,  unbelieving  thoughts, 
if  at  any  time,  you  fhould  be  tempted  to  them ; 
fince,even  unenlightened  reafon,  confirms  the  foun- 
dation of  divine  truth,  and  nature,  and  providence 
confpire,  in  preaching  the  Dodlrine  of  Divine 
Grace. 

Now,  doth  not  our  experience,  as  well  as  the 
obfervation  of  others,  Iliew  us,  that  wc  are  born  in 


16  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 


o 


lin,  and  conceived  in  iniquity  ?  May  we  not  faj 
from  our  own  knowledge,  that  the  imaginations  of 
the  heart  of  man,  are  only  evil  from  his  youth,  and 
that  continually?  Is  there  not  a  pronenefs,  and 
tendency  to  evil,  univerfally  to  be  obferved,  in 
mankind  ?  and  a  backwardnefs  and  averlion  to  that 
■which  is  good  ?  Is  not  this  apparent  even  in  chil- 
dren, upon  the  firfb  dawn  of  reafon  in  their  minds, 
and  the  firft  light  of  choice  or  inclination  in  their 
hearts?  Surely  it  mufl:  be  owned,  that  in  that  early 
period,  they  are  at  lead  comparatively  innocent — If 
any  among  us,  is  without  fm,  it  mud  be  the  young- 
rft ;  yet  folly  is   bound  in  the  heart  of  a  child.—" 
How  hard  is  it  to  guard  them  from  evil,  and  to  in- 
fpire  them  with  good  difpolitions,  even  by  the 
ivifeil,  and  earlieil  care,  in  their  inflrudion  ?  And 
even  after  the  mod  faccefjfal  pains,  are  there  not 
Hill  m.any  remaining  blemillies,  through  the  pre- 
valence of  corrupt  nature,  which  fliew,  that  the 
ground-v/ork  itfelf,  v;as  faulty  ?  But  on  the  con- 
trary, how  eaiily  do  men  learn,  that  which  is  evil? 
Do  they  need  to  be  taught  ?  Is  it  not  enough  to 
give  them  licence  ?  How  jufl  is  that  dcfcription 
in  Jeremiah  ?  ^ey  are  wife  to  do  evily  hut  to  do  good 
they  have  no  knowledge,     I  am  far  from  denying, 
that  men  are  improved  and  forwarded  in  lin,  by 
iniirudlion  and  example,  as  well  as  in  that,  which 
is  good  :  but  it  is  plain,  they  are  far  apter  fchohrs, 
in  the  firft,  than  in  the  laft  ;  which  plainly  Ihev/s, 
they  are  more  powerfully  difpofcd  to  it,  by  nature. 
Nay,  is  it  not  evident,  from  the  univcrfal  expcri- 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  37 

cncc,  and  teflimony  of  thofe,  who  adl  from  a  prin- 
riplc  of  RelLgion ;  that  it  is  extremely  difficult, 
"with  all  the  care  they  can  take,  to  relifl  the  pro- 
penfity  of  nature,  to  the  contrary  ?  And  that  in  the 
beil,  it  often  gets  the  fuperiority,  when  they  are  off 
their  guard  ?  Is  not  this  an  evidence  of  the  depra- 
vity and  corruption  of  human  nature,  and  its  ten- 
dency to  evil  ?  Are  thofe  Vv^ho  hate  lin,  ofiien  over- 
come by  it,  and  fhall  thofe  who  love  it,  prefume 
to  fay,  they  are  free  from  it  ? 

If  any  fliould  3.{k,  how  I  prove  that  that  courfc 
of  adlion,  to  which  human  nature  is  inclined  is 
evil,  without  the  afliftance  of  fcripture  ?  I  anfwer, 
from  reafon ;  and  that  many  ways — from  its  per- 
nicious efi'edls  on  focieties,  and  private  perfons  ; 
from  the  teflimony  of  the  world  in  general,  when 
others,  than  themfelves,  are  concerned,  and  from 
the  teflimony  of  every  man's  confcience,  in  his 
own  cafe.  Who  is  there,  that  does  not  often  feel 
in  himfelf,  a  powerful  tendency  to  what  he  can- 
not but  in  his  heart  condemn?  Is  not  his  con- 
fcience God's  vicegerent  ?  and  doth  not  natural 
religion,  as  well  as  the  religion  of  Chrifl',  declare 
him  corrupt  ?  So  that  I  may  fay  with  the  Apofiie 
Paul,  not  citing  the  pafTage  as  a  proof,  but  as  an 
illuflration  and  defcription  of  the  character,  and 
Hate  of  natural  men — For  zvhen  the  Gentiles  which 
have  not  the  law,  do  by  nature  the  things  coniained  in 
the  lazv :  thefe  having  not  the  law,  are  a  law  unto 
ihemf elves,  which  Jhcw  the  work  of  the  law  written 


38  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

/;/  their  hearts ,  their  conjcience  aljo  hearing  zvitnefs^ 
and  their  thought s^  the  mean  while ^  accufing  or  elfe  ex-^ 
cufing  one  another. 

Thus  there  is  as  much  light  remaining  with  us 
fmce  the  fall,  as  to  ihew,  that  we  are  out  of  the 
way,  but  not  to  bring  us  back  to  it  again. 

As  a  ferious  confideration  of  the  flate  of  the 
wicked,  may  fhev/  us  our  natural  impurity  :  fo  it 
hath  been  long  ago  difcovered,  and  confelTed  by 
many  of  the  ancient  heathens,  who  never  heard  of 
the  name  of  Chrifl:,  nor  knew  of  the  remedy. 
Thefe,  difcerning  by  nature,  the  perfediijy  pure,  and 
holy  nature  of  God,  and  comparing  it  with  the 
difpofitions  prevalent  in  man,  could  not  reconcile 
them  together  ;  but  concluded,  that  a  creature,  fo 
corrupt,  could  not  come  in  that  condition,  out  of 
the  hands  of  its  Creator.  This  difficulty  ibme  of 
them  endeavored  to  folve,  by  a  flate  of  pre-exifl- 
ence ;  which  bears  fome  refembiance  to  the  true 
folution,  given  of  it  in  the  holy  fcripture :  viz. 
the  apoflacy  of  our  firfl:  parents ,-  which  entailed  a 
corrupted  nature  upon  their  pofterity,  in  which^ 
the  light  of  nature,  and  revealed  truth,  feem  al- 
moft  VvhoUy,  to  coincide. 

It  is  to  the  fame  thing  that  I  cannot  help  attri- 
buting the  practice,   that  fo  univerfally  prevailed 
over   the    heathen   world,  before  the  coming  of  ■ 
Chriit,  ofojjeringfacrijicesy  to  appeafe  the  wrath  of 
the  Dciry,  fuppofed  to  be  oifcndjd.     That  the 


WITHERSPOON.  39 

cuflom  of  facrificing,  prevailed  very  generally, 
perhaps  univerfally  among  the  heathen  nations, 
at  the  greateft  difcance  from,  and  having  no  corref- 
pondence  with  each  other,  is  a  certain  and  un- 
queilionable  fact.  Neither  do  I  fee  to  what  caufe 
we  can  afcribe  it,  unlefs  to  one  of  thefe  two ;  ei- 
ther an  ancient  tradition,  from  the  beginning  of 
the  world,  and  fpread  with  the  inhabitants, 
through  the  feveral  parts  of  it,  as  they  feparated 
and  peopled  it;  or  to  the  common  condition  of 
human  nature,  which  dictated  the  fame  thing,  to 
perfons,  in  fuch  diltant  places. 

If  the  firft  of  thefe  fjppofitions  is  embraced, 
which  indeed  I  fuppofe  to  be  the  truth,  it  appears 
that  facrifices  w^re  appointed  by  God  to  man,  in 
his  fallen  flate,  for  the  pardon  of  iin,  and  that  they 
had  reference,  to  the  great  propitiatory  facrifice  of 
Chriit,  upon  the  crofs. 

If  weprefer  the  lait  fuppofition,  it  would  feem  as 
if  theconfcioufnefs  of  guilt,  had  uniformly  prompt^ 
ed  men  in  all  ages,  and  nations,  to  offer  up  fomc 
atonement  for  their  offences.  In  both  cafes,  it 
<;qually  fervcs,  to  prove  the  corruption,  and  linful- 
nefs  of  human  nature. 

Now  as  what  hath  been  faid,  plainly  proves  the 
impurity  of  man,  in  his  natural  ftate  :  i^o  his  mifc- 
ry  and  liablenefs  to  punifliment,  may  alfo  be  prov- 
ed ;  both  as  a  natural  confequence  of  his  finful- 
nefs,  and  even,  more  plainly,  by  itfelf.  There  h 
not  only  a  coafidcrablc  de^^rce  of  actual  mifci/  in 


40 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 


the  world,  but  plain  prefagcs  of  more  to  follow  it 
ill  the  world  to  come.  Need  I  take  up  much  time, 
in  enumerating  the  feveral  mifcries,  and  calami- 
ties, incident  to  human  life  ?  Are  not  oppreflion 
and  injury  from  one  another,  poverty,  fickncfs, 
pain,  and  death,  the  plain  fruits  of  fm,  and  vifible 
tokens  of  God's  difpleafure  ?  Man  with  fome  marks 
of  fuperiority  and  excellence  of  nature,  is  even,  by 
means  of  his  fuperiority,  his  knowledge,  and  fore- 
light  of  his  own  fufferings,  more  miferable,  than 
any  other  of  the  creatures,  that  is  equally  fubjedi 
to  the  ftroke  of  death. 

To  the  whole,  I  fhall  only  fubjoin  one  coniider- 
ation  more,  which  is  applicable  to  both  parts  of  the 
argument — I  have  often  thought,  that  the  natural 
terror  and  fear  zviih  which  men  are  pqffeji,  of  the  pre^ 
Jence  of  God,  or  any  remarkable  token  of  his  power,  is 
nothing  elfe,  but  an  indication  of  guilt,  or  an  apprehen-^ 
Jion  of  wrath. 

You  may  fee  fome  incidents  in  fcripture,  from 
which  it  is  natural  to  conclude ;  that  when  God 
makes  any  vifible  manifeftation  of  his  glory,  or 
fends  any  of  his  Angels  or  Miniflers  from  Heaven 
to  Earth ;  thole  who  are  prefent,  are  filled  with 
the  utmoft  dread  and  tenor. 

Thus  in  the  relation  given  of  God's  appearance 
upon  Mount  Sinai,  it  is  faid  :  And  fo  terrible  was 
the  fight,  that  Mofes  faid,  I  exceedingly  fear  and  quake. 
Sec  another  example,  in  liliiah — nen  faid  I,  wee 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  -        41 

ts  me,  for  I  am  undone,  becaufe  I  am  a  man  of  unclean 
lips  ;  for  mine  eyes  have  feen  the  King,  the  Lord  of 
HgJIs.  And  in  the  New  Teflament,  in  the  Apof- 
tle  John — And  when  If  aw  him,  I  fell  at  his  feet  as 
dead. 

And  is  not  this  always  the  cafe,  in  all  ages,  that 
upon  any  remarkable  appearance  of  an  inhabitant 
of  the  other  world,  or  even  when  any  fuch  thing 
is  falfely  apprehended  the  inhabitants  of  this 
world  are  filled  with  extraordinary  terror  ?  What 
is  this  do  you  imagine,  but  confcioufnefs  of  guilt, 
and  appreheniion  of  vengeance  ? 

Innocence  has  no  enemy,  and  it  has  nothing 
to  fear.  We  are  all  in  much  the  fame  cafe  with 
Adam,  immediately  after  his  firft  tranfgreilion ; 
when  he  heard  God's  voice  in  the  garden,  he  was 
afraid,  and  fled,  and  hid  bimfelf-AVc  read  of  no  fuch 
fear  poffelTing  him,  while  he  retained  his  inno- 
cence, but  as  foon  as  he  had  tinned,  he  began  to 
dread  an  avenging  God.  ^ 

From  all  this  then,  I  would  conclude,  that  roa- 
fon  accords  with  fcriptu  re,  in  faying,  that  all  have 
finned  and  come  fhort  of  the  glory  of  God:  that  man  in. 
a  natural  fVate,  is  wreicbcd,  and  inifcr:ib::\  a::d  /•>:;• 
and  blind  and  naked. 


SERMON      III. 

V 

An  inducement  to  come  to  CHRIST. 


B    Y 


JOHN  WITHERS POON.D.D.UL.D. 

Col.  N.  C.  P. 


mf 


Rev.     iii.   17. 

Becaufe  thou  fay  eft  I  am  ricby  and  increajed  with  goods  ^ 
and  have  need  of  nothing ;  and  knoweft  not  that  thou 
art  wretched,  and  mifcrable,  and  poor,  and  blind, 
and  naked, 

HA VING  in  a  former difcourfe,  proved,  and 
illudrated  this  truth ;  that  all  mankind  are 
by  nature,  in  a  (late  of  fm  and  mifery,  under  the 
bondage  of  corruption^  and  liable  to  the  wrath  of 
God  : — I  proceed  now  to  the  fecond  thing  propof- 
cd,  which  was  to  ihew  ycu,  that  being  brought  to 
a  lively  fenfe,  and  genuine  conviction  of  this,  is  the 
firft,  and  a  necciTary  flcp,  to  the  faving  knowledge 
of  God,  in  Chrift. 

On  this,  I  fhall  not  need  to  fpend  much  time,  as 
it  is  fo  exceedingly  plain,  both  in  itfclf,  and  from 
what  hath  been  alre-idy  laid — It  is  howcYer  nccef-# 


44  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  6  O  N. 

fary  to  fet  it  clearly  before  you,  in  order  to  lay  a 
foundation^  for  the  improvement  of  the  lubjedt. 

If  the  dodrine  of  Chrift,  and  of  him  crucified, 
proceeds  upon  the  fuppbfltion  of  our  finful,  and 
tnifcrable  condition  by  nature  ;  then  furely,  it  can 
neither  be  valued,  embraced,  nor  improved  ;  and 
indeed,  I  think  hardly  underftood,  by  thofe,  who 
knov/  not  this  their  natural  ftate.  What  Chrift 
hath  done,  and  promifes  to  do  in  our  behalf,  is  dc- 
ligned  as  a  remedy,  for  our  diftrelTed  condition; 
and  therefore,  till  the  diftrefs  is  known,  the  reme- 
dy will  be  fet  at  nought.  If  a  phyfician  iliould  of- 
fer his  care  and  flcill,  for  the  recovery  of  a  man, 
who  eflecmed  himfelf  in  perfed  health,  would  h& 
iK)t  deride  the  propofal,  fo  long  as  he  continued  in 
that  opinion  ?  If  any  man  (hould  offer  a  charitable 
fupply  of  clothes  and  food,  to  one,  who  imagined 
himfelf  immenfcly  rich,  and  gloried  in  his  riches; 
Aiouid  he  not  look  upon  it,  as  the  groiren"  inililt  ? 

Jiift  fo  is  the  Gofpel  treated,  by  all  fuch  as  fee 
not  their  mifery.  What  is  the  fublVance  of  the 
Gofpel  ?  '  To  you  O  men,  I  call,  and  my  voice  is 
to  the  Jons  of  men.  Behold !  I  preach  to  you 
Chrift  crucified,  a  Saviour,  fliitcd  to  yournecelli- 
ties,  able  to  fave,  to  the  utlermoft,  all  that  come  to 
Grod  through  him.  He  is  well  fitted  to  be  a  me- 
diator, between  you,  and  your  offended  tnakcr. 
He  hath  offered  himfelf  up,  a  facrifice  to  the  juf- 
ticeof  God,  for  your  fins,  by  the  merit  of  which, 
you  may  be  laved  from  defcrved  and  impending 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  4S 

ruin.  He  offers  him(elf  as  a  guide,  to  direct  your 
feet  in  the  way  of  peace— *to  ftahd  by  you  in  the 
difficulties  and  dangers  to  which  you  are  expofed, 
and  to  give  you  by  his  communicated  ftrength,  a 
complete  vid:ory  over  all- your  enemies.' 

What  reply  doth  the  unconvinced  (inner  make, 
to  all  this  ?  Why  he  faith,  *  I  know  nothing  of  this 
mifery  you  fuppofe,  wherefore  then  a  Saviour?  L 
fee  no  (in,  what  neceflity  then,  for  an  atonement  ? 
I  fear  no  wrath,  therefore  will  feek  for  no  Intercef- 
for.  My  eyes  are  open,  therefore  I  will  have  no 
guide.  I  know  of  no  enemies,  and  therefore,  will 
not  enter  into  contention  with  a  fliadow,  or  flee, 
when  no  man  purfueth.' 

Thefe  my  brethren,  are  either  diredlly,  or  im- 
plicitly, the  thoughts  of  men,  in  a  fecure,  and  un- 
convinced (late ;  and  while  they  are  fo,  they  can 
fee  no  form,  nor  comlinefs  in  the  Saviour,  nor  any 
beauty,  that  they  fliould  de(ire  him. 

It  is  otherwife  with  the  broken  in  fpirit.  He 
fees  his  own  vilenefs,  and  unv/orthinefs,  and  there- 
fore cannot  lift  his  eyes  to  God,  but  through  the 
atoning  blood  of  Chrift.  He  fears  the  avenger  of  ^ 
blood,  and  therefore  flees  to  the  city  of  refuge — Tlie 
me(rage  of  the  Gofpel,  is  to  him,  indeed  glad  tid- 
ings of  great  joy,  and  he  counts  it  a  faithful  faying, 
and  worthy  of  all  acceptation. 

The  ju (lice  of  this  reprefentation,  you  may  fee, 
fcom  what  our  Saviour  himfelf  fays,  of  the  end  ot 


46  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

his  coming.  7hey  that  he  whole,  need  not  a  phyjici^ 
an  but  they  that  are  fick :  But  go  ye  and  learn  what 
that  meanethy  I  will  have  mercy  and  not  Jacrifice  ;  for 
lam  not  come  to  call  the  righteous,  hut  [inner s  to  repen-^ 
tance. 

See  alfo  the  terms  of  his  invitation.     Come  unto 
me  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  1  will 
give  you  refi. 

Appetite,  and  knowlege  of  neceflity,  is  firft  re- 
quired, or  fuppofed,  to  the  beftowing  of  Gofpel 
blellings — Hoi  everyone  that  thirfieth,  come  ye  to 
the  waters. 

I  fhall  only  add,  that  we  find  by  the  inftances^ 
recorded  in  fcripture,  of  fuch  as  were  converted 
by  the  preaching  of  the  Gofpel ;  that  their  con-, 
verfion,  took  its  rife,  from  conviclion  of  fm — Now 

when  they  heard  this,  they  were  pricked  in  their  hearts, 
and /aid  unto  Peter,  and  to  the  reft  of  the  Apoftles^ 
men  and  brethren^  what  fhall  we  do  F  See  alfo  the 
jnlVancc  of  the  jailor — Then  he  called  for  a  light, 
and  fprang  in,  and  came  trembling,  and  fell  dffzvn  be^ 

fore  Paul  and  Silas :  Jlnd  brought  them  out,  and  faid 

firs,  what  muft  I  do  to  be  faved  / 

Repentance  unto  life,  and  the  return  of  the  Tin- 
ner to  God,  proceeds  from  the  fame  caufe,  in  eve- 
ry age.  Who  are  the  perfons  v»'ho  believingly  ap- 
ply to  Chrifl  for  the  pardon  of  their  fins,  but  thofc 
wlio  fee  they  are  undone  without  him  ?  Who  are 
the  perfons  in  whofc  tyt&  he  is  mofl  precious,  and 


WITHERSPOON.  47 

who  maintain  the  mod  habitual  dependance  upon 
him  ?  Arc  they  not  thofe  who  have  been  moft  ef- 
fedually  humbled,  and  fee  their  own  infufficicncy 
for  any  thing  that  is  good  ? 

From  all  this  I  conclude,  that  none  can  come  to 
Chriil  by  faith,  but  thofe  who  fee  themfelves  to  be 

zvretched^  and  miferable,  and  blind  and  naked. 

Let  us  now  make  fome  improvement,  of  v/hat 
hath  been  faid  upon  this  fubjed,  for  your  inftruc- 
tion  and  diredion. 

T.  I  would  improve  what  has  been  faid  on  this 
fubjed,  for  difcovering  the  danger  of  many  among 
us,  who  have  never  yet  been  brought  to  ajuii 
fenfe  of  their  character,  and  ftate.  Even  the  ge- 
neral belief,  that  fuch,  often  have  in  the  fcriptures, 
may  Ihew  them  what  they  have  to  fear.  I  might 
no  doubt  firft  of  all  obferve,  how  WQty  guilty  and 
miferable  thofe  are,  who  are  moil  notorious  for 
lins,  of  the  groiTeftand  mod;  ihamefal  kind.  But 
my  fubjeCt  leads  me  more  directly  to  coniider, 
who  are  in  general,  unrenewed,  than  to  mark  the 
feveral  degrees  of  guilt  in  particular  finners.  Fron\ 
the  text  therefore,  and  the  illuftration  of  it,  I  am 
authorized  to  declare  to  you,  and  /  hejecch  yen  to 
hear  it  with  application  ;  that  all  fuch  as  were  never 
brought  to  a  real  difcovcry,  and  inward  fenfe,  of 
their  miferable  condition  by  nature,  are  It  ill  in  a 
Itate  of  wrath,  and  ftrangers  to  the  power  of  Reli- 
gion, whatever  may  be  their  profeffion,  and  vvhar- 
ever  may  be  their  prefent  peace.     Oh  !  how  cafy 


43  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  ISr, 

is  it,  to  lay  afleep  a  natural  confcience,  and  to  keep 
a  deceitful  corrupt  heart,  in  a  ftate  of  eafe  and  fe- 
curity?  Some  formality  in  outward  duty,  fomc 
moderation  in  fin,  fo  to  fpeak,  the  natural  decay, 
and  weaknefs  of  human  paffions,  or  youthful  lufts, 
in  a  charader,  formed  by  human  prudence,  and 
regulated  by  health,  credit  or  gain,  is  often  made 
to  fupply  the  place,  of  a  heart  renewed  by  the  fpi- 
rit  and  grace  of  God.  But  confider,  I  befeech  yoii, 
that  though  fome  may  be  ten  fold  more  the  children 
of  the  Devil  than  others,  yet  all  by  nature,  ai^: 
the  fervants  of  fin  ;  and  except  a  man  he  born  again, 
he  cannot  fee  the  kingdcfn  of  God> — It  is  not  only 
fuch  as  gre  profane,  or  unclean ;  fuch  as  riot  in 
brutilh  feniibility;  fuch  as  arc  the  plagues  of  hu- 
man fociety ;  who  live  in  braw  Is  and  contention ; 
but  all,  in  whom  an  eflTential  change,  has  never 
been  wrought,  that  are  thus  concluded  under  con- 
demnation. 

It  is  ufual  for  men  to  take  encouragement, 
from  feeing  others  worfe  than  themfelves  ;  and  to 
confider  ail  the  threatnings  in  fcripture,  as  levelled 
againft  the  chief  and  capital  offenders;  but  my 
text  is  chiefly  directed  to  fuch,  as  fay  they  are 
ricby  and  increafed  with  goods.  Can  you  fay  then 
my  brethren,  that  you  have  been  brought  under 
genuine  convi<liions  of  fin  ?  Have  you  been  oblig- 
ed to  fall  down  proftrate  before  God,  when  fitting 
■upon  the  throne  of  his  holinefs.  Have  you  found 
thefenrcnccof  death  in  yourfclves,  and  difcover- 
cd  no  rciiicdy,  but  in  .Chrift  ?.  If  this  has  ntvrtr 


Mi. 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  49 

been  our  cafe,  you  have  rcafon  to  fear,  that  you 
are  yet  in  the  gall  of  biturnejsy  and  in  the  bond  of 
iniquity. 

But  I  muft  tell  you  alfo  that  this  is  matter  of 
feeling,  more  than  of  profefTion.  It  is  not  enougli 
to  fpeak  honorably  of  Chrid,  or  of  his  works. 
Many  do  fo,  who  never  felt  their  necefiity,  or  fe- 
rioully  and  in  good  earneil,  applied  to  him.  It 
were  a  happy  thing,  if  all  among  our  hearers,  who 
call  for  evangelical  preaching,  who  quarrel  with  us 
when  they  think  we  do  not  preach  the  Saviour's 
crofs — the  loft  ftate  of  man,  and  the  dodrine  of 
free  grace,  were  experimentally  acquainted  with 
thefe  truths.  Many  fuch,  have  only  been  accus- 
tomed to  hear  the  Redeemer  fpokcn  of  with  reve- 
rence. They  may  be  able  to  imitate  the  language 
of  fome  of  his  fervants,  though  they  know  very 
little  of  that  brokennefs  of  fpirit,  which  accompa-i 
nies  true  repentance. 

But  left  this  ftiould  be  in  any  meafure  miftaken> 
I  muft  make  thefe  two  obfervations — The  firji  is, 
that  a  lively  fcnfe,  and  deep  conviction  of  fin,  is, 
properly  fpcaking,  but  a  negative  mark  of  true 
Religion;  giving  us  to  know,  that  the  unhumbled 
are  yet  impenitent — For  it  is  certain,  that  many 
have  been  under  very  ftrong  convictions,  nay,  have 
been  driven  to  the  very  borders  of  defpair  with 
terror,  who  yet  never  were  elfcvilually  changed,  bu^ 
ilified  their  convictions,  and  returned  to  their  for* 
jner  fecurity  ot  heart,  and  carelelihers  of  life. 

'      F 


50  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

Secondly y  there  may  be  fome  on  the  other  hand, 
who  arc  truly  born  of  God,  in  whom,  the  terrors  of 
convicfuion  have  not  been  s^ry  remarkable.  This 
happens  mofc  frequently  in  the  cafe  ot  thofe,  who  are 
Q^lled  in  their  infancy,  or  earlier  years,  and  who  have 
had  the  advantage  of  a  careful,  and  pious  educati- 
on. It  would  be  deftrucftive  of  the  comforts  of 
God's  children  to  lay  down  one  method,  in  which 
he  always  proceeds.  He  is  free  and  fovereign,  in 
the  manner  of  his  dealing  with  iinners ;  and  foftens 
fome  hearts  by  kindnefs,  as  well  as  others  by  cor- 
rection. So  that  if  the  end  be  brought  about,  we 
need  be  lefs  folicitous  about  the  fteps  of  his  proce- 
dure. Yet  I  think  humility  of  fpirit,  is  infepara- 
ble  from  real  Religion ;  and  if  it  be  lefs  viiible,  iii 
the  anguifli  of  repentance,  it  will  be  ftill  manifell 
in  the  temper  of  the  penitent. 

II.  Let  me  now  for  the  improvement  of  this 
fubjed:,  lay  down  a  few  of  the  beft  and  moft  folid 
evidences  of  genuine  con  victlion  of  fin.     And, 

I.  It  is  a  good  fign  that  convid:ion  is  genuine, 
when  there  is  a  clear  and  deep  appreheniion  of  the 
evil  of  fin,  as  well  as  the  dauger  of  it.  When  the 
mind  dwells  not  only  on  the  atrocity  of  particular 
crimes,  but  on  the  aggravation  of  all  lin,  as  fuch  : 
When  the  fniner  is  truly  offended  with  himfelf,  for 
departing  from  his  maker's  fervice;  breaking  his 
holy  laws ;  forgetting  or  defpiling  his  innumera- 
ble mercies :  There  may  be,  and  there  is  often  an 
apprehenfion  of  fuffering  when  there  is  little  fenfs 


WITHERSPOON;  51 

of  the  evil  of  fin  :  but  the  convidicn  is  then  genu- 
ine, when  it  makes  the  finner  not  only  remeniber 
i\'hat  he  has  done,  hut  conjejs^  what  he  has  dcfcrved. 

2.  It  is  a  good  evidence,  when  the  fenfeof  the 
evil  of  iin  abides  and  grows,  even  though  the  feaj: 
of  WTath^  may  in  a  great  meafure  have  abated. 

It  is  obfervable,  that  convi6lion  of  iin,  ufually 
takes  its  rife,  from  fome  grofs,  or  heinous  ads, 
which  firft  alarm  the  confcience,  and  in  fuch  a  fi- 
tuation,  the  attention  of  the  penitent  is  fixed  on 
nothing  elfe,  but  the  enormities  of  his  life.  If  this 
view  continues,  and  produces  its  effedts,  he  is  foon 
brought  to  fee,  and  confefs,  the  inherent  vanity  of 
his  heart ;  the  worldlinefs  of  his  affedlions ;  and 
the  unprohtablenefs  of  his  converfation.  It  is  a 
very  common  thing,  for  perfons  who  feem  to  have 
fome  fenfe  of  the  commiflion  of  crimes,  to  have 
little  or  no  fenfe  at  all,  of  the  negled  of  duty,  and 
of  living  daily  to  themfelves.  It  was  a  heavy 
charge,  hov/ever,  brought  by  the  Prophet  againft 
Bellhazzar: — And  the  God  in  whofe  hand  thy  breath 
iSy  and  whofe  are  all  thy  waysy  hajl  thou  7iot  glorified » 
Wherever  there  is  true  repentance,  though  there- 
may  be  the  greatell:  peace  of  mind,  there  will  be 
alfo  a  deep,  and  growing  fenfe,  of  the  evil  of  fin, 
and  the  obligation  of  being  habitually  devoted  tfl> 
God. 

3.  It  is  a  good  evidence,  when  there  is  a  con- 
tinued, and  growing  efteem  of  the  neceility,  ^'"id 
Value  of  the  mediation  of  Chrifl — It  was  ^  favc 


54  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

'  finners  that  he  came.  A  fenfe  of  iin  is  neceflary 
to  our  receiving  him ;  and  in  proportion  to  its 
ftrength,  will  certainly  be  our  attachment  to  him: 
This  indeed  is  the  great,  and  viral  principle,  of  the 
fpiritual  life — I  am  crurified  zvitb  Cbriji,  neverthe* 
lefs  I  live,  yet  not  7,  hut  Chrifi  liveth  in  me :  and  the 
life  zvhich  I  now  live  in  the  flejby  I  live  by  the  faith  of 
the  Son  of  God  ;  who  loved  me,  and  gave  himfelfto  die 

forme. 

4.  The  befl  and  furefl:  mark  of  real  convidion 
of  fin,  is,  if  it  leaves  you  poiTelTed  of  a  deep  ha- 
tred, and  abhorrence  of  it,  and  a  daily  folicitude 
to  fly  from  it.  Some  may  counterfeit  a  fenfe  of 
the  evil  of  fin,  to  their  own  hearts ;  may  have  a 
real  fear  of  its  bitter  confequences ;  and  even  a 
prefumptuous  reliance  on  Chrifi  for  pardon;  snd 
yet  may  in  fome  inftances,  adhere  to  the  practice 
of  it. 

Floods  of  tears  from  fuch  a  -perfon,  avail  no- 
thing :  but  he,  hath  certainly,  truly  forrowed  for 
lin,  who  in  his  practice  forfakes  it : — that  is  to  fay, 
he  is  not  willingly  fubjecl  to  any  known  fm, — but 
fays  with  Elihu,  That  which  I  fee  not  teach  thou  me: 
Jfl  have  done  iniquity ,  I  will  do  no  more. 

III.  Let  me  befeech  all  ferious  perfons,  to  im- 
prove this  fubjed:  for  the  trial  of  their  flate.  Ex- 
amine, by  the  principles  above  laid  down,  the  re- 
ality, and  the  progrcfs  of  Religion  in  your  fouls. 
Have  you  a  growing  fenfe  of  the  evil  of  fin,  and  of 


WITHERSPOON.  53 

your  own  unworthinefs  ? — This  is  at  once  an  evi- 
dence, and  a  mean,  of  growth  in  grace.  He  that 
thinks  lead  of  himfelf,  is  higheft  in  God's  account; 
and  the  more  a  believer  increafes  in  holinefs  and 
real  worth,  the  more  he  increafes  in  humility.  As 
it  is  an  evidence,  it  is  alfo  a  mean,  of  further  im- 
provement ;  for  he  that  hath  the  deepeit  fenfe  of 
his  unworthinefs  and  weakncfs,  will  certainly  live 
moil  by  faith,  in  the  merit  and  grace  of  his  Re- 
deemer. 

Therefore,  Chriftians,  try  yourfelves  by  this 
important  lign.  Whether  do  you,  by  religious 
duties,  build  yourfelves  up  on  felf-righteoufnefs,  or 
do  you  only  learn  by  them,  how^  far  you  fall  (hort 
of  what  is  incumbent  on  you  ?  What  innumerable 
evils  compafs  you  about?  and  therefore,  how 
much  you  hare  need  of  mercy  inftead  of  reward  ? 
Do  you  look,  upon  the  works  of  righteoufnefs 
which  you  have  done,  as  fomething,  by  which  you 
9nerit  at  the  hand  of  God ;  or  do  you  look  upon 
them,  as  the  evidence  of  his  own  work  in  you,  and 
for  you,  and  give  him  the  glory,  to  whom  it  is 
due? 

IV.  I  fhall  now  conclude  the  w'hole,  with  a  few 
diredlions  for  producing  and  preferving  this  pro- 
fitable fenfe,  and  conviction  of  fin.     And, 

I .  Let  me  beg  of  every  hearer,  the  ferious  con- 
fideration  of  himfelf,  and  his  ways.  Many  have 
no  fenfe  of  their  finfulnefs,  bccaufe  they  have  no 


54  W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N. 

know  ledge  of  themfelves  at  all ;  but  go  through 
the  world,  in  uninterrupted  thoughtleffhefs,  and 

vnconccrn.  Is  there  any  thing  of  greater  moment 
than  the  ftate  of  your  minds,  aniX  your  hope  to- 
wards God  ?  Inattention,  is  perhaps  a  more  unU 
verfal  caufe  of  impiety,  than  high  handed,  and  ob^ 
i^inate  profanity.  Would  you  but  ferioufly  confi- 
cjer  your  ways,  and  lay  to  heart  the  things  that  be- 
long to  your  peace^  I  would  count  it  a  hopeful  cir- 
cumdance  ;  and  exped,  you  would  fpeedily  fee 
your  danger,  and  God  in  his  mercy  would  lead  you 
to  the  cure. 

2.  Give  yourfelves  much  to  reading,  and  hear- 
ing the  v/ord  of  God.  The  entrance  of  his  word, 
giveth  light. — It  is  profitable  for  do6frine,  for  re- 
proof, and  correclion  :  but  it  is  particularly  necef- 
fary  for  convi^ion  ;  for  by  the  law  is  the  knowledge 
of  lin.  What  wonder,  if  thofe  who  never  open  a 
bible,  ZitA  feldom  enter  into  the  houfe  of  God, 
fhould  be  ignorant  of  their  guilt  and  mifery?  The 
word  of  God  fhews  his  right  in  you,  pleads  his 
caufe,  and  challenges  your  apoftacy.  It  is  exceed- 
ingly rare  that  thofe  who  have  fairly  turned  their 
baclcs  upon  God's  inffituted  worlhip,  are  dif^urb- 
ed  in  their  fecurity ;  but  are  fuffercd  to  fleep  on^ 
till  they  fleep  the  fleep  of  death.  But  it  frequent- 
ly happens,  that  thofe  who  attend  ordinances, 
even  from  no  higher  principle  than  ^uriofity,  cuf- 
tom,  or  form,  find  that  the  word  of  God  is  a  fire 
€nd  hammar,   that  brcakcth   the  rock  in  pieces; 


W  I  T  H  E  R  S  P  O  O  N.  55 

ih.at  it  is  quick  and  powerful,  Jharper  than  any  two 
edged  fzvord,  piercingy  even  to  the  dividing  a/under  of 
Joiil  andfpirity  and  joints  and  marrow,  and  is  a  dij^ 
cerner  of  the  thoughts,  and  intents  of  the  heart, 

3.  In  the  lafc  place.  Let  me  befeech  you,  of- 
ten to  feat  yourfelves,  in  the  immediate  prefence  of 
God,  or  rather,  frequently  to  recolledt,  that  you 
can  no  where  go  from  his  fpirit,  or  fly  from  his 
prefence.  There  is,  if  I  may  fpeak  fo,  a  light  and 
glory  in  the  prefence  of  God,  that  difcerns,  and 
difclofes  the  works  of  darknefs.  We  may  often 
cxcufe,  or  palliate  our  condudl  to  men,  and  even 
hide  its  deformity  from  our  own  view,  when  we 
could  not  juflify  it  to  ourfelves,  if  we  refleclcd, 
that  //  is  open  and  manifefl,  in  the  fight  of  God, — If 
therefore  there  is  any  thing  in  your  pradcice,  which 
you  are  inclined  to  palliate,  and  apt  to  excufe — 
fuppofe,  you  were  ftanding  at  the  judgment  feat  of 
Chrill,  where  all  of  us  fhall  fhortly  be ;  and  think, 
whether  your  excufes  will  then  liand  the  teft  of  his 
impartial  fearch. 

If  our  hearts  condemn  us  not,  God  is  greater 
than  our  hearts,  and  knoweth  all  things.  It  is 
therefore  the  duty,  and  interell  of  every  finner,  to 
take  fliame  and  confufion  of  face  to  himfclf,  and 
apply  to  the  blood  of  jprinkling,  which  fpeaketh  be-iter 
things ^  than  the  blood  of  Abel. 


■n— »aiiL_nn«  I 


SERMON      IV. 

The  SALVATION  OF  SINNERS,  otrly  by  iiit 
BLOOD  OF  JESUS. 

B    Y 

ALEXANDER  MACM^EtO RTER,  D.  D, 

Paflor  of  the  Firil  Frefbyterian  Church,  at  Newark,  Nevvjerfe^* 


I     Cor.     v.  7. 

Por  even  Chrifi  our  paffover  is  facrljiced  for  us* 

THERE  is  in  this  pafTage  a  direcl  alliiiion 
to  the  Jewiih  feaft,  or  facramenti  called  tlie 
pafTover;  and  to  the  method  of  obferving  it,  en- 
joined by  God  at  its  original  inftitution.  The  in-^ 
flitiition  itfelf,  with  the  occalion  and  manner  of 
obferving  it,  are  particularly  recorded  in  Exodus. 
The  whole  ceconomy  of  providence  tov.ards  the, 
Jewifh  nation,  efpecially,  from  the  time  they  firfl 
came  into  Egypt,  until  their  fctticment  in  the 
land  of  Canaan,  is  typical.  Their  Egyptian  bon- 
dage >'as  perhaps  intended  by  God,  to  ll•lado^v 
forth  the  natural  ftatc  of  man,  with  refpcd  to  fpi- 
ritual  things  ;  and  their  miraculous  deliverance 
by  the  hand  of  Mofcs,  clearl)-  pointed,  to  the  re- 


j8  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

covery  of  fallen  iinncrs  by  Jcfus  Chrill".  There  i^ 
no  condudt  of  Providence,  wherein  the  wifdom  of 
God  fhines  with  more  glory  and  evidence,  than  in 
the  exadlnefs,  in  which  the  fpirit  of  the  New  Tef- 
tament,  anfwers  to  the  letter  of  the  Old  ;  the  llia- 
dows  to  the  fubllance ;  the  figures  to  the  things 
prefigured  ;  and  the  types  to  the  antitypes.  He, 
who  will  humbly,  and  carefully  compare  them, 
will  not  fail  of  obtaining  great  conviction,  and  in- 
formation, with  regard  to  the  divinity  of  the  fcrip- 
tures ;  and  entire  fatisfaclion,  with  reipcd:  to  moft 
of  thofe  points,  about  which,  the  ChriRian  vv^orld 
are  fo  much  divided.  The  Old  and  New  Tefla- 
ments  do  mutually  illuflrate  each  other.  The  Old 
would  not  be  equally  clear,  without  the  New :  the 
New,  in  many  parts,  would  be  dark  and  unintelli- 
gible, without  the  Old.  Our  text  is  an  inllance 
of  the  truth  of  this  remark. 

What  fliould  we  be  able  to  make  of  this  New 
Tefbament  dodlrine,  that  Cbrift  is  our  paffovcr^  \^crc 
it  not  for  the  light  and  afTi fiance  we  have  from  the 
Old  Teflament  ? — But  from  both,  we  eafily  learn, 
Xbat  the  paflbver  was  a  type  of  Jefus  Chrilt :  it 
was  intended  by  God  to  be  of  this  nature  and  ufc. 
The  pafchal  lamb  had  a  direcl  reference  to  Jefus,  as 
the  Lamb  of  God.  It  was  obferved  by  true  be- 
lievers under  the  Old  Teflament  in  this  view: 
their  faith  beheld  Chriff  in  the  inflitution.  The 
Epiflle  to  the  Hebrews  tells  us,  that  byfaiih  Mofes 
ke^t  the  pnjfover^  and  the  fprinkliftg  of  blood. 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R.  59 

The  mod  eafy  method,  therefore,  of  explaining 
the  truth  contained  in  the  text,  will  be,  by  con- 
trading  the  type,  and  the  antitype.  We  (hall  befl: 
underfland  what  we  are  taught,  when  Chriil  is  cal- 
led our pajf over t  by  attending  to  the  original  infti- 
tution  of  this  ordinance  among  the  Jews ;  and 
pointing  out  the  refemblance  it  bears,  to  Jefus 
Chrijt  the  Mediator.  This  I  iliall  endeavor  to  ^o, 
in  the  following  particulars. 

I.  The  paflbver  was  appointed,  when  God  was 
about  to  deltroy  all  the  firft-born  in  the  land  of 
Egypt.  They  w^ere  all  doomed  to  deftru6lion  by 
the  divine  decree,  without  exception.  Mofes  de- 
clares to  Pharaoh  :  Thus  faith  the  Lord,  about  mid- 
nighty  I  will  go  out  into  the  midft  of  Egypt ^  and  all  the 
jirft-born  in  the  land  of  Egypt  fhall  die,  from  the  firf^ 
born  of  Pharaoh  that  fitteth  on  the  throne y  even  to  the 
fujl-born  of  the  maidfcrvanty  that  is  behind  the  mill^ 
and  all  jirji -born  of  be  aft  s. 

On  this  awful  occafion  was  the  paiTover  infli- 
tuted  by  God,  and  appointed  to  the  Ifraelites. 

In  like  manner,  Jefus  Chriil:  was  appointed, 
when  all  the  human  race  were  by  the  fentencc  of 
the  divine  law,  doomed  to  everlafting  deftruclion, 
from  the  prefence  of  the  Lord,  and  glory  of  his  power. 
Eternal  death  was  fixed,  as  the  demerit,  and  pu- 
nilhment  of  man's  violating  that  law,  under  which 
God  had  placed  him.  In  the  day  thou  cat  eft  thereof^ 
ihoiijhalt  furcly  die^ 


6o  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

The  head  of  the  human  race,  with  whom  God 
tranfacled  for  himfelf  and  all  his  pofterity,  violated 
the  conditudon  eftablilhed  with  him^  and  ruined 
himfelf;  and  the  whole  race,  was  ruined  in,  and 
with  him.  They  all  finned,  and  became  guilty 
in  their  head  and  reprefentative.  By  one  man  fin 
entered  into  the  world,  and  death  by  fin,  and  fo  death 
fnffed  upon  all  men,  for  thai  all  have  finned. 

On  this  occafion,  the  whole  race  of  mankind, 
through  all  their  generations,  were  doomed  by  the 
fentence  of  God's  righteous  law,  to  everlafiingper^ 
dition.  The  fentence  was  righteous :  the  doom 
was  juft ;  and  it  would  have  been  infinitely  fit  in 
God,  to  have  executed  the  fame.  If  this  had  been 
done,  each  of  us  who  are  here  prefent,  w^ould  have 
been  now  in  chains  of  eternal  darkncfs  and  def- 
pair.  That  this  would  be  the  event  of  man's  apof- 
facy,  was  no  doubt  expedled  by  all  the  elecl  An- 
gels. They  had  {ztx\  the  iflue  of  rebellion  in  the 
cafe  of  their  fallen  companions ;  and  if  they  could 
argue  only  from  fadl,  no  other  conclufion  could  be 
mi^de  by  them,  than  the  damnation  ofmankind. 

In  this  lofi  and  ruined  condition  of  mankind, 
when  they  were  all  under  the  curfe,  and  cxpofed 
to  everlafting  dcfirudlion,  Jefus  Chrifi,  became  in 
the  appointment  of  God,  our  pajfover,  God  confti- 
tuted  Adam  our  firfl  covenant  head  ;  and  he  con-« 
iiituted  Chrifi-,  our  fecond  covenant  head.  Adam's 
bcadihip  was  an  image  or  type  of  Chrift's.     In  re-» 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R.  6i 

gard  to  this  appointment,  Chrifl  is  called  the  Lamb 
Jlain^  from  the  foundation  of  the  world. 

II.  The  paflovcr  was  originally  appointed,  as 
the  only  method,  for  the  Ifraelites'  efcaping  the 
deflrudion,  God  intended  to  execute  on  the  Egyp- 
tians. The  account  of  the  inftitution  renders  the 
obfervation  evident :  for  when  God  had  ordained 
nit  folemnity,  and  the  manner  of  obferving  it,  he 
gives  the  following  reafon  of  the  ordinance. — For 
1  will  pafs  through  the  land  of  Egypt  this  night,  and 
wiilfmite  all  the  firft-born  in  the  land  of  Egypt,  both 
man  and  beaji :  and  againft  all  the  Gods  of  Egypt,  1 
ixjill  ex>e cute  judgment :  I  am  the  Lord.  And  the  blood 
fhall  be  to  you  a  token  on  the  houfes  where  you  are,  and 
when  I  fee  the  blood,  I  will  pafs  over  you,  and  the 
plague  fhall  not  be  on  you  to  defiroy  you,  zvhen  If  mite 
the  land  of  Egypt, 

This  dedrudtion  of  the  Egyptians  was  figura- 
tive :  the  method  appointed  to  the  Ifraelites  for 
efcaping  this  dcflruclion,  was  alfo  figurative.  The 
former,  rcfpevScd  the  effect  of  God's  wrath  for  fin, 
m  the  eternal  damnation  of  finners  ;  the  latter,  the 
only  way  of  deliverance  from  this  milefy.  Ac- 
cordingly Jefus  Chrifl  is  our  prtHover,  as  by  him 
O'lly,  can  we  efcape  the  wrath  and  curfe  of  God, 
"due  to  us  for  fin— He  is  ordained  of  God  for  this 
purpofe.  He  is  the  wifdom  and  power  of  God  IjjJ, 
falvation,  to  every  one  that  believeth.  There  is 
no  name  but  Clirill's,  by  which  fiiiners  can  be  fav^ 


62  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

ed.     There  is  no  pofTibility  of  efcaping  the  wrath 
of  God,  but  by  him.     In  vain,  is  falvation  hopcd^ 
or  fought  for  in  other  ways ;  from  the  hills  and 
from  the  mountains,  from  this,  or  from  that  courfe ; 
for  Jcfus  Chrift  is  the  irue  and  only  fajfover.     Vain 
are  the  attempts  of  guilty,  affrighted  mortals,  to 
avert  the  impending  vengeance.     All  the  various 
inventions  and  pradiices  of  a  mind,  diftracled  with 
the  guilt  of  fni  and  dread  of  hell,  are  but  as  bub- 
ble before  the  devouring  flame.     And  he  who  has 
never  felt  this  truth,  has  never  yet  fled  to  the  only 
ark  of  Jafetyy  from  divine  vengeance,     ^he  wraib 
of  God  ahideth  on  him  ;  and  his  jealoufy  will  f moke 
againft  that  fnan.     And  unlefs  the  eyes  of  fuch  a 
iinner  be  foon  opened,  to  fee  himfelf,  and  God, 
and  Chrifl-,  in  a  manner  that  he  never  has ;  in  a 
manner,  that  fhall  fiake  down  all  his  prefeut  hopes 
and  confidences  to  the  foundation,  the  ftorms  of  God's 
unquenchable  fury  will   quickly  do  it.    7he  hail 
JJjail  fwecp  away  the  refuge  of  lies,  and  the  zvaters 
overflow  the  hiding  place.     Hear  this,  ye  that  for- 
get God  :  hear  this,  ye  that  compafs  yourfelves  a- 
bout  ^'\\\\  f parks  ofyourozvn  kindling:  ye  lb  all  have 
this  at  God's  hands  ;  ye  foall  lie  down  in  forrozv  ! 
Let  no  iinner  blefs  himfelf  in  his  heart  when  he  hear- 
eth  the  words  of  this  curfe  :  faying,  I  fhall  have 
peace,  though  I  walk  in  the  ira  agination  of  mine  heart. 
Let  no  fmner  behave  himfelf  proudly.     God  hath 
faid  it,  and  he  will  perform.     Were  it  the  threat- 
ning  of  a  Man,  or  Angel,  you  might  defy  his  mi- 
naces :  but  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah/^/^//^  roar^ 


MACWHORTER.  63 

ei,  who  zvill  not  fear  f — The  Lord  God  hathfpoken : 
who  can  but  prophecy  ? 

III.  The  Ifraeltics  were  as  liable  to  the  threaten- 
ed deftrudion,  as  the  Egyptians,  as  to  any  thing  in 
themfelves,  or  belonging  to  thenn,  which  diilin- 
guifhed  them,  as  a  ground  of  pre-eminence,  or 
reafon  of  exemption  from  the  common  ruin.  This 
remark  is  obvious,  from  the  account  of  the  pafchal 
inftitution.  ^The  nature  of  the  paiTover  fuppofeth 
the  truth  of  this  obfervation  ;  that  there  was  no- 
thing in  the  Jew,  confidered  in  himfelf  to  diftinguiili 
him  from  the  Egyptian.  The  one  was  no  more 
worthy  of  favor  than  the  other.  The  Ifraelites 
confidered  in  themfelves,  as  much  merited  de- 
ftrudion,  as  the  Egyptians.  There  was  nothing 
marked  out  the  one  for  favor,  more  than  the  other : 
but  the  fovercign  God  made  the  difference,  and 
appointed  the  fign  of  diftindion.  Thus  it  is  in 
the  cafe  of  every  finner  faved  by  Jefus  Chrifi .  He 
fees  nothing  in  himfelf,  from  firfl  to  lafl,  to  dif- 
tinguifh,  or  recommend  him  to  the  favor  of  God, 
above  the  vileft  monfter  that  walks  the  earth. 
This  is  the  fincere  and  undiilcmbled  language  of 
his  heart  through  the  whole  courfe  of  his  life,  after 
he  has  become  acquainted  with  the  truth.  '  }Vhy 
me  Lordf — Why  was  I  taken  and  another  left  ? 
Why  was  I  diftinguiflied  from  the  mofl:  tormented 
wretch  that  is  now  in  hell  ?  Why  was  God's  grace 
beflowed  on  me  ?  Why  have  I  a  part  in  Chrid 
graated  me,  while  fo  many  others,  who  I  am  fyre. 


64  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

are  not  worfe  in  themfelves  than  I  am,  if  fo  bad.^ 
arc  fufFered  to  perifli  in  rejcdinghim  ?'  He  caa 
find  no  manner  of  reafon  for  this  di  Hind  ion,  but. 
Even  Jo  Father  forfo  it  Jecmcd  good  in  thy  fight. — 
Where  is  hoqfting  then  f  It  is  excluded.  By  what 
law?  of  works  f  Nay^  but  by  the  lazv  of  faith. 

Did  not  the  fovereign  God  make  the  difference 
between  the  firfl-born  of  Ifrael,  and  the  firft-bora 
of  Pharaoh  ?  Was  not  fovereign  mercy,  greatly 
difplayed,  in  faving  the  one,  while  the  other 
was  flain ;  when  both  in  themfelves  were  equally 
liable  to  dellrud:ion  ?  So,  fovereign  grace  through 
Jefus  Chrifl,  fhines  with  infinite  luftre,  in  faving 
fome  finners  from  eternal  miferv  ;  while  others  are 
left  to  perifh  in  their  iniquities ;  who  by  nature 
were  not  worfe  than  they.  And  thus  the  faint, 
from  his  converfion,  to  the  day  of  his  death,  has 
continual  conviclion,  that  the  whole  of  his  falva- 
tion,  is  owing  to  the  mofi  free  favor ^  and  unmerited 
grace. 

IV.  The  killing  of  the  pafchal  lamb,  was  not 
fiifficient  to  fave  them  from  the  ftroke  of  the  def- 
troying  Angel,  unlefs  the  pofls  and  lintlesofthe 
doors  were  fprinkled  with  its  blood.  This  was  of 
cflcntial  eonfequence.  This  >\  as  the  great  thing 
to  be  done,  after  killing  the  lamb,  in  order  to  have 
any  benefit  from  the  inflitution.  The  whole 
tranfadlion  was  ufelefs,  in  ncgledl  of  this  circum- 
liance.  If  the  blood  was  not  thus  fprinkled,  they 
were  equally  expofed  to  ruin,  as  if  no  part  of  the 


MACWHORTER.  65 

inftitution  had  been  complied  with.  Though 
they  had  killed  the  palTover,  had  eaten  of  it,  and 
obfcrvcd  the  inliitutcd  feall,  yet  all  would  be  of 
no  avail  to  fave  them  from  the  dellroyer,  //  the 
hloodzvas  not  fprinJded  on  the  doors.  Thus  it  is  with 
refpedl  to  Jefus  Chrift,  the  true  pallbver.  He  has 
been  flain,  as  the  Lamb  of  God,  zvbo  takeih  away 
the  fins  of  the  world — His  blood  has  been  llied. 
He  poured  out  his  foul  unto  death.  He  offered 
himfelf  a  facrifice,  an  offering  of  fweet  fmelling 
favor  unto  God,  and,  by  his  own  blood,  hath  enter- 
ed into  the  holiefl  of  all.  But  this  will  be  of  no 
avail  to  us  ifzve  are  not  f pr inkle d  zvith  it.  With- 
out this,  the  death  of  Chrift  will  have  no  falutary 
cffedl  with  regard  to  us.  The  cafe  will  be  even- 
tually the  fame  to  us  as  if  Chrift  had  never  died. 

Chrift  will  profit  us  nothing.     His  death  will  not 
fave  us  from  death. 

Let  it  therefore  be  folemnly  attended  to,  that 
the  ftiedding  of  Chrift's  blood  will  be  of  no  avail 
to  your  falvation,  unlefs  you  be  fprinkled  with  it. 
This  is  the  true  blood  of  fprinkling,  that  can  di- 
vert the  ftroke  of  juftice ;  that  can  purge  the  con- 
fcience  from  dead  works,  and  from  the  guilt  of  fin, 
zvhen  the  (werfl  ozjoing  fccurge  fh all  pafs  through.  The 
fprinkling  of  the  blood  of  Jcfus  is  the  only  de- 
fence againft  the  wrath  of  God.  Happy  the  foul 
who,  when  God  fhall  rife  to  judgment,  will  be 
found  fprinkled  with  this  blood,  which  fpcakcth 
better  things  than  the  blood  of  Abel.  But  indigo 
nation  andzvraih^  trihulation  and  anguijh  to  e^vcry  one, 

H 


66  MACWHORTER. 

that  is  then  found  unfprinkled  with  the  blood  of 
Jcfus. 

How  it  ITands  with  you,  my  hearers,  in  regard  to' 
this  matter,  becomes  you  earneftly  to  enquire. 
It  is  of  more  importance  to  you,  than  all  the  other 
affairs  of  life  befides.  A.nd  yet,  perhaps,- there  is 
not  a  few  in  this  alTembly,  who  never  madfe  it  any 
part  of  your  care,  in  all  your  lives,  and  to  this  mo- 
ment are  entirely  carclefs  about  it.  Alas  !  what 
hath  bewitched  you,  that  you  lliould  not  flee  from 
the  wrath  to  come  ?  What  will  you  do,  when  God 
fhall  whet  his  glittering  fword,  and  his  hand  inall 
take  hold  on  vengeance  ?  If  you  are  never  fprink- 
led  with  the  blood  of  Jefus,  the  juilice  of  God  will 
avenge  itfelf  in  your  blood. 

V.  It  was  not  the  a6l  of  the  Ifraelites,  in 
fprinkling  the  blood  of  the  lamb  on  the  pods,  and 
lintles  of  their  doors,  that  God  had  refped:  to, 
when  he  palled  them  over,  while  he  deflroyed  the 
Egyptians.  It  was  not,  I  fay,  their  ad:  or  obedi- 
ence that  God  looked  at,  and  on  account  of  which 
he  fpared  them  :  but  it  was  the  blood  itfelf ^  to  which 
he  had  refped,  and  on  account  of  which  he  palled 
them  by. — The  blood  fecn  on  the  pofts  of  their 
doors,  was  the  thing  which  fccured  them  fromdef- 
trudion,  and  to  which  God  had  d^wexdifive  rfpe^, 
when  he  went  through  the  land,  deflroying  all  the 
firrt-born  of  the  Egyptians,  and  palling  ova  the 
Ifraelites. 


MACWHORTER.  67 

Thus  is  the  matter  reprefented  in  the  above 
cited  chapter.  And  the  blood  Jhall  he  to  you  for  a 
token  upon  the  houfes  where  you  are^  and  when  I  fee  the 
bloody  I  zvill  pafs  over  you,  and  the  plague  fh  all  not  he 
upon  you  to'  dejlroy  you,  ivhen  I  fmite  the  land  of  Egypt, 
And  again-^-^/^t'//  the  Lord  feetb  the  blood  on  the 
Untie  and  on  the  two  fide  pofts,  the  Lord  will  pafs  over 
the  door,  and  will  not  fuffer  the  dejiroyer  to  come  in  to 
fmite  you. — Hence  you  fee,  the  blood  is  the  only- 
thing,  to  which  God  had  refped  in  fparing  them 
from  deftrudlion. 

Thus  exactly  flands  the  cafe,  with  refpedl  to  Jefus 
Chrifb  the  true  paflbver.  This  blood  of  the  pafchal 
lamb  reprefented  the  blood  of  Chrift,  and  the  fprink- 
ling  thereof  prefigured  the  fprinkling  of  the  blood 
of  Jefus.     What  God  had  refped:  to  in  the  figure, 
wiien  he  paifed  by  the  Ifraelites,  to  that  he  has  ref- 
ped:  in  the  fubilance,  when  he  pafleth  by  guilty 
finners,  and  favcs  them  from  deferved  dcftrudiion 
iorever.    Thefe  things  teach  us  diredly,  what  Goa 
has   refpcvfl  to  when  he  pardons  penitent  linnets, 
and  bellows  falvationupon  them.     It  is  not  to  any 
thing  in  them  he  has  regard,  as  the  reafon  of  his 
acquitting  them  from  condemnation.     It  is  not 
for  their  obedience,   their  faith,  or  any  thing  in 
them  whatever,  but  entirely ^  and  exclufivehy  for  the 
fake  of  the  blood  of  Chrift.     It  is  this  alone  God 
has   rcfpecl  to,   in  jullifying  thofe  that  believe. 
The  cafe  is  here  as  it  v\as  with  the  Ifraelites  :  it 
was  the  blood  of  the  lamb  fprinkied  on  the  dooi.  j> 


68  MACWHORTER. 

of  the  latter,  to  which  God  folely  had  rcfpcdl  and 
fparcd  them :  it  is  to  the  blood  of  Chrift,  God  en- 
tirely has  refped,  in  the  jultificationof  the  former. 

This  likewife  teaches  us  to  what  zve  are  to  have 
refped;,  as  the  only  ground  of  our  acceptance  with 
God  :  for  we  muft  have  regard  to  the  fame  thing 
in  fxpe^ing  jiiftijication^  which  God  has  in  grant- 
ing it.  We  muft  have  refpecSt  to  Chrift's  merit 
and  righteoufncfs  exclufively ;  not  to  our  obedience, 
our  faith,  repentance,  or  any  thing  clfe  as  the 
pleadable  matter  of  our  acceptance,  or  the  reafon 
and  ground  of  our  pardon. 

I  am  particular  here,  my  brethren,  becaufc  I 
know  your  life  is  in  it.  If  you  miflake  the  ground 
•  of  acceptance  with  God,  you  are  ruined.  If  you 
place  your  obedience,  or  any  acls  or  w^orks  of  your 
own,  in  the  room  of  Chrift's  righteoufncfs,  you 
niuft  perifli.  'T^hoje^  who  go  about  to  eftahlijh  their 
czmi  righteoufncfs  J  fab  mit  not  to  the  right  eoifnefs  of  God; 
and  thofe,  who  fubmit  not  to  the  righteoufncfs  of 
God  in  the  Gofpel,  muft  perijlo  forever.  It  is  to 
the  righteoufncfs  of  the  Gofpel  God  has  refped, 
in  juflifying  believing  finners ;  and  it  is  to  this, 
you  have  refped  entirely,  if  you  are  true  believers: 
for  it  is  the  nature  of  evangelical  faith,  to  look  to 
Chrifl's  righteoufncfs  only. 

A  perfuafion  that  this  is  the  only  thing  that  can 
recommend  a  linncr  to  God,  accounting  all  things 
elfc  but  drofs  and  dung  with  regard  to  this  mat- 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R.  69 

ter,  are  infeparable  concomitants  of  true  faith;  or, 
I  may  fay,  belong  to  the  very  nature  of  it. 

VI.  Ail  were  faved  from  dcftrudlion,  on  whofc 
doors  the  blood  of  the  lamb  was  fprinklcd,  while 
the  plague  fwept  off  the  Egyptians  all  around  them. 

While  the  firft-bornof  the  Egyptians  were  flairt 
by  thoufands,  the  Ifraelites  were  fafe,  and  no  harm 
happened  to  them— the  wrath  of  God,  the  pefti. 
Icnce  that  walketb  in  darhiefs  came  not  nigh  them. 

Thus,  fhall  all  thofe  be  faved  from  deftrudi- 
on.   who  are  fprinkled  with  the  blood  of  Jcfus 
the  true  paiTover.     There  is  now  no  wrath  abid- 
ing   on  them,    nor   any  vengeance  in  rcferve 
When   God  fecth  this   blood  on  them,  he  will 
pafs  over  them.     He  will  fpare  them  as  a  man 
Ipareth  his  own  fon.     This  blood  will  never  loofe 
Its  efficacy,  nor  power  with  God.     It  is  of  a>^^/ 
/mM„g  favor  to  him.     This  is  the  apoftolic  lan- 
guage to  exprefs  its  acceptablenefs  to  God.    Great 
IS  the  delight  which  the  Lord  God  Almighty 
takes  m  receiving  thofe  to  favor,  who  are  fprink- 
lcd with  this  blood. 

I  muff  not  enter  further  into  this  fubied  at 
prefent.  Many  frriking  inftances  of  refcmblance 
between  the  typical  and  true  paffover  yet  remain: 
but  left  I  fl,ould  be  tedious,  I  muft  omit  them  at 
this  time,  and  conclude  with  fome  improvement. 

I.  How  illuftrious  the  wifdom,  and  how  diflin- 
guifhing  the  grace  and  love  of  God  in  our  falvati- 


^o  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

on!  Behold  what  infinite  love,  that  God  JJjould  fo 
love  the  zvorld,  as  to  give  his  only  begotten  Son,  that 
ivhofoever  helieveth  on  him  might  not  perip,  hut  have 
everlafiing  life :  that  God  Hioul  d  fend  his  own  Son  in- 
to the  world,  that  we  might  not  perilh  who  believe 
on  him :  that  God's  eternal  Son  fliould  be  made  a 
fervant,  that  we  might  be  made  the  fons  of  God  : 
that  he  fliould  be  made  fin  that  we  might  be  made 
righteous:  that  he  fiiould  die,  that  we  might  live; 
that  he  fiiouid  fijffer  the  curie  of  the  law  and  the 
punifhrnent  of  fin,  that  we  might  be  delivered 
from  the  curfe,  and  redeemed  from  punifnment : 
that  his  blood  fiiould  be  Ihed,  that  by  the  fprink^ 
ling  of  it,  we  might  be  delivered  from  eternal  def- 
trudion :  that  he  fhouid  beourpafibver,  and  that  the 
vengeance  ihould  light  on  him,  that  was  due  to  us, 
are  indeed  myfieries  of  grace,  and  arguments  of 
love,  which  pafs  all  underftanding.     They  ought 
never  to  be  thought  of  by  us,  but  with  rapture  and 
aftonifhment.     When  we  confidcr,   who  it  was 
that  condcfcended  thus ;  not  an  Angel,  but  the 
Lord  of  Angels ;  not  fome  exalted  creature  lifted 
up  in  excellency  and  dignity  far  above  us  ;  but  the 
Creator,  God  over  all  blejfed  forever.     Who  but  is 
loft  in  fweet  furprife,  and  humble  adoration  1 

This  grace  of  God  is  fo  inconceivably  great, 
that  the  faints,  during  their  abodes  in  thcfe  taber- 
nacles, cannot  bear  any  great  view  of  it.  It  would 
diirolve  their  frame:  it  exceeds  our  utmx)ft 
thoughts. 


4 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R.  71 

When  we  confider  for  whom  Chrifl:  fufTered  and 
died  ;  for  creatures,  mean,  and  iniignificant  crea- 
tures ;  for  rebellious  creatures,  incapable  of  ever 
being  profitable  to  him :  in  the  eternal  rejedion 
of  whom,  his  juftice  would  have  (hone  with  a  con- 
fpicuous  ray,  and  been  admired  by  all  the  choirs 
above. 

Well  may  we  break  out  in  the  language  of  afto- 

nifliment,  overborn  with  the  grace  of  God,  What 

manner  of  love  is  this  f— well  hath  God  faid— My 

ivays  are  not  like  your  zvays,  nor  my  thoughts  as  your 
thoughts. 

Who  is  not  by  fuch  a  difplay  convinced,  that  the 
Gofpel  is  not  a  cunningly  devijed fable ;  but  an  amaz- 
ing, and  glorious  difplay  of  the  nature  and  perfec- 
tions of  God  ?  How  wonderful,  how  godlike  is  the 
work  of  redemption !  Itfeems  to  exceed  the  works  of 
Creation,  although  thefe  fnew  forth  the  divine  pow- 
er and  godhead  ;  even  as  the  light  of  the  fun,  ex. 
ceeds  that  of  a  faint  and  languid  flar. 

II.  As  we  are  here  taught,  that  unXth  we  are 
fprmkled  with  the  blood  of  Jefljs,  his  death  and 
atonement  will  finally  be  of  no  avail  to  us:  we 
ought  to  enquire,  my  brethren,  with  all  dilfgen^^e 
whether  we  are  fprinklcd  with  this  blood,  yea  or 
nay  ?  This  is  the  only  blood  that  fpeaketh  better 
things  than  the  blood  of  Abe).  If  you  are  nor 
fprinkled  with  it,  and  die  thus,  t>etter  you  had  ne- 
ver been  born.  Oh !  therefore,  look  into  this  mat- 
i<^r.     As  you    value  your  own  fulvation  enquire 


72  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

into  it.  As  you  would  not  be  forever  rejedled  of 
God,  fee  to  it,  that  the  blood  of  Chrifl  heiiponyon— 
You  have  an  example  before  you  of  the  certain 
confequence  of  being  without  this  blood  fprink- 
led  on  you,  in  the  deftrudion  of  the  Egyptians. 
'1  hey  are  enfamples  unto  us.  Wherefore,  my  dear 
hearers,  look  into  your  own  hearts  and  lives  to  day; 
and  let  the  fmgle  enquiry  which  you  make  at  your 
ov/n  confciences,  be  thus,  with  each  one:  'Am  I 
fprinkled  v^ith  the  blood  of  Jefus,  cr  not?  Have  I 
ever  been  effedualiy  convinced  of  my  loft,  and  un- 
done eftate  by  nature,  and  practice  ?  Have  I  ever 
feen  the  exceeding  great  evil,  and  defert  of  fm  ? 
Has  fin  ever  been  imbittered  to  my  foul,  fo  that 
I  have  been  pricked  at  my  heart,  and  made  to  cry 
out,  Whatjhall  I  do  to  bejqroed  r 

Have  you,  my  audience,  ever  feen  that  it  would 
be  juft  in  God  to  caft  you  off  forever,  and  have 
vour  hearts  funk,  and  fainted  under  the  view  ? 
Have  you  felt  yourfelves  without  iTrength  to  make 
atonement  for  your  crimes  ?  and  have  you  been 
filled  with  unfeigned  forrow  and  grief  that  you 
have  linned  againft  God,  and  broken  his  law  ? — 
And  have  you  with  your  whole  hearts,  under  thefe 
views,  renounced  all  your  own  right eoujnejs^  as^7- 
thy  rags ;  and  refted  your  guilty  fouls,  naked,  and 
wretched  as  they  are,  upon  a  crucified  Jefus  /*  Do 
you  fee  the  value,  the  infinite  value  of  his  blood 
to  make  atonement  for  your  fms  ?  Is  Chrift,  his 
righteoufnefs,  and  the  way  of  falvation  through 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R.  75 

liim,  what  ravifhes,  charms  and  rejoices  your  fouls  ? 
And  are  you  depending  on  him  continually,  for  all 
needed  grace  and  flrength,  to  enable  you  to  dif- 
charge  the  duties  which  you  owe  to  God,  and  your 
neighbor? — Oh  I  my  brcthr(:ny  exajjme your/elves, 
try  your  own /elves, 

Thofe  of  you  who  have  fcriptural  evidences  to 
hope  that  you  are  fprinkled  with  the  blood  of  Je- 
fus,  how  blefled  are  you  !  How  happy  is  the  condi- 
tion of  true  believers  1  God  will  certainly  pafs  over 
you,  when  he  arifes  to  judgment.  He  has  given 
you  full  alTurance  of  this  already  in  the  figure^  and 
he  will  foon  do  it  in  reality.  Let  not  your  heartFJ 
be  troubled,  O  Chriftians,  the  deftroying  Angel 
{hall  not  come  nigh  you  1  Believe  in  God,  he  abi-. 
deth  faithful,  and  that  you  might  have  the  ilrong-* 
eft  confolation,  he  hath  added  his  oath  to  his  pro- 
mife.  God  willing  more  abundantly  to  Jhew  unto  the 
heirs  of  proviifcy  the  immutability  of  bis  council^  con-^ 
firmed  it  by  an  oath :  that  by  two  immutable  things,  in 
which  it  was  impoffthle  for  God  to  lie,  we  might  have 
ftrong  canfolation  who  have  fled  for  refuge,  to  lay  hold 
on  the  hope  fet  before  us* 

Perhaps  your  own  vilenefs  and  wretchediiefs 
affright  you  :  you  fee  fb  little  to  difringuifh  you  as 
objeds  of  favor ;  fo  much,  to  render  you  objeds  of 
wrath ;  that  you  cannot  think  you  have  any  part 
in  the  blelTcdnefs  here  fpoken  of.  But  remember 
that  what  makcj^  you  acceptable,  is  the  blood  of 

fprinkling Chrifl  h  made  of  Goct  unto  you 

I 


74  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

ivijd'jmy  and  righteoufnefsy  and  fan^ification^  and  re^ 
demption.  This  is  the  grace  wherein  you  ft  and, 
and  wherein  you  are  accepted. 

But  thofe,  who  never  felt  the  powerful  influence 
of  this  method  of  falvation,  may  objed: ;  that  this 
dodrine  leads  to  licentioufnefs.  Nay,  my  brethren, 
no  dodtrinc  has  a  ftronger  operation  the  contrary 
way.  No  doctrine  has  a  more  powerful  cffecl  to 
purify  the  heart,  to  animate  to  diligence  in  good 
works,  than  falvation  by  free  grace;  than  ac- 
ceptance before  Godiyfolely  by  the  fprinkling  of  the 
blood  of  Jefus.  The  real  belief  of  this  dodlrine, 
\i  the  only  abiding  fpring  of  holy  obedience — 
Saith  not  the  Apoftle  ?  'The  love  of  Chriji  conjlrahu 
eth  us, 

O  Chriftians  !  be  perfuaded  to  maintain  a  pow- 
erful fenfe  of  gofpel  grace ;  and  that  it  is  only  by 
the  blood  of  fprinkling,  you  are  diftinguifhed  as 
objedls  of  divine  acceptance.  This  is  the  fureft 
road  to  peace  and  comfort.  And  by  this  blood 
you  fhall  enter  into  theholicft  of  all :  the  everiaft- 
ing  doors  of  glory  will  be  opened  to  you,  and  you 
iliall  be  introduced  into  eternal  felicity,  by  this 
Jefus,  with  whofe  blood  you  are  fprinkled ;  faying, 
ComCyye  bleffed  of  my  Father ^  inherit  the  kingdom  fre^ 
'pared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  vjorld, — But 
are  there  not  fome  in  this  alfembly,  who  have  full 
convictions  of  judgment,  that  you  have  never  been 
fprinkled  with  this  peace-fpeaking,  and  life-giving 
Hood  ? — Who  have  never  fled  to  Jefus  for  refuge. 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R.  75 

from  the  llorms  of  divine  vengeance?  Who  have 
not  the  door-pofls  of  your  hearts  fprinklcd  I  Be 
allured,  O  Sinners !  that  the  dellroying  Angel  will 
enter  into  your  fouls  and  fnniite  you,  and  leave  you 
neither  root  nor  branch.  You  (hall  be  fwept  away 
by  the  torrent  of  divine  wrath,  if  you  thus  conti- 
nue, when  God  lliall  defcend  to  judgment.  No- 
thing can  fecurc  you  from  the  utmoft  defrrucliion, 
if  you  continue  to  undervalue  fo  great  a  facrifice 
as  the  Lamb  of  God.  Of  bow  much  forer  punijlj^ 
mentyfiippofe  ye,  Jhallhe  he  thought  worthy y  who  hatbr- 
trodden  underfoot  the  Son  of  God,  and  hath  counted  the 
blood  of  the  covenant ,  wherewith  he  was  fan^tifedy  an 
unholy  thing,  and  done  defpite  to  the  fpirit  of  grace  ? 
It  is  dreadful,  O  Sinners !  to  have  this  facrifice 
fmoking  againit  you,  and  the  blood  of  Chrift  cal- 
ling for  vengeance,  inftead  of  mercy,  upon  your 
devoted  heads.  O,  be  warned  to  flee  from  the 
wrath  to  come  !  for  when  the  midnight  cry  of  E- 
gypt  arifes,  it  will  then  be  too  late  I  Wherefore, 
now  is  the  accepted  time,  mw  is  the  day  of  fah:ation. 
Oh  Sinners  1  lay  hold  on  the  blood  of  fprinkiing. 
Hearken  to  the  invitations  of  Chrifl  Jcfus.  Hoy 
every  one  that  thirfteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters,  and  who- 
foever  will^  let  him  come,  and  partake  of  the  zvalrrs  of 
life  freely — T^he  fpirit  cind  the  bride  fay,  come  ;  and 
that  we  may  all  come,  and  be  fprinkled  with  this 
foul-faving  blood,  may  God  of  his  infinite  mercy 
grant,  through  Jefus  Chrifl:  cur  Lcrd.  Amen^ 
and  Amen. 


SERMON      V. 

The  iNFLUNCES  of  God,  as  a  Sui^yihe  great  coNvSO- 
lATlon  of  his  People^ 

B    Y 

ALEXANDER  MACIVHORTER,  D.  D/ 

Paftor  of  the  Firft  Prclbyterian  Church,  at  I^ewai-k,  New-Jcrfqy. 


aniBi 


Psalms  Ixxxiv.  ii. 
For  the  Lord  God  is  a  Sun, 

THESE  words  Hand  here,  as  a  reafon  of  the 
Pfalmift's  declaration  in  the  preceding  veife, 
that  one  day  f pent  in  the  boiife  of  God,  that  is,  in  an 
attendance  on  his  ordinances,  zvas  betttr  than  a 
thoufand:  that  he  would  rather  hold  the  loweft  place 
in  God's  houfc,  and  thus  enjoy  the  privileges  of  his 
public  worfhip,  than  dwell  in  tents  of  wickednefs, 
or  enjoy  the  utmoll  plcafures  of  fin.  The  reafon 
of  this  preference,  is  refoived  into  this  confidera- 
tion,  that  the  Lord  God  is  a  Sun, 

This  view  of  the  words  in  their  conneclion, 
fcrvcs  to  fliew  us,  wherein  confifls  the  true  excel- 
lency and  advantage  of  the  inftituted  ordinances 
Q^  divine  worlhip ;  and  the  true  reafon^  of  the  high 


78  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

eflecm,  all  good  men,  without  exception,  have  of 
them ;  their  great  refpedl,  and  love  to  them ;.  their 
care  and  diligence  in  attending  them :  God  is  in 
them,  as  a  Sun, 

As  the  natural  fun,  by  his  influences,  enlightens, 
and  revives  every  living  thing ;  fo  God,  in  his  or- 
dinances, enlightens,  and  revives  the  hearts  of  his 
people :  fhining  into  their  minds,  and  giving  them 
the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  his  Glory,  in  the 
perfon  of  Jcfus  Chrift — fhedding  abroad  his  love 
in  their  hearts,  and  granting  them  that  peace,  which- 
pajfeth  all  underftanciing. 

But  if  weconfider  the  words  in  a  more  independ- 
ent view,  they  teach  us,  that  God  is  to  good  men, 
what  the  fun,  by  its  influences,  is  to  the  natural 
world.  Who  is  ignorant  of  the  high  importance 
of  the  natural  fun?  This  heavenly  luminary  forms, 
our  day;  difperfcs  the  gloomy  horrors  of  the  night, 
and  fheds  fertility,  light  and  joy,  through  every 
part  of  our  fyftem.  Without  it,  all  nature  would 
be  one  frozen  mafs;  neither  life,  nor  vegetation, 
nor  fruit fulnels  would  appear. 

Now,  when  God  is  reprefented  by  the  beautiful 
and  ftriking  image  of  a  Sun,  with  regard  to  his  in- 
fluences and  agency,  towards  thofe  who  walk  up- 
rightly, who  can  help  perceiving,  how  fuprcme, 
and  fenfible  a  blcffing,  his  exiftence  and  commu- 
nications are,  in  their  experience,  and  cilimate? 

As  the  natural  fun  is  the  fountain  of  light ;  fheds 
jcy  and  gladnefs  through  the  animal  and  vegetable 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R.  yf 

kingdoms.;  and  caufcs  our  earth  to  teem,  with  all 
its  rich  variety  of  fruits,  fo,  the  Sun  of  Righteouf- 
ncfs,  the  true,  and  eternal  God  is  all  this,  and 
more  than  this,  in  his  communications  to  his  peo- 
ple. He  communicates  fpiritual  light  to  their 
minds — infufes  joy  and  gladnefs  into  their  hearts, 
and  renders  them  fruitful,  in  every  branch  of 
goodnefs. 

I,  Gk)d  is  a  Sun,  as  he  communicates  fpiritual 
light  to  his  people. 

There  may  be  faid  to  be  three  kinds  of  light — 
phyjical — intelle5fual — dindfpiritual — or,, the  light  of 
this  worldy — the  light  o^reafon,  and  the  light  of  the 
Spirit  of  God,  Each  of  thefe  differs  from  the  other 
in  its  nature.  There  is  as  real  a  difference  between 
intelledfual,  and  fpiritual  light,  as  there  is  between 
intelleClual,  and  phylical,  or  the  light  of  the  fun. 
The  former  agree,  in  many  more  refpevfls,  than 
the  latter;  but  there  is  no  fuch  agreement,  as  ren- 
ders them,  of  the  fame  nature  and  kind.  This  dif- 
ference will  farther  appear  in  the  fequcl. 

The  natural  condition  of  the  human  mind,  fincc 
the  fall  of  Adam,  is  a  Hate  of  darkncfs^  and  blind- 
nefs.  When  man  apoilatized,  he  loff  tliat  fpirit- 
ual fcnfe,  whereby  he  was  capable  of  difccrnin^r 
fpiritual  objects :  the  image  of  God  forfook  his 
heart,  and  lo,  no  longer  was  he  captivated  with 
the  beauties  of  holinefs.  The  foul  now  remains 
in  fpiritual  darknefs,  until  the  divine  image,  or  fpi- 
ritual fenfe  be  reftorcd ^  which  is  done  by  the  ope-, 


So  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

ration  of  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the  work  of  regene- 
ration. This  teaches  us  the  great  propriety  of  thofe 
fcripture  phrafes,  where  natural  men  are  rcprefent- 
ed,  as  not  difcerning/piritual  things  ;  as  having  their 
minds  darkened;  being  ignorajit,  blind  and  dead. — • 
Thefe  exprellions  can,  by  no  means,  be  underftood 
to  mean  the  want  of  intellectual  light,  or  the  light 
of  reafon;  for  were  we  to  underiland  them  in  this 
refpecSI",  they  really  carry  the  matter  fo  far  as  to  fig- 
nify,  that  the  light  of  reafon  was  not  only  impair- 
ed, but  utterly  lofl-  and  extinguifhed:  wherefore 
this  cannot  be  the  fcripture  fenfe.     But  if  we  un- 
derhand them  as  exprelTions  of  the  want  ofy/)/r//- 
iial  light  then  they  are  perfcdly  true  and  proper: 
The  whole  world  lieth  in  darknefs:  Having  the  mi^ 
derjfanding  darkened;  being  alienated  from  the  life  of 
God,  through  the  ignorance  that  is  in  theniy  becaufe  of 
the  blindnfs  of  their  hearts. 

Spiritual  light  is  wholly  extinguifhed  by  the  fall^ 
and  hence  is  there  fomuch  darknefs,  ignorance  and 
confuiion,  even  in  fpeculation,  with  regard  to  di- 
vine things.  That  the  world  is  full  of  darknefg,  re- 
fpeding  God,  his  perfedlions  and  kingdom,  is  a 
matter  which  cannot  be  denied:  and  this  dark- 
nefs muft  be  occalioned,  either  by  fomething  in 
God,  or  by  his  concealment  of  himfelf,  or  by  the 
)ofs  of  a  fpiritual  underftanding  amongll  men. — 
But  this  blindnefs  doth  not  arife  from  any  thing  in 
Goti,  as  if  he  were  darknefs;  for  God  is  light,  and 
in  kirn  there  is  no  darknefs  at  all:  nor  does  it  pro- 
<ffed  from  any  concealment  of  himfelf,  fo  that  wc 


M  A  C  V/  H  O  R  T  E  R.  8f 

Ciinnot  behold  him  by  reafon  of  it.  This  was  ne- 
ver true  in  itfclf  at  any  time,  however  great  and  pal- 
pable the  darknefs  of  mens  minds  have  been  with 
regard  to  God;  but  it  is  lefs  true  under  the  Gofpel 
difpenfation  than  ever;  for  the  true  light  now 
fhineth,  and  God  hath  eminently  manifcfledhimfelf 
in  the  character  and  inftrudlions  of  his  Son,  whom 
he  hath  revealed  for  this  purpofe;  who  was //?<? 
hrightnejs  of  his  glory ^  and  the  exprefs  image  of  his  per- 
JoH;  and  whofe  glory  fo  confpicuoully  ihone  forth 
to  the  view  of  thofe  who  were  enlightened  from 
above,  that  they  knew  him  to  be  the  only  begotten  of 
the  Father. 

Therefore  it  remains,  that  this  darknefs  muft 
be  occafioned  by  the  lofs  of  a  fpiritual  underftand- 
ingy  through  the  wickednefs  of  mens  hearts :  For 
light  is  come  into  the  worlds  and  men  loved  darknefs  ra^ 
iher  than  light,  becaufe  their  deeds  were  evil. 

Now,  of  ^//  forts  of  light  God  is  the  author.— 
He  formed  the  fun  to  rule  the  day — he  maketh  us 
wifer  than  the  fowls  of  heaven,  and  he  alone  giv- 
€th  fupernatural  light,  or  2i  fpiritual  underftanding. — • 
Hence  is  he  ftiled  the  Father  of  Light ,  from  whom 
Cometh  every  good  and  perfcd  gift. 

If  any  admit  no  other  kind  of  light,  with  regard 
to  divine  things,  but  that  of  reafon,  improved  and 
heightened  by  external  advantages  and  diligent  ap- 
plication,  I  fhall  not,  at  prcfent,  difpute  the  fub- 
jecl  with  them.     It  is  not  this  fort  of  light  that  I 

K 


82  M  A  C  V7  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

mean,  but  fomething  of  a  nature  entirely  different 
— a  light  that  is  properly  fupernatural,  and  from 
God;  in  a  manner,  the  light  which  reafon  fur- 
nifhes,  is  not,  nor  can,  with  any  propriety,  be  faid 
to  be.  God  manifefhs  himfelf  to  his  people  in  a 
peculiar  manner,  by  a  luftre,  as  fuperior  to  that  of 
mere  natural  reafon,  as  it  is  different  from  it  in 
kind.  They  have  the  fame  common  knowledge 
of  God  as  others — the  fame  powers  of  reafon — the 
fame  external  advantages  from  his  word  and  works, 
for  acquiring  a  fpeculative  acquaintance  with  him, 
his  nature  and  perfections;  but  they  have  a  know- 
ledge of  him  which  is  not  acquired  in  this  way, 
which  is  far  above  the  efforts  of  reafon,  though 
bleffed  w  ith  the  beft  aids,  and  applied  with  the 
greateft  diligence.  This  knowledge  is  the  effedt 
of  a  fpiritual  illumination  of  their  minds,  by  God's 
Ihining  into  them  with  the  light  of  his  glory. 
The  heart  is  the  fubjed:  of  the  divine  irradiation; 
the  eyes  of  the  underfVanding  are  enlightened  by 
the  fpirit  of  wifdom  and  revelation.  When  God 
thus  fnines  into  their  hearts,  the  effed:  is  a  clear, 
diftind,  lively  perception  of  his  fupremeand  tranf- 
cendant  excellency — of  the  beauty  and  amiablenefs 
of  his  nature  and  pcrfedions.  God  appears  ex- 
ceedingly lovely,  and  exceedingly  glorious;  wor- 
thy to  be  feared,  and  to  be  had  in  reverence  of  all 
intelligent  creatures.  The  genuine  language  of 
their  heart  now  is — Blefs  the  Lord,  O  my  foul  /— »- 
who  would  not  fear  thee,  O  Lord,  and  glorify  thy 
name! — love  the  Lord,  all  ye  his  faint  s!-^laud  hi??!  all 


MACWHORTER.  83 

ye  people  t — praije  yehhUy  all  his  Angels  I — praife  ye 
hwiy  all  bis  hofts  i 

Not  only  docs  this  or  that  perfevflion  appear  a- 
greeable  ;  or  this  or  that  branch  of  his  condudt ; 
but  every  thing  in  God  is  lovely  ;  every  perfedlion 
of  his  nature,  and  every  branch  of  his  providence 
— every  thing  that  belongs  to  him  has  a  peculiar 
fwcetnefs,  and  acceptablenefs  in  it  to  the  foul. 
Efpccially  the  Gofpel  appears  with  peculiar  luf- 
tre,  as  the  brighteft  and  moft  diftinguifhing  dis- 
play of  the  uncreated  lovelinefs  of  the  Father,  the 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghod. 

Some  perfons  talk  of  great  regard  to  God,  great 
efteem  of  his  perfections,  and  high  expecilations  of 
future  happinefs  ;  while  they  have  but  a  mean  o- 
pinion  of  the  Gofpel,  and  are  defbitute  of  all  fenfi- 
ble  love  and  deference  to  the  charadler  of  Jefus 
Chrifb.  But  all  their  religion  is  a  deceit,  and  their 
hopes  a  deluHon  :  for  thefc  things  cannot  be  fepa- 
rated : — He  that  hath  not  the  Son,  hath  not  the  Fa- 
ther— He  that  reje^eth  the  Son,  rejecleth  the  Father 
— He  that  honoreth  not  the  Son,  honoreth  not  the  Fa^ 
ther  which  hath  Jent  him — He  zvho  receives  not  the 
record  of  God,  7naketb  him  -a  liar. 

In  proportion  to  our  ^crSt  of  the  excellency  of 
God,  and  his  perfections,  will  be  our  fenfe  of  the 
excellency  of  the  Gofpel,  and  its  author,  and  fo  on 
the  contrary. 

When  God  at  firft  regenerates  a  foul,^  and  (liincs 
into  the  heart,  and  gives  it  to  behold  the  light  of 


84  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

the  knowledge  of  his  glory,  the  creature  is  intro- 
duced into  a  new  world — All  things  appear  new. 
It  has  new  views  and  perceptions  of  God  and  Je- 
fus  Chrid ;  fuch  as  it  never  had  before  ;  yea,  thofc 
things,  which  were  known  before,  appear  with  a 
new  luilre  and  beauty — The  fcripture  and  its 
truths  appear  new  :  new  light  and  glory  appear  to 
fhine  in  them — Now  the  heart  has  an  evidence 
of  their  divinity,  and  a  fenfe  that  they  are  not  cun- 
ningly devifed  fables,  far  beyond  any  thing  it  could 
obtain  from  mere  fpeculation — In  thefe  difcovc- 
ties,  the  mind  is  brought  to  the  full  afllirance  of 
underftanding. 

There  is  no  knowledge  which  we  can  acquire, 
that  can  anticipate  this  divine  illumination,  or 
render  it  ufelefs — Some  fay,  men  may,  by  their 
own  application,  obtain  all  that  knowledge  in  re- 
ligion that  is  necelTary ;  and  then,  all  that  remains 
to  make  them  good  men,  is  to  pradlife  what  they 
know.  This  is  one  of  the  modern  refinements, 
and  is  as  far  from  being  true,  as  fome  others  :  for 
that  religious  knowledge,  which  is  necellary  to 
form  the  heart  and  pradife  to  real  goodncfs,  lies 
not  at  all  in  mere  fpeculation ;  neither  will  the 
refult  of  our  own  application,  in  itfelf  confidered, 
ever  fandlify  the  foul,  or  produce  a  truly  virtuous 
life.  That  knowledge,  which  fandifies,  is  of  a 
different  original :  It  comes  down  from  above;  it 
flows  from  the  mercy-feat  of  God, 

And  as  no  acquired  knowledge  can  fupercede 
the  ncceflity  of  this  divine  teaching,  fo,  when  it  is 

t 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R.  ^ 

granted,  in  any  confiderablc  degree,  it  is  very  per- 
ceptible. The  moil  learned  divine  becomes  im- 
mediately fenfibie  of  the  vail:  difference  between 
his  oTvn  knozvledge  and  this  divine  iiijlnicfion.  His 
own  notions,  however  diligently  collected  and  ma- 
tured, are  as  nothing,  with  refped  to  clearnefs  and 
efficacy,  compared  to  one  view  of  the  divine  glory 
communicated  to  the  heart,  by  the  fpirit  of  God 
ihining  into  it.  Now,  he  fees  divine  things  in  a 
different  view  ;  he  beholds  them  in  a  very  differ- 
ent light :  Hence,  this  knowledge  is  altogether  a 
different  thing,  from  the  teachings  of  any  outward 
means  w'hatfoevcr. 

In  this  fenfe,  God  is  a  fun,  and,  in  this  manner, 
does  he  communicate  fpiritual  light  to  his  people. 

11.  God  infuses  joy  and gladjtf/s  into  their  hearts. 

As  God  is  the  author  of  fpiritual  light,  fo  alfo 
of  fpiritual  joy.  Holy  light  always  precedes  holy 
joy,  as  it  isthereafon  and  ground  of  it.  That  joy 
and  affection  which  does  not  rife  from  a  fpiritual 
difcovery  of  the  excellency  of  divine  things,  is  falfe 
and  enthufiaftic — There  is  no  fuch  thing  in  true 
religion,  as  heat  without  light ;  or  zeal  without 
knowledge.  There  is,  indeed,  much  of  this  fort 
of  religion  in  the  world,  but  as  it  has  not  the  na- 
ture of  true  Religion,  it  ought  not  to  bear  the 
name. 

So,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  no  fuch  tlung  in 
real  rchgion,  as  fpiritual  light  without  heat ;  or 


86  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

fpiritual  knowledge  without  zeal.  Thefe  can  be 
no  more  fepa rated  than  light  from  the  fun;  or 
heat  from  fire  ;  or  reafon  from  an  intelligent  na- 
ture. 

God  does  not  give  to  all  his  creatures  equal  de- 
grees of  joy  and  confolation :  but  he  ufually  grants 
them,  in  fome  degree ;  and  in  thofe  communica- 
tions, he  fhews  a  wife  and  holy  fovereignty.  And 
where  the  lead  meafure  of  this  fpiritual  joy  is  giv- 
en, it  is  of  fo  exquifite  and  heavenly  a  nature,  that 
the  foul  can  never  again  thirft  Jupremely  for  earth- 
ly joys,  nor  habitually  prefer  the  delights  and  plea- 
fures  of  earth  to  thofe  of  true  Religion.  This  is 
the  diftinguifhing  nature  of  fpiritual  joy,  of  which 
God  is  the  author,  that  it  forever  paUs  the  tafte 
to  all  fenfual  and  finful  pleafures. — This  is  the 
water  which  Chrift  gives,  that  he,  who  drinks  of  itj^ 
will  never  thirfl  again. 

It  is  only  the  true  and  upright  Chriftian,  who 
knows  the  refined  pleafures  and  joys  which  God 
pours  into  their  hearts  :  fuch  as  the  men  of  this 
world  underftand  not,  neither  do  ftrangers  inter- 
meddle with  them.  Thefe  are  the  fecxets  of  the 
Lord,  Avhich  are  imparted  only  to  thofe  who  fear 
him.  They  are  facred  pledges  of  mutual  friend- 
ilup — foretaftes  or  prelibations  of  thofe  rivers  of 
pleafurc  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  which  are  in 
refervc  for  his  people,  when  they  fliall  have  fini fil- 
ed their  prefent  pilgrimage.  Thefe  joys,  wherewith 
true  Chriflians  arc  entertained,  are  produced  by  the- 


MACWHORTER.  87 

l^ioly  fpirit,  through  means  of  the  word  and  ordi- 
nances. 

God's  own  exigence  and  glorious  perfedlions, 
realized  to  their  hearts,  form  one  comprehenfroe  rca- 
fon  of  fvveetnefs  and  fatisfaclion.  None  but  good 
men  know  what  infinite  pleafure  it  affords,  that 
God  exifts.  Oftentimes  it  fills  their  fouls  with  un- 
fpeakable  tranfports,  and  they  inwardly  exult  in 
the  blejjcd  ajjurance. 

The  univerfal  dominion  and  government  of 
God,  is  another  fource  of  fenfible  pleafure  to  the 
truly  pious.  0 1  how  comfortable  is  the  thought, 
that  the  Lord  God  omnipotent  reigneth  ! — that  in  the 
darkefl  (late  of  things,  he  fits  at  the  helniy  and  direcfts 
the  affairs  of  the  church,  and  of  the  world  1 — that 
his  own  glory  will  be  advanced  I 

Sometimes  thefe  joys  arife  from  having  their 
hearts  drawn  out  in  ilrong  and  fenfible  love  to 
God  above  all  things :  in  a  love,  llrcnger  than 
death — 0 1  how  tranfporting  the  pleafure,  to  feci 
an  heart  full  of  love  to  the  mofl:  amiable  of  Beings ! 

Sometimes  he  gives  them  the  kindeft  affurance 
of  his  favor  and  regard  through  Jefus  Chrifr — 
While  they  fear  their  unworthinefs  and  finfulnefs 
will  forever  feparate  him  from  them,  he  fecretly 
communicates  fome  tender  telfimony  of  his  love, 
and,  at  once,  diflipates  every  diflrefnng  fufpicion  of 
heart.  O !  how  fvvcet  is  it,  to  be  prevented  by 
the  goodnefs  of  God  ;  and  to  have  a  garment  of 
praife  for  a  fpirit  of  heavincA  ! 


88  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R- 

Oftentimes  he  caufes  the  humble  and  upright 
Chriftid!!  to  rejoice  in  the  hopes  of  glory,  and  the 
Ihortnefs  of  that  interval,  that  bars  hm:i  from  his 
immediate  and  everlafting  prefence.  God  ena- 
bles the  contrite  one  to  anticipate  the  jo)s  of  that 
bleiTed  feafon,  when  he  fhali  be  admitted  to  fee 
him,  as  he  is  : — when  fm  lliall  be  no  more,  and 
forrow  have  an  end — when  the  imperfedion  and 
vanity  of  his  prefcnt  itate,  fhall  no  more  obiirudl 
the  vigor  of  the  foul,  but  his  fongs  and  praifes  to 
God  and  the  Lamb,  be  as  ardent  and  lincere  aa 
thofe  of  faints  and  feraphim  around  the  throne. 

Thus,  God  is  a  fun,  in  communicating  joy  and 
gJadnefs  to  the  hearts  of  his  people. 

III.  God,  by  his  influences,  renders  true  Chris- 
tians fruitful  in  every  branch  of  goodnefs. 

It  is  the  influence  of  the  natural  fun,  that  makes 
the  earth  productive  of  fruits,  necelTary  for  the  life 
of  man  and  beafi: :  In  like  manner,  it  is  the  influ- 
ence of  the  fun  of  righteoufnefs,  that  makes  Chrif- 
tians  fruitful  in  all  good  works.  Their  im- 
provements in  piety  and  virtue,  will  always  be  in 
proportion  to  the  degree  and  frequency  of  thefe 
influences — Without  them,  there  is  no  progrefs  to 
be  made — IVithout  mCy  fays  our  Lord,  ye  can  do  no^ 
thing.  How  much  is  the  truth  of  this  aiTertion, 
the  experience  of  every  true  Chriftian  ?  If  Chrifi: 
does  not  animate  him  by  the  fecret  power  of  his 
grace,  how  dead  the  heart  to  every  fpiritual  exer- 
cifc! — How  does  grace  languifli^  and  things  di* 


MACWHORTER.  89 

vine  loofc  their  fcrffible  relifh,  from  day  to  day  1 — . 
Jafl:  as  you  Iiavc  fcen  things  in  early  fpring,  in  the 
natural  worl-d,  when  the  beams  and  influences  of 
the  fun  are  intercepted  by  thick  clouds  and  froily 
winds,  the  vernal,  beautiful  appearances  fade — 
grafs,  and  herbs  and  llowers  decline  and  languifli ; 
till  the  clouds  and  cold  are  difperfed,  and  the  fun. 
refumcs  its  fplendor,  and  flieds  abroad  its  genial 
"warmth,  bv  its  unrcbated  rays :  then  all  nature 
flouriflies  again.  Thus  it  is  in  the  Chriftian  life. 
When  God  lifts  up  the  light  of  his  countenance, 
every  grace  begins  to  fpring,  and  the  foul  becomes 
gay  and  blooming,  as  the  garden  of  God.  And 
now,  there  is  much  fruit  to  the  glory  of  their  hea- 
venly Father.  Praife  and  joy  and  holy  walking- 
employ  every  hour.  But  alas !  when  God  hide.^ 
his  face,  troubles  again  return.  Sin  and  the  world 
renew  their  attacks ;  and,  too  often,  former  vicSlo- 
lies  are  difgraced  by  new  defeats :  but  when  the 
fun  of  righteoufnefs  fhines  upon  them,  grace- 
grows,  and  every  good  w  ork  abounds. 

IMPROVE  M  E  N  T. 

J.  We  lie  re  learn,  of  what  high  coniiderotion, 
the  being,  gdvernment,  and  communications  of 
God  are  to  good  men — There  is  no  fuppoiition. 
more  terrible  and  diilrcfiing  to  a  pious  mind,  than 
this  ;  ihat  there  is  no  God.  No  attempts  made  by 
Sitaii  to  difturb  the  peace  and  tranquillity  of  good 

L 


90  MACWHORTER. 

men,  are  fo  infupportable,  as  thofe  which  confifl 
in  bringing  into  quellion  God's  exiftence  and  go^ 
vernment:  Let  the  foundation  be  attempted,  and 
there  is  no  refource  nor  rel:! — On  the  fuppofitioa 
that  God  did  not  cxift,  it  were  better  not  to  be. 
Exifbence  is  a  bleiling  only  on  condition  of  God's 
Exiftence,  without  this,  hfe  itfelf  would  be  a  curfe. 

But  O  1  what  pkafure  has  the  true  Chrifiian  at 
times,  in  the  lingle  refledion,  that  God  is — The 
character  of  God,  as  reprefented  in  his  word,  is 
alfo  an  eiTential  confideration  of  happinefs,  as  well 
as  his  exiftence  itfcif.  If  thofe  perfections  are  re- 
trenched, w^hich  he  has  afcribed  to  himfelf  in  his 
own  revelation,  the  happinefs  of  real  Chriftians  is 
fubverted  in  its  original  foundation.  For  it  is  in 
a  realizing  fenfe  of  heart,  of  the  reality  and  holy 
excellency  of  them ;  that  their  fouls  are  much 
formed  to  a  fupreme  duty,  and  refped:  to  him  and 
his  ways.  And  they  have  not  only  fweet  delight, 
that  God  is,  but  that  he  is  what  he  is.  I  am  that 
I  AM,  was  the  name  by  which  he  revealed  himfelf 
to  Mofes,  for  the  comfort  of  Ifrael. 

The  univerfal  and  particular  providence  of  God 
is  likewife  a  principle,  in  which  all  good  men  are 
extremely  intereited.  Were  it  not  for  this  fup- 
port,  there  would  be  no  fpirit  left  in  them.  As 
it  creates  them  the  grcateft  pain,  not  to  be  able  by 
faith,  to  fee  that  God,  who  is  invilible ;  fo,  a  full 
allurance  and  feeling  fenfe  of  his  agency  and  con- 
cern in  all  things,  is  to  them  a  reviving  cordiah 


MACWHORTER-  91 

It  is  a  folitary  condition  with  a  good  man,  when 
his  fenfe  of  thcfe  things  is  abated ;  and  though 
God  is  on  his  right  hand  and  on  his  left,  yet  he 
cannot  behold  him— And  indeed,  my  brethren, 
it  is  not  an  cafy  matter  to  Hve  in  the  realizing  fenfe 
of  the  being,  perfections,  and  providence  of  God. 
He  knows  but  little  of  himfelf,  and  what  it  is  to 
have  a  tme  faith  of  thefe  things,  who  thinks  not  fo. 
To  affent  to  thefe  truths,  indeed,  is  an  cafy  mat- 
ter ;  and  to  be  free  from  all  hefitation  and  doubt 
about  them  in  our  judgment :  but  he  grofsly  mif- 
takcs,  who  imagines  this  is  that  faith,  in  thefe 
things,  v/hich  belongs  to  true  Chriftians.  There 
is  a  divine  fenfe  of  it,  that  is  more  or  lefs  their  aim 
and  confolation  ;  and  the  whole  compafs  of  crea- 
ture enjoyments,  is  not  able  to  compenfate  the 
want  of  this  faith. 

2.  We  may  be  here  led  to  enquire,  my  hearers, 
whether  the  Lord  God  is  our  fun  ? 

Do  we  perceive  God's  nature,  perfedlions,  and 
influences,  of  fuch  high  confequence  and  impor- 
tance to  us  .^  Are  thefe  the  fources  of  our  truefl 
enjoyment,  and  fwectell  confolation  ?  Is  God's 
exiftence  our  life  and  delight  ?  His  pcrfedlions,. 
his  glory  and  felicity,  our  pleafure  and  entertain- 
ment?— His  holy  and  cnhghtening  influences,, 
the  bleffings  for  which  we  pant  and  languifh? — 
Is  God  our  fun  ?  Does  he  form  our  day  ?  Is  it  his 
prefence  makes  our  Heaven?  Is  it  his  beauty,  his 
excellency,  and  glory  Ihining  in  the  face  of  Jcfus- 


95  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

Chrifl",  that  we  admire  ? — Are  our  thoughts  taken 
up  with  God  ? — Is  he  our  light  and  our  joy  ? 

If  we  can  anfwer  underfcandingly  in  the  afBr- 
mative  to  thefe  queries,  then,  blefid  are  ye  of  the 
Moft  High,  Bielled  is  that  people  whofe  God  is 
the  Lord ;  to  whom  the  Lord  God  is  a  Sun.  He 
is  a  Being  of  univerfal  dominion;  he  is  the  crea- 
tor and  prefcrver  of  all ;  he  fits  at  the  helm  of  go- 
vernment, and  his  eyes  run  to  and  fro  through  all 
the  earth.  He  beholds  the  thoughts  and  councils 
of  men;  and  nothing  can  happen  to  his  people, 
whereby  they  are  affecled,  but  what  fhall  work  for 
their  higheftgood.  How  blelTed  are  ye,  O  Chrii- 
tians  !  who  have  a  friend  of  this  character,  of  fuch 
univerfal  fway  and  influence  ! — You  know  his  ab- 
folute  and  incontrolable  power.  He  will  do  all 
his  pleafure — he  can  fave,  when  every  refource 
fails  and  all  things  look  defperate.  Yon  know 
that  all  happinefs  is  in  his  gift :  /;/  his  prcfence  is 
fulhiejs  of  joy  ;  whom  he  blclfeth,  is  blejjed  indeed. 
Out  of  his  favor  there  is  no  fuch  thing  as  true  hap- 
pinefs. The  pleafures  of  fuch  are  but  as  crackling 
thorns  under  a  pot.  Happinefs,  derived  from  this 
world,  is  like  the  light  of  a  meteor,  which  inllan- 
tancoully  ends  in  darknefs.  The  joys  of  the  wick- 
ed ceafe  with  their  breath :  and  as  thefe  ceafe, 
e-jerlafiingjorrozvs  commence.  But  then  the  happi- 
nefs of  thofe  who  choofe  God  for  their  portion, 
will  eminently  begin — to  fuch,  a  natural  death 
Will  be  but  the  commencement  of  cvcriaftin.f^  life 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R.  93 

and  blifs — To  his  people,  he  delights  to  fncw  his 
mercy — he  will  give  grace  and  glory. 

God  is  more  inclined  to  do  good  to  thofe  who 
walk  uprightly,  than  the  moft  affedlionate  parent 
is,  to  be  kind  and  tender  to  a  favorite  child — A 
woman  may  forget  her  fucking  child,  that  Ihe 
Ihould  not  have  compaflion  on  the  fon  of  her 
womb ;  but  God  will  never  forget  thofe,  who  puc 
their  truft  in  him ;  he  will  never  leave  you  nor 
forfakc  you.  O  Chrifrians !  live  in  his  light — 
bafR  in  his  rays— and  may  you  enjoy  an  uncloud- 
ed fun,  until  you  be  introduced  into  immortal  day. 
It  is  but  a  little  while  till  your  fun  iliall  never  fet, 
or  grow  dim,  but  it  will  fliine,  with  encrcaiing 
brightnefs,  for  ever  and  ever — O  then  1  walk 
worthy  of  your  high  calling  and  dignity. 

3.  Are  there  not  fome  in  this  alTembly,  who  are 
under  the  power  of  an  abfolute  indifference  in  re- 
fpecl  to  all  thefe  things,  who  have  never  had  any 
difcovery  of  divine  glory — to  whom  worldly  prof^ 
perity  is  the  moft  important  conlideration  of  feli- 
city ?  Abundance  of  this  world's  goods  can  fatisfy 
you  without  God  :  and  do  you,  my  hearers,  in  this 
fituation,  look  upon  yourfclves  to  be  real  Chrif- 
tians  ?  Can  you  read  your  Bible,  and  not  hefitatc 
about  your  prctcnlions  to  fo  high  and  refined  a 
charader?  Can  God  be  your  exceeding  joy  and 
great  reward,  and  yet  never  feel  your  hearts  exult 
in  his  exigence,  perfections,  and  univerfal  domi- 
nion ?  Can  he  be  your  fun,  and  you  never  felt  the 


94  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

warmth  of  his  beams,  quickening  your  hearts  into 
love  and  devotion  ?  Can  he  be  your  centre,  refiy  and 
home;  and  you  never  experienced  the  attradive 
power  of  his  excellency  and  glory,  drawing  your 
hearts  into  union  with  him,  and  difpoling  you  to 
long  and  breathe  after  a  ftate  of  greater  ncarnefs, 
and  more  free  and  delightful  intercourfe  ?  Can  you 
live  happy  without  the  enlightening  beams  of 
God's  gracious  prefence?  Can  this  world  fatisfy 
you,  and  its  enjoyments  content  you  ?  You  arc  of- 
ten afking,  who  will  fhew  us  any  good  ?  but  nev- 
er enquiring,  where  is  God  our  maker  ? — Surely 
you  have  no  reafon  to  confider  yourfelves  as  true 
Chriftians,  whatever  your  pretenfions  may  be. 

.  Wherefore,  O  Sinners  1  you,  who  have  hitherto 
preferred  the  world,  and  its  flatteries,  awake  this 
day  to  choofe  the  Lord  for  your  God — Is  it  not 
better  for  you  to  have  God  for  your  friend,  than  all 
the  world  without  him  ?  Can  the  world  comfort 
you  in  a  dying  hour  ?  Can  it  befriend  you  before  the 
bar  of  God  f  Can  it  relieve  you,  when  doomed  by 
the  divine  fentence  to  eternal  mifery  ? 

Wherefore,  O  Sinners  ?  be  perfuadcd  this  day 
to  renounce  the  ways  of  vanity  and  fin ;  and  take 
the  God  of  Ifrael  for  your  portion,  the  Sun  of 
Righteoufnefs  for  your  Saviour,  and  the  Spirit  of 
Grace  for  your  Confolation. 

And  may  God  of  his  infinite  mercy,  work  this 
perfuafion  in  your  hearts,  through  Jcfus  Chrift 
our  Lord.     Amen. 


SERMON      VI. 

The  evil  and  DANGER  of   SECURITY 

IN  SIN. 

* 

B    Y 

ALEXANDER  MACfVHORTER,  D.  D. 

Paftor  of  the  Firft  Prefbyterian  Church,  at  Newark,  New-Jcrfey, 


Matt.  xxiv.  38,  39. 

For  as  in  the  days  that  were  before  thefiood,  ihey  were 
eating  and  drinking^  marrying  and  giving  ifi  marri- 
age, until  the  day  that  Noah  entered  into  the  Ark : 
and  knew  not  until  the  flood  came,  and  took  them  all 
away  y  fojhall  aJfo  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man  be^ 

THE  difcourfe,  of  which  thefe  words  arc  a 
part,  was  addrelTed  by  our  Lord  to  his  dif- 
ciples — The  exprefs  deiign  of  it  was  to  animate 
them  to  a  Heady  vigilance  and  attention  to  their 
immortal  intereft — to  preferve  them  from  iloth 
and  ftupidity,  the  too  common  effe^s  which  divine 
patience  has  upon  mankind.  This  defign  is  fuf- 
ficientiy  vifible  in  the  account  St.  Luke  gives  us 
of  this  difcourfe  ;  but  what  is  here  related  by  St. 
Matthew,  puts  the  matter  beyond  all  doubt : — 


96  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

Watch  therefore y  for  ye  know  not  the  hour  zvhenyour 
Lord  doth  come. 

Hence,  the  propriety  and  force  of  the  words  of 
our  text,  with  regard  to  the  general  argument  and 
exhortation  of  our  Lord  to  vigilance,  fl:and  thus  : 

^*  There  can  be  no  feafon  whatfoever  in  which  it 
*'  is  proper  or  fafe  to  grow  fecure,  and  neglect  a 
"  daily  preparation  for  the  folemn  appearance  of 
*^  Chrift ;  either  to  fummon  us  before  him  by 
*'^  death,  or  to  pour  out  trying  and  terrible  judg- 
*'  ments  upon  our  land ;  or  to  bring  on  the  general' 
"judgment  of  quick  and  dead  :  1  fay,  there  can  be 
"  no  feafon  in  which  it  can  be  fafe  to  be  fecure  and 
"  unprepared  ;  becaufe,  there  is  no  feafon  in  which 
**  he  may  not  come,  in  one,  or  other  of  thefe  ways: 
*'  and  it  would  be  fhocking  and  irretrievable,  to  be 
'^  furprifed  in  an  unprepared  condition." 

And  befides,  Chrifl's  coming,  both  to  the  gene- 
ral judgment,  and  to  punilli  wicked  communities, 
will  certainly  be  in  a  time  of  general  fecurity,  as  it 
was  in  the  time  of  the  flood,  and  dcftruclion  of  So- 
dom. It  is  generally  in  this  condition  he  comes, 
and  furprifes  men  by  death.  Therefore,  it  is 
greatly  to  be  apprehended,  that  the  feafon  of  our 
fecurity  and  negligence  about  his  coming,  will  be 
the  very  juncture  in  which  he  will  come,  to  our 
great  furprife,  and  to  the  everlalling  forrow  oi 
many — we  ought  then,  always,  to  "^atch^  and  to  he 
ready. 


MACWHORTER.  97 

The  words  of  our  text,  confidered  independent 
on  their  relation  to  the  general  argument,  prcfent 
us  with  the  following  obfervations. 

I.  We  may  obferve  the  ftate  of  the  old  world, 
before  the  flood.  They  were  perfedlly  fccure— 
*They  were  eating  and  drinking^  ^c.  They  were  ea- 
gerly purfuing  their  pleafure,  each  in  his  own  way, 
and  according  to  his  own  tafte.  Their  attention 
was  univerfally  engaged  in  thofc  affairs,  projc6ls 
and  applications,  that  were  calculated  only  for  a 
prefent  fenjiial  bappinefs,  utterly  inapprehenfive 
both  of  the  wrath  of  God,  that  was  already  enkind- 
led againft  them,  and  of  thofe  fatal  effeds  into 
which  it  foon  burft  out,  and  mingled  them  in  one 
common  deflrudion.  They  had  no  mifgivings 
of  heart  with  refpedl  to  their  danger;  although  the 
judice  of  God  is  always  awake,  and  attentive  to 
the  growth  and  prevalence  of  vice ;  or  if  fome  of 
them  had  any  apprehenfions  of  evil,  they  did  not 
fuffer  them  to  mature  into  ferious  connderations 
and  flncere  repentance.  They  were  feduced  ei- 
ther by  a  pafiion  to  imitate  the  general  pradice  and 
opinion ;  or  carried  away,  by  an  innate  defire  for 
fenfual  gratifications ;  or  overwhelmed  in  the  cares 
and  bufmefs  of  life. 

Nor  was  this  infenfibility  owing  to  want  of  fuf- 
ficient  warning.  In  the  fixth  chapter  of  Genefis, 
God  tells  vi%  with  an  orio:inal  rco^ard  to  man- 
kind  in  that  day,  that  his  Jpirit  Jhould  not  aU 
v:ayt  flrive  %viih  mmu     This,  in  the  irrongcfl  man- 

M 


93  MACWHORTER. 

ner,  implies,  that  God  had  remondrated  againfl: 
their  wickednefs — ufed  proper  methods  to  reform 
them,  and  had  given  them  fufficient  afiurance  of 
the  fatal  ifTue  of  their  impenitence.     The  Apoftle 
Peter  informs,  that   Jefus   Chrifl",  by  his  fpirit, 
preached  to  them  their  danger,  and  the  neceflity 
of  repentance.     He  acquaints  us  alfo,  that  Noah 
was  employed  to  declare  to  them,  in  the  name  of 
God,  the  wickednefs  and  danger  of  their  practices. 
They  had,  likewife,  the  (Irongeft  confirmation  of 
the  truth  of  Noah's  dodrine,  for  a  great  while  be- 
fore their  eyes,  in  that  long  and  tedious  labor  of 
his  building  the   Ark.     So  fingular  a   machine 
mufl  needs  have  ftruck  their  attention  and  awaken- 
ed their  curiofity.      The  ufe  of  which,    when 
known,  we  may  well  fuppofe  from  their  temper, 
did  not  fail  to  be  matter  of  pleafantry  and  ridicule 
among  them.     How  often  did  they  call  him  an 
old  foolifh   fanatic,  and   wild  enthufiafl: !    How 
much  was  he  the  fubjed:  of  the  feoffs  and  fneers  of 
the  gayer  fort ;  while  the  graver  ones  among  them, 
who  were  admired  as  oracles  by  the  meaner  rabble, 
pronounced  his  condudl,  the  height  of  frenzy  and 
madnefs.     Would  not  fome  fay,  '  fee  the  doating 
fool,  how  he  toils  and  labors  to  build  himfelf  a  ma- 
chine, by  which  he  may  efcape  a  deluge,  that  his 
difordered   brain   fuggefts  to  him   is  to   come.' 
While   others  reply,  '  Curfe  the  old  enthuiiaft,  I 
wifh  he  was  drowned  ten  thoufand  fathom  deep ; 
for  he  does  nothing  but  interrupt  bufuiefs,  and  dif- 
txadl  the  world  with  his  reveries  and  nonfenfe.' 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R; 


99 


II.  We  obfervc,  that  their  vvickedncfs,  infenii- 
bility  and  unbelief,  continued  to  the  laft.  The  re- 
prefentations  of  the  divine  difpleafure  againft 
them,  were  utterly  difregarded — God's  threatnings 
carried  no  terror  to  their  hearts,  and  confequently 
formed  no  prevailing  argument,  or  reafon  tor  re- 
formation. The  denunciations  of  general  ruin, 
w^ithout  a  fpeedy  change  of  heart  and  life,  were  no 
doubt  looked  upon  imaginary  and  romantic  ;  fitted, 
only  to  alarm  weak  and  fuperltitous  minds,  inca- 
pable of  examining  luch  predictions  by  the  laws 
of  reafon,  and  the  perfed:ions  of  God.  We  may 
eaiily  conclude,  that  they  objected  to  Noah's  pro- 
phecies, that  they  could  not  be  true,  becaufe  they 
were  repugnant  to  the  divine  attributes.  It  was 
natural  to  blind,  and  unbelieving  finners  to  alTert, 
that  it  was  inconfiftent  with  the  mercy  and  good- 
nefs  of  the  common  parent  of  the  univerfe,  to  dt^- 
troy  fo  many  milUons  of  his  creatures,  and  that 
too,  only  for  indulging  thofe  very  appetites  with 
which  himfelf  had  formed  them.  How  plaufible 
would  fuch  arguments  be  ?  How  well  adapted  to 
the  tafte,  and  depraved  reafon  of  licentious  and 
prefumptuous  fmners  ?  How  would  they  triumph 
in  this  reafoning,  as  a  complete  confutation  of  the 
falfliood  and  abfurdity  of  all  the  divine  declarati- 
ons by  his  fervant.  **  What  1  might  they  not  fay — 
•'  Is  not  God's  mercy  and  goodnefs  infinite  ?  Do  not 
"  all  his  works  proclaim  it  ?  Are  not  his  goodnefs 
'*  and  benevolence  as  evident  as  his  cxilience  ?  But 
**  where  Is  his  goodnefs,  or  his  mercy,  upon  the  do 


c*. 


200  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

*'  trine  of  this  romantic  fellow, this  upflart  preach- 
'*'  er  ?  Is  not  this  flrange  divinitygrofsly  unreafon- 
•^  able  ?  Such  things  cannot  come  from  God,  that 
"  are  plainly  contradictory  to  his  known  and  efien- 
*'  tialperfedions."  Noah,  ofconrequence,mufl' have 
been  deemed  an  old  fanatic ;  m^d  with  new  no- 
tions, and  zealous  to  propagate  the  infedion,  and 
make  others  as  mad  ashimfelf;  or  an  artful  knave, 
%vho  endeavored  to  dupe  mankind  to  his  private 

purpofes,  under  the  pretence  of  a  divine  commif- 
lion. 

With  thefe  principles,  with  this  perverfion  of 
rcafon,  it  w^as  plainly  impofTible,  that  divine  threat- 
nings  could  harve  their  proper  effe6l  upon  them  ; 
or  that  any  means  which  were  judged  proper  by 
infinite  wifdom  lliould prevail.  Hence  they  quick- 
ly fell  facrifices  to  the  falfhood  of  their  fVrong  and 
plaulible  reafonings.  Vain  were  all  attempts  to 
linieceive  their  minds,  and  difcover  the  uncertain- 
ty of  their  elaborate  arguments.  But  the  event 
convinced  them  by  an  awful  experiment,  of  what 
their  reafon  could  never  reconcile  with  the  perfec- 
tions of  God,  or  admit  as  worthy  of  their  attenti- 
on and  credit.  Their  arguments  drawn  from  the 
nature  and  perfections  of  God,  mightily  comfort- 
ed theirhardened  hearts,  and  fupported  their  blind 
minds,  until  the  day  in  which  ^be  fountains  of  the 
great  deep  zvere  broken  up,  and  then  their  refuge  of 
lies  was  fwept  away;  and  the  conviction  of  the 
truth  of  divine  revelation  was  forced  in  upon  their 
minds,  with  all  the  horrors  of  defpair — Thus  ma- 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R.  loc 

ny,  even  at  this  day,  pretendedly  argue  from  the 
divine  perfedions  againil  divnie  revelation  ;  and 
like  xhefe  unhappy  anodiluvians,  will  receive  con- 
vidion  when  it  is  too  late,  from  the  deluge  of  Je- 
hovah's wrath,  which  they  would  not  believe. 

III.  We  obferve,  that  the  vengeance  of  Heaven 
executed  by  a  general  flood,  was  to  them  extreme- 
ly fudden  and  furprizing. — They  had  for  a  long 
courfe  of  years,  the  loudcfl  calls  to  repentance, 
and  the  mod  exprefs  warnings  of  univcrfal  ruin, 
in  cafe  of  difobedience.  Noah,  it  is  probable, 
was  a  preacher  of  righteoufnefs  an  hundred  years, 
and  endeavored  to  ftem  the  current  of  general 
wickednefs,  by  the  application  of  divine  threat- 
nings,  and  exhortations  to  repentance.  In  this  view, 
therefore,  their  deftruclion  was  not  at  all  fudden,  nor 
unexpected.  But  they  did  not  believe  the  truths 
of  God  ;  the  divine  threarnings  were  to  them  as 
idle  dreams. — They  ate,  they  drank,  they  marriedy 
and  were  giving  in  marriage,  until  the  day  Noah  en^ 
tered  into  the  Ark,  and  the  flood  came  and  defiroyed 
them  all. — They  were  fure  in  themfelves  no  fuch 
event  would  happen — they  were  fure  God  was 
merciful,  and  in  this  confidence  they  blefTed 
themfelves,  and  bid  defiance  to  fuch  fliocking  and 
barbarous  declarations.  They  could  not,  in  any 
fhape,  believe  them,  until  the  fatal  event  ad- 
miniiTered  demonil; ration,  with  confufion  to  their 
fcnfcs — until  they  found  themfelves  overwhelmed, 
isnd  flrangling  in  the  flood,  and  the  fame  ven- 


^^u 


4i'>' 


loz  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

geance  purfuing  them  down  to  Hell.  How  aw- 
ful was  the  fecurity  and  confidence,  in  which  they 
were  furprifed  1  While  all  were  cheaiful,  gay,  eafy, 
and  happy,  facrificing  to  pleafure,  indulging  their 
natural,  and  as  they  imagined,  innocent  deiires, 
looking  for  no  fuch  thing ;  they  lift  up  their  eyes, 
and  behold,  the  awful  torrent  from  afar,  rolling 
irrefiftably  along!  Oh  dreadful  conilernation  i 
Ihocking  change  1  In  a  moment,  from  mirth,  mu- 
fic,  tranquillity  and  joy,  to  horror,  amazement, 
and  defpairl  Hear  how  they  fhriek  and  howH 
but  God  laughs  at  their  calamity  1  See  how  they 
run  hither  and  thither,  mingling  without  diftinc- 
tion ;  in  diftradion,  looking  for  places  of  refuge 
and  fecurity  1  See  fome  afcending  to  the  tops  of 
houfes,  and  afpiring  domes  I  Vain  expedient !  for 
the  impetuous  furge  overturns  their  ftrong  places> 
and  confounds  their  hopes  1  See  millions  fleeing 
to  the  lofty  mountains,  before  the  encreafing  flood  I 
But  Oh  1  how  fruitlefs  is  their  attempt !  1  hou- 
fands  fink  in  the  vale — Thoufands  are  overtaken 
upon  the  brows  of  the  fleep  hills,  and  dafhed  to 
pieces  by  the  lafhing  waves,  among  the  craggy 
rocks — The  rcfidue  are  fwept  from  the  deceitful 
fummit,  down  the  long  precipice,  to  deeper  ruin! 
Hark,  how  they  cry  for  mercy  !  But  alas,  it  is  now 
too  late !  Thefe  cries  might  have  fucceeded,  had 
they  been  made  in  time ;  but  then  they  judged  ' 
them  unnecelfary,  and  that  it  was  too  foon :  as 
many,  even  at  this  day,  put  off  fceking  God,  and 
crying  for  mercy,  until  they  are  furprifed  in  deaths 


y 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R.  ro> 

IV.  We  obfervc,  that  the  circumfiances  and 
flate  of  mankind  at  thofc  feafons  in  which  Jcfus 
Chrill  will  come  to  punifli  and  judge  them,  will 
greatly  refemble  thofc  at  the  time  of  the  flood. — 
They  will  be  times  of  great  fecurity,  of  eminent 
inconlideration  and  careleiTnefs,  with  refpedl  to 
the  matters  of  religion  and  eternity :  Seafons  in 
which  both  wife  and  foolifh  virgins  will  be  fleep- 
jng;  in  which  profanenefs  and  wickednefs  will 
prevail ;  the  love  of  pleafure,  and  the  love  of  the 
world,  will  be  remarkably  great  and  general. 

I.  This  is  often  the  cafe  w^hen  Jefus  Chrifl 
comes  to  remove  particular  iinners  by  death. — It 
frequently  happens  that  carelefs  and  impenitent 
finners,  who  have  had  many  warnings  of  their  dan- 
ger, and  made  light  of  them,  are  taken  av/ay  when 
they  leafi:  expeded  fuch  an  event.  Innumerable 
arc  the  inflances  of  this  fort.  How  often  are  men 
checked  in  the  career  of  their  madnefs,  folly  and 
fecurity,  with  that  awful  language,  noufool!  this 
night  Jhall  thy  foul  he  required  of  thee.  Oh !  my 
brethren,  a  flate  of  fecurity  is  a  dangerous  ftate  I 
When  fmners  cry,  -peace^  peace,  then  fudden  de- 
ftru(;l:ion  cometh ;  when  they  imagine  themfelves 
mod  diflant  from  death,  judgment,  and  eternity, 
then  thofe  events  are  neareft.  How  tremendous 
is  it,  to  be  arreflcd  by  the  grim  meffenger  in  the 
midfl  of  fcenes  of  pleafure,  or  worldly  projects, 
and  not  one  day  more  allowed  to  prepare  for  ano- 
ther (late ! 


104  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

2.  This  is  the  cafe  when  Jefus  Chrifl  comes  to 
puniih  and  deftroy  guilty  and  impenitent  nations 
and  churches. — Nothing  is  more  ccrta'n  than  that 
in  all  pad  ages,   feafons  of  divine  judgments  on 
communities,  either  civil  or  facred,  have  ever  been 
feafons  of  great  fecurity,  and  reigning  impiety. — 
The  truth  of  this  obfervation  is  evident  with  ref- 
ped;  to  the  Jewiih  nation,  in  all  the  public  judg- 
ments God  poured  out  upon  them. — And   the 
conduct  of  Providence  towards  this  nation,  ought 
particularly  to  be  obferved  ;  for  it  is  defigned  as 
a  fpecimen  of  the  ordinary  methods,  in  which  God 
will  deal  with  com.munities  that  he  has  diliin- 
guiflied  with  the  honorable  relation  to  himfelf,  as 
his  church  and  people. — It  is  evident  God  never 
vifited  them  with  any  public  remarkable  calamity, 
but  fome  remarkable  public  defediion  is  mention- 
ed as  the  immediate   reafon  and  ground  of  it.—* 
They  indeed    often   difowned  the  imputation ; 
they  denied  their  guilt ;  were  infenfible  of  any 
fuch  remarkable  degeneracy,  for  which  they  fhould 
be   fo  fcverely  vifited ;    they  refufed   to  accept 
thofc  judgments  as  the  puniihment  of  their  fins  ; 
and  had  the  common  difcafe  of  an  unhumblcd 
heart  to  exculpate  themfelves. — But  from  them 
we  learn,  that  public  judgments  on  a  profelTing 
people,  are  always  the  ordinary  effect,  and  defign- 
ed puniihment  of  public  declenfions  from  their 
duty,  and  regard  to  the  covenant  and  oaths  of  God 
they  are  under.     And  their  not  feeing  themfelves 
in  this  light,  nor  being  afFeded  with  them  is  no 
argument  at  all  that  this  is  not  the  cafe. 


:Jt 


M  A  C  V/  H  O  R  T  £  R.  105 

3.  This  will  be  the  cafe,  when  Jefus  Chrid 
fliall  be  revealed  from  Heaven  to  hold  the  gene- 
ral judgment. — Av.ful  fecurity,  and  awful  wick- 
ednefs  will  then  prevail ;  for  fcarcely  will  faith  be 
found  upon  the  earth. 

There  is  a  day,  a  dreadful  day,  fixed  by  divine 
decree,  when  Jefus  Chrifl:  fhall  be  revealed  from 
Heaven,  with  his 'mighty  Angels  inflaming  fire, 
to  take  vengeance  on  them,  that  know  not  God, 
and   obey   not  the  Gofpel — to   call  all  nations, 
tongues  and  languages;  all  the  kindreds  of  the 
earth,  and  every  individual  that  ever  exiftcd,  to 
his  bar  ; — -to  lay  open  the  fecrets  of  every  heart — ■ 
to  difclofe  the  hidden  fprings  of  action,  and  de- 
termine the  real  characters  of  men,  and  fix  their 
eternal  defliny  !    One  would  imagine,    that  the 
certainty  of  an  event  of  fuch  high  confequence> 
and  everlafting  importancci  would  have  an  irrefif- 
tible  eifed: :  that  it  would  intcrefb  and  penetrate 
every  heart,  and  determine  all  univerfally  to  the 
rnofl  iludious  and    incelTant  attention   to  thofe 
things,  whereby  they  might  be  prepared  to  ft  and 
iii  the  awful  day  1   And  yet  we  are  allured,  not- 
withftanding,  that  it  will  be  a  time  of  great  and 
general  fecurity.     Jefus  Chriii's  coming  will  be 
as  a  thief  in  the  night;  when  men  are  in  a  pro- 
found ficcp,  altogether  inapprehenfive  of  danger. 
As  in  the  days  that  were  before  the  floods  they  zvere 
iating  and  drinking^  marrying  and  giving  in  marriage ^ 
:t::til  the  day  that  Noah  entered  into  the  Ark,  and  knet^- 


io6  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

not  until  the  flood  came  and  took  them  all  away  ;  f^ 
Jhall  alfo  the  comhig  of  the  Son  of  Man  be, 

I  proceed  now  to  clofe  this  difcourfe  with  a  few 
refledions. 

I.  How  great  is  the  refemblance  between  our 
prefent  flate,  and  that  of   mankind  before  the 
flood !  The  fimilitude  bears  in  all  refpeds,  and 
that  too  with  peculiar  aggravations  on  our  part. 
It  is  fo  glaring  to  every  ferious  obferver,  that  the 
very  mention  of  it  were  fufficient  to  bring  all  to  an 
humble  confcflion,  and  mournfulfenfeof  our  dan- 
ger.    But,  it  is  the  dreadful  unhappinefs  of  lin- 
ners,  the  nearer  they  approach  to  judgment  and 
ruin,  the  more  blind  and  infcnfible  they  grow.— » 
This  arifes  from  two  general  caufes.     i .  The  pro- 
per nature  of  finful  courfes,  which  always  blind  the 
mind,  and  harden  the  heart.     2.  The  additional 
judgment  of  God,  who  permits  the  malignity  of 
the  human  heart  to  exert  itfelf  with  lefs  control. — 
He  ceafes  to  apply  thofe  -  ufual  methods  of  re- 
Uraint — gives  them  up  more  to  themfelves — leaves 
them  to  the  government  of  their  own  heart's  lufls 
■ — denies  them  reftraining  grace — takes  his  fpirit 
from  them. 

The  refemblance  between  us  and  the  old  world, 
is  evident  in  the  following  refpeds. — The  univer- 
fal  prevalence  of  deep  fccurity — the  great  means 
which  God  is  ufing  with  us  to  reclaim  us — and  the 
amazing  wickcdnefs  which  abounds  among  all 
ranks  of  men  notwithflanding. 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R.  107 

I.  The  rcfemblance  is  evident  in  the  univerfal 
prevalence  of  deep  fecurity.  Let  us  look  around  us, 
and  do  we  not  find  in  ourfelves  and  others,  ftupi- 
:dity  and  unbelief  in  its  ftrongeft  likenefs,  to  that 
we  fee  drawn  for  thofe  bevond  the  flood  ?  Are  we 
ading  any  otherwife  than  they  ?  Are  we  doing  any 
thing  elfe  but  eating  and  drinking^  marrying  and giv^ 
f'ng  in  marriage,  buying,  felling,  planting,  building, 
&c. — though  the  wrath  of  God  is  ready  to  burll 
upon  our  devoted  heads ! — Are  wq  doing  any  thing 
but  increafing  our  guilt,  which  is  already  gone  up 
to  Heaven  ?  Are  we  not  by  adding  iniquity  to  ini- 
quity, blowing  up  the  fury  of  God  Almighty  to  an 
unquenchable  flame  ?  Are  we  not  walking  in  fe- 
curity, taking  no  notice  either  of  his  word  or  pro- 
vidence, as  though  we  were  refolved  to  make  trial 
of  what  God  will  do  after  all  his  threatnings  ?  Oh 
foolifl:!  people  !  do  you  thus  provoke  the  Lord  to 
jealoufy  ?  Are  you  fl:ronger  than  he  ?  Remember 
if  you  thus  continue,  your  feet  flriall  Aide  in  due 
time.  The  things  that  come  upon  you  make 
hafl:e:-— And  nothing  but  repentance — nothing 
but  a  fpeedy  entrance  into  the  Gofpel  Ark — no- 
thing but  taking  refuge  immediately  under  Em^ 
manuel's  wings,  can  fecure  you  an  efcape. 

IL  The  refcmblance  between  us  and  the  old 
world  is  fl:rong,  in  refpedl  to  the  great  means  God 
is  ufing  with  us  to  reclaim  us.  Noah  was  a 
preacher  of  righteoufnefs  to  them,  but  we  have 
Jefus  Chrill  and  his  Apoftles  preaching  righteouf- 


108  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R, 

nefs  to  us.  The  exhortations  to  repentance — the 
"warnings  of  our  danger  recorded  in  the  fcriptures, 
are  very  many ;  and  thefe  exhortations  and  warn- 
ings are  fo  clear  and  pointed,  that  he  that  runs 
may  read  them.  He  muft  be  abfolutely  Itupid, 
and  nearly  funk  into  a  (late  of  Atheifm,  that  does 
not  perceive  and  underftand  thier  voice.  They 
proclaim  aloud  the  height  and  enormity  of  our 
wickcdnefs,  and  the  difpleafure  of  Heaven  againil 
us. 

How  loudly  have  we  been  called  upon  to  repenjt 
and  change  our  v/ays  1  Howearneftly  and  frequent- 
Iv^  has  the  importance  and  neccflity  hereof  bee.^ 
inculcated  upon  us  1 — How  exprefs  have  been  the 
warnings  we  have  had,  and  ilili  have  of  the  dan- 
ger of  our  natural  courfes  of  fm  and  pleafurel- — ' 
How  often  have  the  terrors  of  that  wrath,  to  which 
we'  expofe  ourfelvcs  by  impenitence,  formality  and 
neglip"encc  in  religion,  been  painted  and  exhibit- 
ed to  our  view,  from  the  word  of  God  1 — How  dif- 
tindly  have  the  glories  and  divine  rewards  of  the 
Gofpel  been  fct  before  us,  to  induce  us  to  prefer 
the  fervicc  and  v/ork  of  Jefus  Chrifl,  to  all  the  flat- 
tering, dcluuve,  and  linful  enjoyments  of  this, 
world  1 — How  many  events  have  v.e  miCt  with  in 
tlie  cburfc  of  our  lives,  to  roufe  our  attention  to, 
the  vanity  of  all  things  below  the  fun  I — IVe  have 
'had  line  uprjji  line,  and.  precep  upon  precept — -and 
]iotwithitanding  all  this,  does  not  an  awful  and 
fatal  fccurit.y  prevail  among  us,  as  it  did  among- 
thc  inhabitants  of  the  antediluvian  world  ? 


M  A  C  W  II  O  R  T  E  R.  109 

III.  The  amazing,  wickedncfs  which  abounds 
among  all  ranks  of  men,  befpeaks  a  too  great 
likeiicfs  between  us  and  them.     It  is  recorded  of 
them,  that  all  fiefp  had  corrupted  their  wa)\  and  the 
earth  was  filled  iviih  violence.     And  is  not  this  aw- 
fully true  with  regard  to  us  ?— I  cannot  now  pur- 
fue  this  argument  in  rjl  its  parts,  or  give  the  black 
detail  of  reigning   vices,  which  demondrate  the 
imitation  to  be  general  and  true.     Would  to  God 
that  the  matters  and  evidences^  applicable  to  thq 
fupport  of  this  reprefentation,  were  lefs  obvious 
and  lefs  abundant!^ — What  a  growing  contempt 
for  divine  revelation  takes  place  among  us  ? — Wha|: 
attempts   are  daily  made  io  weaken  its  authority 
and  influence  ? — Vain  are  all  devices  to  fupport 
virtue   by  ingenious  theories,  and  labored  argu- 
ments, when  the  plain  and  ilmple  doclrines  of  the 
Gofpel  of  Jefus  Chriit  arc  fet  ande.    Oh  1  how  blaf- 
phemous  an  infult  on  the  perfeclions  of  God,  is 
the  attempt  to   fubllirute  other  methods  to  pro- 
mote virtue  in  the  room  of  the  ever  blclled  Gof- 
pel, in  the  place   of  this  glorious  inflrumcnt  of 
Heaven  for  the  fupport  of  Religion  1   Will  not  a 
jealous  God  take  vengeance,  and  confound  the  dc- 
iigns  of  all  fucli  deillical  and  antediluvian  build- 
ers ! — But  leaving  this,  what  fort  of  wickcdnefs 
docs  not  abound  among  us  ?  Ho\v   is  the  name, 
the  dreadful  name  of  God  profaned?  Flow  often 
are  our  ears  fcunned  with  belli  ill  oaths,  and  direful 
imprecations? — How  are  God's  fabbaths  abufed? 
iiow  are  the  ordinances,  and  fpecial  iniUtution;^ 


110  M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R. 

of  Jefus  Chrift  neglcdled  ?  What  reflraint  of  pray-, 
er  ?  What  thoughtleflhefsj  refpedingall  the  great 
realities  of  eternity,  take  place  ?  How  does  beaft- 
ly  drunkennefs,  and  more  than  beaftly  unclean- 
ncfsy  in  all  their  horrid  forms,  defile  our  land  ? — 
And  how  has  love  and  friendfhip  among  mankind 
ceafed?  What  extortion  and  injuflice — what  trick- 
ing, defrauding,  overreaching,  and  cheating,  al- 
mofl  every  where  abound  ? — Alas !  how  few  arc  of 
clean  hands^  how  few  are  of  pure  hearts ! 

How  are  mankind  plunged  and  funk  into  ini* 
quity! — How  do  they  add  drunkennefs  to  theft, 
licentioufnefs  to  liberty,  profanenefs  to  foolifh  jeft^ 
ing,  and  to  all  thefe,  a  total  negled  of  divine  ad- 
monitions, and  yet  vainly  imagine  they  fhall  have 
peace! — Will  not  the  eternal  God  caufe  his  jealou- 
fy  to  fmoke  againfl:  fuchfecure  and  bold  tranfgref- 
fors? — Jehovah's  wrath  is  already  enkindled,  and 
unlefs  we  awake  to  repentance  and  reformation^ 
it  will  furely  I?urn  unto  the  loweft  belli  It  will  con- 
fume  the  young  man  and  the  virgin ^  the  JucUing  alfo 
with  the  man  of  grey  hairs. 

Let  us  hearken  to  the  divine  voice,  and  not  be 
found  proclaiming  defiance  to  the  vengeance  of 
Heaven.  Oh !  that  fecure,  ftupid,  and  carclefs 
dinners  would  make  a  ftand  ;  lay  your  ways  feri- 
oully  to  heart ;  conlider  what  is  likely  to  become 
of  you,  and  what  you  will  do  at  the  awful  appear- 
ance of  the  Son  of  Man  I 


M  A  C  W  H  O  R  T  E  R,  in 

Go,  confefs  your  fins  ;  mourn  for  your  iniqui- 
ties ;  break  oif  from  your  tranfgreflions  ;  and  cry 
unto  the  Lord,  and  it  may  be  that  he  will  rellrain 
the  fiercenefs  of  deferved  wrath,  and  beflow  blef- 
fings  Upon  you. 

Let  the  wicked  man  forfake  his  way,  and  the  un^ 
righteous  man  his  thoughts ;  and  let  him  return  unto  the 
Lord  and  he  will  have  mercy  upon  him,  and  to  our  God, 
for  he  zvill  abundantly  pardon. 

Prepare  to  meet  thy  God,  0  IJrael. — Let  there  be 
a  general  preparation.  The  Lord  is  on  his  way. 
Behold  he  comes  quickly  !  Gird  up  the  loins  of 
your  minds,  and  go  ye  forth  to  meet  him,  repent- 
ing of  your  fins,  acquiefcing  in  the  Gofpel  plan  of 
reconciliation,  obferving  all  the  commandments 
and  ordinances  of  God.  But  if  this  advice  feem 
evil  unto  you,  prepare,  O  Sinners,  for  judgment! 
Prepare  to  meet  an  incenfed  judge  1  Our  God  is  a 
confuming  fire ! — Upon  the  wicked  he  Jhall  rain 
Jnares,  fire^  and  brimjione,  and  an  horrible  tempeft  * 
this  Jhall  be  the  portion  of  your  cup. 

Let  it  be  the  fervent  prayer  of  all,  that  God 
would  awaken  the  fecure,  alarm  the  flupid  and  in- 
confiderate,  and  turn  multitudes  to  righteoufnefs. 


SERMON      VIL 

GROWTH    IN    GRACE. 


B    Y 


JOHN  H.  LIVINGSrON,  D.  D.  S.  T.  R 

One  of  the  Miniflers  of  the  Dutch  Reformed  Church,  New  \ork# 


2    Peter    iii.    i%. 
But  grow  in  Grace,  — 


NOTHING  can  be  more  worthy  of  our  at- 
tention than  the  great  truths  of  Religion. — 
There  is  no  fcience  fo  fublime  in  its  object,  fo  furc 
in  its  principles,  or  fo  important  in  its  confequen- 
ces.  Nothing  can  be  conceived  more  exteniive 
for  fpeculation,  and  at  the  fame  time  more  imme- 
diately influential  upon  our  condud:.  Theory  and 
practice  are  here  infeparably  conncdcd,  and  the 
acknowledging  of  the  truths  will  always  lead  to  god^ 
linefs,  A  fuperficial  acquaintance  with  fome  par- 
ticular dodrines,  and  a  bigotted  attachment  to 
favorite  tenets  may  foon  be  obtained,  and  confi-' 
dered  by  many  as  an  important  acquifition.  But 
the  lead  refledlion  muil  convince  us,  that  fucli 
have  reafon  to  conclude,  they  are  not  taught  of  the 
Lord^  and  know  nothing  yet  as  they  ought  to  mowM 

O 


114  LIVINGSTON. 

There  is  in  Religion  a  connexion,  a  harmony^ 
a  chain  fo  firmly  united,  that  it  cannot  be  undcr- 
llood,  if  taken  only  in  detached  parcels.     Like  a 
beautiful  and  ufeful  machine,  when  deprived  of 
any  efTential  part,  the  whole  is  deformed  or  de- 
ftroyed.     In  a  coherent  fyftcm  of  d'ocCtrine,  there 
can  be  nothing  ufelefs,  nothing  repugnant,  no- 
thing which  ought  not  to  occupy  the  very  place 
which  the  divine  author,  who  compofcd  the  whole, 
has  alligned  it.     What  will  become  of  Religion  if 
we  embrace  any  of  its  dodrines  feparately  ?  What 
is  the  Religion  of  the  Gofpel,  if  the  law  can  jufli- 
{yy  or  the  Redeemer  be  not  honored  as  the  righte- 
oufnefs  and  itrength  of  his  people  ?  What  becomes 
of  Religion,  if  faith  be  not  produdlive  of  good 
works,  or  an  hope  is  entertained  of  feeing  God 
without  the  love  and  pradlice  of  holinefs  ?  How 
mutilated,    how  changed,    how  oppofite  to  itfelf 
the  whole  can  be  made  to  appear,  when  only  a 
part  is  brought  forward  to  view  !  and  how  unfafe 
and  wavering  mufl  that  man  remain,  who  refts  fa- 
tisfied  with  fmall  attainments,  and  a  partial  know- 
ledge of  divine  truths  I 

The  Apoflle  Paul  reproves  the  Hebrews  for 
their  little  progrefs  in  knowledge,  and  urges  them 
to  go  on  unto  perfedlion.  There  are  fome  truths 
which  may  be  confidered  diS  principles  of  the  doctrine 
of  Chriji  ;  fo  plainly  revealed,  fo  fimple  and  evi- 
dent, that  mere  babes  in  underftanding  can  re- 
ceive and  digeft  them.  But  to  be  always  con- 
tented with  thcfe,  without  aiming  at  farther  pro-. 


LIVINGSTON.  11^ 

grefs,  would  be  to  feed  upon  milk,  when  an  ad- 
vanced age  renders  it  proper  to  take  ilronger  meat. 

In  the  verfe,  of  which  our  text  is  a  part,  the 
Apoftle  Peter  alfo  exhorts  believers  to  grow  in 
Icnowledge.  Grozv,  fays  he,  in  grace,  and  in  the 
knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Je/us  Cbrijt.  He 
comprifes  all  religious  knowledge,  all  that  believ- 
ers ought  to  be  anxious  to  attain,  as  far  as  it  re- 
lates to  falvation,  in  knowing  the  Lord  Jefus 
Chrifl: ;  and  with  great  propriety,  for  tn  him  the 
fulnefs  of  the  godhead  dzvells  bodily.  The  eternal 
Son  is  one  with  the  Father,  and  is  very  God.     All 

the  riches  of  the  full  affiirance  of  underjlanding,  is  , 
found  in  the  acknozvledgment  of  the  fuyjlery  of  God, 
and  of  the  Father ,  and  of  Chriji.     In  him  alfo,  as 
mediator,  are  hid  all  the  treafures  of  zvifdom  and 
knozvledge  i  and  to  him  as  the  glorious  centre,  all 
the  lines  of  Religion  are  diredled.     To  knozv  him, 
therefore ,  and  to  experience  the  pozver  of  his  refur- 
re&ion,  was  the  fum  of  Paul's  defires,  and  ought 
to  be  the  highcfl  wifh  of  every  believer. — In  thii? 
life,  at  hc^^vf^  fee  through  a  glafs  darkly.     The 
cleared  manifeftations  of  the  Redeemxr  are  but 
the  hiding  of  his  povoer ;  and  the  moft  lively  views 
of  faith  difcover  only  a  /)^r/  of  his  zvaySy^nd^  prove 
how  little  a  portion  is  known  of  him.     How  little 
do  his  people  know  of  that  depth  of  humiliation^ 
to  which  the  Saviour  ftooped  ;  of  the  greatnefs  of 
his  fuffcrings  ;  and  of  the  height  of  that  glory  to 
which   their  Emmanuel  is  now  exalted  ! — How 
little  have  they  difcovered  of  the  myftery  of  their 


ii6  L  I  V  I  N  G  S  T  O  N. 

unioft  with  Chrifl ;  and  of  the  value  of  his  righte- 
oufnefs !  How  fmall  is  their  acquaintance  with 
the  ways  of  the  Lord  in  his  fancluary,  and  his  deal- 
ings in  providence  !  After  the  longeft  experience, 
after  the  greateft  progrefs,  there  is  ftill  a  breadth 
and  length,  2l  depth  and  hright,  which  they  have  not 
comprehended  ;  there  remain  riches  in  the  love  of 
Chrift  which  pafs  their  knowledge,  and  leave  aa 
unbounded  field  for  farther  inveftigation.  ReiL 
not  therefore  fatisfied  with  what  you  have  attain- 
ed, but  grozv,  fays  the  Apoftlc,  ///  the  knozvledge  of 
our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jejus  Chrift, 

But  Peter  premifes  as  his  fird  and  principal  ex- 
hortation, to  grow  in  grace.  This  may  be  conf'  - 
dered  as  compriiing  knowledge,  and  include  ;^ 
ftill  more.  The  laft  part  of  the  verfe  can  be 
ed  as  explanatory  of  the  firfl:,  v»'hile  it  diiec, 
what  way  believers  are  chiefly  to  grow  in  grace, 
namely,  by  growing  in  the  knowledge  of  Chnu, 
as  we  fliall  diredlly  fee. 

Without  referring  you  to  the  context,  which 
would  lead  us  too  far  from  our  fubjedl,  let  it  fuf- 
fice  to  obferve,  that  the  exhortation  now  before  us, 
is  immediately  connedted  with  the  warning,  the 
Apoflle  hadjuft  given,  refpeding  the  abufe  of 
fcripture ;  which  was  often  wrefedy  by  the  unleani" 
ed  and  wjf: alley  to  their  oivn  deft rncl ion.  This  gave 
occalion  for  the  lad:  word  of  advice,  and  one  of  the 
nioft  important  Peter  ever  wrote,  btUgrow  in  grace. 
As  if  the  the  Apolllc  had  faid,  whatever  others 


LIVINGSTON.  117 

may  do  with  the  fcripture,  however  erroneous  in 
their  dodrines,  or  wicked  in  their  lives  they  may 
prove;  be  you,  believer?,  upon  your  guard.  Be- 
ware left  ye  be  led  away  zviih  the  error  of  the  wick^ 
4d,  Although  you  cannot  totally  and  finally  fall 
from  grace,  if  ever  ye  have,  incked,  been  unit- 
ed to  Chrifl,  yet  ye  can  fall  from  your  own  fleadjafl-^ 
nefs;  you  may  lofe  your  comforts,  and  forfeit 
your  ufefulnefs ;  you  may  become  involved  in 
darknefs,  and  bring  a  train  of  afflidions  and  chaf- 
tifements  upon  yourfelves.  As  an  antidote  a- 
gainli  this,  as  the  beft  prefervative  againfi:  back- 
fliding,  as  the  fum  of  all  the  chriftian  duties, 
grow  in  grace.  Whatever  progrefs  you  may  have 
made  in  Religion,  you  muft  ftill  proceed.  There 
is  no  fixed  point  at  which  a  believer  may  flop. 
Each  portion  of  life  has  its  peculiar  duties.  To 
what  degree  focver  you  have  brought  your  fandi- 
fication,  unlefs  you  carry  it  farther,  go  on  and  per- 
fevere,  you  will  ad  contrary  to  the  fpirit  and  let- 
ter of  the  Gofpel.  You  may  be  nearer  the  end 
than  others  who  have  not  made  the  fame  progrefs, 
but  you  have  not  yet  obtained  the  prize.  You 
may  have  performed  the  duties  of  youth,  but  thofe 
r)f  manhood  and  old  age  remain  to  be  difcharged. 
You  may  have  fulfilled  the  duties  of  profperiry, 
but  thofc  of  adverfity,  of  ficknefs,  and  of  dying, 
are  yet  to  be  accomplilhed.  To  confine  yourfelves 
to  a  certain  circle  of  duties,  comforts  and  exercifes ; 
to  flop  at  any  determined  period,  to  be  fatisfiecf, 
with  what  you  have  already  attained  of  love,  of 
iaithj  or  holincfs,  is  fo  contrary  to  the  nature  of 


lis  LIVINGSTON- 

true  Religion ;  that  whoever  finds  a  rePtiClancc  for 
farther  advancennent,  or  feels  lukewarm  refpedting 
a  progrefs  towards  higher  perfection,  has  reafon  to 
call  in  queftion  his  former  attainments,  and  ex« 
amine,  narrowly,    whether  the  fpirit   of  Chrifl 

dwelleth  in  him, 

,» 

Religion,  like  every  other  principle  in^the  fout 
of  man,  is  progreffive.  Wherever  it  is  planted  it 
will  increafe.  This  is  one  never  faihng  mark  of 
its  truth  and  its  divinity.  It  is  not  only  the  com- 
mand of  God,  but  it  is  the  fincere  defire  of  every 
regenerate  foul  to  g7'ow  in  grace.  This  is  the  fub- 
jedt  to  which  your  attention  is  this  evening  to  be 
called.  To  affift  you  in  forming  right  ideas  ref- 
pecling  growth  in  grace,  and  excite  you  to  attend 
thereto,  is  what,  as  the  Lord  fhall  enable  me,  I 
now  propofe.  In  doing  this  I  m.uft,  fird,  explain 
theapoftolic  exhortations ;  andthen,fecondly,direcl: 
you  to  the  befl  means  for  complying  with  the  fame. 

Grow  in  grace,  this  is  the  exhortation  of  ths 
apoftle,  this  the  folemn  charge,  expreffivc  of  a  du- 
ty univerfally  binding  upon  all  believers,  and  ex- 
tending to  Chrillians  of  every  defcription.  Nons 
fo  young  in  the  fervice  of  Chrift  as  to  be  exempt- 
ed ;  and  none  fo  old  or  advanced  in  ftation,  cha- 
rader  or  perfection,  as  to  be  raifed  above  it.  All 
have  need  of  growth  in  grace,  and  the  exhortation 
is  addreffedtoall.  To  enable  you  to  undcrftand 
this,  I  mu?(firft  fhew  you  wherein  growth  ingracq 
confids.  And  then  what  is  implied- in  the  exhor^ 
tation. 


LIVINGSTON-  n^ 

To  know  wherein  growth  in  grace  coniifi:s,  it  is 
neceffary  previoufly  to  afccrtain  the  idea  that  is 
here  to  be  affixed  to  the  word  grace.   This,  in  its 
ufual  and  higheft  acceptation,  means  the  love  of  ' 
God  ;  but  it  means  his  love  confidercd  in  a  parti- 
cular view  as  it  is   excrcifed  toward^^inncrs,  as  it 
has  for  its  objccl  not  only  the  mifcrable,  the  help- 
Icfs  and  forlorn,  but  the  rebellious,  the  vile,  the 
unworthy,  who  have  forfeited  his  favor,  and  de- 
fervc  his  wrath.     Thus,  by  grace  ye  are  faved:  that 
is,  not  by  merit,  but  by  love  freely  extended  to 
guilty  and  polluted  creatures.  And  again,  the  grace 
of  God  that  hringeth  fahation  hath  appeared  to  all 
men  :  that  is,  the  love  of  God,  who  fo  loved  the 
world,  as  to  give  his  only  begotten  fon,  is  now  by  a 
preached  gofpel  made  manifefl  to  Jews  and  Gen- 
tiles, and  publicly  offered  to  all,  without  diflinc- 
tion  of  nation,  age,  fex,  or  character. 

But  GRACE  exprefles  alfo,  in  the  language  of 
fcripture,  the  effedls  of  this  love,  and  comprehends 
all  the  benefits  of  the  new   covenant,  as  they  are 
freely  befbowed  and  favingly  applied  to  the  elect 
linner.     Thus  julTification  through  the  imputed 
righteoufnefs  of  Chrift,  is  grace.     Being  jujiijled 
freely  by  his  grace.  All  that  is  wrought  by  the  blelT- 
ed  influences  of  the  holy  fpirit  in  the  fouls  of  his 
people,  is  grace.     Effectual  calling,  a  new  heart, 
fanctification  and  perfeverance ;    in    one  word, 
whatever  is  neceflary  to  render  believers  meet  to 
be  partakers  Mthe  inheritance  of  the   faints  in 
li^htj  h  all  grace.  Of  hisfidnefs  have  we  all  receiv* 


12a  LIVINGSTON. 

ed,  and  grace  for  grace.  The  foundation  is  laid  in 
grace,  and  when  the  head  ftonc  is  brought  forth, 
the  redeemed  of  the  Lord  will  lliour,  in  regard  to 
the  whole  plan,  grace,  grace. 

It  is  with  refpecl  to  grace  in  this  lafl  view,  we 
are  to  underlland  the  apoftle  in  the  text,  when  he 
exhorts  believers  to  grow  in  grace.  The  love 
of  God,  on  his  part,  is  not  fufceptible  of  increafe. 
It  is  pcrfedl  and  abfolutely  unchangeable.  He 
loves  with  an  everlafting  love  ;  and  whom  he  lov- 
eth,  he  loveth  to  the  end.  But  zve  may  advance 
in  experiencing  the  blelTed  effedis  of  redeeming 
love.  We  may  grow  in  the  graces  of  the  fpirit, 
and  become  more  univerfally  holy.  This  is  what 
theapoftle  means,  and  this  is  what  I  now  mufl:  en- 
deavor to  explain.— Could  I  content  myfelf  in 
fumming  up  the  whole  in  few  words,  I  might  fay 
— to  grow  in  grace  is  to  improve  in  holinefs.  It 
is  to  become  more  conformable  to  the  image  of 
the  Son  of  God  ;  more  eftablifned  in  the  truths  of 
religion  ;  and  more  genuine,  habitual  and  uniform 
in  all  our  a6ls  ot  obedience.  But  this  general  view 
of  the  fubjecl  is  not  fufficient.  To  fliew  you  in 
what  it  coniifts,  I  muft  deicend  to  particulars.  I 
obferve,  therefore  : — 

I.  To  grow  in  grace,  is  to grczv  in  habitual  re^ 
fentance ;  to  become  more  humble  and  contrite  ; 
to  know  the  plague  of  our  own  heart ;  and  loathe  and 
abhor  ourfelves  on  that  account  more  fincerely 
before  God. — The  leading  exercifcs  of  the  foul  in 


LIVINGSTON.  121 

convcrfion,  rcfpedled  the  malignant  nature  and 
exceeding  grcatnefs  of  our  fins.  The  holy  fpirit 
firll  taught  us  from  the  word  to  know  our  mifery, 
and  mourn  over  our  depraved  natures  ;  and  he 
continues,  by  his  blclTed  operations,  to  lead  us  into 
clearer  views  of  the  fpirituality  of  the  divine  law, 
and  more  accurate  difcoveries  of  our  own  vilenefs 
and  unworthinefs.  Under  fuch  teachings,  a  great- 
er hatred  againft  fm  mult  arife,  a  more  conftant 
forrow  for  it,  and  ardent  longings  to  be  delivered 
from  the  body  of  this  death.  To  grow  in  grace,  is  to 
grow  in  habitual  repentance. 

2.  To  grow  in  grace,  is  to  grow  m  faith,  Wc 
are  bounds  fays  the  apoftle,  to  thank  God  always  for 
yoH  brethren^  becaife  that  your  faith  groiveth  exceed^ 
i^igly.  By  adverting  to  the  nature  of  faith,  and 
what  is  predicated  in  the  word  of  God  concerning 
it,  you  will  be  able  to  fee,  in  what  refpedls,  the 
faints  may  grow  in  faith,  and  how  efTential  a  part 
this  conftitutes  of  the  fubjecb  now  before  us. 

Saving  faith  is  not  merely  the  fimple  adl  of  the 
underftanding,  which  receives  a  report,  and  alTcnts 
to  its  truth  upon  credible  evidence ;  but  it  is  a 
complex  ad,  compriiing  alfo  the  confent  of  the 
will,  and  conformable  cxercifes  of  the  aiTeclions. 
It  is  not  only  a  believing  there  is  a  Saviour,  and  e- 
ven  that  we  need  his  help  ;  but  it  is  an  actual  ac- 
ceptance of  him  as  he  is  offered  in  the  gofpcl ;  a 
receiving  him  for  ourfclvcs  in  all  his  glorious  offi- 
cs,  as  the  Lord  our  righteoufncfs.  But  what  now 

P 


n2  L  I  V  1  N  G  S  T  O  N. 

are  the  cffeds  of  this  faith?    What  does  it  pro- 
duce ?    How  does  it  work  ?    We  anfwcr  in  few 
words  : — By   faith  the  foul    becomes   united  to 
Chrill.     He  that  is  joined  to  the  Lord  is  ofie  fpirit. 
I  in  theniy  and  thou  in  me^  that  they  may  he  made  per- 
fect in  one.  The  fpirit  of  Chrift  is  the  bond  of  this 
union  upon  his  part,  and  faith  upon  the  part  of  be- 
lievers.— Faith  is  that  grace  by  which  w^e  are  juf- 
tified.     Being  j  lift  ified  by  faith. — "  Not  that  we  are 
*'  acceptable  to  God  upon  account  of  the  worthi- 
*'  nefs  of  our  faith,  but  becaufe  only  the  fatisfac- 
*'  tion  and  righteoufnefs  of  Chrifl:  is  our  righte- 
*'  oufnefs  before  God,  and  we  cannot  receive  and 
*'  apply  the  fame  any  other  way  than  by  faith  on- 
*'  ly." — Faith   purifies   the   heart;    and   zvithout 
works  it  is  dead, — It  magnifies  the  Lord  Jefus : 
Unto  you  who  believe  he  is  precious.     It  introduces 
the  foul  to  folid  peace  and  refl.     We  which  have 
helieved  do  enter  into  reft. — Faith  overcomes  the 
"world. — Faith  leads  to  a  patient  waiting  for  the 
accomplifliment  of  the  promifes.     He  that  believ- 
eth^JJjall  not  make  hafte.    It  diredls  to  the  throne  of 
grace,  and  enables  the  faints  to  draw  near  with  a 
true  heart. — It  is  a  grace  more  precious  than  gold, 
and  the  believer  muft  expecfl  to  have  it  tried.     In 
a  word,  faith  is  the  gift  of  God.    It  is  tht  fubftance 
of  things  hoped  for,  and  the  evidence  of  things  not  fee  n. 
It  is  that  by  which  the  behever  lives.     He  walks 
by  faith  ;  and  it  will  abide  until  it  has  performed 
its  whole  work,  and  is  at  lall  changed  into  vifion. 
/  livcy  faid  Paul,  yet  not  I,  but  Chrift  Ilveth  in  me  ^ 


LIVINGSTON.  123 

Hkid  ihe  life  which  I  now  live  in  the  flcjb,  I  live  by  the 
faith  of  the  Son  of  Go  J,  who  loved  me  and  gave  himfeif 
for  me. 

Fram  this  general  view,  you  may  anticipate 
what-  is  meant  by  growing  in  faith.  It  is  to  be- 
come more  confirmed  in  the  truth  ;  and,  from 
doubts  and  fears,  to  rife  into  a  ftrong  and  filial 
confidence.  It  is  to  reahze  the  union  which  is 
effected  with  Chrifl,  and  more  habitually  to  de- 
rive all  needed  fupplies  from  him,  as  our  living 
and  covenant  head.  We  grow  in  faith,  when  it  be- 
comes more  adiive,  vigorous  and  produdlive  of 
good  w^orks.  When  we  are  enabled  in  the  fpirit- 
ual  warfare  to  take  thejhield  offaithy  and  therewith 
quench  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked.  And  when  in. 
the  darkell  feafons  and  the  fevered  trials,  we  learn. 
tQ  fay,  though  heJJay  wt?,  yet  will  I  trufi  inhrin.-^ 
Then  w^e  improve,  when  we  are  taught  more 
cheerfully  to  fubmit  to  the  yoke  of  Chrifl: ;  to  look 
unto  Jcfus ;  and  to  efteem  it  our  higheft  honor 
and  happineft  to  ^^\vj  ourfelves,  take  up  our  crofs 
daily,  and  follow  him.  Lord^  faid  the  difciples, 
rncreqf^  our  faith.  To  grow  in.  grace,  is  to  grow  in 
faith. 

3 .  To  grow  in  grace,  is  to  improve  iw  our  love 
to  God.  To  love  God,  is  to  fet  him.  always  bejove 
uSy  as  feeing  him  zvho  is  inviflle ;  to  meditate  upon 
his  glorious  perfedions  ;  and  feel  a  fervent  outgo- 
ing of  the  heart  towards  him,  as  the  firlt,  the  great- 
cfl,  and  the  beil  K^i  beings,  the  treafure^  the  portion 


124  LIVINGSTON. 

*  of  the  foul,  our  Father  and  our  God.  We  grow 
in  love  when  wc  increafe  in  our  defires  to  become 
holy  as  he  is  holy,  and  prefer  his  communion  and 
feliowfliip  above  our  chief  joys.  When  having 
tafted  that  he  is  gracious,  and  experienced  his  love 
fhed  abroad  upon  our  heaits,  we  are  pained  at  his 
abfence,  and  anxious  to  draw  tiear  to  him,  and  have 
him  lift  up  the  light  of  his  coimtenance  upon  us.  Then' 
we  grow  in  love,  when  we  feel  it  becoming  firong 
as  deathy  and  engaging  us  to  live  for  him,  whofe  we 
are  and  whom  zve  ferve.  When  we  can  lofe  the 
creature,  and  yet  find  a  fatisfying  portion  in  God. 
And  when  we  can  truly  fay,  not  only  with  refpect 
to  the  earthly  fandluary,  but  to  his  courts  in  glory: 
My  foul  thirfleth  for  God,  for  the  living  God;  when 
fhall  I  come  and  appear  before  God  I  hecaufe  thy  loving 
kindnefs  is  better  than  life,  my  lips  fJjo.ll praife  thee. 
*Thus  will  Iblefs  thee  zvhile  I  live.  I  will  lift  up  n^ 
hands  in  thy  name.  My  foul  Jh  all  be  fed  as  with  mar^ 
row  andfatnefs;  and  my  mouth  Jhall  praife  thee  zvitb 
joyful  lips.  To  grow  in  grace  is  to  grow  in  love 
to  God. 

4.  To  grow  in  grace  is  to  advance  in  zeal  for 
the  glory  of  God.  Innumerable  motives  prefs 
upon  the  mind  to  engage  us  to  glorify  him.  Whe^ 
ther  we  live  zve  are  the  hordes,  and  whether  we  die 
we  are  the  Lord's,  whether  we  live,  therefore,  or  die, 
zve  are  the  Lord's.  Wc  are  witneffes  for  God ;  a 
people  formed  for  himfelf,  that  we  fhould  JLew 
forth  his  praife.  When  we  nnderfliand  thefe  mo- 
tives better,  when  we  fttl  their  influence  more. 


LIVINGSTON.  125 

and  by  tbefe  are  urged  to  dedicate  all  we  are  and 
have  to  God,  and  improve  our  influence  upon 
others  around  us  to  do  the  fame,  then  we  grow  in 
zeal.  We  grow  in  zeal  when  we  become  more  uni- 
form in  our  obedience, more  fingle  in  our  views, and 
more  fervently  adive  in  Ihewing  forth  the  praifts 
of  him  who  hath  called  us  out  of  darknefs  into  his  mar- 
^jelloiis  light.  The  zeal  of  thine  houfe,  fays  the  Pfalm- 
ift,  hath  eaten  me  up ;  and  the  reproaches  of  them  that 
reproached  thee  are  fallen  upon  me.  Horror  hath  tak-^ 
en  hold  upon  me,  becaufe  of  the  wicked  that  forfake  thy 
lazv,  Ob  let  the  wickednefs  of  the  wicked  come  to  an 
end  !  0  that  the  falvation  of  Ifrael  zvere  come  out  of 
Zion  I 

There  is  indeed  frequently  in  young  converts, 
a  zeal  without  knowledge ;  a  boldnefs  of  fpirir, 
unreftrained  by  prudence,  and  untaught  by  expe- 
rience. Like  Jehu,  they  are  ready  to  fay — eome 
with  me  and  fee  my  zeal  for  the  Lord.  The  princi- 
ple, irx  part,  is  right,  although  it  is  mixed  with 
unhallowed  paiTions,  and  tainted  with  pride.  But 
a  more  fxtenlive  acquaintance  with  the  deceitful- 
nefs  of  their  own  hearts,  and  maturer  attention  to 
the  nature  and  difRculties  of  the  Chridian  life,  is 
found  foon  to  humble  their  forward  fpirits,  and 
lead  them  into  the  paths  of  fober  and  genuine 
zeal — //  is  good  to  be  zealoufly  affecled  always  in  a 
good  thing ;  and  the  Lord  Jefus  gave  himfel/for  us, 
that  he  might  redeem  us  from  all  iniquity y  and  purify 
unto  hivffelf  a  peculiar  people,  zealous  of  good  works. 
It  is  proper  to  fervc  God,  not  with  a  luke-wann 


126  L  I  V  I  N  G  S  T  O  N. 

foul,  which  offers  the  lame  and  the  ficky  but  with  guf 
whole  heart,  with  raifed  affedlions,  and  with  fer- 
vency of  fpirit.  To  grow  in  grace  is  to  grow  ia 
zeal. 

5.  To  grow  in  grace  is  to  become  more  heaven^ 
ly  fninded.  The  Redeemer  has  brought  life  and 
immortality  to  light,  and  opened  profpedts  to  our 
view,  which  could  only  be  obtained  by  a  divine 
revelation.  He  has  raifed  his  people,  efpecially 
under  the  New  Teflament  difpcnfation,  to  exalt-. 
ed  privileges,  and  made  us  to  fit  together  m  heavenly 
places  in  Chrift  J  ejus.  To  comprehend  thcfe  pri- 
vileges more  clearly ;  to  relifli  them  higher ;  and 
have  our  converfation  more  and.  more  as  citizens 
of  Heaven,  is  to  grow  in  heavenly  mindednefs. — 
When  the  temper  and  views  of  (Grangers  and  pil^ 
grims  prevail  in  us,  and  we  find  our  alfedions^ 
more  placed  upon  things  above ;  when  the  work 
of  Heaven  is  more  pleafant  and  habitual,  ourwor- 
(hip  fpiritual,  and  our  praifes  affedionate,  then  we 
become  more  heavenly  minded.  To  meditate  up- 
on the  heavenly  Jerufalemy  the  inninnerahlc  company 
fif  Angels t  and  the  general  affemhly  of  the  churchy  and' 
jirji-born  zvhich  are  zvritte?t  in  Heaven  ;  to  feel  a  a 
habitual  defire  of  joining  with  them  : — 

As  with  a  Seraph's  voice  to  fing  1 
To  fly  as  on  a  Cherub's  wing  1 
Performing  with  unwearied  hands. 
The  prefent  Saviour's  high  commands! 
to  be  weaned  from  this  world  ;  willing  to  fl-ay, 
und  yet  defirous  to  depart  and  be  with  Chrift  i  this 


LIVINGSTON,  127 

is  to  become  more  heavenly  minded,  and  this  is 
to  grow  in  grace. 

6.  Finally,  to  grow  in  grace,  is  to  be  emptied  of 
ef  all  dependance  upon  our/elves ^  and pra^ically  to  con- 
ftiiute  the  blejjed  J  ejus  our  all  and  in  all.  He  mud 
increafe,  but  we  muft  decreafe.  We  take  him  for 
our  all  when  jirft  we  believe  ;  but  what  that  fully 
implies,  we  do  not,  when  firfl  we  believe,  yet  un« 
derftand.  To  grow  in  grace  is  the  unfolding  of 
that  myftery.  It  is  experimentally  to  know  that 
Chriil  is  of  God  made  unto  us  ^fan^ific  at  ion.  That 
in  the  Lord  we  have  not  only  righteoufnefs, 
but  in  him  alfo  we  have  ftrength.  It  is  to  experi- 
ence that  when  we  are  weak,  then  we  are  ftrong, 
and  when  we  grow  downward  in  humility,  patience 
and  refignation,  then  we  mod  effedlually  grow  up- 
wards in  hoUnefs,  In  this  lafl:  particular,  perhaps 
more  than  in  any  other,  the  faints  are  enabled  to 
difcern  their  grov/th  in  gr.ace^  They  become  in 
their  own  eyes,  more  vile,  more  empty  and  help- 
lefs,  while  the  grace  of  Chrifl:  proves  fufficient  for 
them,  and  his  Jtrengtb  is  made  perfect  in  their  zveak^ 
ilejs. 

Time  would  fail  me  to  enumerate  all  the  fruits 
ef  the  fpirit,  or  defcend  to  all  the  branches  of  duty 
in  which  a  growth  in  grace  is  exemplified.  Let' 
\l  fuffice  to  clofe  this  part  of  the  fubjecl,  by  faying 
in  one  word,  which  fums  up  the  whole,  that  as 
far  as  our  wills  become  conformable  to  the  will  of 
God,  fo  far  and  no  farther  we  grow  in  grace„ — To 


\^r- 


128  LIVINGSTON. 

this  we  are  exhorted  in  the  text.  This  diflin- 
guifhes  the  real  Chridian  from  the  hypocrite,  the 
living  faint  from  the  dead  formalift.  To  this  the 
principle  implanted  in  regeneration  will  prompt 
us ;  and  this  the  Redeemer  exprefsly  declares  to 
be  charadleriftic  of  his  difciplcs.  Every  good  tree 
hr'mgeth  forth  good  fruit.  I  am  the  vine,  ye  are  the 
branches  ^  he  that  ahideth  in  me^  and  I  in  him,  the  fame 
bringeth  forth  much  fruit,  for  without  me  ye  can  do  no- 
thing.  Herein  is  my  Father  glorified  that  ye  bear  much 
fruit,fofIjall  ye  be  my  difciples. 

Having  feen  what  is  meant  by  growing  iw 
GRACE,  permit  me  now,  in  a  i^v^  fhort  obfervati- 
ens,  to  fhew  you  what  is  implied  in  this  exhorta-  * 
tion.     And, 

1.  It  is  evident,  to  grow  in  grace,  implies  that 
a  foul  has  received  grace.  The  tree  muft  be  plant- 
ed before  it  can  grow.  The  Lord  is  to  be  fought 
and  ferved  after  the  due  order.  The  exhortation  in- 
deed extends  to  all  who  read  the  word.  It  is  the 
duty  of  all  men  to  grow  in  grace.  But  the  uncon- 
verted muft  obtain  grace,  they  mull:  firft  receive 
the  Lord  Jefus  as  ttieir  Saviour,  before  they  can 
follow  him ;  the  principle  of  holinefs  muft  be  form- 
ed in  the  heart  by  regeneration,  before  it  can  pof- 
libly  grow. 

2.  Growing  in  grace,  implies  an  a&ual  increafc. 
It  is  not  a  mere  nominal,  but  a  real;  not  a  fi(flitious, 
but  a  true  and  fubflantial  advancement  in  holinefs. 
Who  ever  has  grown  in  grace,  is  become  wifcr  anv^ 


LIVINGSTON.  129 

better  than  he  was  before.  It  is  oppofed  to  a  ftu- 
pid  fatisfadlion  with  paft  attainments,  and  efpeci- 
aily,  to  all  backfliding.  It  has  its  own  peculiar 
marks  and  evidences,  by  which  it  may  be  diftin- 
guiflied  from  all  counterfeits,  and  is  elTentially  dif- 
terent  from  the  higheil  accompliihments  which  the 
Hatural  man  can  poflibly  pollefs. 

By  ftudy  and  attention,  an  extenfive  view  not 
only  of  fciencc  in  general,  but  of  religion,  maybe 
obtained.  The  dodrines  can  be  known,  their 
connexions  obferved,  and  the  arguments  by  which 
they  are  fupported,  properly  brought  forward* 
Reafon  and  revelation  fupply  materials  for  vaft 
erudition,  and  this,  when  joined  to  great  gifts,  may 
recommend  a  man  to  the  world ;  but  after  all,  that 
man  may  fail  of  the  grace  of  God,  and  his  know- 
ledge only  ferve  to  puff  him  up.  Though  I /peak 
with  ths  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels,  and  have  not 
chanty ^  I  am  become  as  founding  brafs  or  a  tinkling 
cynibaL  Though  I  have  the  gift  of  frophcjcy^  and  un^ 
derfiandall  myfteries  and  all  knowledg'^',  and  have  not 
charity,  I  am  nothing,  Thou  belicvef  there  is  one  God, 
thou  doeji  well,  the  devils  alfo  believe  and  tremble.  A, 
mere  growth  in  knowledge  OYgif/s,  is  not  a  growth 
in  grace. 

Education,  connexions  and  prejudice,  may  cvs^ 
ate  a  violent  attachment  to  fome  particular  doc- 
trines and  forms  of  worfliip  ;  and  in  this  it  is  cafy 
to  go  great  lengths  ;  it  is  very  eafy  tacry,  the  tem-^ 
flc  of  th  Lord,  the  temple  of  the  Lord,  without  pof-. 


130  LIVINGSTON. 

fefling  the  leaft  degree  of  holinefs  or  love  to  the 
Lord  of  the  Temple^— To  grow  in  bigotry  is  not  to 
grow  in  grace. 

From  a  weaknefs  of  underhand ing,  from  pafli- 
ons  liable  to  be  quickly  moved,  and  from  unfet- 
tied  principles,  the  human  mind  is  fufceptible  of 
llrange  impreflions,  and  is  often  wrought  up  to 
mod  extravagant  heights ;  but  a  growth  in  enthu- 
Jiajm  is  no  growth  in  grace. 

Our  holy  Religion  is  a  mod  reafonable  fervicc. 
Its  principles  will  bear  the  fcverefl  fcrutiny,  and 
believers  can  give  a  reafon  of  the  hope  that  is  in 
them.  Nothing  therefore  that  is  diflionorable  to* 
God,  unworthy  of  man,  or  that  is  not  founded  up- 
on fcripture,  mull  be  confidered  as  genuine.  jTo 
the  law  and  to  the  tefiimony*  if  they  /peak  not  accord-^ 
ing  to  this  wordy  it  is  becauje  there  is  no  light  in  them • 

3.  The  exhortation  to  grow  in  grace  implies, 
that  holinefs  is  progreffive ;  that  religion,  when  it 
iirft  begins  in  the  heart,  is  not  fo  extenlive  ;  not, 
if  I  may  ufe  the  expreflion,  fo  complete  in  all  its 
parts,  fo  diftinguiflied  in  all  its  features,  as  it  af- 
terwards becomes.  It  is  the  ufual  way  of  God,  in 
all  his  works,  to  rife  from  fmaller  beginnings  to 
perfediion  ;  and  we  know  it  is  fo  in  religion.  By 
progreflive  (leps  his  people  are  led,  and  they  be- 
come gradually  more  and  more  prepared  to  glori- 
fy him  on  earth,  and  enjoy  him  in  heaven.  Hence, 
Relievers  are  compared  to  babes^  to  children,  to 


LIVINGSTON.  ,3r 

young  men  and  to  fathers.  The  very  ,vords  im- 
ply very^d.fterent  degrees  of  knowledge,  ftrength. 
ufefulnefs  and  peirfedion.  ^    ' 

4-  This  exhortation  implies  a  pofihe  duty  in- 
cumbent upon  all  believers,  to  delire  and  ftrive  to 
grow  m  grace.  It  is  their  duty,  becaufe  it  is  the 
exprefs  command  of  God-becaufe  k  ,s  promifed 
to  ail  his  people-^and  becaufe  it  has  always  been 
thewifh  ofthefamts.  their  pn„apal  praver  and    ' 

which  refer  to  each  of  thefe  are  fo  numerous" that 

to  mention  them  would  be  almoft  to  repeat  the 
,    bible.     Asaproofrefpedmgthe  practice  of  the 

laints.  let  me  only  remind  you  of  the  apoftle  Paul 
Doyou  knou,'  (toufe  the  words  of  a  very  celebraJ 

ted  preacher* j '  do  you  know  a  greater  than  Pa.^l  » 
C^n  you  concave  virtue  m  a  ^rermtnft: 
gree     Behold  a  man  fired  with  zeal,  making  what 
he  thought  the  caufe  of  God  his  own  caufe    Godl 
enemies  his  enemies,  the  intered  of  God  'the  7n 
tereft  of  himfelf !    Behold  a  man  who  tul  h  s   t" 
tention  to  truth,  and.  the  moment  he  difcovers  it 
embraces  and  openly   avows  it  1     Behold  Tman' 
who  not  content  to  be  an  ordinary  ChrSian    and 
to  favchimfclf  alone,  afpiring  at  the  glo  y  of'  car 

21!;,?      '^'"  ''^''^  '^^'^  illuminated  himfelf!- 

S^th  h    M  '  ?T'  '^''^""S-  '^y'"^'  -d  fenl- 
»ng  with  his  blood  the  truths  he  taught !     An  ax-. 

:'  S.uria  S«ni.   I.  Cor.  ix.  ,6,  ,7, 


132  LIVINGSTON. 

dent  zealot,  a  fincere  convert^  an  accomplifhed 
miniftcr,  a  bleeding  martyr ! — Shew  me  in  the 
modern  or  primitive  Church,  a  greater  character 
than  Paul  1  Let  any  man  produce  a  Chrift-ian  who 
had  more  reafon  to  be  fatisfied  with  himfelf,  and 
who  had  more  right  to  pretend  that  he  had  dif- 
charged  all  his  duties  I  Yet  this  very  man,  this, 
Paul,  forgot  thoje  things  which  were  behind!  This 
very  Paul  was  prejfmg  forward  t  This  is  the  man 
who  feared  he  fhould  be  a  cafi  away  !  And  you 
fmoakingjlaxy  you  bruifed  reedy  you  who  have  hard- 
ly taken  root  in  the  Chrillian  foil,  you  who  have- 
hardly  a  fpark  of  love  to  God,  do  you  think  your 
piety  fufficient  ?  Are  you  the  man  to  leave  off  eOi- 
deavoring  to  make  new  advances  V 

5.  To  add  no  more,  this  exhortation  implie^^ 
that  as  it  is  our  duty  to  attend  to  this  one  thing,  fa 
we  may  be  alTured  that  God  has  provided  proper 
means  for  our  obtaining  the  fame.  Sandification,, 
conlidered  on  the  part  of  God,  and  as  wrought  by 
him  in  our  fouls,  is  one  of  the  benefits  of  the  cav-- 
enant  of  grace,  and  infeparably  follows  after  juHi-. 
lication.  But  he  deals  with  us  as  rational  beings, 
and  therefore,  fan«flification  confidered  on  our 
part,  becomes  an  elTential  duty  5  and  we  mufl  fee 
10  it,  that  we  are  faithful  and  dilicrcnt  in  the  ufe  of 
thofe  means  which  God  has  appointed,  and  which 
are  wifely  calculated  to  produce  a  growth  in  grace. 
But  what  are  thofe  means  ?  In  what  way,  and  by^ 
what  method  can  this  great  end  be  bed  attained? 


LI  V  I  N  G  S  T  O  N.  133 

The  reply  to  thcfe  enquiries  was  the  .second 
thing  I  promifcd,  and  which  I  now  intended  to 
make: — But  the  fubjed  is  teo  important  to  be 
llightly  paffed  over,  and  to  do  jufticc  to  it,  will  re- 
quire more  time  than  is  allotted  to  our  prefent  ex- 
ercife.  I  fhall  therefore  referve  this,  with  an  ap- 
plication to  the  whole,  as  the  fubftance  of  another 
difcourfe.  And  fhall  now  clofe,  with  only  requeft- 
ing  youferioufly  to  reflect  upon  the  duty  to  which 
we  have  been  exhorted. — Grow  in  grace  I  How 
great,  how  folemn  a  charge  I  Like  a  voice  from 
Heaven,  it  addrelTes  us  with  authority  divine,  and 
love  inexprcfTible  1  A  voice,  limilar  to  that  which 
called  to  the  apoftle  in  the  Apocalypfe,  come  up 
hither  I 

Adore,  mybrethen,  the  God  of  grace,  and  blefs 

his  holy  name  for  providing  a  ranfom  1 — fVbat 

the  lazv  could  not  do  in  that  it  was  weak  through  the 

jlejijy  God  fending  his  own  Jon  in  the  likenefs  of  jinfiit 

Jlejhy  and  for  Jin  condemned  fin  in  theflejh,  that  the 

right eoufnefs  of  the  lazv  might  he  fulfilled  in  us^  whg 

walk  not  after  the  flefh,  but  after  thefpirit.     A  new 

and  living  way  is  confecrated  for  us,  and  we  have 

holdnefs  to  enter  'into  the  holief  by  the  blood  of  Jefus. 

How  fure  the  atoning  efficacy  of  his  death  1  How 

rich  the  juftifying  merit  of  his  righteoufnefs !  For 

his  fake  the  holy  fpirit  will  dwell  with  men,  and 

powerfully  apply  what  the  Redeemer  purchafed. 

He  renews  their  fouls,  bedows  his  graces,  and  by 

a  progreflive  fandification,  prepares  them  as  a 

hide  adorned  for  her  hujbando 


1^4^  LIVINGSTON. 

But  is  this  the  great  work  which  God  has 
wrought  ?  Is  this  the  work  which  he  has  been  car- 
rying on  in  the  hearts  of  his  people  in  every  age? 
And  are  there  thoufands  now  upon  earth,  who  are 
united  to  Chrift,  and,  by  growing  in  grace,  arc 
preparing  to  dwell  forever  with  him  ?  Let  it  alarm 
your  minds,  and  excite  in  you  mofl:  earneft  and 
fervent  defires  to  participate  in  the  fame  blefling : 
O  that  you  may  obtain  grace  to  furmount  every 
obftacle,  and  refolve  to  join  the  company  of  the 
redeemed  !  O  that  you  may  fay,  and  perform  what 
you  fay,  we  will  go  with  you  ^  for  we  have  heard  that 
God  is  with  you  I 

This  world  is  the  firfl  ftage  of  our  exiflence. — 
Here  we  are  preparing  for  future  fcenes,  where 
our  ftate  will  be  unalterably  fixed,  in  happinefs  or^. 
wo.  Now  is  the  accepted  time  for  us,  l^e hold  now- 
is  the  day  ofjahation.  Dream  not  of  any  probation 
hereafter.  From  hell  there  is  no  reprieve.  The 
wicked  will  go  away  with  the  irrevocable  curfe  oF 
the  Supreme  Judge,  and  remain  fealed  down  inta 
an  everlafting,  an  abfolutely  everlafting  punifh- 
ment.  There  fcripture  leaves  them  ;  and  the  f moke 
ef  their  torment  afcendeth  up  forever  and  ever.  While 
life  then  remains,  and  the  means  of  grace  are  en- 
joyed, harden  not  your  hearts  and  wrong  not  your 
ov/n  fouls.  The  Son  of  God  has  come  to  you  in 
a  preached  gofpel ;  fee  that  you  reverence  him. — 
Kifs  the  Son,  left  he  be  angry,  and  ye  perijh  from  ih 
way  when  his  wrath  is  kindled  but  a  little  : — Blcjfed 
are  all  they  that  put  their  truft  in  hinu     Amen. 


't 


SERMON     VIII. 

GROWTH    IN    GRACE. 

B    Y 

JOHN  H.  LIVINGSrON,  D.  D.  S.  T.  P. 

One  of  the  Miniflers  of  the  Dutch  Reformed  Church,  New- York. 


2    Peter    iii.    i8. 

But  grow  in  Grace,  — 


THE  fervice  in  the  Temple,  under  the  Old 
Teftament,  was  fitted  to  the  difpenfation  of 
the  Church  before  the  coming  of  the  Meiiiah.- 
The  types  and  facrifices  direded  the  views  of  be- 
lievers to  the  Lamb  of  God^  who  was  to  take  a- 
way  the  fms  of  the  world ;  and  when  their  faith 
was  in  exercife,  they  attended  the  offerings  with 
raifed  affections,  and  furrounded  the  altar  with 
fongs  of  praife.  At  their  three  great  ftated  feafts, 
they  repaired  to  Jerufalem  with  great  willingnefs, 
and  chcarfully  furmounted  the  difficulties  and  dif- 
couragements  which  attended  them  on  the  way. 
The  Pfalmift  celebrates  this  in  the  84th  Pfalm, 
and  pronounces  a  bleffing  upon  thofe,  in  ivhofe 
hearts  are  the  %tmys  of  them.  Who  having  fixed 
their  happinefs  in  God  as  their  highcd  end^  rejoice 


136  LIVINGSTON. 

in  all  the  ways  which  lead  to  him,  and  are  faithful 
in  ufing  the  means  he  has  appointed  to  flrengthen 
their  graces,  and  keep  up  their  commnuion  with 
him.  They  go  from  Jirength  to  Jirengtb^  every  one  of 
ihem  in  Zion  appeareth  before  God.  As  they  travel- 
led towards  the  temple,  their  company  increafed 
by  the  acccffion  of  more  from  the  towns  through 
which  they  pafTed ;  and  with  refped:  to  individu- 
als, inftead  of  wearying  with  the  fatigues  of  the 
journey,  they  found  their  ftrength  recruited,  the 
nearer  they  came  to  Jerufalem. — What  is  faid  of 
the  Ifraelitcs  in  that  Ffalm,  is  fully  accomplifhed, 
in  the  higheil  fcnfe  of  the  words  in  all  believers, 
under  the  New  Tedamenl  difpenfation.  They 
go  from  jirength  to  ftrength.  They  grow  in  grace, 
and  iliall  at  laft  become  perfect  in  glory.  The 
righteous  fhall  hold  on  their  way,  and  they  that 
have  clean  hands  iliall  be  fironger  and ftronger. — 
They  are  changed  from  one  degree  of  glorious 
grace  to  another,  until  at  length  every  one  of  ihem 
appeareth  before  God  in  Zion.  BlelTed  therefore  is 
the  man  ///  whofe  heart  are  the  ways  of  them.  Who 
loves,  and  earneftly  improves  the  means  of  grace, 
becaufe  of  their  connection  with  the  end,  and  has 
no  care,  delight  or  pleafure  fo  near  his  heart. — 
What  thofe  means  of  grace  are,  we  now,  my  breth- 
ren, arc  particularly  to  confider. 

In  a  former  difcourfe  upon  growth  in  grace,  I 
propofcd — 

I.  To  explain  the  exhortation  of  the  Apolile. 
And» 


LIVINGSTON.  .137 

II.  To  diredl  you  to  the  bed  means  for  comply- 
ing with  it. 

The  jirji  I  have  finifhed. — It  now  remains  to 
attend  to  the  Jecond.  What  are  the  means  ap- 
pointed of  God  ?  In  what  way,  and  by  what  me- 
thod can  we  beft  attain  a  growth  in  grace? — I  fliall 
firfl  premife  a  general  anfwer,  and  then  defcend  to 
particulars. 

First,  I  anfwer  in  general y  that  we  cannot  ex- 
pedl  to  grow  in  grace  without  vigorous  exertions. 
The  progrefs  of  Chriflians  is  always  mentioned  in 
•fcripture,  by  terms  which  imply  the  mod  adive 
and  refoiute  efforts.  It  is  called  a  warfare,  a  wred- 
ling,  a  race ;  and  the  exercifes  of  believers  are  de- 
fcribed  as  fuch,  which  call  up  all  their  attention, 
and  require  their  utmofl  exertions.  They  are  to 
give  all  diligence,  to  be  flrong,  to  quit  themfelves 
like  men,  to  watch  and  to  hejober;  they  are  to  Jirive 
to  enter  in,  and  in  a  certain  fenfe,  are  to  ufe  violence, 
for  the  violent  take  it  by  force.  The  obftacles  which 
render  fuch  efforts  necelTary,  are  not  on  the  part  of 
Religion,  in  \x.^Q\^Qoi\i\(\QXQd,forthewaysofvjifdom 
arezvays  ofpleafantnefs,  and  all  her  paths  are  peace- 
but  they  arife  from  the  remaining  depravity  in  our 
own  hearts ;  that  lazv  in  onr  members,  which  wars 
againll  the  law  of  our  minds,  and  too  often  brings 
us  into  captivity  to  the  lazv  of  fin.  We  are  not  there- 
fore to  fuppofc  when  we  are  jufrified  by  believing 
in  Chrifl,  our  whole  work  is  done.  Then  f  rft  we 
put  on  the  armour,  and  mud  fight  the  good  fight  of 

R 


138  LIVINGSTON. 

faith  before  we  can  obtain  the  crown.  If  we  flcep, 
the  enemy  will  foon  fow  tares ;  our  corrupt  na- 
tures, before  we  are  aware  of  the  clanger,  will  pre- 
vail againfl:  us,  and  fins  and  lufls  which  for  the 
time  appear  dead,  will  arife  and  put  on  new 
flrength.  It  is  the  hand  of  the  diligent  thai  maketh 
rich,  as  well  in  Religion,  as  in  the  common  affairs 
of  life.  To  grow  in  grace  we  mult  be  aEiive,  we 
mufl:  be  vigilant.  Again,  I  anfwer  in  general,  that 
to  grow  in  grace,  the  believer  mufl  always  remem- 
ber his  total  dependance  for  direction  and  aflift- 
ance  in  every  duty,  upon  the  Lord  Jefus.  Work 
cut,  fays  the  Apoftle,  your  own  f ah  at  ion  with  fear 
and  trembling,  for  it  is  God  that  worketh  in  you  both  to 
will  and  to  do  of  his  own  good  pie afure ,  Exertions  on 
our  part  are  altogether  compatible  with  the  opera- 
tion of  God  in  and  upon  us.  So  far  from  prov- 
ing an  objeclion  againd  falvation  through  grace ; 
this  very  union  of  duty  and  promife,  of  our  efforts 
and  the  divine  aid,  is  a  ftrong  argument  of  its 
truth,  and  recommends  it  as  worthy  of  all  accepta- 
tion. Thefe  very  exertions  prove  that  of  ourfelves 
we  are  infufficient,  and  that  our  life  is  hid  with 
Chrift  in  God,  We  are  not  called  to  this  warfare  in 
ourown  flrength, or  fent  outuponourown  charge. 
Myfon,  fays  Paul  to  Timothy,  be  ftrong  in  the  grace 
that  is  inOmflJcfus, — Without  remembering  this, 
the  Chrillian  will  find  himfclf,  however  well  fur- 
nifhed  in  other  refpedls,  like  David  when  girded 
in  the  armour  of  Saul ;  incumbered  with  weight, 
but  unfit  for  the  combat.     I  cannot  go  voith  thefe^ 


LIVINGSTON.  T39 

faid  the  flrippling  hero  to  the  monarch  ;  and  I 
cannot  go  with  thefe,  will  be  the  reply  of  every 
beHever,  whom  experience  has  taught;  but  I  will 
go  in  the  Jlrength  of  the  Lord  God:  I  will  vmke  men^ 
tion  of  thy  right  coufnefs,  even  of  thine  only. 

But  let  me  fpecify  particulars,  and  enumerate 
fome  of  the  principal  means,  which  are  moft  effi- 
cacious, with  the  divine  blefling,  to  promote  our 
growth  in  grace ; 

Thtfirjl  I  fhall  name  and  recommend  to  you  is, 
a  frequent  meditation  upon  the  once  crucified  but 
now  exalted  Saviour.  This  I  name  firft,  not  only 
becaufe  it  is  a  leading  motive,  but  becaufe  our  A- 
poftle  has  mentioned  it  in  this  very  verfe  before  us, 
as  moft  intimately  connected  w  ith  growth  in  grace. 

In  the  life  of  the  blefled  Jefus,  we  have  the 
brighefl:  difplay  of  the  beauty  of  holinefs.  The 
law  of  the  Lord  was  within  his  heart.  Zeal  for 
his  Father's  glory  like  a  fire  confumed  him.  He 
zvent  about  doing  good.  What  an  example  I  What 
love  to  God  1  What  love  to  man  1  How  holy,  harm- 
lefs,  undefilcdaad  feparate  from  finners  1  How  a- 
miable  religion  appears  in  him;  and  how  indeli- 
ble the  imprefiions  which  a  believing  meditation 
upon  the  life  of  Chrift  muft  make  upon  the  foul  1 
When  Mofes  returned  from  converfing  with  Je- 
hovah in  the  mount,  his  face  flione  ;  and  frequent 
converfc  with  the  holy  Saviour  will  make  believ- 
ers fhinc,  and  Ihcd  a  luftre  upon  all  their  conduct. 
Beholding  his  life  will  change  them  into  the  fame 


I40  LIVINGSTON. 

image,  and  compel  the  world  to  acknowledge  ihd} 
ihey  have  been  with  Jejus, 

But  in  the  death  of  Chrifl,  an  equal  if  not  a 
fuperior  motive,  is  found  to  engage  us  to  fervent 
holinefs.  The  malignant  nature  of  fin  appears  in 
contrafting  it  with  the  law  of  God ;  but  it  is  never 
feen  in  all  its  odious  and  accurfed  colors  fo  clear- 
ly as  when  viewed  in  a  crucified  Saviour.  God 
/pared  not  his  only  Son,  but  delivered  him  up  to  all 
the  demands  of  divine  jufiice,  when  he  made  his 
foul  an  offering  for  fin. — Who  can  remember  the  a- 
gonies  of  Gethfemane,  the  horrors,  pains,  and  con- 
fiidls  of  the  crofs,  and  not  find  an  abhorrence  of 
fin  excited  in  his  foul  ?  Who,  when  meditating  on 
the  fuft'erings  of  the  Redeemer,  can  refrain  from 
exclaiming ;  fiiall  I  cherifii  thofe  lufi:s  which  mur- 
dered my  Saviour ! — fiiall  I  difiionor  God  with  my 
iniquities,  and  renew  that  guilt  which  nothing  lefs 
than  the  precious  blood  of  his  Son  could  expiate! 
By  the  crofs  of  Chrifi:  the  world  is  crucified  unto  mey 
and  I  unto  the  woHdl 

The  whole  chara(5ler  of  the  mediator,  his  glori- 
ous perfon,  his  important  offices,  the  gracious  er- 
rand upon  which  he  came,  the  wonderful  methods 
by  which  he  finifiied  his  work,  and  the  faithful- 
nefs  and  compafiion  which  he  now  exercifes  while 
fcated  on  his  throne,  are  all  calculated,  when  view- 
ed in  faith,  and  frequently  meditated  upon,  to 
confirain  us  henceforth  not  to  live  unto  ourfelvesj^ 
but  unto  him  who  died  for  us,  and  rofe  again.  By 
this  we  fiiall  grow  in  grace. 


LIVINGSTON.  141 

But  another  mean,  and  one  abfokitely  necclTar/ 
lor  growing  in  grace  is,  the  ivord  of  God  ;  the  fre- 
quent reading  oHt  in  fecret,  the  hearing  of  it  ex- 
plained in  public,  and  atteiiding  faithfully  upon 
the  ordinances. — In  the  holy  fcriptures  the  found- 
eft  principles  of  morality  arc  taught,  llriking  ex- 
amples  are  exhibited,  and  the  moil  animating 
fand:ions  of  rewards  and  punifliments  are  produ- 
ced.   All  Jcripiure  is  given  by  inspiration  of  God,  and 
is  profitable  for  dociriney  for  reproof ,  for  correction  and 
for  inftru^ion  in  right eoufnefs.     It  is  through  the 
truth  that  God  fanctifics  his  people.     His  zvord  is 
truth.    But  to  profit  by  the  word,  it  is  necellary  to 
attend  to  its  genuine  meaning  ;  to  view  it  not  on- 
ly in  detached  pafTages,  but  in  its  connection,  and 
thus  endeavor  to  underftand  the  defign  and  fcopc 
of  the  holy  fpirit.     There  are,  however,  fome  im- 
portant texts,  which  are  more  immediately  calcu- 
lated to  dired,  to  warn  and  to  encourage  the  foul 
in  the  pradice  of  holinefs.     Thefe  ought  to  be 
fully  digefted,  laid  up  in  the  memory,  and  by  fre-» 
quent  meditation  rendered  familiar.    The  Empe- 
ror Antonius,  gave  this  Xd^ion  to  himfelf ; — '*  As 
*'  furgeons  always  carry  their  infirumcnts  with 
**  them,  to  be  ready  for  any  fudden  emergency ; 
*'  fo  let  what  you  have  learned  be  prompt,  and 
*'  ready  at  haad,  to  dired  you  in  whatever  relates 
"  to  things  divine  or  human.*"  And  Seneca  relates 
this  fentiment  of  Demetrious  the  Cynic  : — "  It  is 
"  better  to  retain  a  few  precepts  of  wifdom^  and 

*  Lib.  iii.  fbf^.  i;. 


14-2  LIVINGSTON. 

*'  have  them  familiar,  and  ready  for  immediate 
^'  life,  than  to  learn   many  things,  and  after  all, " 
*'  not  be  able   to  produce  them  when  they  arc 
"  needed.*"     If  heathen  philofophers  could  give 
fuchleiibns  refpeding  their  fyftems  of  morality,  and 
if  they  found  fo  much  benefit  by  this  method,  how 
much  more  mud  it  be  our  duty  arid  advantage  to 
draw  water  from  the  pure  fountain,  and  have  al- 
ways fome  texts  of  fcripture  ready  and  applicable 
to  every  duty,  temptation  or  trial.     This  David 
experienced  ;  howfweet  are  thywords  unto  my  iafie  ! 
yea  fzvecter  than  honey   to  my  mouth,     Through  thy 
-precepts  I  get  underftanding ;  therefore  1  hate  every 
falje  way.     Thy  word  is  a  lamp  unto  my  feety  and  a 
light  unto  my  path.  This  the  apoftle  recommends — 
Let  the  word  of  Chrift  dwell  in  you  richly  in  all  zvif-^ 
dom.     And  this  our  Lord  has  taught  by  his  exam- 
ample,  w^hen  he  anfwered  the  tempter — //  is  writ^ 
ten, — 

The  ordinances  of  the  fandluary  are  alfo  pecu- 
liarly calculated  to  promote  growth  in  grace.  It 
is  by  the  fool  iJJjnefs  of  preachings  that  God  enlarges 
the  kingdom  of  his  Son ;  by  this  he  fubdues  fin- 
ners  to  his  obedience,  and  by  this  he  reclaims 
backfiiders,  builds  up  his  people,  and  prepares 
them  for  glory.  The  word  and  facraments  are  the 
green  padures  into  which  he  leads  his  flock  ; — 
there  he  meets  with  them,  and  makes  them  to  reft 
at  noon.  All  therefore  who  dcfirc  to  grow  in  grace, 
muft  be  diligent  in  reading  the  fcriptures,  and  cf- 

*    De  beucficiis  lib.  vii.  cap.  i. 


LIVINGSTON.  143 

teem  it  their  duty  and  privilege  to  attend  the  or- 
dinances ;  for  thefe  are  the  eftablifhed  means  ap- 
pointed of  God,  and  there  he  beftovvs  the  bleiTing. 
A  third  particular  I  mention  as  neceffary  to  pro- 
mote a  growth  in  grace,  is  a  practical  acknow- 
ledgement of  the  neceflity  of  the  conftant  influences 
of  the  holy  fpirit,  -He  dwells  in  his  people  as  in  his 
temples ;  he  is  given  to  them  as  the  fpirit  of  a- 
doption,  to  work  in  them  the  temper  and  confi- 
dence of  children.  He  is  the  comforter  to  lead 
them  into  the  truth,  and  fhine  upon  his  own  work 
in  their  fouls.  But  he  is  efpecially  the  fandlifier^ 
the  creator  of  the  new  heart,  and  the  promoter  of 
holinefs  in  all  his  faints.  Live  then  under  an  ha- 
bitual fenfe  of  your  dependance  upon  his  blelTed 
operations.  Quench  not  the  fpirit.  Grieve  not  the 
holy  fpirit  of  God,  "johereby  you  are  fealed  unto  the  day 
of  redemption.  But  plead  daily  with  the  Plalmift 
— Caft  nie  not  from  thy  prefence,  and  take  not  thy  holy 
fpirit  from  me.  O  fend  out  thy  light  and  thy  truths 
and  let  them  lead  me  ! 

In  conncclion  with  this,  it  is  proper  next  to 
name  prayer,  as  an  efficacious  mean  for  growing* 
in  grace.  Whatever  may  be  faid  of  the  prayer  of 
nature,  it  is  certain  from  fcripture  and  experience, 
that  grace  teaches  a  finncr  to  pray  from  proper 
principles,  and  in  a  right  manner.  The  holy  fpi- 
rit helps  the  infirmities  of  his  people  in  this  im- 
portant duty.  They  arc  made  to  lov.e  prayer. — 
They  delight  in  the  exercife,  becaufe  it  introduces 
them  to  thefellowfinp  of  the  Father  and  his  fon  J(fu:i 


144  LIVINGSTON. 

Chrifi  ;  and  becaufe  it  is  an  eftablifhed  rule  in  the 
dealings  of  God  with  his  children,  that  the  Lord 
will  he  enquired  of  by  the  houje  of  Ifrael,  to  do  for  them 
whatever  he  has  promifed.  Be  much  then  in  this 
duty.  Faint  not ;  hit  in  every  thing  by  prayer  and 
fupplication,  with  thankfgiving,  let  your  requejis  be 
made  known  to  God, 

What  I  ihall  mention  as  a  fifth  mean  for  ob- 
taining growth  in  grace  is,  fclf  examination.  A 
partiality  for  ourfclves,  and  the  deceitfulnefs  of 
our  hearts,  will  prompt  us  to  draw  favorable 
conclufions,  and  determine  we  are  fomething, 
when  perhaps  we  are  nothing.  What  can  be  bet- 
ter calculated  to  prevent  pride,  and  teach  us  our 
true  charad:er,  than  a  frequent  and  accurate  ex- 
amination of  ourfclves  ?  By  this  we  may  learn 
whether  we  grow  or  not ;  whether  we  increafe  in 
the  knowledge  of  God  our  faviour,  love  him  more, 
and  ferve  him  better,  than  we  formerly  did.  Hea- 
then moralifls  have  been  exemplary  in  this  duty. 
It  was  an  obfervation  of  Seneca,  "  that  every  day 
'^  the  foul  fhould  be  called  to  render  an  account  to 
*'  itfelf.  Sextius,"  fays  he,  "  did  this.  At  the 
*^*  clofe  of  every  day,  before  he  retired  to  reft,  he 
*'  interrogated  his  foul— which  of  your  lufts  have 
'^  you  conquered  this  day  ?  What  vice  have  you 
'^  redded  ?  In  what  refped:  are  you  better  than 
"  you  were  ?  Can  there,"  fays  the  moralill",  "  be  a- 
*'  ny  thing  more  excellent  than  thus  to  conclude 
"  the  day  ?  How  peaceable,  how  exalted,  how  free 
**  one  feels,  v/hen  his  foul  is  cither  commended  cr 


L  I  V  I  N  G  S  T  O  N»  t^s 

""  admoniflicd,  and,  as  a  watchman  and  fecret  cen- 
'*  for,  is  confcious  of  its  own  condudl."* — Shall 
men  under  the  influence  of  natural  religion  fpeak 
and  ad:  thu*o  ?  And  will  not  Chriftians,  who  are 
taught  by  a  divine  revelation,  and  fcek  for  glory, 
and  honor,  and  immortality,  under  the  fure  guid- 
ance of  the  Captain  of  their  falvation,  be  equally 
attentive  to  their  conduct  ?  Shall  heathen  be 
watchmen  and  cenfors,  and  will  not  believers  ex- 
amine themfclvcs  ?  Go,  my  brethren^  and  do  like- 
wife  ;  do  more  than  they  did,  and  daily  fearch  into 
your  principles  as  well  as  condud:,  if  ever  you  ex- 
pedt  to  grow  in  grace. 

I  might  add  many  other  excellent  and  approved 
duties  which  are  immediately  connected  with 
growth  in  grace;  but  I  have  already  mentioned  as 
much  as  your  attention  and  patience  will  bear.— 
I  fliall  therefore  only  add,  by  barely  naming  them, 
a  frequent  renewal  of  your  covenant  with  God  in 
Chrift; — a  chearful  bearing  of  reproof; — and  an 
attentive  obfervation  of  the  providence  of  God, 

Thefe,  all  thefe  hi  their  proper  time  and  order, 
are  the  means  bell:  calculated  to  promote  growth 
in  grace.  And  if  thefe  things  he  in  you  and  abound, 
they  make  you  y  that  yejhall  neither  be  barren  nofun-^ 
fruitful  in  the  knowledge  of  cur  Lordjefus  Qirtft.  If 
ye  do  thefe  things  ye  Jh  all  never  fail ;  forfo  an  entrance 
Jhall  be  minijiered  unto  you  abundantly  into  the  ever^ 
I ajling  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jcfus  Chtifi, 

,    "  Seneca,  lib.  iii.-  de  Ira,  cap.  36. 


146  LIVINGSTON: 

My  brethren,  you  have  feen  Wherein  growth  in 
grace  confifts,  and  what  it  impUes  :  you  have  alfo 
i\ien  the  means  appointed  of  God,  and  the  necef- 
fity  of  improving  thefe  means  for  obtaining  that 
invaluable  blefTmg.  The  whole  is  practical,  and 
many  have  doubclefs  applied  the  truths  to  their 
own  fouls  as  I  proceeded.  Something,  however, 
mufl  be  added,  to  direcl:  to  the  improvement 
which  all  ought  to  make  of  this  important  fubjedl. 
From  what  you  have  heard  then,  learn, 

FirJ?,  that  true  religion  is  a  real  and  ineff'imabic 
acquifition.  It  is  not  a  fidlion  : — It  is  not  bigot- 
ry, fuperftition,  or  a  devifed  fable : — It  is  not  the 
ftiark  of  a  mean,  but  of  a  great  mind ; — It  is  wif- 
dom  in  the  underllanding,  and  redlitude  in  the 
will  and  afFed:ions.  The  man  who  is  truly  religi- 
ous, is  born  again.  He  is  brought  out  of  darknefs 
into  marvellous  light.  The  principle  of  holinefs 
is  implanted  in  his  foul,  and,  like  the  returning 
prodigal,  he  comes  home  to  his  father.  How 
great  a  change  1  What  an  unfpeakable  bleiTing  ! 
It  is  worthy  of  God  to  give,  and  ought  to  be  the 
higheft  objedl  of  our  defires  to  receive.  Without 
this,  it  is  impolTible  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  oj  God, 
or  experience  the  exercifes  and  confolations  of  his 
people. — Religion  is  profitable  with  refpecl  to  the 
life  that  nozv  is,  as  well  as  of  that  which  is  to  come. 
It  prompts  to  a  zealous  difcharge  of  every  duty; 
and,  in  a  moral  view,  it  renders  a  pcrfon  greatly 
fupcrior  to  what  he  was  before  his  converfion. — 
Religion  forms  a  better  parent  or  child  s  a  better 


LIVINGSTON.        .      147 

m.igiflrate  or  fubjcd; ;  a  better  mafler  or  fervant ; 
and  a  better  friend  and  member  of  focicty,  than, 
without  it,  can  pollibly  be  formed.  It  fupprefles 
the  bafer  pafTions,  fuggefts  the  noblefl  viev/s,  and 
animates  the  foul  to  be  rich  in  good  works.  No 
principles  ever  known  among  men,  are  fo  effica- 
cious in  promoting  holinefs,  and  none  actually  a- 
bound  in  good  works  fo  much  as  thofe,  who  feel 
the  conftraining  influence  of  the  doctrines  of 
grace. 

Let  the  enemies  of  revelation,  let  the  fcofters, 
therefore,  learn  to  think  and  fpeakwith  reverence 
of  what  bears  the  flamp  of  divinity,  and  is  fo  ef- 
fential  even  to  the  good  of  fociety.  They  are  en- 
emies to  mankind  as  well  as  to  God,  who  ridicule 
facred  things,  and  oppofe  the  progrefs  of  the  gof- 
pel.  You,  who  are  of  this  clafs,  may  glory  in  your 
growing  numbers,  and  by  your  fophiftry  and  im*- 
pudeace  expect  to  drive  religion  from  the  field  ; 
but  know,  that  it  is  fupported  from  on  high  ;  it 
has  triumphed  over  much  more  formidable  antag- 
onifts,  and  will  live  and  grow  againfl"  all  the  op- 
pofition  of  the  gates  of  hell.  And  with  refpedl  to 
yourfelves,  be  allured,  that  however  much  you 
may  be  eftccmed  on  other  accounts,  yet  as  infidels 
and  fcoffers,  you  are  pitied  and  defpifed  by  the 
wife  and  good.  And  know  alfo  of  a  certainty, 
that  if  you  perfcvcre  and  die  in  the  fame  mind  you 
Dow  are,  you  will  be  forever  (liut  out  from  the 
prefence  of  that  God  whom  you  never  loved,  and 
f^om  thofe  blcfnngs  v/hich  you  never  reliflied,  nor 


14^  LIVINGSTON. 

fought.  But  Hiould  convidions  of  fin  and  guilt 
ever  arife  in  your  heart,  you  will  then  find  that  the 
religion  of  nature  is  not  fufficient  for  your  falva- 
tion.  It  may  teach  you  fomethmg  of  your  mife- 
ry,  but  it  is  from  the  gofpel,  that  very  gofpel 
•which  you  now  affed  to  defpife,  you  can  alone 
Jcarn  what  you  vmji  do  to  bejaved. 

As  to  you  who  profefs  the  religion  of  Chrifl, 
and  receive  the  Bible  as  the  ilandard  of  your  faith 
and  pradicCj  what  conclufion  do  you  draw  from 
the  fubjed:  you  have  heard  ?  Will  mere  orthodoxy 
jn  dodrines  ;  w  ill  regularity  in  your  condud,  or 
punduality  in  worfhip,  render  you  truly  religious? 
Will  thefe  produce  pardon  for  your  finSj  or  make 
you  meet  for  glory  ?  Alas  !  in  all  thefe  you  may 
abound,  and  yet  have  no  love  to  God,  or  lincere 
fubmiflion  to  the  Lord  Jefus.  To  conliitute  vital 
piety,  and  make  you  a  real  difciple  of  the  Redeem- 
er, you  muft  obtain  a  new  heart,  and  by  faith  be- 
come united  to  Chrill. 

Shall  I  alarm  your  fears  by  appealing  to  the  ter- 
rors of  the  law  ?  Shall  I  arraign  your  confciences 
at  the  dread  tribunal  of  your  Judge?  Shall  Ire- 
mind  you  that  you  have  to  do  with  the  livingGod, 
who  is,  out  of  Chrifl,  a  cotifuming  fire  P  Shall  I  re- 
peat, that  without  holinefs  no  man  c^n/tr  God  F  I 
Y'ill  rather  at  prefent  plead  w  ith  you,  and,  as  a 
hurnble  fuppliant,  befeech  you  to  be  reconciled  to 
God.  What  will  it  avail  to  have  a  name  to  live^, 
jf  yet  you  are  dead  ?  To  toil   through  dutics/and 


LIVINGSTON.  149 

profcfs  religion,  without  feeling  its  power,  orfbiar- 
ing  in  its  comforts  ?  What  will  you  be  profited, 
if  you  gain  the  whole  world,  an:d  lofe  your  own 
fouls  ?  Will  riches,  fame  or  wifdom,  will  pleafure, 
or  any  other  acquintion,  ultimately  be'nefit  you,  if 
God  is  not  your  father,  if  Jefus  is  not  your  faviour, 
and  you  have  not  the  fpirit  of  Chrifl  ?  This  is  the 
one  thing  needful — Seek  fird  the  kingdom  of  God 
and  his  righteoufnefs,  and  all  necelTary  blcflings 
will  be  added  unto  you.  O  that  you  may  hear 
the  voice  of  love,  which  invites  the  zveary  and 
heavy  laden  to  come  ;  which  repeats  the  call  to  all 
who  zvilly  and  declares  that  he  who  cometh,  Jhall 
in  no  wife  he  caft  out.  Come  in  all  your  guilt  and 
imworthinefs,  and  reft  not  until  you  have  obtained 
repentance  and  faith,  from  the  exalted  Saviour. 
Both  are  his  gift,  and  you  lie  at  his  mercy.  This 
is  )our  firft  ftcp  ;  this  you  mud  experience  before 
you  can  grow  in  grace. 

Are  there  any  prefent  who  are  b!e(Iing  them- 
felves  with  the  remembrance  of  fome  former  con- 
victions, and  reft  in  thefe  as  fufficient  and  com- 
plete ?  Our  prefent  fubjed:  brings  a  meiTage  to 
fuch.  If  you  are  contented  with  your  pail  ex- 
periences, if  you  can  ftt  down  fatisfied  becaule 
you  have  joined  with  others  in  woriliip,  when 
perhaps  there  was  a  revival  of  religion,  if  you  are 
not  troubled  with  your  own  wicked  heart,  and 
have  no  deftre  for  improving  in  holincfs,  you  have 
reafon  to  be  alarmed.  The  text  adminiftcrs  no 
immediate  comfgrt  to  you.    Inftcad  of  telling  you 


ISO  L  I  V  I  N  G  S  .T  O  N. 

to  grow  in  grace,  I  mufl:  in  faithfulnefs  declare  t» 
you,  that  there  is  reafon  to  fear  you  have  never  had 
grace.  Your  work  has  not  been  in  truth. — You 
have  refted  Ihort  of  Chrift. — You  are  yet  in  your 
lins.— O  perilh  not  at  the  threfhold  1  Let  not  the 
charadlerof  an  almod  Chridian  fatisfy  you  ;  but 
look  unto  Jefus. — Attend  to  the  firft  works  fpce- 
dily,  that  Chrift:  may  give  you  life. 

But  Jecondly^  we  have  feen  that  wherever  grace 
is. implanted  in  the  foul  it  becomes  an  adlive  prin- 
ciple, it  grows,  it  is  a  fountain  of  living  water 
fpringing  up  into  everladi ng  life.  Let  all  then, 
who  have  obtained  the  unfpeakable  happinefs  and 
honor  of  believing  in  Chrifl,  adopt  the  language 
and  fentiment  of  Paul.  Not  as  though  I  had  alrea- 
dy attained,  either  were  already  perfect :  but  1  follow 
ifter^  if  that  I  may  apprehend  that  for  which  alfo  I  am 
apprehended  of  Chrijl  Jefus.  I  count  not  myfelf  to. 
have  apprehended,  but  this  one  thing  I  do,  forgetting 
thofe  things  which  are  behind,  and  reaching  forth  to 
ihofe  things  which  are  before,  I prefs  towards  the  mark 
for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Chrift  Jefus, 
Have  you  received  Chrift  Jefus  as  your  Lord  and 
Redeemer,  then  v/alk  in  him.  Put  on  the  whole 
armour  of  God,  ^nd  learn  to  fight  the  good  fight  of' 
faith.  Give  all  diligence  to  make  your  caHing  and 
eledion  fure.  Lay  afide  every  weight,  and  the  fm 
which  doth  fo  eafily  befet  you,  and  run  with  pati-- 
ence  the  race  that  isfet  before  you.  Look  unto  Jefus, 
and  fo  run  that  ye  may  obtain.  So  run,  riot  as  un-^ 
certainly,  fo  fight,  not  as  one  that  beateth  the  air^^ 


LIVINGSTON,  151 

Strive  to  prefcrve  the  cleared  evidences  of  your  juf- 
tification,  and  confcientioufly  improve  your  ta- 
lents, for  to  him  that  hathjhail  be  given.  Remem- 
ber, that  to  glorify  God  by  a  humble  and  holy 
walk ;  to  promote  the  intcrcfis  of  the  Redeemer's 
kingdom  ;  to  do  good  to  others,  and  fulfil  all  the 
duties  of  your  refpedive  Nations,  are  the  worthy 
objecb  which  grace  infpires.  In  performing  thefe 
you  fliine  as  lights  in  the  world,  you  glorify  your 
heavenly  Father,  and  mofb  eiTeclually  work  out 
your  own  falvation.  To  thefe  you  are  called,  and 
thefe  as  you  grow  in  grace,  will  become  more  and 
more  habitual,  pleafant  and  eafy.  Be  not  fatisii- 
ed,  O  believer  1  with  your  paft  attainments  ;  the 
half  has  not  been  told  you  of  the  comforts  of  reli- 
gion, of  communion  with  God,  and  of  the  mani- 
feftations  of  Chrifl:  to  the  fouls  of  his  people.  Be  not 
contented  with  your  former  exertions  in  the  fervice 
of  your  Lord  ;  the  half  has  not  been  done  of  what 
you  ought  to  do,  or  what  through  grace  you  can 
perform.  Look  at  fome  of  your  brethren  who 
have  felt  the  conftraining  power  of  his  love,  and 
fee  what  they  have  done,  and  fuffered  for  their 
blefled  mailer.  What  zeal !  What  felf-denial ! 
What  animated  woriliip  I  What  fervent  love! 
What  laborious  efforts  to  promote  the  glory  of 
God,  and  bear  a  teftimony  againfl:  the  prevailing 
(ins  of  their  day  and-  generation,  have  character- 
ized many  in  the  church  of  Chrifl: ! — Go  believer! 
go,  and  endeavour  to  imitate  them.  As  long  as 
lik  and  breath  remain^  let  all  be  devoted  to  the 


152  LIVINGS  TON. 

fcrvice  of  your  exalted  Saviour.  And  while  grati- 
tude unites  with  faith  and  love,  you  will  never 
judge  you  have  done  too  much  for  him,  who  died 
for  you. — In  choice  and  in  affeClions  you  have  left 
all  for  Jefus,  and  have  openly  affociated  with  the 
people  of  God  :  you  delight  in  their  company  and 
are  not  alhamed  of  Chrift. — Perhaps  fome  of  us 
prefent  have  dedicated  our  whole  lives  to  his  im- 
mediate fervice  in  the  gofpel,  and  given  up  all  the 
flattering  profpeds  of  wealth  and  preferment  in  the 
world  for  his  fake.  But  we  have  none  of  us  fuf- 
fered  perfecution,  or  yet  rcfifted  unto  blood.  We 
have  none  of  us  endured  what  many  of  his  dear 
children  have  frequently  fuftained.  "  As  for  us," 
fays  JulHn  Marryr,  fpeaking  of  the  Chriflians  of  his 
day,  "As  for  us  that  have  entertained  the  religion 
of  the  holy  Jefus,  yourfelves  know  very  well,  that 
there  is  nothino:  throuo^hout  the  world  that  is  able 
to  fubdue  or  affright  us  out  of  our  profeflion.  No- 
thing is  more  evident  than  though  our  heads  be 
expofed  to  fwords  and  axes,  our  bodies  faftened  to 
the  crofs  ;  though  thrown  to  wild  beads,  and  har- 
railed  out  with  chains,  fire,  and  all  other  inflru- 
ments  of  torment,  yet  do  we  not  depart  from  our 
profeflion.  Nay  the  more  thefe  things  happen  to 
us,  the  falkr  do  others  flock  over  to  the  name  of 
Jefus,  and  become  pious  and  devout  followers  of 
Chrifl."  ''Amongfl:  us,"  fays  Cyprian,  "there 
flourifhes  ftrength  of  hope,  firmnefs  of  faith,  a 
mind  erecl  amidfl:  the  ruins  of  a  tottering  age,  an 
immovable  virtue,  a  patience  ferene  and  chearful. 


LIVINGSTON.  153 

and  a  foul  always  fecure  and  certain  of  its  God." 
Inftead  of  producing  particular  inftances  in  which 
thefe  declarations  were  abundantly  verified;  let 
me  only  repeat  the  noble  anfwer  which  the  cele- 
brated old  Polycarp  made  before  the  tribunal  of 
the  ProconfuL  "  Thefe  fourfcore  and  fix  years 
have  I  ferved  Chrifl,  and  he  never  did  mc  any 
harm,  and  how  then  can  I  blafpheme  my  mafter 
and  my  Saviour!" — In  this  manner  Chriftians  for* 
merly  fpoke  and  adled  ;  and  while  the  fame  Savi- 
our, the  fame  relation  and  grace  remain,  an  obli- 
gation continues  for  the  fame  fentimcnts,  and  a 
fimilar  boldnefs  and  zeal. 

Are  any  of  you,  while  I  am  fpeaking,  confcious 
of  having  proved  falfe  to  your  vows,  and  fland 
chargeable  with  backfliding  inftead  of  growing  in 
grace  ?  Alas,  my  brethren  1  you  have  robbed  your 
fouls  of  many  comforts ;  you  have  brought  re- 
proach upon  the  holy  religion  you  profefs,  and  it 
is  an  unfpeakable  mercy  if  you  have  been  kept 
back  from  prcfumptmus  finSy  and  not  given  occafion 
io  the  enemies  of  the  Lord  to  blajpheme.  But  hear 
with  gratitude  and  aftonifhment,  ye  backflidcrs  ! 
The  exhortation  to  grow  in  grace  is  addrefled  alfo 
to  you.  The  unchangeable  Jefus  is  waiting  to 
reftore  you.  He  is  Jehovah  Rophi,  the  Lord  that 
healeth  thee.  And  his  language  to  you  this  day 
is,  return  ye  backfliding  children  and  I  will  heal  your 
hackflidings.  O  let  it  be  the  language  of  your  fouls, 
we  come  unto  thee  companionate  Saviour !  If'e 
come  unto  thee  for  thm  art  the  Lord  our  God  I  To  re- 

T 


ij4  LIVINGSTON. 

turn  is  your  firfl  flep  towards  growth  in  grace. 

ReynembeVy  therefore ,  from  whence  ihou  art  fallen  and. 
repent y  and  do  the  frfi  works.  To  yourfclves  take 
all  the  (hame  and  guilt,  and  let  none  prefume  to 
make  God  the  author  of  their  fin.  Let  no  man  fay 
when  he  is  tempted,  lam  tempted  of  God.  God  for- 
bid !  Tou  have  not  fo  learned  Chrijh  You  are  con- 
vinced that  every  man  is  tempted  when  he  is  drawn 
away  of  his  own  lufis  andenticedy  and  then,  when  luji 
hath  conceivedy  it  bringelh  forth  fin.  Be  deeply  hum- 
bled, and  confefs  your  fins  to  him,  who  has  de- 
clared that  he  is  faithful  and  jufl  to  forgive  us  our 
fins.  Though  a  fenfc  of  guilt  may  prompt  you  to 
lay,  I  am  caft  out  of  thy  fight y  yet  look,  my  breth- 
ren, look  again  to  his  holy  temple.  Look  in*  faith  to 
Jefus,  and  you  will  find,  he  is  the  propitiation  for 
cur  fins.  May  the  blood  of  Chrifl,  who  through 
the  eternal  fpirit,  offered  himfelf  without  Ipot  to 
God,  purge  your  confcience  from  dead  works y  toferve 
the  living  God  ! 

But  there  are  many  of  the  children  of  God, 
whofe  fouls  arc  cafl  down  from  a  failure  of  thofc 
vigorous  exercifes  which  they  once  had ;  and  who, 
notwithflanding  they  cannot  charge  themfelves 
with  any  pofitive  backflidings,  are  yet  often  crying 
out,  O  that  it  was  with  me  as  in  days  pafll  Will  the 
Lord  caft  off  for  every  will  he  he  favorable  no  morel  Yc 
tofTed  as  with  a  tcmpcR,  remember  that  this  is 
your  infirmity  !  The  exercifes  of  his  people  are  not 
always  of  the  fame  kind.  Believers  pafs  through 
various  fcafons.      They  are  not  forever  on  the 


L  I'^  I  N  G  S  T  ON-  isi 

mount  rejoicing  in  the  Lord,  but  often  defcend 
into  the  valley  of  afflidlion  and  trouble-  They  Jink 
fometimcs  m  deep  mtre  where  there  is  no  fianding, 
and  find  themfelves  in  a  lituation  which  may  be 
compared  to  a  horrible  pity  and  miry  clay.  .Be  not 
therefore,  my  brethren,  diflieartened.  Thefe  are 
the  footfteps  of  the  flock.  Who  then  is  among  ymt, 
that  fearelh  the  Lord;  that  oheyeth  the  voice  of  his 
fervanty  that  walketh  in  darknefs  and  hath  no  light  ?■ 
Let  hivi  truft  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  flay  upon 
his  God. 

But  darknefs  and  want  of  former  comforts  is 
not  the  only  cafe  muft  here  be  attended  to.     A 
humbling  fenfeof  indwelling  fm,  of  fmail  progrefs 
in  holinefs  and  continued  barrennefs  often  difcour- 
age  the  faints.     They  fee  others,  who  perhaps  be- 
gan in  the  fervice  of  Chrift,  much  later  than  them.- 
felves,  advancing  far  beyond  them  in  knowledge, 
zeal  and  love.  Upon  the  Itridteft  examination  they 
appear  to  themfelves,  not  only  defective  in  growth, 
but  even  worfe   than  they  were  at  firft.     To  thefe, 
and  to  iimilar  complaints  we  anfwer,  the  Lord  i? 
fovereign  in  his  difpcnfations.     But  after  all,  the 
judgment  you  form  of  your  felves  may  probably 
not  be  jud.     Is  not  the  depravity  which  you  dif- 
cover  in  your  own  heart ;  is  not  a  view  of  your  de- 
ficiency in  love  and  zeal,  over  which  you  mourn, 
a  proof  of  more  light  and  of  enlarged  experience  ? 
Do  not  thefe  tend  to  humble  you  and  render  the 
blelTed  Jcfus,  in  all  his  offices,  more  precious  ?  And 
is  not  this  a  growth  in  grace?  Forget  not,  O  be- 


15^  LIVINGSTON. 

liever !  that  you  muft  decrcafc  and  Chrift  muft  in- 
Creafc ;  and  be  perfuaded,  that  by  thefe  very  me- 
thods, of  which  you  complain,  he  is  emptying 
you  of  pride  and  remaining  confidence  in  your 
own  righteoufnefs,  and  thus  making  room  for  his 
becoming  all  and  in  ail  to  your  fouls.  It  is  thus 
be  leads  the  blind  by  a  way  they  know  not,  and  in  paths 
that  they  have  yjot  hiown.  Fear  not.  Let  faith 
and  patience  have  their  perfedl  work  ;  and  conti- 
nue to  wait  upon  the  Lord  and  you  fhall  renew 
your  ftrength. 

Let  thofe  who  arc  young  difciples  become  ani- 
mated with  the  exalted  profpects  which  the  fcr- 
vice  of  the  Redeemer  opens  to  their  view.  Be 
alTured  that  faith fulnefs  to  God  will  bring  its  pre-^ 
fent  reward,  befides  the  glory  which  remains  in  re- 
verfion.  Remember  your  relation  is  now  chang- 
ed, and  you  are  no  longer  your  own.  You  counts 
cd  the  coft  when  you  gave  yourfelves  away  ta 
Chriil,  and  you  are  not  to  look  back.  Serve  the 
Lord,  then,  with  full  purpofe  of  heart.  Flee  youth- 
ful lulls,  and  allort  with  themy  that  call  on  the  Lord 
out  of  a  pure  heart.  In  every  trial,  in  all  your  temp- 
tations look  unro  Jefus.  Be  not  difcouraged,  he 
is-faithful,  he  will  eftabliih  you  and  keep  you  from 
evil.  Little  children,  fays  the  Apoflle  John,  Iwrite 
unto  you  be  cauje  your  fins  are  forgiven  you  for  his  name*s 
fake.  And  furely  they,  to  whom  much  is  forgiven, 
will  love  much.  Indulge  this  love  and  prove  it> 
young  Chriftians,  by  keeping  all  his  command- 
ments.    Grow  in  grace. 


LIVINGSTON.  157 

And  now,  believers,  while  we  excite  you  all  to 
grow  in  grace,  you  cannot  fail,  in  proportion  as 
you  undcdVand  the  exhortation,  to  mourn  before 
God  that  this  is  fo  little  attended  to,  in  our  6^y. 
Cherifti  this   generous   forrow,  and  let  it  deeply 
affed  your  hearts,  that  fuch  faint  traces  of  holinefs. 
are  difcernable  in  the  vifible  church  :    that  fo 
many  deceive  themfelves  and  difhonor  Chrifl:,  by 
'  profclFing  his  religion,  while  their  lives  and  con- 
duct announce  them  to  be  baptized  infidels.   But 
let  it  mod  afFccl  you,  that  many,  even  of  the  chil- 
dren of  Zion,  appear  to  have  departed  from  that 
flridnefs  in  piety  and  confcientious  holinefs,  which 
always  ought  to  characterize  real  believers.    Alas, 
how  is  the  gold  changed^  and  the  fine  gold  become  dim  ! 

Let  all,  who  love  the  Lord  Jefus  in  fincerity,  of- 
ten unite  in  prayer  for  a  revival  of  religion,  and 
plead  fervently  for  the  outpouring  of  his  fpirit. 
We  have  been  witneiTes  to  the  wonderful  interpo- 
litions  of  Providence  in  the  progrcfs  and  ilfuc  of 
the  late  war,  and  the  national  bledings  in  which  we 
are  now  eftablillied.  ^he  Lord  hath  done  great 
things  for  us y  whereof  we  ar'e  glad.  We  now  waic 
for  his  falvation  to  Zion  ;  for  a  day  of  power  in  his 
churches,  when  he  fliall  bear  witnefs  to  his  own 
truths,  and  numerous  converts  fubmit  to  the  Re- 
deemer. Pray  much  for  this.  Your  fervent  in- 
terceflions  will  be  a  happy  token,  that  the  time  to 
favor  ZioUyjea  the  fet  time  is  come.  Pray  for  mini- 
iiers  and  people,  that  they  may  feek  the  glory  of 
God  and  not  their  own  honor  \  and  that  all  may 


iS8  LI  V  I  N  G  S  TO  N. 

unite  by  holinefs  and  growth  in  grace,  to  reconrr- 
mend  the  religion  of  Jefus. — But  whatever  cloud 
may  be  dill  impending  over  Zion,  and  whatever 
may  be  the  coniequences  of  the  fpirit  of  diflipa- 
tion,  error  and  mfidelity  which  has  gone  forth  ;  be 
ye,  believers,  faithful,  and  your  fouls  will  be  given 
you  for  a  prey,  God  will  prefcrve  and  ftrengthen 
you,  and  he  which  haih  hegim  a  good  work  in  you,  will. 
perform  it  until  the  day  of  Jfus  Chriji, 

You  are  under  indifpenfable  obligations  to  for- 
fake  all  lin  and  glorify  God,  not  only  as  his  crea- 
tures, but  efpecially  as  his  children  who  are  creat- 
ed anew  in  Chrift  Jefus.  Often  meditate  upoa 
thefe  obligations,  and  remember  that  ye  are  not 
your  ozvn,  for  ye  are  bought  with  a  price  y  and  there^ 
fore  whatever  others  may  do,  ye  are  to  glorify  God  im 
your  body  and  in  your  fpirit  which  are  God's. 

Strive  to  obtain  clear  apprchenfions  of  growth 
in  grace,  that  you  may  determine  with  precifion» 
wherein  it  confifls  Dcfpife  not  the  day  of  fmall 
things.  It  is  by  little  and  little  the  enemy  fnall 
be  driven  out  before  you.  Through  many  fal- 
lings and  rifings,  changes  and  vicifTitudes,  your 
progrefs  lies.  By  many  fad  experiences  you  will 
know  that  your  lufts  are  not  yet  all  deftroyed ; 
but  by  many  comforting  evidences  you  will  afiu- 
rcdly  find  the  promifed  aid  of  the  fpirit,  and  the 
power  of  Chnft  in  promoting  your  growth  in 
grace. — Be  afraid  of  fin  and  of  temptations,  but 
be  not  afraid  of  the  crofs.     Trials  and  affli<ftions 


LIVINGSTON.  159 

prove  no  impediment  to  fandification.  When 
fufferings  produce  proper  exercifes,  they  yield  the 
peaceable  fruits  of  righteoufnefs  ;  they  make  us 
fenfible  of  our  weaknefs ;  they  imbitter  fin,  and 
lefTen  that  attachment  to  the  world  which  mars 
our  progrefs  and  hinders  our  growth  in  grace.  Be 
then  of  a  good  courage  and  go  in  the  ftrength  of 
the  Lord.  Your  falvation  is  Jiearer  than  when  you 
believed y  and  you  may,  in  humble  hope,  look  for- 
ward to  your  everlafting  home,  which  is  full  in 
view :  for  yet  a  little  while,  and  he  that  fhall  come, 
will  come,  and  will  not  tarry.  And  now  the  God 
of  peace  that  brought  again  from  the  dead  our  Lord 
JefuSy  that  great  fhepherd  of  the  Jheepy  through  the 
blood  of  the  everlajling  covenant y  make  you  perfe5l  in 
every  good  work  to  do  his  willy  working  in  you  that 
which  is  well  pleafing  in  his  fight y  through  Jefus  Chrijf, 
to  whom  be  glory  for  ever  and  ever.     Amen» 


W^ 


# 


L-iLW-i..'  ■^■rx.4»Jft^ 


SERMON     IX. 

A  STANDING  Revelation,  once  attested,  the  hejt 
Evidence  of  a  future  Life^ 

B    Y 

JAMES     DANA,    D.  D. 

?aftor  of  the  firfl  Congregational  Church  at  Ne  w- Haven,  Conne(5licut» 


vtmtmnrr 


/^' 


Luke    xvi.    31. 

' If  they  hear  not  Mofes  and  the  prophets,  neitheY 

unii  they  be  perjuaded^  though  one  roje  from  the 
dead* 

nr^HESE  words  conclude  the  parable  of  th^ 
^     rich  man  and  Lazarus.    The  former,  amidft 
an  outward  fulnefs,  is  fuppofed  to  have  lived  re- 
gardlefs  of  future  retributions.     The  latter^  in  the 
depths  of  poverty  and  diftrefs,  was  mindful  of  the 
reference,  which  the  prefent  life  hath  to  an  aft^c 
one.  Wretched  as  Mfcternal  circumfiances  were, 
he  found  refuge  in  tnc  principles  of  I'^vealed  reli- 
gion.   The  change,  which  death  made  in  the  ilatc 
of  thefe  oppofite  charadcrs,  was  great.     One  re- 
ceived all  his  good  things,  the  other  all  his  evil 
things,  in  this  life.     When  death  clofcd  the  fcene^ 
ihe  former  was  tormented^  and  the  latter  comfor;** 

U 


x62  DANA. 

ed.  He,  who  experienced  the  fad  confequence  of 
irreligion,  and  affured  that  there  was  no  redemp- 
tion out  of  hell,  earneftly  folicited  that  a  mefllin- 
ger  might  be  fent  from  the  invifible  world,  to  his 
kindred  on  earth.  They  w^erc  as  thoughtlefs  of 
futurity  as  he  had  been.  And  he  prefumed,  that 
fuch  a  melTenger  as  he  requefted,  warning  them 
of  the  ilFue  of  their  living  in  pleafures,  and  dwel- 
ling carelefsly,  might  be  inftrumental  to  fave  them 
from  the  torments  he  felt.  To  this  requeft  he  re- 
ceived for  anfwer,  They  have  Mqfes  and  the-fto^ 
phetsj  let  them  hear  them.  He  moft  importunate- 
ly renewed  the  requeft  :  Nay, — hut  if  one  went  un^ 
to  them  from  the  dead,  they  zvill  repent.  The  final 
anfwer  is  in  the  w^ords  of  the  text :  If  they  hear  not 
Mofes  and  the  prophets,  neither  will  they  he  perfiiaded, 
though  one  r of e  from  the  dead. 

If  what  is  here  faid  of  the  evidence  of  religion, 
from  Mofes  and  the  prophets,  be  juft,  much  more 
may  the  fame  be  faid  of  the  evidence  which  Chrif- 
tianity  furnifheth. 

Two  proportions  will  come  under  our  conflder- 
ation. 

Firft,  a  ftanding  reveIati|||L  once  properly  con- 
firmed, is  fufficient  to  airu«Ptien  of  future  retri- 
butions, and  lead  them  to  repentance. 

Secondly,  there  is  no  probability  that  thofe,  who 
>vithftand  this  evidence,  would  be  perfuaded  by 
the  propofed  method,  of  one  coming  to  thenx 


DANA.  i6j 

from  the  other  world, — one,  whom  they  once  well 
knew  on  earth. 

Firji,  2L  (landing  revelation,  once  properly  con-^  . 
firmed,  is  fufficient  to  alTure  men  of  future  retri- 
butions, and  lead  them  to  repentance. 

The  knowledge  of  futurity  belongs  to  God.  If 
he  hath  borne  tedimony  to  the  do(!lrine  of  a  fu- 
ture life,  by  fettinghis  feal  to  the  fcriptures  which 
declare  it,  this  fliould  fatisfy  us.  We  receive  the^ 
tcftimony  of  men  to  things  which  we  have  not 
feen  nor  known.  Is  not  the  witnefs  of  God 
greater  ? 

Bkjfed  are  they  who  have  not  feen,  and  yet  have  he^ 
lieved,  A  fceptic  cannot  receive  this :  He  be- 
lieves not  the  things  which  he  fees  :  Demonftra- 
tion,  and  teflimony,  are  alike  difregarded.  But 
let  us  confider  this  declaration  in  the  inflance  to 
■which  it  immediately  relates,  the  reJurreBion  ofje- 
Jus,  This,  if  it  really  happened,  is  allowed  to  be 
a  miracle.  It  is,  however,  urged,  that  a  miracle 
is  '*  a  facl  of  fuch  a  nature,  as  no  human  teflimo- 
ny can  fupport."  'Though  we  may,  and  mufl 
believe,  in  other  cafes,  without  feeing ;  yet  in  this 
we  may  not.'  Tjj^fcquiry  then  is,  whether  a 
miracle,  the  rcfu^Rxion  of  Jefus  in  particular,, 
may  be  believed  on  teflimony  ? 

To  enforce  his  requcft  for  his  brethren,  the  rich' 
man  ufeth  this  argument ;  If  one  Z!^ent  unto  them  from 
the  deady  they  will  recent.     This  fuppofcth  the  pof-- 


1^4  DAN    A. 

fihiliiy  of  a  revelation^  and  the  confinmiion  af.\t,  b>^ 
miracle.     The  fame  is  fuppofed,  in  the  declara- 
tion of  the  doubting  difciple:  Except  I  Jkall  fee 
in  bis  hands  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  tbruft  jny  handi 
into  hisjide,  I  will  not  believe.     To  qualify  him  for 
the    office  of  an  Apoflle,   it  was  neceilary  that. 
Thomas  fhould  fee  Jefus,  after  he  rofe  from  the- 
dead.     He  could  not  otherwife  have  preached  the 
refurredion,  as  a  fad",  of  which  he  was  a  w  itnefs  i 
But  the  teftimony  of  the  other  Apoftles  was  fuffi- 
CJent  for  his  own  convidion.     For  if  they  were 
competent  judges,  whether  their  mafl:cr  was  rifen, 
they  were  alfo  r^;;?/)^/^/;/  wi tneffes  ci  ihh  id^S:.  We 
vill,  jirjf,  enquire   whether  they  were    competent 
pdges.     And  if  they  were,  we  will  fhew,  Jecondly^ 
tfee  juflnefs  of  our  inference,  that  they  were  compe- 
tent witnejjes. 

■  Firft,  the  Apodles  were  competent  judgeSy  whe- 
ther Jefus  rofe  from  the  dead, 

A  refurredion,  if  real,  may  be  as  well  known, 
and  attefted,  as  any  fad  whatever.  The  Apoflles 
could ye'f,  and  hear,  and  feel;  and  thefe  were  the 
only  rcquifites  in  the  prefent  cafe.  By  the  Lift 
Jcnfe,  they  could  determine,  whether  Jefus  had  flelli 
and  bones,  or  were  a  mere  f^).  arc.  By  the  fecond, 
they  could  know,  whether  h^  uttered  articulate 
words.  By  the  firft,  they  could  know,  whether  he 
was,  or  was  not,  the  perfon  whom  they  faw  cruci- 
fied, a  few  days  before.  They  could  not,  there- 
fore, from  weaknefs,  credulity,  or  furprize,  be  in- 
Capable  of  judging  in  a  cafe,  fo  plain.     To  iw^-^ 


DANA.  i6i 

pofc  them  incapable,  would  be  to  fay,  that  com- 
mon men  are  incapable  of  giving  tedimony  to 
any  common  fad.  If  they  ate,  and  freely  con- 
verfed  with  him,  forty  days  together,  what  room 
was  there  for  deception  ?  Suppofe  him  rifen, 
might  he  not  be  feen,  and  known  to  be  rifen,  with 
the  fame  certainty,  as  any  perfon  is  feen,  and 
known  to  be  living?  What  is  there  in  the  nature 
of  the  fiivfl,  that  a  dead  man  is  come  to  life,  which 
renders  it  lefs  difcernable  by  the  fenfes,  than  this 
fadl ;  that  one,  who  never  died,  is  alive  ?  If  a  par- 
ticular friend  or  acquaintance,  lately  deceafed, 
lliould  rife  from  the  dead,  on  his  firll  appearance^ 
your  furprize  might  lead  you  to  fufpedt  your  own 
fenfes  :  but  fhould  he  continue  with  you,  converfe 
freely,  as  before  his  death,  and  eat  with  you,  fhould 
you  not  know  him  to  be  the  fame  ?  Might  not 
the  fillers  and  friends  of  Lazarus,  (if  wc  admit 
that  he  was  raifed)  know  certainly,  that  it  was 
the  fame  brother  and  friend,  whofe  death  they  de- 
plored ?  Should  the  fallacy  of  our  fenfes  be  objed- 
cd  in  fuch  a  cafe,  why  not  in  any  other,  depend- 
ing on  their  report  ?  Why  may  we  not  queftion, 
whether  any  of  thofe,  with  whom  we  converfe  from 
day  to  day,  are  really  living  ? 

The  Apofl-les^nflantly  attended,  and  were 
moft  intimate  with  their  mafter,  for  feveral  years, 
next  preceding  his  death.  They  teftify,  that  in 
their  prefence,  and  before  many  others,  friends  and 
foes,  he  caufed  the  blind  to  fee,  the  deaf  to  hear, 
the  lame  to  walk,  and  the  dead  to  rife — that  he 


166  DANA. 

healed  all  manner  of  difeafe  inflantly  with  his^ 
wordj  and  did  many  other  wonderful  works — that 
they  followed  him  to  his  trial,  and  to  the  crofs — 
faw  him  crucified,  and  give  up  the  ghoft.  They 
further  teftify,  that  they  faw  him  alive,  after  his 
'  paflion — that  he  continued  forty  days  with  them, 
bringing  to  their  recoiledion  things  he  had  be- 
fore faid  to  them,  eating  with  them,  fhewing  them 
his  hands  and  feet,  in  which  was  vifible,  the  print 
of  the  nails  that  faflened  him  to  the  crofs,  and 
fhewing  them  the  fide  pierced  by  the  fpear. — 
Could  they  not  judge  of  what  they  faw,  heard  and 
handled  ?  Are  the  unlearned  more  liable  to  impo- 
fition  in  diftinguilhing  perfons,  whom  they  have 
feen  and  been  converfant  with,  than  the  learned  ? 
From  the  frequent  appearances  of  Jefus  to  the 
Apoftles,  fingly,  or  to  two,  or  more,  or  all  of  them ; 
and  to  them  all,  when  in  company  with  many  o- 
thers ;  at  one  time,  to  more  than  five  hundred, 
they  had  full  opportunity  to  know,  whether  he  wasj^ 
indeed,  rifen. 

But  if  the  Apoflles  were  competent  judges  of 
the  refurrecflion,  we  infer  hence,  that  they  were 
alio  ccmpetent  witnejjes  of  it.     Let  us  then  fhew,, 
Jccondly,  the  juftnefs  of  this  inference. 

If  being  eye,  and  ear-witnelTes,  they  were  in  a 
capacity  and  fituation  to  judge  whether  Jefus  had 
rifen,  their  teftimony  is  not  to  be  rejected,  merely 
on  account  of  the  nature  of  fuch  a  fadt.  For  this 
would  imply,  that  they  could  not  determine  for 


DANA.  167 

themfelves,  whether  that  was  real,  which  they 
faw  with  their  eyes,  and  heard  with  their  ears,  and 
their  hands  handled :  Their  capacity  tojudge,  and 
their  capacity  to  tcftify,  mun",  therefore,  be  alike 
admitted,  or  denied.  If  their  teflimony  maybe 
fufpedled  on  the  fcore  oi  inter  eft  or  dejigtt;  this  is 
^ite  another  matter.  Their  integrii}\  in  bearing 
telHmony  to  the  refurredion,  is  a  diflindl  thing, 
from  their  capacity  to  give  witnefs  in  fuch  a  cafe. 

They  were,  however,  as  credible  witnefTes  as  they 
were  competent:  Their  number  was  fufficient; 
their  character  was  not  doubtful.  They  had  no 
interefl  to  ferve.  In  the  manner  of  delivering  their 
teflimony  they  did  not  hefitate,  nor  afTert  with 
warmth,  as  falfe  witnefTes  do.  The  union  of  their 
teflimony  flrengthens  and  confirms  it.  There 
are  no  contrary  teftimonies  to  balance  theirs. — 
They  facrificed  every  thing  dear  in  life,  and  life 
itfelf,  to  the  word  of  their  teftimony.  Thefe  things 
might  be  diflinclly  evinced.  But  it  is  not  my 
prefent  bufmefs  to  examine,  particularly,  the  ori- 
ginal teftimonies  to  the  refurrecflion  of  Jefus. 

One  further  obfervation  may  properly  be  added 
here :  It  is  this  :  If  the  Apoflles  bore  falfe  witnefs, 
this  mufl  have  bt6n,  at  leaft,  equally  miraculous^ 
as  the  fad:  they  teflificd.  For  in  confirmation  of 
this  fa6l  they  were,  in  the  prefence  of  thoufands, 
from  all  nations,  enabled  to  fpeak  inflantly,  readi- 
ly, and  forcibly  in  the  tongues  of  all  nations,  hav- 
ing never  learned.     If  you  deny  that  the  difciplcs 


i68  DANA. 

were  thus  filled  with  the  Holy  GhoR,  on  a  public 
Jewifli  felHval,  then  all  the  vail  concourfc,  alTem- 
bled  on  that  occafion,  were  deceived  in  the  report 
of  their  fenfes  ;  and,  at  the  expence  of  demondra- 
tion,  Ihould  have  difbelieved.  Or  you  mufl:  main- 
tain, that  neither  had  the  difciples  the  gift  of 
tongues,  nor  was  there  any  fuch  concourfe  of  na- 
tions, who  fuppofed  they  had.  The  confequencc 
will  then  be,  that  the  New  Teflament  writers  have 
declared,  as  a  fa(5l  of  the  greateft  notoriety,  a  mat- 
ter, the  falihood  of  which,  they  knew,  was  palpa- 
ble to  all  in  Jerufalem  ;  and  declared  it  to  be  a 
confirmation  of  another  matter,  as  notorioufly 
lalfe :  to  which  falfhood  they  pertinacioufly  ad- 
hered, and  facrificed  their  lives.  Men  have  died 
martyrs  to  falfe  opinions :  But  when  have  they 
thrown  away  life,  in  ailerting  things  as  fadts,  which 
the  public  knew  had  no  exiftence  ? 

The  difpenfation  of  the  Holy  Ghofl  after  the 
afcenlion,  in  tongues,  prophecy  and  miracles,  was 
the  laft  fancStion  of  divine  authority  fet  to  the  reli- 
gion of  Jefus.  Thefc  gifts  were  continued  in  the 
church,  through  the  apoftolic  age  at  lead ;  that 
is,  about  fixty  years.  They  were  exhibited  in  all 
places,  and  before  all  ranks.  Thus  was  the  Holy 
Ghoft  a  zvitnefs  of  the  rejurremm.  Thcfe  gifts  were 
as  great  miracles,  as  the  refurrecftion  which  they 
confirmed.  What  further  or  greater  witnefs  to 
the  truth  of  Chriftianity  could  there  be  ?  They 
who  faw  thefe  miraculous  powers,  had  the  greateil 
rcafon  to  believe  the  refurrcdion,  though  they  fuvf 


DANA.  169 

not  Jefus  after  he  rofe  from  the  dead.  They,  who 
withftood  this  witnefs  of  the  Holy  Ghoft,  could 
not  be  perfuaded  by  any.  Some,  who  faw  and  ac- 
knowledged the  miracles  of  Jefus,  and  of  his  firft 
difciples,  yet  demanded  further  witnefs.  Their 
minds  were  clofed  againfl:  conviction ;  as  were  the 
minds  of  others,  who  departed  from  the  faith. 
Hence  the  declaration  refpedling  apoflates  in  the 
primitive  church,  that  having  fallen  away,  after 
their  illumindt ion  and  participalion  of  the  Holy  Ghoft^ 
it  zvas  ifupqjjible  to  renezv  them  again  to  repentance. 

Let  us  attend  to  this  point,  that  the  minifters  of 
the  Chriftian  Religion  confirmed  it  after  its  au- 
thor returned  to  Heaven,  by  the  Holy  Ghoit  fent 
down  from  thence.  Had  thofe,  who  faw  the  gifts 
of  the  Holy  Ghod,  fufficient  reafon  to  believe  on 
fuch  proof?  If  they  had,  then  the  refurred.ion  of 
Jefus  might  be  proved  to  thofe  who  did  not  fee  him 
by  the  teftimony  of  thofe  who  did.  For  thefe  con- 
ftantly  declared,  that  their  miraculous  gifts  were 
conferred  on  them  by  Jefus,  and  for  the  purpofe  of 
proving  his  refurredion.  All,  therefore,  who  be- 
lieved their  commiHion,  on  the  evidence  of  thefe 
gifts,  mufl:  alfo  have  believed  that  Jefus  was  rifen. 
But  if  thofe,  who  faw  the  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghofl 
after  the  afceniion,  had  yet  no  fufficient  reafon  to 
believe,  then,  miracles  are  not  proof  even  to  thofe 
who  fee  them.  A  revelation  is  impoilible,  for  in 
cannot  be  confirmed. 

Enough,  perhaps,  hath  been  faid  to  (hew,  that 
thofe,  who  enjoyed  the  miniftrv  of  the  Apoftles, 

X 


170  DAN    A. 

had  abundant  reafon  to  receive  their  teilimony 
concerning  JefuSj  confirmed  as  it  .was  by  the  pow- 
ers wherewith  they  were  endowed.  In  other  words, 
it  may  be  laudable  to  believe,  though  we  have  not 
feen.  It  is  no  excufe  for  unbelief,  that  men  have 
not  been  eye-witnelTes  of  the  refurredlion. 

If  then  the  religion  of  Jcfus  was  fully  confirmed 
in  the  apofiolic  age ;  was  this  original  confirma- 
tion fufficient  for  after  ages  ?  Is  revelation  bind-^ 
ing  on  thofe  only  who  fee  its  miraculous  confir- 
rnation?  May  it  not  concern  all  men,  of  all  nati- 
ons? Muft  it  then  be  confirmed  by  a  perpetual 
miracle  before  every  individual,  of  every  nation  ? 
Chriftianity  hath  not  been  thus  confirmed.  It 
has  not  been  thus  confirmed  before  our  eyes. 
Shall  we  therefore  fay,  that  it  doth  not  oblige  all 
to  v/hom  it  comes — that  we  ourfelves  are  not  oblig- 
ed to  believe  and  obey  ? 

We  mufb  needs  be  very  incompetent  to  judge 
beforehand,  after  what  manner  a  revelation  from 
God  would  be  confirmed.  Bqt  furely  we  cannot 
objed:  to  evidence,  firailar  to  xhat  we  have,  for  the 
being  and  providence  of  God.  The  original  evi- 
dence for  Chriftianity  was  of  this  kind.  Succeed- 
ing ages  have  had  miraculous  evidence  alfo,  in  the 
obvious  and  conftant  fulfilment  of  prophecy.  In 
the  internal  frame  of  Chriftianity,  its^QClrincs, 
morals  and  motives,  we  have  the  farn^'proof  of  it, 
as  they  had  in  the  beginning.  And  may  we  not 
contemplate  thefe  internal  characters  with  more 


DANA.  171 

'deliberation  than  they  could,  when  the  overbear- 
ing evidence  of  miracles  compelled  an  immediate 
aflent  ?  The  external  evidence  alfo,  from  the  ac- 
compUrhmeht  of  prophecy,  may  be  more  coolly 
examined.  The  miraculous  fad:  alfo,  that  pcrfons 
of  fuch  rank  and  circumftanpes,  publifhed  fuch  a 
Religion,  may  now  be  weighed  more  fully  than 
when  the  fplcndor  of  their  miracles  foreclofed  en- 
quiry. At  the  firll  promulgation  of  Chridianity, 
the  world  was  funk  in  every  kind  of  fuperftitioii 
and  idolatry ;  loft  to  the  knowledge  of  the  true 
God,  whatever  were  the  improvements  in  other 
knowledge.  Was  there  the  like  occafion  for  mi- 
racles after  Chriftianity  was  once  introduced,  and 
had  made  its  way  agamfl"  an  interefied priejlboody  the 
pride  of  philofophy,  the  fword  of  tfye  vmgifiraiey  and 
popular  zealF  It  might  well  be  left  to  continue  and 
extend  itfelf  by  its  own  intrinfic  evidence,  and  the 
accompli flimeiit  of  its  prophecies,  added  to  its  ori^ 
ginal  confirmation.  Is  there  the  ieafh  propriety  in 
calling  for  new  witnefles  of  its  fads,  when  the  ori^ 
ginal  witneffes  have  been  long  lince  dead  ?  Or  in 
demanding,  as  a  condition  of  our  faith,  that  fimi- 
lar  fads  take  place  before  our  eyes  ?  The  foes  to 
this  Religion,  when  it  was  firfl  fct  up,  fav/,  to  their 
•confufion  and  amazement,  the  faclrs  it  records. 
By  irrefiftible  dem.onllration  they  were  compelled 
to  acknowledeje  the  fads,  while  thev  obftinatelv 
denied  the  cotifcqucnccy  infiRing  that  ihev  were  per- 
formed through  the  agency  of  the  De\il.  The 
Piodern  infidel  takes  a  different  part,     Mc  bold!  ■ 


172  DANA.. 

denies  the  fafisy  from  a  convidiion,  that  if  thefe 
are  admitted,  they  eftablilli  our  Religion.     But 
the  burden  of  proof  lies  on  him,  not  on  us.    Thus 
it  is   in  all  cafes  where  men  deny  ancient  fadls, 
once  well  known  and  efiablifhed;  fads,  which 
could  never  have  gained  belief,  but  on  the  fuppo- 
lition   of  their  reality.       The  original  witnefles 
could  not  but  believe  what  they  heard   and  faw. 
What  they  declared  from   perfonal    knowledge, 
ought  to  be  received  on  their  teflimony  ;  allowing 
them  to  be  unexceptionable  witnefFes,  in  other  re- 
fpccls.     One  facl  they  tedified,  which,  if  true, 
proved  Jefus  to  be  the  Chrifl:  of  God.     Of  this 
facl,  the  refurredlion,  thofe  who  heard  their  tcfti- 
mony,   had  miraculous  proof;  though   they  faw 
not  the  rifen  Saviour.     For  the  works,  done  by 
thefe  his  difciples  in  his  name,  confirmed  their 
teftimony.     Thus   was  the  truth  of  Chriftianity 
proved  by  miracles  to  them,  who  faw  not  our  Lord 
after  he  rofe  from  the  dead.    The  miraculous  gifts 
of  the  fpirit  are  called  in  queflion  at  this  diflance 
of  time.     But  by  whom  ?  We  undertake   to  fay 
by  thofe,  and  thofe  only,  who,  had  theyfeen  thefe  gifts, 
"jcoiild  fill  have  denied^  that   J  fits  was  rifen;    or 
had  they  {gqh  him  after  he  rofe,  would  ftill  havq 
denied  his  divine  miffion. 

Some  men  undertake  to  rcafon  on  matters  of  fiidt 
in  this, fort;  *  We  cannot  inveftigate  the  caufe, 
therefore  the  facfts  never  exifted.'  This  is  a  mode 
of  reafoning  which  at  once  denies  all  kind  of  exift- 
cnce,  finite  or  infinite.     It  denies  the  cxiflencQ 


DANA.  173 

cvenof  the  reafoner  himfelf;  though  it  is  certain 
he  could  not  reafon,  did  he  not  exifl.     Yet  fuch, 
if  I  miltake  not,  is  the  rcafoning  of  the  fceptical 
Mr.  Hume  againft   revelation.     We   reafon  from 
matters  of  fad: — but  in  the  enquiry  whether  they 
are  fad:,  reafon  and  argument  have  no  place. — 
They  are  either  perfonally  known,  or  depend  on 
teflimony.     If  perfonally  known,  this  is  intuition, 
or  dcmonftration,  and  therefore,  precludes  all  rea- 
foning.     If  dependant  on  teftimony,  the  only  en- 
quiry is,  whether  the  witnelTes  are  competent,  and 
credible.     Nothing  can  be  more  impertinent  than 
to  fufpend  belief,  till  the  nature  and  caufe  of  the 
fads  are  explained.     In  this  view,  neither  a  mira- 
cle, nor  any  other  fad:,  is  a  fubjed:  of  argument : — - 
But  is  either,  therefore,  a  fubjedt  of  deriJ/onF  He, 
rather,  is  a  fubjed:  of  derifion,  who  thus  applies 
argument  and  reafoning — equally  fo,  whether  the 
fads,  about  which  he  thus  reafons  and  argues,  are 
ordinary,  extraordinary,  or  miraculous.     It  doth 
not  exceed  the  power  of  God,  to  perform  a  mira- 
cle ;  nor  doth  it  contradid:  any  divine  perfcdion. 
If  a  miracle  is  pofliblc,  it  may  bean   objed:  of 
faith,  a?  much  as  the  exigence  of  a  material  world, 
or  any  thing  in  nature.  It  was  moft  dilhonorable 
to  the  underftanding  or  integrity  of  Mr.  Hume, 
to  fay,  that,  ''In  proportion,   as  a  fad  is  marvel- 
lous or  unufual,  the  evidence  of  teftimony  is  di- 
minilhed ;"  and,  *'  deftroycd,  if  the  fad:  be  mi- 
raculous"— that,  "  there  is  a  direct  and  full  proof, 
pjT  tin  uniform  experience,  from  the  nature  of  the 


174  DAN    A; 

faB^  againH:  the  exidence  of  a  miracle" — ^that,  "  a 
miracle,  fupported  by  any  tcflimony,  is  a  fubjedl 
of  derifion  rather  than  argument."  We  fhould 
merit  dcrifion,  did  we  undertake  to  argue  refpcdt- 
ing  the  exiftence  of  a  miracle.  But  if  we  fee  the 
dead  raifed  up,  we  will  own  the  finger  of  God,  We 
will  not  withhold  our  alTent,  till  we  firit  know  how 
the  dead  are  raifed.  A  refurrediion  is  poflible — is  a 
miracle — and  may  be  known  to  be  fadl,  with  as 
much  certainty  as  any  common  fact.  But  on  the 
principles  above  quoted,  not  only  is  a  revelation 
impofiible,  but  any  fpecial  interpoiitioh  of  heaven, 
is  equally  fo.  The  whole  doclirine  of  divine  prov- 
idence is  denied.  The  all-wife  Creator  and  Gov- 
ernor of  the  Univerfe>  is  chained  down  to  the  ori- 
irrinal  laws  of  nature^ 

o 

We  have  mentioned  the  accompliihment  of 
prophecy,  as  a  ftanding  and  miraculous  confirma- 
tion of  revelation.  One  illudration  of  this  point, 
may,  not  improperly,  be  introduced  in  this  place; 
I  mean,  the  defolation  of  Jerufalem  and  difper- 
fion  of  the  Jews.  The  prophecies  and  the  events, 
are  well  known.  In  order  to  defeat  our  Lord's 
prophecy,  Julian  the  apofiate,  A.  D.  361,  under- 
took to  rebuild  the  temple  on  its  former  founda- 
tion, and  to  people  Jerufalem  with  Jews.  He 
committed  the  principle  diredion  of  the  work  to 
Alypius,  whofc  "  abilities  and  diligence  were 
ftrenuoufly  fupported  by  the  governor  of  PaleHinc, 
and  the  zeal  of  the  Jews,  aflembled  from  all  the 
provificcs.     Every  purfe  was   opei-ved,  and  every 


DANA. 


hand  claimed  a  fliarein  the  labor."  But  there  is 
na  counjel againft  the  Lord.  ^*  On  this  occalion,  the 
joint  efforts  of  power  and  enthuiiafm,  were  unfuc- 
cefsful.  An  earthquake,  a  whirlwind,  and  a  fiery 
eruption,  which  overturned  and  fcattered  the  new 
foundations  of  the  temple,  are  attefled,"  (as  an 
enemy  allows)  ''  by  cotemporary  and  refpedable 
evidence"- — particularly,  "  by  the  unexceptiona- 
ble teflimony  of  Ammianus  Marccilinus."  Mr. 
Gibhofiy  however,  intimates  a  doubt,  \\'hether  fuch 
prodigies  rcall}  took  place,  by  adding  ;  "  A  phi- 
lofopher  may  fiill  require  the  original  evidence  of 
impartial  and  intelligent  fpcvltators ;"  and  by 
hinting  at  other  caufes  which  might  fruilrate  the 
attempt— this  among  others,  that  it  was  underta- 
ken, "  only  in  the  lafl  fix  months  of  Julian's,  life."- 
Would  this  hiftorian  undertake  to  defend  the  fen- 
timent,  that  a  philofopher  may  require  other  than 
cotemporary^  refpe^ahle^  and  unexceptiGnahle  evi- 
dence to  a  m.atter  of  fid?  Had  an  hiflorian  of 
that  age  taken  pains  to  fclcdl  particular  teftimo- 
nies  to  an  event,  to  which  many  thoufands  were 
witnelTes,  for  months  together,  after  times  might 
well  have  fuppofcd,  that  the  hiftorian  knew  there 
"Wjas  room  to  queftion  the  fad.  The  appeal  in 
general,  to  thoufands  then  living,  an  uncontra- 
dicted appeal,  hath  at  leaft  as  great  weight  as  any 
particular  telHmonics.  The  vigilance  and  ma- 
lice of  the  JewSj  would  have  prompted  them  to 
the  moft  fcvere  animadverfions,  on  this  flory  of  a 
iTiiraculous  interpolition  of  providence,  had  it 


J76  DAN    A. 

been  fabulous.  Was  not  a  fpace  o^fix  months  fuf- 
ficient  to  have  laid  the  foundations  of  the  work, 
when  fuch  great  exertions  were  made  ? 

But  fuppofe  there  was  no  "  real  prodigy,"  no- 
thing more  than  fome  "  lingular  accident  of  na- 
ture," on  this  occaiion.  Is  the  fulfilment  of  the 
prophecy  lefs  apparent  ?  The  refloration  of  the 
tem.ple  was  undertaken — undertaken  with  defign 
to  defeat  the  prophecy,  and  thereby  overthrow 
Chriftianity.  The  Chriftians,  through  three  cen- 
turies, appealed  to  the  defolation  of  Jerufalcm,  as 
a  fa6i:  which  confirmed  their  religion.  Civil  pow- 
er united  with  Jewifh  zeal  and  inveteracy,  could 
not  repair  the  ruined  temple  and  capital.  The  re- 
paration of  them  has  been  the  ruling  pafTion  of  the 
Jews,  in  every  age ;  but  is  not  yet  effecled.  Thefe 
fa(fl:s  are  ail  admitted.  The  confequence  is  obvi- 
ous ;  that  the  exertions  to  bafHe,  have  but  the 
more  lignally  fulfilled  the  predid:ion,  Jerufalem 
Jhall  he  trodden  down  of  the  Gent  He  s,  till  the  time  of 
the  Gentiles  he  fulfilled.  The  ruin  was  at  firfl  with- 
out, a  parallel.  The  duration  of  the  ruin  is  fo,  all 
circumf^ances  confidered.  Both  were  circum- 
fVantially  foretold.  All  fuccceding  ages  have  been 
witnefTes  to  theaccomplifliment.  More  than  fif- 
teen hundred  years  before  their  defolation,  Mofes 
prophefied,  that  the  Jews  fhould  be  removed  into 
all  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  and  he  an  afonijhmenty  a 
proverhy  and  a  hy-word  among  all  nations.  They 
hive  accordingly  been  for  feventecn  full  centuries 
fucccflively,  an  example  in  all  the  earth,  of  the 


b    A    N    A.  17^ 

Irightcous  fevcrity  of  God  ;  exiles,  an  opprobriumj^ 
an  aftonifliment,  opprefled,  kept  a  diftind  people^. 
^'  They  no  where  live  according  to  their  own  lawSj^ 
no' where  elect  their  own  magiftrates,  no  where 
enjoy  the  full  exercife  of  their  Religion,  They 
flow  into  all  parts  of  the  world,  mix  with  all  na-i 
tions,  and  yet  keep  feparate  from  all.  The  norths 
crn  nations  have  come  in  fwarms  into  the  more 
fouthern  parts  of  Europe  ;  but  where  are  they  now 
to  be  difcerned  and  diflihguifhed  ?  The  Gauls 
went  forth  in  great  bodies  to  feek  their  fortune  ia 
foreign  parts  ;  but  what  traces  of  them  are  now 
remaining  arty  where  ?  In  France,  \vho  can  fepa- 
rate the  race  of  the  ancient  Giuls,  from  the  various 
other  people,  who,  from  time  to  tirne,  have  fettled 
there?  In  Spain,  who  can  diftinguifh  betweeri 
the  firft  pofTcflbrs,  the  Spaniards,  and  the  Goths, 
and  the  Moors,  who  conquered  and  kept  polTef- 
lion  of  the  country  for  fome  ages  ?  In  England^ 
who  can  pretend  to  fay  which  families  were  de- 
fcended  from  the  ancient  Britons,  and  which  from 
the  Romans^  or  Saxons,  or  Danes,  or  Normans  ? — • 
The  moil  ancient  and  honorable  pedigrees  can  be 
traced  up,  only  to  a  certain  period,  and  beyond 
that,  there  is  nothing  but  conje(5lure  and  uncer- 
tainty, obfcurity  and  ignorance.  But  the  Jews 
cart  go  up  higher  than  any  nation.  They  can  ev- 
en deduce  their  pedigree  from  the  beginning  of 
the  world.  They  may  not  know  from  what  par- 
licular  tribe,  or  family,  they  arc  defcended,  but 
they  know  certainly,  that  they  all  fprung  from  the 

X 


t7S  DANA, 

(lock  of  Abraham.  After  fo  many  wars,  mafTa- 
cres,  pcrfecutions,  and  the  contempt  with  which 
4:hey  have  been  treated,  they  ftill  fubfifl,  and  pro- 
fefs,  and  glory  in  their  original.  If  the  hand  of 
Providence  is  not  vifible  in  thefe  things,  where 
will  it  be  found  ?"* 

Is  not  the  accompli fnment  of  prophecy  as  am- 
ple a  teflimony  to  Chriftianity,  as  the  miracles  of 
the  firft  century  were  ?  An  attentive  obferver  of 
thefe  things,  will  have  no  occafion  to  requefl:  a 
meflenger  from  the  dead,  that  he  may  believe. — 
We  have  no  reafon  to  look  for  any  other  miracu- 
lous teftimony  to  Chriflianity,  than  that  of  pro- 
phecy, till  the  time  of  the  rcftoration  of  the  Jews. 

The  other  proportion  to  be  difcufled,  is  this  : 
There  is  no  probability  that  thofe,  who  withlland 
a  revelation  once  confirmed,  would  be  perfuaded, 
by  the  propofed  method  of  one  coming  to  them 
from  the  other  world — one,  whom  they  once  well 
knew  on  earth. 

The  words  have  immediate  reference  to  the  af- 
furancesofa  future  ftate  of  mifery,  contained  in 
Mofes  and  the  prophets  ;  but  are  equally  applica- 
ble to  a  future  ftate  of  happinefs,  (Matt.  xxii.  jr, 
32.)  and  to  the  general  evidence  of  religion  and  a 
life  to  come.  If  the  evidence,  from  Mofes  and  the 
prophets,  were  fufficient,  well  may  this  be  faid  of 
the  Chriiiian  inlHtution,  which  brings  Yiic  and 
immortality  to  light. 

*  Do*5lor  Kewtok. 


DANA.  17Q 

God,  the  only  fit  judge,  has  given  fuch  con- 
firmation to  Chriilianity,  as  feenned  good  to  him. 
Is  he  obliged,  on  the  demand  of  the  infidel,  to  re- 
new the  original  confirmation,  or  add  any  other  of 
the  fame,  or  an  higher  kind  ?  Shall  he  be  direchled 
in  what  manner  to  confirm  his  revelations — what 
evidence  is  bed  adapted  to  moral  agents  ?  Would 
the  rejecliers  of  a  religion,  to  which  he  hath  once 
borne  witncfs,  be  perfuaded,  were  it  again  con- 
firmed in  the  fame,  or  fome  other  manner  ?  Ifrael 
were  witneffes  to  a  conilant  miracle,  forty  years  in 
the  wildernefs,  and  during  many  centuries  in  Ca- 
naan ;  but  as  conftantly  rebelled  through  unbelief. 
The  Pharifees,  v/ho  faw  the  miracles  of  Jefus,  fiill 
required  a  fign.  May  every  age,  country  and  per- 
fon,  demand  a  new  confirmation  of  Chriftianity  ; 
and  infift,  except  we  fee  fjgns  and  zvonderSy  we  will 
not  believe?  One  may,  with  as  much  propriety  as 
another,  infift,  that  nothingfnort  of  miraculous  ev- 
idence fhall  perfuade.  This,  however,  is  a  temper 
which  is  not  perfuaded  by  miracles..  Would  thq 
tragedy  of  the  crucifixion,  and  triumph  of  the  re^ 
furredlion,  if  perpetually  difplayed,  work  convic- 
tion in  thofe,  who  are  not  convinced  by  the  (land- 
ing teftimony  of  God  in  the  fcriptures?  This  is^ 
moreover,  to  require  impo Abilities.  For  how 
could  Chrift  be  crucified,  and  rife  before  the  eyes 
of  every  man,  in  every  age  ? 

Omnipotence  could  irrefiftibly  convert  finners, 
or  raifc  up  a  fpiritual  feed  from  the  ftones.  Heav* 
en  might  be  fet  open  before  us,  and  hell  without  ^ 

\       V   - 


^8o  DAN    A. 

covering.  Moral  evil  might  have  been  prevent- 
ed, and  confequently  natural.  But  mankind  are 
treated  as  moral  agents  and  probationers. 

Were  it  left  to  us  to  fay  what  evidence  is  fit  and; 
neceflary  to  eflablifh  a  revelation^  one  would  infifl: 
on  this  kind,  another  on  that.  No  two  perfons 
might  agree  on  the  fame  attedation.  No  finite 
mind  is  competent  to  judge  beforehand,  what  ev- 
idence would  bcfl  anfvver  the  purpofe  of  perfua- 
fion.  All  will  agree,  that  fliould  any  general  con- 
firmation be  fixed  upon,  it  would  be  fuch  as  all 
men  can  underftand,  bccaufe  all  men  arc  ahkc 
concerned  in  the  fubjed:. 

If  miracles,  o;/(f^  performed,  and  the  conflmtt  evi- 
dence, in  the  fulfilment  of  prophecy,  and  the  inter- 
nal charadlers  of  the  Chriftian  religion,  do  not 
prevail  on  men  to  believe  and  live  according  to  it, 
"what  reafon  is  there  to  f  uppofe,  that  the  renewal  of 
rniracles  w^ould  have  this  effedt  ?  What  reafon  is 
there  to  fuppofe,  that  thofe  who  are  now  infidels, 
would  not  have  been  fo,  had  they  lived  in  Chrift's 
day,  or  in  the  Apoftolic  age  ?  What  probability, 
that  one  coming  to  them  from  the  dead,  could 
perfuade  them  ?  The  Handing  affurances  of  future 
jetributionSj  contained  in  the  Bible,  are  more  juft 
matter  of  convidion,  than  any  which,  we  might 
prefume,  a  meffenger  from  the  dead  would  bring. 
Suppofe  this  meffenger  to  be  one  whom  the  unbe- 
liever was  acquainted  with,  doubtlefs  it  would  b^; 
ai  great  furprifc  at  ^n^,  to  fee  him  rifen  from  the 


DANA.  i8i 

^ead.  But  the  furprife  would  be  tranfient.  Should 
he  immediately  difappear,  after  the  delivery  of  his 
mcflage,  no  fooner  would  the  unbeliever's  firll  af- 
tpnilhment  be  over,  than  he  would  begin  to  fuf- 
ped,  that  the  whole  was  delufion. 

Further,  If  this  requefl,  that  a  mefTenger  might 
come  from  the  dead,  be  reafonable  in  one  inflance, 
it  mufl:  be  fo  in  another,  and  in  every  inftance. — 
Should  it  be  gratified  in  every  inftance,  the  effeO: 
would  be  loll  in  the  frequency  and  commonnefs  of 
fuch  meffengers. 

The  crime  of  the  rich  man's  brethren  is  fuppo- 
fed  to  have  been  pra^icai,  rather  than  Jpeculative 
infidelity.  They  did  not  give  fo  much  attention 
to  the  fubjed:  of  revelation,  as  deep  fpeculations  in 
infidelity,  imply.  Heedlefs  inattention  to  religion, 
is  an  infeparable  attendant  on  a  life  of  diilipation. 
This  is  much  the  fame  in  its  influence  on  morali- 
ty, religion,  and  futurity,  as  direct  fcepticifm,  and 
often  terminates  therein.  "The  fool  hath  [aid  in  his 
heart,  there  is  no  God.  This  is  the  natural  confc- 
quence  of  the  charader  afcribcd  to  him.  Corrupt 
are  they,  and  have  done  abominable  iniquity.  The 
wicked,  thrdigh  the  pride  of  his  countenance,  will  not 
Jeek  after  God — God  is  not  in  all  his  thoughts.  Expe- 
rience, in  another  world,  firft  convinced  the  rich 
man  of  the  ruinous  ilTue  of  a  life  of  irreligion  and 
diflblute  manners.  To  rejed  a  religion,  confirmr- 
cd  as  Chriftianity  hath  been,  and  coming  rccom- 
|7iended  as  this  doth,  by  iu  dodrines  and  pre- 


iS2  DANA. 

cepts,  example  and  promifes,  is  to  dei ermine y  not  to- 
receive  a  revelation  from  Heaven,  The  alfu ranees 
it  gives  of  future  retributions,  and  which  the  re- 
lurredtion  of  its  author  have  confirmed,  are  not 
weighed  ;  perhaps,  not  fo  much  as  read.  They 
are  praclically  difbelieved.  Admonitions  unre- 
garded, are  as  though  their  authority  was  exprefs- 
\y  rejcded.  No  kind  of  evidence,  which  licen- 
tious men  may  afk  for  themfelves,  will  fuffice. — 
For  if  they  will  not  examine,  or  attend  to  the  evi- 
dence actually  laid  before  them,  neither  would 
they  attend  to  any  other.  They  do  not  conlider, 
at  all,  the  nature  and  tendency  of  the  courfe  they 
are  purfuing.  Having  pleafure  in  unrighteoujnejs ^ 
they  love  darknefs  rather  than  light.  There  are  o- 
thers,  in  v/homfpeculative  pride  is  predominant. — . 
Thefe  will  not  believe,  becaufe  they  relolve  to  ad- 
mit nothing  on  the  common  principles  of  evi- 
dence. They  m.uil  think  out  of  the  road  of  com- 
mon fenfe,  to  fliew  the  world  the  fuperiority  of 
,  the i  r  talen t s .  T  hu s,  profejjing  them/elves  to  be  zvife, 
ihey  become  fools. 

IMPROVEMENT. 

From  what  hath  been  difcourfed,  we  may  form 
a  judgment  of  thofe  who  employ  their  talents  to 
diminifli  the  evidences  of  Chriftianity,  and  de- 
ftroy  its  authority.  To  rejed  it  without  enquiry, 
mufl  be  a  mark  of  great  folly ;  not  to  mention  the 
poflible  impiety  of  fuch  condud.  lb  make  it  a 
fubjed  of  enquiry,  and  yet  determine  beforehand 


DANA.  i«3 

not  to  embrace  it,  is  unfair.  The  dodrine  of  our 
accountablenefs  of  a  future  life,  as  there  taught,  fo 
well  accords  with  the  fentimcnts  of  the  humaa 
heart,  if  not  hardened,  that  we  cannot  objed  on 
this  account.  We  may  rather  wiih  for  the  autho- 
rity of  revelation  to  confirm,  and  enforce  the  ope- 
rations of  our  own  minds. 

It  is  at  leafl  poiliblc,  and  there  is  a  degree  c£ 
probability,  that  there  may  be  a  ftate  of  future  re- 
tributions, in  which  we  fliall  receive  the  confer 
quences  of  our  prefent  moral  condud:.  If  there  is, 
revelation  o;i^  can  inform  us  ;  to  be  fu re,  it  can 
heft  inform  us,  how  to  demean  ourfelves  in  this 
probationary  ftate,  fo  as  to  fliun  the  mifery  and  fe- 
cure  the  happinefs,  of  the  life  to  come.  What  ar- 
gument have  we  to  fhew  that  this  life  is  the  whole 
of  our  exiftence  ?  What  thanks  do  we  owe  to  the 
man  who  would  perfuade  us  that  it  is,  or  would 
lead  us  to  live  as  though  it  Avere  ?  Is  he  a  friend  of 
virtue,  or  of  our  peace?  This  world  is  a  moft  im- 
portant part  of  our  exiftence,  when  viewed  in  re- 
ference to  another,  and  as  our  nrobation  for  eter- 
nal  recompences.  On  the  bare  poffibility  of  fuch 
a  world  to  come,  it  is  the  higheit  wifdom  to  lay 
wp  a  good  foundation  againfb  the  time  when  we 
ihall  pafs  into  it.  Such  provifion  for  that  world, 
will  not  lellen,  but  increafe  the  real  enjoyments  of 
this  world,  and  render  us  far  belter  members  of 
fociety.  Whofoever,  then,  would  erafc  from  our 
minds  a  fenfe  of  moral  obligation,  and  fubvert  the 
foundations  of  virtue,  co-operates  with  the  enehw 


l84  CAN     A; 

of  all  righteoufncrs,  to  iprcad  confufion  and  mife 
ry  in  the  world.  If  he  boaits  of  fuperior  talents^ 
he  may  be  told,  that,  while  the  giver  of  his  talents 
is  entitled  to  his  gratitude,  and  fhould  diredl  the 
application  of  all  his  powers,  Satan  hath  the  di-^ 
redlion  of  them.  For  fuch,  what  remedy  is  pro- 
vided ?  If  the  light  which  is  in  thee  l?e  darknefs,  how 
great  is  that  darknefs  ! 

Further,  A  general  habit  of  inattention,  and  indif- 
ference to  the  truths  and  precepts  of  revealed  religi- 
on, is  much  the  fame  in  its  effecfcs,  as  an  open  denial 
of  them.  On  fuch,  inftrudions  and  admonitions  are 
loft.  The  realities  of  eternity  are  treated  as  idle 
tales.  They  do  not  confider,  becaufe  they  will  not 
be  difturbed  in  their  amufements,  fenfual  induJ- 
gcncies  and  worldly  purfuits.  Overcharged  with 
thefe,  the  folemnities  of  death y  a  refiirrefHon-,  a  judg- 
ment to  come,  and  eternal  rewards  and  punifJomentSy 
make  but  a  feeble  impreffiony  if  any  at  all.  Some  im- 
minent danger  may  give  a  prefent  alarm,  but  no 
fooner  is  the  imm^ediate  hazard  removed,  than 
they  return  to  folly  without  any  concern.  An  af- 
fluence and  contini^g^Lorofperity,  are  often  accom- 
panied with  forgetfum^B^|D,d  contempt  of  reli- 
gion. The  rich  man  and  his  brethren  were  lift- 
lefs  to  the  concerns  of  futurity.  They  believed 
not  Mofes  and  the  prophets.  1^ hey  feared  not  God, 
becaufe  they  had  no  changes.  In  fuch  circumftances, 
there  is  much  occafion  to  guard  againft  luxury, 
voluptuoufnefs,  uncharitablcnefs  and  a  fpirit  of 
felf-fufficiency. 


DAN    A.  iSS 

Faith  and  repentance,  are  of  univerfal  impor- 
tance, unalterably  connedled  with  each  other,  and 
with  the  hope  of  divine  acceptance.  The  true 
believer,  the  true  penitent,  is  conformed  to  the 
image  of  Chrift. 

God  knows  what  means  are  bed  adapted  to  the 
end  of  our  faith:  He  hath  eftabliihed  thefe  means; 
he  hath  annexed  to  the  diligent  ufe  of  them,  every 
encouragement  of  his  concurrence  and  l^lefling. — 
To  negledland  vilify  them,  or  devife  other  means 
of  acceptation,  is  to  defpife  God^  and  make  his 
revelation  ufelefs* 

He  that  hath  an  ear,  let  him  hear,  *'  Search  the 
fcriptures — in  them  we  have  eternal  life — they 
teflify  of  Chrift."  The  language  of  God  in  them 
is,  REVERENCE  MY  SoN.  In  him,  in  no  other,  is 
God  reconciling  the  world  to  himfelf.  In  vain 
mufl  thofe  intercede  for  mercy  in  the  other  world, 
who  will  not  be  perfuaded  through  Chrifl,  to  be 
reconciled  to  God,  in  this  accepted  time,  this  day 
of  falvation.  Then  the  door  will  be  fliut.  He  that 
believeth  JJjall  hefaved  ;  he  that  believe th  not  Jh all  he 
damned,  Ncgled  not  the  me^lns  of  grace,  ^ench 
not  the  fpirit.  If  th^ffjfcaped  not,  who  refufed  to 
hear  Mofes  and  the  prophets,  we  furely  JJjall  not 
efcape,  if  we  negleclfo  great  falvation  ;  which  at  the 
fvrfi  began  to  he  fpoken  hy  the  Lord,  and  was  confirmed 
unto  us  hy  them  that  heard  him  :  God  alfo,  heariwr 
them  zvitnefs  by  fgns  and  wonders,  divers  vnradesand 
gifts  of  the  Holy  Qhojh 

z 


SERMON     X. 

CHRISTIAN    MORALITY. 

BY 

JAMES     DANA,    D.  D. 

Pallor  of  the  firft  Congregational  Church  at  New-Haven,  Conneclicut. 


||ffjg|[fK^f;;ffie»Tr;^i:-^i!~-.ii<- 


Matt.    vii.    28,  29. 

And  it  came  to  pajs  when  Jefus  had  ended  thefe  fay-^ 
ings,  the  people  were  aflonijhed  at  his  doBrine.  For 
he  taught  them  as  one  having  authority ,  and  not  as 
the  Scribes,  -  '  ' 

THESE  words  are  St.  Matthew's  refledlion 
on  our  Lord's  well-known  rermon,  contain- 
ed in  this  and  two  preceding  chapters.  When  he 
had  finifhed  his  dircoiirfe,the  multitude,  who  heard 
it,  were  aftonijhed  at  his  dot'trine :  The  reafon  of 
their  aftonithment  is  aHigned.  For  he  taught  them 
as  one  having  authority,  and  not  as  the  Sc  ribes.  His  in- 
ftrudlion  was  very  different  from  theirs,  both  with 
refpedl  to  the  matter  and  manner  of  it.  His 
countenance  might  itrongly  exprefs  the  weight  of 
the  truths  he  taught.  He  alfo  lived  according  to 
his  own  maxims  j  whereas,  they  f aid,  and  did  not* 


jSS  DANA, 

What  I  propofe  is tfrjf^  to  lay  before  you  an  im* 
perfedl  Ikench  of  the  morality  of  our  religionu 

Secondly,  to  fhew  that  on  this  account,  it  merits 
the  high  approbation  and  eileem  of  all  u)  whom  it 
is  oifered. 

thirdly,  that  the  fuperior  excellence  of  its  moral, 
fyftem^  proves  the  truth  of  Chriftianity. 

Firji,  I  am  tb  lay  before  you  an  imperfed:  ftcetch 
of  the  m^oral  fyftem  of  Chrifrianity.  This  is  fum- 
marily  contained  in  that  difcourfe  of  its  divine  au^ 
thor,  on  whic  ehe  Evangeliit  makes  the  reflcdi- 
on  in  the  woras  read. 

Here  it  will  be  proper  to  fpecify  the  principal 
virtues  which  Chriftianity  inculcates,  whether  per- 
fonal,  focial,  or  divine—to  coniider  the  foundati-. 
on  and  motives  on  which  it  inculcates  them— and 
to  take  a  view  of  the  correfponding  example  of  its 
author, 

I  would,  firfty  fpecify  the  principal  virtues,  per- 
fonal,  focial,  and  divine,  inculcated  by  our  Reiigi-, 

on. 

The  virtues  oS.  felf-government  are  thefe;  mode- 
ration in  our  worldly  wiflics  and  enjoyments ;  con- 
tentment and  freedom  from  anxious  care ;  meek- 
nefs  and  patience  under  injuries  and  provocations ; 
humility  or  poverty  of  fpirit,  not  thinking  of  our- 
il4ves  more  highl}  than  we  ought,  but  foberly,  not 
exercifmg  ourfelves  in  things  too  high  for  us.  By 
forbidding  inward  luft  and  hatred,  it  lays  the  ax  at 


0    A    N    A.  i$(j 

ihc  root  of  the  tree,  and  teacheth  us  with  what 
care  to  keep  the  heart,  that  it  may  be  clean  from 
all  allowed  impurity. 

As  to  they^a'^/ virtues,  our  Lord  in  hisdifcourfe 
■enjoined  the  greateft  fimplicity  and  integrity  in  our 
intcrcourfe  with  others,  by  directing  that  our  com- 
munication be  yea,  yea,  nay,  nay.  He  cautioned 
againlt  uncharitable  thoughts  and  cenfures.  He 
pronounced  the  merciful  and  peace-makers  blefled. 
He  has  taught  us  to  feek  timely  reconciliation  of 
thofe  whom  we  have  offended — to  difpenfe  our 
alms  in  the  moft  private  manner,  and  to  all  who 
may  Hand  in  need — to  forgive  injuries,  however 
great,  or  how  oft  foever  repeated ;  to  love  our  ene- 
mies, blefs  them  that  curfe  us,  do  good  to  them 
that  hate  us,  and  pray  for  them  who  defpitefully 
ufe  and  perfecute  us,  that  we  may  be  the  children 
of  our  heavenly  Father.  His  fun  rifeth  on  the 
evil  and  good,  and  his  rain  fails  on  the  jufl:  and  un- 
juft.  Our  goodnefs  extendeth  not  to  him  ;  but, 
like  his,  it  fhould  extend  to  all  without  difcrimi- 
nation,  as  we  may  have  opportunity  to  do  then* 
good. 

This  diflinguiflieth  Chriftian  benevolence  from 
other  kinds.  Ties  of  affinity  or  blood,  fjiendfnip 
or  former  obligations,  union  in  religious  profelTion 
or  in  fecular  purfuits,  limilarity  of  afflictions  or 
dangers,  and  even  a  combination  in  wickednefs, 
attach  men  to  one  another,  and  prompt  ihcm  to 
kind  offices.     Sinners  and  publicans  love  thofc 


,390  DANA. 

w  ho  love  them,  and  do  good  to  thofe  who  do  good 
to  them,  or  w  hofe  infereft  may  be  confidered  as 
their  own.     But  Jefus  has  taught  his  difciples  to 
do  more  than  others.     Chriftian  benevolence  is  finely 
illuftrated  in  the  ftory  he  relates  of  the  traveller, 
v^ho  on  his  journey  fell  into  the,  hands  of  mercilefs 
robbers,  and  in  the  depths  of  diftrefs  found  relief 
from  an  unexpected  quarter.     This  unfortunate 
man  was  a  Jew,  .  He  that  {hewed  mercy  on  him 
^  as  a  Samaritan..     There  was  a  deeply  rooted  en- 
mity between  the  two  nations.     Notwithftanding 
this,  the  Jew,  ready  to  peri fh,,.  was  befriended  by 
.  the  Samaritan,  after  he  had  been  negleded  by  one 
and  another  of  his  own  nation,  and  thofe,  perfons 
of  an  high  religious  profefTion.     Forgetting  any 
national  prejudices^nd  affronts,  confidering  not  at 
all  the  charaf/er  oi  the  helplefs  m.an,  but  only  his 
necejfity,  the  compafTionate  Samaritan  felt  his  bow- 
els moved,  aad  inflantly  miniftred  to  his  relief. 
Thus  was  he  neighbor  to  him.     Such  is  the  love 
of  our  neighbor  which  .Chrillianity  enjoins.  .  This 
.  is  to  obferye.tbe  golden  rale,  IVhatfoever  ye  would 
that  menjhould  do  to  you,  do  ye  e'Oenfo  to  them.     The 
reafonablcnefs  of  this  rule  applies  to  the  fcnfe  and 
feeling  of  every  man,  however  difficult  and  rare  a 
conformity  to  it  may  be. 

With  refped  to  the  duties  of  piety,  how  differ- 
ent are  the  Chriftian  precepts  from  thofe  of  the 
Scribes?  J^rpm  an  affedled  deference  to  rites  and 
ceremonies,  they  negleded  the  weightier  matte.fs 
of  the  divine  law,  judgment,  mercy   ancl  faith. 


DAN    A.  191 

They  condemned' our  Lord's  difcipks  for  attend- 
ing to  a  matter  of  nece(5fty>  oa.  the  f^bbath,  and 
him  tor  doing  good  on  that  day.  By  their  tradi- 
tions they  made  void  both  moral  and  pofitive  pre- 
cepts. The  Chriftian  lawgiver  declared  their 
worfbip  vain,  sind  taught  a  righteoufnefs  far  fupe- 
rior-^to  avoid,  all  oHentaiion  and  affeded  feveri- 
ties,  and  to  worfhip,  not  with  the  eye^  but  with  the 
heart — to  attend  the  forms  of  religion  ordained  by 
God,  as  necellary  means  of  cultivating  a  fpirit  of 
piety,  of  exprefling  a  fupreme  reverence,  efteem 
and  cojifidence  towards  the  great  objed:  of  our 
homage— means,  alfo,  of  exciting  and  improving. 
our  love  to  men.  For  according  to  him,  the  whole 
of  religion  is  comprehended  in  the  love  of  God  and 
our  neighbor.  The  former  is  the  firil  and  greatr. 
commandment,  and  the  latter  is  like  unto  it.  Ex- 
ternal worlhip  is,  in  no  ihftance,  required,  further 
than  it  is  fubfervient  to  this  temper  of  love. 
Chriflianity  refcues  the  moral  law,  contained  in  the 
ten  command rhents,  from  the  corrupt  glofTesof 
men  who  thanked  God  that  they  were  exempt 
from  grofs  fcandal,  when  w^ithin  they  w^ere  full  of 
all  uncleannefs ;  who,  under  pretence  Wf  zeal  for 
God,  devoured  widows' houfes,  perfecuted  thejufl, 
and  undertook  to  abfolve  children  from  their  duty 
to  their  parents.  The  Chriftian  fcheme  of  mora- 
lity adniits  of  no  refervcs:  for  no  man  can  fervc 
two  maflers.  It  requires  a  firm  adherence  to  its 
injundions,  though  perfecuted  for  rightcoufnefs 
fake.  It  extends  to  the  heart  and  thoughts,  as 
well  as  to  the  lips  and  life. 


19a  DAN    A. 

Confider  then  the  purity,  fublimity  and  extcrtt; 
of  the  Chriftian  morals;  their  perpetuity,  as  Hea- 
ven. Compare  them  with  the  celebrated  fchcmcs 
of  heathen  philofophers  and  moralifl:s,or  of  modern, 
deifts.  The  latter  confine  the  rule  of  moral  obli- 
gation very  much  to  external  conduct,  without  re- 
ference to  the  heart;  or  they  limit  morality  to  vi- 
fible  fobriety  and  juflice — or  at  moll,  extend  it  no 
further  than  the  pretended  virtues  of  friendlhip 
and  patriotifm.  They  fall  as  much  fhort  of  the 
Chriftian  fcheme,  as  an  occafional  (perhaps  unin- 
tentional) adl  of  generofity,  falls  fhort  of  a  fteady 
and  uniform  courfe  of  benevolent  adiion— or  as 
doing  good  to  one  who  has  obliged  us,  or  whofe 
welfare  is  as  our  own,  falls  fliort  of  kind  offices  per- 
formed to  our  revilers  and  perfecutors. 

The  love  of  our  country  is  indeed  an  illuflrious 
virtue,  when  connedled  with  love  to  mankind,  of 
every  nation.  But  if  it  interferes  with  univerfal 
benevolence,  it  is  no  other  than  the  narrow  fpirit 
of  a  party,  and  hath  the  fame  afpedl  on  the  welfare 
of  o:her  nations,  as  fclfifhnefs  hath  on  the  welfare 
of  our  own  ;  or,  as  party-zeal  in  religion,  hath  on 
all  denominations,  except  its  own.  Chriftian  mo- 
rality includes  private  friendlhip,  and  the  love  of 
our  nation.  At  the  fame  time  it  inculcates  more 
elevated  and  exteniive  benevolence^  ^eace  on  earthy 
good  will  to  all  mankind. 

It  is  brave,  we  grant,  to  hazard  life  for  the  pub- 
lic liberties ;  but  is  it  fo,  to  throw  away  life  in  * 


I 


DANA.  193 

ttuci  ?  or  to  fall  on  one's  own  fword  ?  He  that  doth 
the  latter,  ads  the  part  of  the  coward,  who  mean- 
ly deferts  the  pod  of  danger  afligned  him  by  his 
General.  He  that  doth  the  former  is  like  one 
who,  to  fave  his  houfe  when  on  fire,  fliould  throw 
himfelf  into  the  flames.  Both  deferve  the  burial 
of  an  afs.  They  facrifice  the  honor  and  comfort 
of  all  their  dependents  and  friends,  the  private  and 
public  affections,  to  a  fmail  misfortune,  to  imagi- 
nary honor.  When,  on  the  contrary,  men  acqui- 
efce  in  evils  they  cannot  prevent  or  remedy;  when 
it  is  not  in  the  power  of  external  things  to  take 
from  them  their  felf-enjoyment;  when  they  avenge 
not  themfelves  ;  when  they  lofe  life  to  fave  their 
country  from  flavery,  or  their  own  fouls  from  per- 
dition ;  this  is  true  magnanimity  ;  this  is  Ghrifti- 
an  fortitude.  For  our  faith  overcomes  the  world : 
It  teacheth  patience  and  refignation  under  fuffer- 
ings  from  God^  and  forgivenefs  of  men  whatever 
v/rong  they  do  or  defign  us.  It  eflabliflieth  an 
inward  fcrenity,  and  a  firmncfs  which  makes  the 
feeble  and  timorous  more  than  conquerors. 

Secondly,  of  t\\Q  foundation  or  principle  of  Chrifli- 
an  morality.  This  is,  the  approbation  and  glory 
of  God,  or  a  regard  to  him  as  moral  Governor,- 
Let  your  light  Jo  JlAne  before  men^  that  they  may  fee 
your  good  works,  and  gloyify  your  Father  in  Heaven. 
Any  fyftem  which  doth  not  fix  moral  virtue  on  the 
throne  of  God,  will  be  found  to  fix  it  on  a  weak- 
and  precarious  ba(is.  His  perfediions  are  immu- 
table.    Rcfpecl  to  his  authority  and  approbatioi> 

A  a       ' 


194  DAN    A. 

is,  therefore,   a  permanent,  uniform  principle  of 
-right  adion.     The  difference  between  good  and 
evil  is  unchangeable,  becaufe  God  is  fo,  and  be- 
caufe  his  will  is  redlitude.     He  will  always  do 
what  is  fit : — He  only  knows  what  is  fo: — All  re- 
lations and  fitnefTcs  are  from  him  and  by  him: — - 
To  him  be  glory  for  ever.     His  glory  and  the 
happinefs  of  his  creatures  unite.     With  him  we 
have  to  do,  vi  ho  is  God  over  all,  who  hath  confli- 
tut^d  the  various  connections  and  dependencies 
of  mankind,  the  fubordi nations  of  families  and 
larger  focieties,  and  enjoined  their  mutual  duties. 
His  authority  is  the  higb/'Ji  pojfible  obligation.     Who- 
ever hearkens  unto  God  will   therefore  pay  due 
refpecl  to  earrhly  fuperiors,  and  fulfil  ail  relative 
duties ;  and,  at  the  fame  time,  w^ill  dare  to  aiTert 
the  authority  of  confcience  and  of  God  againft 
any  allurements  or  menaces  whatever.   This  prin- 
ciple of  piety  operates  alike  in  all  relations  and 
circumftances  of  life,  in  all  inftances  of  focial  or 
perfonal  virtue,  and  at  all  times,  whether  we  ad 
under  the  view  of  others,  or  are  retired  from  eve- 
ry human  eye.    The  all- feeing  eye  of  God,  a  fenfe 
of  his  perfections  and  our  accountablenefs,  and 
this  only,  can  fecure  us  in  the  caufe  of  virtue  when 
temptation  is  Itrong;  when  no  power  on  earth  can 
animadvert  on  our  crimes,  when  we  have  every 
afTurance  of   fecrecx<L|'    Reputation,  health,  eafe, 
gain,  will,  in  fome  iSflances  and  to  a  certain  de- 
gree, favor  the  ea^life  of  morality  ;  but  tht  fear  of 
God  is  the  only  principle  whereby  wc  can  attain 
to  perfection  in  hohnefs. 


DANA.  19s 

'  Chrillmn  morality  has  fpecial  refpecl  to  the 
glory  of  God,  through  a  Mediator  :  It  tcacheth 
whatever  we  do^  to  do  it  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Je^ 
fus.  ne  fruits  of  right eoufnefs  are  by  him  to  the  praife 
and  glory  of  God.  The  faith  of  him  peculiarly 
works  by  love  to  God  and  men. 

Confider,  next,  the  motives  which  Chriftianity 
exhibits,  to  enforce  the  admirable  fcheme  of  mo- 
rality it  inculcates. 

Among  the  gracious  words  which  proceeded 
from  our  Lord's  mouth,  and  which  his  hearers  fo 
juftly  admired,  are  thefe  : — Ajl:,  and  it /hall  be  giv- 
en you:  Seek,  and  ye  Jh all  find :  Knock,  and  itjhall  be 
opened  unto  you.  For  every  one  that  afk  th,  receive th  j 
and  }>e  that  feeketh,  findeth  ;  and  to  him  that  knocketh, 
ilfhall  be  opened.  If  ye,  being  evil,  knozv  how  to  give 
good  gifts  unto  your  children,  how  much  more  fhall  your 
Father  which  is  in  Heaven,  give  good  things,  the  holy 
Spirit,  to  theni  that  afk  him  ?  Therefore,  (as  it  foon 
follows)  enter  ye  in  at  the  ftrait  gate: — Take  my  yoke 
upon  you,  and  ye  fhall  find  reft  to  your  fouls.  It  is  am- 
ple encouragement  to  our  religious  endeavors,  if 
God  is  attentive  to  our  necefiities,  as  a  parent  to 
thofe  of  his  offspring  ;  will  guide,  fupport,  and 
fuccced  our  religious  labor.  The  objedlion  to 
Chrift  our  mader  is,  therefore,  without  founda- 
tion, and  dictated  only  by  floth  and  depravity  of 
heart ; — Thou  art  an  hard  man,  reaping  zvhere  thou, 
Jiaft  not  f own. — For  unto  every  one  that  hath  fhall  be 
given,  and  he JJj  all  have  abundance  ;  but  from  him  thai^ 


196  DA    N    A. 

hath  noty  Jhall  he  taken  away  even  that  zvhich  he  hath. 
As  the  recompence  of  their  labors  and  fuiferings 
in  the  caufe  of  truth  and  righteoufnefs,  the  fcrv- 
ants  of  Chrift  ftiall  receive  in  the  prefent  time,  an 
hundred  fold  for  whatfoever  they  do  or  fuffer  in 
his  caufe;  and,  in  the  world  tocome,  adiftinguilh- 
ed  reward.  If  we  be  dead  with  him,  we  fiall  alfo 
live  with  him.  If  we  fuffer ,  we  fhall  alfi  reign  with 
hvn.  Shall  the  difficulties  of  the  Chrii^ian  life  be 
objedled,  when  we  may,  if  we  alk  it,  have  aid  from 
on  high  ?  After  all  the  labors  and  fufferings  of 
Jefus  for  us,  can  we  entertain  this  thought,  that  his 
comrnandments  are  grievous?  What  doth  he  com- 
rnand  but  this,  that  we  deny  ourfelves,  and  follow 
iiim  ?  Shall  the  difciple  object  that  his  Lord  Hiith, 
learn  of  me?  To  whom  elfe  ihall  we  go  for  the 
words  of  eternal  life,  but  to  Jefus  the  Son  of  God  ? 
And  can  we  go  to  him,  while  we  refufe  or  com- 
plain of  his  terms  ? 

Unlefs  we  admit  a  future  life,  what  fufficient 
motives  are  there  to  virtue  ?  Is  it  its  own  reward, 
when  the  opprelTor  hath  power,  and  the  opprelT- 
ed  have  none  to  comfort  them  ?  Where  is  the 
beauty  of  virtue,  when  her  friends  are  dropping 
into  eternity,  if  they  have  no  hope  beyond  the 
grave?  The  wifefi  and  beft  heathen  were  totally 
ignorant  of  the  refurred:ion,  and  had  no  other 
than  unfettled,  confufed  notions  of  future  retribu- 
tions ;  yea,  they  had  many  doubts  even  of  the  im- 
mortality of  the  foul,  and  were  in  darknefs  whe^ 
ther  God  would  dircdl  and  aid  human  endeavors. 


DANA.  197 

Their  fpcculations  were  rather  reiined  than  folid  ; 
£t  leaft,  the  irmaxims  were  not  exemplified.  Ade- 
quate help,  and  profpeds  were  wanting.  But 
Chrirtianity  reveals  the  redemption  of  the  body 
irom  corruption,  and  promifeth  eternal  life  to 
tvhem  who  patiently  continue  in  well-doing. — 
Through  Chrift's  ftrcngthening  them  his  difciples 
can  do  all  thinp-s.  Their  converfation  is  in  Heav- 
en,  becaufe  there  he  has  prepared  maniions  for 
them  : — He  hath  fct  before  them  motives  to  vir- 
tue, as  much  fuperior  to  thofe  of  heathen  moral- 
ifts,  as  the  morality  of  the  gofpel  is  fuperior  to 
theirs. 

Laftlyy  The  perfect  moral  char^cfer  of  J  ejus 
Chrijly  exemplified  all  his  heavenly  maxims.  Ele- 
vated as  the  morality  of  his  religion  is,  he  doth 
but  call  upon  us  to  imitate  his  example.  His  pri- 
vate and  perfonal  virtues,  his  fpotlefs  innocence 
and  purity  of  life,  heavenly-mindednefs  and  felf- 
denial,  meeknefs,  humility  and  patience,  teach  his 
followers  an  indifference  to  all  things  temporal ; 
to  purify  themlelves,  that  they  may  refemble  him 
"who  was  holy^  harmlefsy  and  feparate  from  fjmers — 
teach  them  to  bear  reproach  for  him,  who  'when  re- 
viledy  reviled  not  again  ;  and  when  he  fuffered,  threat- 
ened not.  Though  from  malignity  his  enemies 
accufed  him  of  many  high  crimes  ;  yet  they  never 
could  convid  him  of  a  fault.  His  converfation 
was  without  guile.  His  benevolence  was  mani- 
fcif  in  emptying  himfelf  of  the  form  of  God,  and 
appearing  in  fafliion  as  a  man ;  revealing  the  way 


u.. 


198  D  A  N  a: 

of  rightediifiiefs  and  peace ;  going  about  doing 
good,  to  pcrfons  of  all  conditions  and  characters  ;. 
enduring  with  dignity,  every  fpccies  of  diftrcfs 
and  ignominy,  from  thofe  to  whom  he  came  to  do 
all  podible  good ;  giving  himfelfa  ranfom  for  a 
guilty  world.  Every  other  example  finks  and  fades 
before  his.     It  hath  no  part  dark ;  all  is  light. 

High  encomiums  are  palTed  on  fuch  as  expofe 
life  for  a  friend,  or  their  country.    What  muft  we 
then  fay  of  him  who  died  for  enemies,  for  all 
mankind  ?  None  of  the  human  race  were  endear- 
ed to  him  by  any  peculiar  ties,  antecedently  to  his 
interpofing  to  favc  them  from  death.     He  could 
not  look  on  his  own  things,  when  he  undertook  the 
caufe  of  rebels.     His  philanthropy  includes  every 
kind  affection  that  conlifts  with  the  greateft:  good : 
It  includes  particular  attention  to  our  kindred^ 
friends  and  country,  fo  far  as  comports  with  mor- 
al rectitude,  ^nd  the  good  of  the  univerfe.     He 
loved  a  loft  world,  and  gave  his  life  to  fave  it.    He 
was  alfo  fufceptible  of  the  national  and  friendly 
affedtions.     He  wept  over  Jernfalem  ;  and  at  the 
grave  of  Lazarus,  whom  he  loved.     On  the  crofs^ 
he  beheld  his  mother  with  filial  affedtion.     His 
murderers   were    inftant  with  one   voice,  crucify 
him  ;  and  he  prayed.  Father  forgive  them. — He  was 
Ir ought  as  a  lamb  to  the  jlaughter.     While  fuch  an 
example  is  before  us,  how  fhould  our  hearts  burn 
within  us  !    What  bowels  of  mercies,  humblenefs. 
of  mind,  long-fuffering,   forgivenefs  and  charity, 
can  anfwcr  to  his  example  ! 


DA  AN    A.  199 

Further,  confider  his  piety  and  devoiion.  tie  oft 
rcforted,  with  his  httlc  family,  to  a  place  confe- 
cratcd  to  focial  prayer.  After  days  full  of  labor, 
his  nights  were  often  fpent  in  this  exerafe.  His 
watching  opportunities  for  retirement,  enforccth 
his  injunction.  Enter  into  thy  clojety  and -pray  to  tby 
Father  which  is  infecret.  His  example  alio  fhevvs, 
that  the  public  rites  of  religion  m^y  not  be  neg- 
]e(!led,  though  moral  duties  are  to  be  preferred. 

In  becoming  obedient  to  the  death  of  the  crofsj, 
he  flievved  perfect  acquiefcence  in  the  will  of  his 
Father,  appointing  him  to  fuffer  and  die.  ^he  cup 
my  Heavenly  Father  giveth  me,  Jhall  1  not  drink  it  ? 
Father y  glorify  thy  name.  Allured  that  he  fhould 
fee  of  the  travail  of  his  foul ;  for  the  joy  fet  before  him^ 
he  endured  the  crofs.  How  inflrud:ive  is  his  ex- 
ample, in  the  principle  and  pradice  of  all  virtue  ? 
While  it  raifeth  our  efteem  and  admiration,  the 
imitation  of  it  would  be  our  highefl:  felicity  and 
glory.  Had  we  the  fame  mind,  all  bitternefs  and 
wrath,  and  anger,  and  clamor,  and  twsyy  and  ma- 
lice, would  belaid  alide;  all  trefpalTcs  forgiv- 
en to  them,  that  hate  and  perfecute  us.  Chrifh's 
command  is,  that  we  love  one  another,  as  he  hath 
loved  us.  Then  do  we  thus  love,  when  we  are  rea- 
dy, if  need  be,  to  lay  down  our  lives  for  the  brethren. 
For  fuch  was  his  love.  He  laid  down  his  life  for  us. 
If  in  this  higheft  inflance,  our  love  emulates  his 
pattern,  many  waters  cannot  quench,  nor  the  floods 
drown  the  flame.  Every  other  expreflion  of  love, 
is  fmall  compared  with  this.     But  after  the  great- 


;200  DA     N     A. 

c{\  heights  ill  this  God-like  virtue,  his  difcip'les 
follow  him  at  an  unapproachable  diltancc.  Yec 
the  nearer  they  copy  the  pattern  he  has  left  them, 
the  better.  IVe  have  not  refified  unto  blood.  And 
Ihall  common  obflacles  difcourage  us?  If,  after 
the  example  of  Chriit,  we  are  animated  by  the  joy 
Jet  before  us,  we  fhall  lay  afide  every  'oceight^  and  the 
fin  that  eafily  bejets  us,  and  run  the  Chrifiian  race 
with  patience,  looking  unto  Jefus. 

Though yz/^/t/jT  perfedion  is  not  the  conditiorirof 
falvation,  yet  Chrifiian  perfedion  is.  This  denotes, 
that  in  Jimplicity  and  godly  fincerity  we  have  our  con- 
verfation  in  the  world — that  every  thought  is 
brought  into  captivity  to  Chrifl'.  He  requirv."s, 
give  me  thine  heart.  A  barren  contemplation,  or 
admiration  of  his  fayings  and  example  will  be 
unavailing.  The  fame  mind  muft  be  in  us,  or 
we  build  on  the  fand.  If  we  follow  him  whither- 
foevcr  he  goes,  then  we  build  on  a  rock. 

From  the  foregoing  fketch  of  the  morality  of 
our  religion,  we  proceed  to  fhew, 

^'*^9ff^ti^>  ^'^'^  i^  merits  the  high  approbation  of 
all  to  whom  it  is  offered. 

The  divine  original  of  Chriilianity  is  neither 
taken  for  granted,  nor  the  fubjed:  of  enquiry,  in 
this  place.  The  Dcill  allows  the  morality  of  it, 
to  bvt  fiipcrior  to  that  of  any  fyflem,  which  the 
world  ever  before  received. 

The  Chrifiian  precepts  of  purity,  frugality  and 
temperance,  conduce  to  health  of  body  and  fere- 


DANA;  20I 

Jlity  of  mind,  fit  men  to  endure  hardnefs,  to  face 
danger.  Its  precepts  of  doing  to  others  as  we 
would  they  fhould  do  to  us,  of  loving  our  neighbor 
as  ourfelves,  naturally  conciliate  fricndfliip  and  ef- 
teem,  and  diffufc  benevolence  and  peace.  Sup- 
pofe  a  fociety  compofed  of  members  of  fuch  a  cha- 
ra6ler,  each  regarding  the  property  and  reputation, 
life  and  liberty,  fecurity  and  comfort  of  his  neigh- 
bor, and  of  the  conmiunity,  as  his  own  ;  none  in- 
vading the  rights  of  another,  or  of  the  fociety; 
but  all  dwelling  in  unity,  confpiring  to  promote 
the  inteieil  of  each  other,  and  of  the  whole. 
Suppofe  alfo  that  the  fear  of  God  is  the  fupreme, 
reigning  principle  with  them.  How  happy  mult 
fuch  a  fociety  be  in  itfelf  ?  How  refpedtable  in  the 
view  of  other  communities  ?  If  one  member  fujfer, 
all  the  members  Jujjer  with  it :  If  one  member  be  ho- 
nored^  all  the  jnembers  rejoice  zvith  it.  Should  there 
be  a  diverfity  of  opinion  on  common  concerns, 
mutual  trufl"  and  condefccntion  would  prevent  any 
ill  effedls.  Should  any  from  without  be  fo  injuria 
ous  as  to  invade  their  rights,  fuch  invaders  muft 
be  under  peculiar  di  fad  van  rage.  United  m  af- 
fection, having  no  domeflic  enemies,  colleding  all 
its  wifdom  and  force  againH"  the  invafion,  confid- 
ing in  public  virtue  and  the  divme  defence,  fuch  a 
fociety  will  rife  fuperior  to  difficulties,  and  emerge 
from  dillrcfs.  'J'befiot  of  pride  ivill  be  turned  back, 
and  the Jioiit- hearted  f polled.  The  fpirit  of  love  and 
religion  in  fuch  a  fociety  befriends  public  liberty, 
and  confequently  private,  without  which  there  can- 

B  b 


ao2  DAN    A. 

nor  be  public.  The  wifefi  and  bed  men  are  ex- 
alted ;  and  thefe  exalt  their  nation.  The  laws  are 
framed  to  thecircumftancesof  thefociety  ;  found- 
ed on  (table  principles  of  moral  reclitude,  not  a- 
dapted  to  anfwer  a  temporary  purpofe  merely,  or 
gratify  a  capricious  humor.  From  the  higheft  to 
the  loweft,  every  one  knows  what  treatment  to  ex- 
ped:,  according  to  his  behavior. 

Such  would  be  the  flate  of  a  community,  ad:- 
ing  on  Chriftian  maxims.  It  would  refcmblc 
thofe  times  when  theyjhall  not  hurt  in  all  God's  holy 
mountain — when,  as  we  expecl:,  Jefus  fhall  reign 
king  of  nations.  Who  then  but  muft  highly  ap- 
plaud the  Chridian  fcheme  ?  And  the  rather,  as  no 
other  contains  fuch  an  alTemblage  of  moral  virtues, 
or  furnifheth  afliftance  to  the  pradiice  of  all  righ- 
teoufnefs  and  goodncfs,  or  exhibits  fuch  a  pattern, 
or  fuch  hope  of  immortality.  How  deficient  are 
all  other  fchemes  in  the  foundation  and  extent  of 
moral  obligation?  In  the  fandlions  and  rules  of 
virtue  ?  How  many  vices  are  inculcated  by  them 
as  eminent  virtues  ?  How  much  greater  flrefs  is 
laid  on  rites  and  ceremonies,  than  on  things  of  a 
moral  nature  and  immutable  obligation?  How 
have  the  framers  of  them  contradidled  their  own 
bed  maxims  ?  When  we  have  furveyed  them,  and 
find  them  unfatisfadory,  we  may  contemplate 
Chridianity,  the  moral  fydem  of  which  requires 
nothing  that  needs  corredion,  or  admits  amend- 
ment; the  author  of  which  exhibited,  in  his  own 
life,  a  pcrfe-d  tranfcript  of  his  own  admirable  rule,?. 


DANA:.  203 

We  cannot  contemplate  his  rules  or  example^  with- 
out the  highcft  approbation  of  both. 

The  mod  clear  and  honorable  conceptions  of 
the  moral  pcrfedlions  and  government  of  God,  and 
the  bell  inftruclions  in  the  nature  of  his  worfhip, 
are  derived  from  the  Chriftian  Religion.  All  who 
wiih  to  know  the  true  God,  and  become  his  true 
woriliippers,  will  therefore  highly  value  the  direc- 
tions herein  given.  How  did  it  claim  the  atten- 
tion of  fuch  as  wtx^  feeling  after  God^  if  haply  they 
might  find  him?  Such  as  were  paying  homage  to 
the  Hoft  of  Heaven,  to  the  deified  fouls  of  men, 
to  beafts,  birds,  and  reptiles,  to  gods  of  gold,  fil- 
ver,  fl:one  and  wood  ?  Among  whom,  every  fpecies 
of  cruelty,  impurity  and  immorality,  was  fan(flifi- 
ed  with  the  name  of  religion.. 

Further:  If  Chriftian-ity  is  calculated,  in  the 
beft  manner,  to  make  all  men,  and  all  focieties  of 
men,  virtuous  and  happy,  this  muft  recommend  it 
to  every  benevolent  mind,  every  friend  of  virtue, 
every  lover  of  his  country  and  mankind.  What 
veneration  is  due  to  the  irreprehenfible  character 
of  Jefus  ? — A  charad:er  not  merely  harmlefs  and 
unblemifhed,  but  eminent  above  any  for  public 
and  private  virtues,  for  piety,  humility  and  chari- 
ty ;  and  which  no  one,  who  hath  any  fenfe  of  mo- 
ral worth,  can  furvey,  without  wifhing  that  it  were, 
in  a  meafure^  his  own.  If  Jefus  went  about  doing 
good,  rendered  blelTing  for  curfmg,  and  endured 
imexampled  fufferings  with  invincible  patience 


204  D    A    N    A. 

and  magnanimity,  forgive  him  this  wron^,  For^ 
give  the  non-refiflranceof  evil,  and  the  benevolence 
which  paffeth  knowledge^  exprefTed  in  his  giving  his 
life  a  ranfomfor  all. 

.  Some  of  the  friends  of  ChriHianity  may  have 
fpoken  on  the  fubjed  of  morals,  in  derogatory 
terms.  It  hath  given  them  no  occafion  to  aflign 
to  the  moral  virtues  a  low  place.  It  hath  enjoined 
every  virtue  comprehended  in  love,  divine  or  fo- 
cial — enjoined  them  as  the  weightieil  matters,  on 
the  fureit  foundation,  by  the  ftrongefl  motives,  and 
brigheft  example.  His  difciples  know  not  what 
fpirit  they  are  of,  if  they  depreciate  the  virtues  for 
which  the  life  of  their  Lord  was  confpicuous,  in 
which  he  demands  their  imitation  of  him. 

Thtfoesoi  Chriflianity,  on  the  other  hand,  have 
fometimes  reproached  it  as  deficient  in  fome  prin- 
cipal moral  virtues ;  and  as  having  inculcated  o- 
ther  things  as  virtues,  which  betray  meannefs  and 
pufillanimity.  We  may  with  the  greateft  truth 
deny  the  charge ;  and  fix  it  on  them.  Shall  fui- 
cide,  murder,  and  fprcading  the  ravages  of  war 
over  the  earth,  to  make  all  nations  tributary  to  one, 
be  extolled  as  virtuous?  Valor,  in  the  caufe  of 
truth  and  righteoufnefs,  charity  and  peace,  is  to  be 
admired  ;  but  in  the  caufe  of  error,  unrighteouf- 
nefs,  mifanthropy,  private  revenge,  or  difcontent- 
ment  with  providence,  what  is  it  but  brutal  rage? 
In  the  former  caufe,  what  valor  may  compare  with 
that  which  Chriflianity  inculcates  and  exempli- 


D    A    N    A.  20-S 

fics  ?  In  the  latter,  other  fyftems  may  claim  the 
honor  as  all  their  own.  ]f  we  commend  friend- 
fhip,  the  friend  of  all  mankind  claims  our  eftecm 
above  all  others.  Hr.d  all  who  have  named  his 
name,  governed  themfclvcs  by  the  principles  and 
maxims  which  he  taught  and  lived,  inflead  of 
fpending  their  zeal  about  external  rites,  or  peculi- 
ar opinions  and  profeflions,  it  had  been  happy  for 
church  and  (late.  Chriftianity  would  have  appear* 
ed  all  glorious — -fair  as  the  moon,  clear  as  the  fun^ 
and  terrible  as  an  army  with  banners^ 

When  the  opinions  and  lives  of  many  profcfTors 
are  objedted,  we  blufh ;  and  Ihould  not  know 
what  to  anfwer,  if  the  corruptions  of  it  were 
chargeable  to  Chriftianity  itfclf.  But  the  enquiry 
is  not,  how  have  fome  of  its  profelTed  friends  be- 
lieved and  praclifed  ?  It  is,  how  did  Jcfus  himfelf 
teach  and  live  ?  and  what  would  be  the  confequence 
to  the  world,  if  all  men  learnt  of  him  ?  Hovtcvcr 
his  religion  may  have  been  difparaged  by  the  mif- 
apprehenfions  and  bad  lives  of  profcfTors,  or  the 
mifreprefcntations  and  calumnies  of  open  enemies, 
its  moral  fyftem  is  allowed  to  be  better  adapted  to 
human  virtue  and  happinefs  than  any  otlu  r ;  and 
the  author  of  it  lived  according  to  it.  Our  bufi* 
nefs,  then,  is  not,  by  traducing  his  charailer,  to 
lelTen  the  refpeiSt  due  to  his  maxims ;  but,  from 
principles  of  benevolence  and  viev/s  of  pcrfonal 
happinefs,  to  form  ourfelves  upon  this  fyftem,,  and 
ufe  our  influence  that  others  may. 


2o6  DANA. 

Suppofe  Jcfus  to  be  no  other  than  an  human 
pcrfon,  the  eminence  of  his  charadler  as  a  teacher^ 
and  example  of  moral  virtue,  claims  high  refpecl. 
Whether  we  have  any  fpecial  connexion  with  him 
or  not,  we  at  lead  ought  to  admire  and  copy  his 
virtues,  as  we  revere  illuftrious  characters  in  hif- 
tory,  and  take  them  for  models.  We  applaud 
their  wifdom,  we  dwell  with  pleafure  on  the  rc- 
hearfal  of  their  excellent  qualities.  Shall  then  the 
author  of  Chriilianity  and  his  inftitution  be  treat- 
ed with  negled-  and  fcorn  ?  Such  treatment  can 
proceed  only  from  a  mind  unfriendly  to  univerfal 
virtue  and  happinefs — from  a  wiih  to  overthrow 
the  foundation  of  morality,  which  hath  ever  beea 
coniidered  as  the  fupport  of  order  and  government. 
If  Chriilianity  is  not  from  Heaven,  it  hath  done 
mankind  no  wrong.  The  benefits  of  it  have  been 
more  and  greater  than  can  well  be  conceived. 
"  The  belief  of  it  is  the  only  principle  which  can 
retain  men  in  a  fteady  and  uniform  courfe  of  vir- 
tue, piety  and  devotion ;  or  can  fupport  them  in 
the  hour  of  diftrefs,  of  ficknefs  and  of  death." 
*'  A  total  rejedtion  of  all  religious  and  moral  prin- 
ciples whatever,'*  is  the  ufual  confequence  ofre- 
jedling  it.  It  is  the  commendation  of  Chrifliani- 
ty,  that  none  hate  it,  but  thofe  whofe  deeds  are  evil,. 

Some  have  reprefented  the  body  of  the  human 
fpecies  as  made  for  compliance  and  punifliment. 
Thofe  have  been  extolled  as  heroes  and  patriots,, 
whofe  moft  fplendid  adlions  have  fprung  from  no 
other  motive  than  their  own  advancement  on  the 


DAN    A.  207 

degradation  of  their  people.  '  Often  are  focieties 
and  kingdoms  torn  with  diicord,  and  merged  in 
diilrefs,  through  the  interfering  views  of  diiFerent 
partizans.  As  to  religion,  the  Deity  is  preiumed 
to  be  too  great  to  require,  or  be  pleafcd  with,  any 
acknowledgments  from  his  creatures.  The  bene- 
volence of  a  Deilt  may  involve  his  deareft  connex- 
ions in  a  multitude  of  fins,  and  teach  his  bed  friend 
to  err  fatally  from  the  truth,  or  facrifice  him  to  a 
tranfient  Daflion.  It  fcorns  inferiors,  and  envies 
(uperiors.  The  difciple  of  Jefus,  on  the  contrary, 
feels  the  force  of  the  following  maxims  :  All  of  yon 
he  Jubje^  one  to  another y  and  be  clothed  with  humility • 
The  eye  cannot  fay  to  the  hand^  I  have  no  need  of  thee.; 
nor  the  head  to  the  feet  y  I  have  no  need  of  thee,  Thofe 
members  of  the  body,  ivhichfeem  to  be  more  feeble y  are 
necejfary.  Engaged  in  the  fame  caufe  as  his  Lord, 
fwayed  by  the  fame  principles,  formed  on  the  fame 
maxims,  the  difciple  comparatively  forgets  his 
own  things  in  a  concern  for  thofe  of  others.  Par- 
tial views  and  attachments  are  fubordinated  to  uni- 
verfal  benevolence.  He  doth  not  fuffer  fin  upon 
his  brother.  His  benevolence  prompts  his  exer- 
tions to  convert  his  worft  enemies  from  the  error 
of  their  way,  fave  their  fouls  from  dcvirh,  and  hide 
a  multitude  of  fins.  Chriftian  charity  envieib  ncty 
vannieth  not  itfelfyfeeketh  not  her  own,  thinkelh  no  evil, 
beareth  all  things,  and  endureth  all  things.  It  doth 
good  to  men  of  every  defcription,  not  fceking  re- 
compence  on  earth,  but  in  heaven. 

We  now  refer  it  to  all  judges  of  tafe,  whether 
the  ^r^r^i  which  flione  in  the  difcourfes  and  life  of 


io8  DAN     A. 

Jefas  have,  on  the  whole,  been  tarnifhed  by  the 
wanton  pens  of  the  foes  to  his  religion.  What  a: 
TTiind  mult  he  have,  who  employs  fine  talents  in 
wiping  off  from  vice  its  deformity?  Virtue  can 
have  no  beauty,  if  vice  is  comely.  The  admirers 
of  a  noble  lord  may  be  afked,  whether  his  writings 
Lave  not  diireminaLcd  a  moral  contagion  beyond 
all  in  the  prefcnt  age  ?  If  to  draw  an  enticing  pic* 
tare  of  Mice,  to  convey  irreligion  and  profligacy  in 
yn  agreeable  channel,  to  pollute  the  morals  of 
ChriilLndorn,  to  initiate  a  favorite  fon  in  ibe  myf-* 
riery  of  iniquity y  be  a  worthy  employment,  this  was 
the  psecuiiar  ornament  of  that  nobleman's  charac- 
ter. But  if  to  feduce  the  age,  inexperienced  years 
cfpecially — if  to  feduce  from  the  paths  of  virtue 
and  integrity  into  thole  of  error  and  pollution,  one 
of  whofe  tender  years  nature  and  providence  had 
appointed  him  the  guardian — '\{  to  lay  before  the 
child  of  his  hopes  a  fyftem  replete  with  impiety  to 
God  and  mifery  to  man,  can  mark  a  character  with 
reproach,  too  heavy  ceafure  cannot  fall  on  Ches- 

TLKFIELD. 

It  remains  to  be  (hewn,  tbirdiy,  that  tiic  fiiperior 
excellence  of  the  Chiiitian  morals  proves  this  rcli- 
j;^ion  to  be  div'iijc.  If  Jefus  Were  a  mere  man, 
iiow  could  he  have  uruvered  principles  and  max- 
ims of  life,  which  ic>  M.uch  excel  thole  of  the  wile- 
ell  phiioibpheLs  and  moraliUs?  He  was  nor  bred 
lo  letters.  His  pai  encage,  education,  and*externai 
circumllances  render  it  impolTible  that  he  Ihould 
be  Lac  auiiioi  of  fuch  a  f}  ftcm,,  if  wc  den)  his  di- 


DANA.  209 

vine  milTion.  He  had  never  learned,  and  yet  fpake 
as  never  man /pake.  After  he  had  delivered  the 
fermon  on  the  Mount,  in  the  hearing  of  multi- 
tudes, the  people  were  ajlonijhed  at  his  doSlrine, 
Nor  were  the  Jevviili  dodors  lefs  aftoniflied,  when 
they  heard  his  difcourfes  on  one  occafion  and  ano- 
ther. They  might  well  afk.  How  biozveth  this  man 
letters?  His  dodrine  and  miracles  alike  amazed 
them. 

Further :  If  Jefus  was  a  mere  man,  he  was  of  all 
men  the  vilefl :  For  he  not  only  declared  that  he 
received  his  Religion  from  Heaven,  but   added, 

that  God  was  his  Father.  He  afilimed  divine  ti- 
tles and  honors  ;  and  declared  that  ail  men  fliould 

honor  him,  even  as  they  honor  God,  whom  he  cal- 
led his  Father.  This  was  the  height  of  blafphe- 
my,  if  he  was  not  a  teacher  fent  from  God.  Now 
fuppofe  him  fuch  a  blafphemer,  was  it  polnble  he 
Ihould  be  the  author  of  fo  admirable  an  inftitution  ? 
Should  exhibit  fo  perfecl  a  pattern?  Could  the 
vilefl:  of  impoflors  publifh  a  Religion  mofb  hono- 
rable to  the  divine  moral  perfecStions,  containing 
the  brightcfl:  difcoveries  of  them,  placing  the  ef- 
fence  of  piety  and  virtue  in  a  conformity  to  them? 
A  Religion  perfective  of  human  happincfs,  View- 
ing by  his  own  example,  what  exaltation  our  de- 
bafed  nature  is  capable  of? 

We  mufl:,  therefore,  either  deny  the  fuperlor  ex- 
cellence of  the  Chrifl-ian  fcheme  of  morality;  or 
elfe  admit  that  Jefus  was  fent  of  God.  The  for- 
mer the  Deifl:  doth  not  deny.  They,  who  believe 
that  Jefus  was  the  Son  of  the  bleiTed,  can  give  a 
reafon  why  he  taught  and  lived  as  never  man  did. 

C  c 


2IO  D    A     N     A. 

But  the  Deill,  on  his  principles,  miifl  fay,  that  the 
mod  complete  fydem  of  morality,  a  fyftem  replete 
with  love  to  God,  and  men,  and  goodnefs,  pro- 
ceeded from  Satan,  the  avowed  enemy  of  them — 
that  the  moft  perfedt  charader  was  the  meifenger 
of  Satan.  Let  him  reconcile  this,  or  elfe  acknow- 
ledge with  one  of  his  brethren  who  guarded  the 
crucifixion,  truly  this  man  was  the  Son  ofG:d, 

Whether  the  moral  fyflem  of  Chriftianity,  in  it^ 
Jelf  confideredy  is  or  is  not  a  fufficient  proof  of  the 
Heavenly  original  of  this  Religion,  yet  when  we  add, 
that  the  author  of  it,  feparatc  from  his  divine  milli- 
on, was  every  way  incompetent  to  frame  fuch  a  fyf- 
tem,  I  fee  not  but  the  concluiion  is  undeniable, 
that  God  was  with  him.     Admitting  this  conclu- 
iion, it  gives  a  rational  account,  and  the  only  ra- 
tional account,  of  the  tranfcendent  excellence  of 
the  inftrudions  and   moral  charader  of  Jefus. 
This  fuppofition,  and  no  other,  furnifheth  us  with 
a  folution  of  an  acknowledged  fad,  that  a  perfon 
of  low  parentage  and  education,  defpifed  and  re- 
ceded of  men,  who  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head, 
"*yet  taught  ''  more  fublime  truths,   and  maxims 
more  elTentially  promotive  of  the  good  of  man- 
kind, than  all  the  writings  of*  ancient  philofo- 
phers,  legiflators  and  moralifls  could  afford ;  and 
exemplified   them  in  his  own  charadcr.     If  then 
his  inditution  ^and  charader  claim  high  efieem 
and  reverence,  viewing  him  as  a  mere  man ;  how 
much  higher  efi:eem  and  reverence  do  they  claim 
if  he  came  from  God. 

Can  "  an  oppofer  of  our  Religion  lay  his  hand 
on  his  heart,  and  fay  his  defign  is  friendly  to  man- 


DANA.  211 

kind?  If  he  fliould  fuccced  in  his  endeavors  to 
overthrow  ir,  has  he  a  clearer  fyftem  of  theology 
to  propofc?  Better  rules  of  private  and  focial  vir- 
tue, or  higher  motives  thereto  ?  Has  he  a  more 
efficacious  plan  to  lay,  for  promoting  the  honor  of 
God  and  good  of  men  ?  Or  can  he  relieve  our  ig- 
norance, and  point  out  the  defigns  of  God  to  us  ? 
Let  the  writings  of  modern  infidels  anfwer  thefe 
queilions.  If  then  in  proportion  as  one  weakens 
the  faith  of  Chriftianity,  he  hurts  the  interefls  of 
peace  and  order,  virtue  and  happinefs,  the  pre- 
fumption  is  violent  that"  his  "  head''  dind*^  heart'' 
are  "  wrong.  Men  of  this  turn  have  reafon  to  ex- 
amine themfelves  clofely ;  for  truth  comes  not  to  de^ 
firoy  meriy  hut  tofavs," 

IMPROVEMENT. 

From  what  has  been  difcourfed  we  infer,  firfi:^ 
that  pra5fical  truths  are  the  mofl  important.  This 
appears  from  the  inflrudlions  of  Jefus,  the  befl: 
teacher.  Not  a  fentence  in  his  excellent  fermon 
on  the  Mount  but  directs  us  in  the  matter  or  man- 
ner of  our  duty  to  God,  or  men,  orourfelves — in 
the  rule,  the  principles,  or  motives  of  it.  Religi- 
on is  defigned  to  improve  the  underdanding  and 
the  heart.  While  it  informs  the  mind  with  the 
beft  fentiments  and  principles,  thefe  are  a  founda- 
tion to  the  befl  temper  and  conduct.  If  not  im- 
proved to  this  end,  they  do  but  aggravate  our  fin 
and  fhame.  In  vain  mufl  we  plead  our  knowledge, 
faith  and  profeflion,  if  we  are  not  followers  of 
Chrid.     He  will  fay  at  the  day  of  accounts,  I ne^ 


212  DAN    A. 

ver  knew  you  I  But  they  that  do  his  command* 
ments,  have  right  to  the  tree  of  life. 

FIcnce  religious  docl^rines  are  important  or  o- 
thcrvvife,  according  to  their  pradical  tendency. 

Hence  thofe  hopes  are  ground lefs  which  men 
build  on  the  mere  obfervancc  of  religious  rites. 
Thefe  are  to  be  regarded  in  fubferviency  to  judg- 
ment, mercy  and  faith.  For  love  to  God  and  men 
is  more  than  whole  burnt  offerings  and  facrifice. 
Shall  then  the  power  of  Religion  be  poflponed  to 
the  form?  Or  will  2iny  partial,  fuperjicial Sind  occafi^ 
onal  refped:,even  to  the  moral  precepts  of  Religion, 
diflinguifh  us  from  hypocrites  and  heathen? 
What  but  the  obedience  of  the  heart,  anunreferv- 
ed  and  perfevering  obedience,  an  obedience  found- 
ed in  Chriftian  motives  and  profpedls,  can  do  this  ? 
The  morality  our  Religion  inculcates  is  that  of  the 
hearty  zvhofe  praife  is  not  of  men,  but  of  God.  The 
dearefl:  luft  mud  be  facrificed.  We  muft  endure 
in  the  hour  of  temptation.  Love  to  God  and  men, 
faith  unfeigned,  or  believing  unto  righteoufnefs, 
gives  the  vidlory  over  ter^ptations  within  and 
without.  The  faith  that  doth  not  work  by  love, 
cannot  fave  us.  Charity  is  the  qualification  for 
Hea/en,  and  will  abide  for  ever.  Taking  our 
principles  and  maxims,  our  aims  and  hopes,  from 
the  author  of  Chriftianity,  regardlefs  of  other  fyf- 
tems  and  guides,  we  cannot  mifcarry.  Let  this 
mind  be  in  you,  zvhich  was  Jn  Chrift  Jefus,  Whatfo^ 
ever  things  are  true, — honeft, — jujl, — pure, — lovely^ 
— ^f  K^^^^  ^^port,  if  there  be  any  virtue,  and  if  there 
be  any  praife^  think  on  thefe  things. 


SERMON     XI. 


The  folly  and    GUILT,   of   being 

ASHAMED     OF     CHRIST. 
B    Y 

SAMUEL     S,    SMITH,     D.  D. 

Col.  N.  C.  V.  p.  et   S.  T.  P. 


Mark    viii.   38. 

JVhofoever  Jhall  be  aJJjamed  of  me,  and  of  my  words, 
in  this  adulterous  and  finf id  generation,  of  him  alfa 
Jhall  the  Son  of  Man  be  ajhamed,  when  he  cometh  in 
the  glory  of  his  Father,  and  with  the  holy  Angels. 

TO  perform  our  duty,  and  then,  without  of- 
tentation  to  avow  it,  is  our  moft  honorable 
and  ufeful  charader. '  It  is  fulfilling 'the  firft  law 
of  our  nature,  and  extending  the  prevalence  of  re- 
ligion and  virtue  in  the  world,  by  the  influence  of 
our  example.  To  be  ajljamed  o^oux  duty,  is  to  be 
afhamed  of  our  glory.  To  acknowledge  its  obli- 
gation in  fecret,  and  yet  difguife  it  before  men, 
difcovers  a  weaknefs  and  duplicity  of  mind,  that 

is  no  lefs  inconfiilent  with  dignity,  than  with 
piety. 


214  SMITH. 

The  fentiment  ofjbarney  that  gives  to  the  opinion 
of  others  fo  great  authority  over  the  mind,  is  ori- 
ginally a  wife  and  excellent  law  of  nature.  But, 
the  depravity  of  man  hath  perverted  the  heft  prin- 
ciples, and  changed  the  moft  ingenuous  feelings 
of  the  heart,  into  mini  iters  of  fin.  Great  crimes 
are  evidently  oppofed  to  the  interefts  of  fociety, 
and  therefore  they  are  condemned  by  public  o- 
pinion. — The  depravity  of  the  hurhan  heart  is  e- 
qually  oppofed  to  the  fpirit  of  true  Religion  ;  and 
therefore,  the  manners,  and  at  lead  the  oftenfible 
opinions  of  the  world,  contradict  the  purity  and 
fimplicity  of  the  Gofpel.  The  one  oppofes  vice 
in  the  extreme,  the  other  tends  to  encourage  vice 
in  a  certain  degree. 

The  world  hath  fo  accommodated  its  converfa- 
tion,  its  wit,  and  its  opinions,  to  its  manners,  that 
men,  in  the  caufe  of  piety,  are  afraid  of  incurring 
its  cenfure,  or  contempt.  They  want  courage  to 
oppofe  the  ftream  of  cuftom — they  renounce  their 
duty  in  compliance  with  fafhionable  vice,  or  they 
conceal  their  inward  reverence  for  it,  and,  againfi 
their  convid:ion,  they  live  like  the  world. 

To  be  afhamed  of  Chrift,  is  a  fin  that  may  be 
confidered  in  a  variety  of  lights.  Our  Saviour,  in 
pronouncing  this  fentence,  had  probably  an  im- 
mediate view  to  the  teltimony  which  his  difciplcs 
would  be  called  to  bear  to  his  name,  before  the 
tribunals  of  their  unrighteous  judges  ;  where  the 
fplendor  of  courts,  the  feoffs  of  enemies,  the  ig- 


SMITH.  2IS 

nominy  of  punifhments,  and  the  humble  and  un- 
friended condition  of  the  firft  Chriftians,  would 
all  contribute  to  fubdue  their  minds,  to  make 
them  afhamed  of  their  mailer's  crofs,  and  to  de- 
prive them  of  the  courage  necelTary  to  profefs,  or 
to  fulfer,  for  his  defpifed  caufe. — Honor  elevates 
the  mind,  and  gives  fortitude  to  the  weak.  Shame 
is  an  enfeebling  principle,  that  takes  even  from 
the  brave,  the  confidence  necelTary  to  avow  truth, 
and  the  firmnefs  necellliry  to  endure  fuffering. — 
Indeed,  to  be  afiamed  of  Chrift,  and  to  deny  him, 
are  fo  intimately  connedted,  as  caufe  and  efFedr, 
that  St.  Matthew,  in  exprelling  this  declaration  of 
our  Saviour,  fays,  whofoever  Ihall  deny  me  before 
men,  him  will  I  alfo  deny  before  my  Father  who 
is  in  Heaven. 

Through  the  goodnefs  of  God,  we  are  not  expo- 
fed  to  perfecution ;  but  living  in  an  age  in  which 
cuflom,  in  which  the  powers  of  wit  and  ridicule, 
in  which  the  honors  of  fociety,  and  in  which  even 
reafon  and  philofophy  have  been  engaged  on  the 
fide  of  vice,  we  are  liable  to  difguife  the  truths  of 
rhe,gofpel,  and  to  be  afhamed  of  Chrift,  with  a 
more  criminal  weaknefs  than  they  who  fufFered 
their  conffancy  to  be  fhaken  by  the  majefly  of  tri- 
bunals, and  the  terror  of  flames. 

It  is  this  evil  which  I  propofe,  from  the  text, 
to  explain  and  condemn. 

I.  By  pointing  out  what  is  implied  in  being  a- 
ihamed  of  Chrift,  and  of  his  words. 


2i6  SMITH. 

II.  By  demonftrating  its  folly  and  its  guilt. 

I.  In  pointing  out  what  is  implied  in  being  a- 
fhamed  of  Chrili,  and  of  his  words,  I  fhall  treat  of 
the  feiitiment  of  ihdimc  diredlly — and  unfold  fome 
of  its  principal  raii/es — and  its  confequences,  as  they 
afFed:  the  profeflion  of  Religion. 

I .   In  the  firft  place,  the  fentiment  of  fhame — 
This,  like  other  fimple  feelings  and  emotions  of 
the  human  mind,  cannot  be  eaiily  underftood,  ex- 
cept by  exciting  the  perception,  and  calling  to 
mind  theoccafions  on  which  we  have  mofl  fenfi- 
bly  felt  its  conftraints. — Let  us  recolledt  thofe  fea- 
fons  in  which  a  fmful  regard  to  the  obfervation  of 
men  has  tempted  us  to  decline  the  duty  to  which 
we  have  been   urged  by  our  own  hearts — or,  in 
which  we  have  gone  into  criminal  compliances 
with  the  world,  through  a  weaknefs  of  mind,  that 
was  unable  to  fupport  the  prefence,  or  to  contra- 
dict the  opinions  of  our  fellow  finners.  Let  young 
perfons,   particularly,  recolledi:  their  fears,  left  it 
fhould  be  known  that  they  worfhip  God,  and  pay 
to  the  Creator  the  firft  duty  of  a  creature. — Recoi- 
led: what  it  is  that  fometimes  clothes  you  with  a 
light  and  thoughtlefs  air  in  the  houfe  of  God,  a- 
fraid  to  be   ferious,  left  you  fhould   appear  too 
^    much  to  believe  the  gofpel,  or  to  be  affeded  by  its 
truths.     When,  at  any  time,  the  divine  word  be- 
gins to  fcize  upon  your  hearts,  what  is  it  that  ex- 
crttfs^'you  to  fliake  oft' the  convidion  ?    And,  when 
almoft  perfuaded  to  be  a  Chriftian,  what  withholds 


SMITH.  ^l^ 

you  from  being  perfuaded  altogether? — It  is JLamr. 
You  are  afraid  the  world  will  remark  it — the 
world  whofe  prefence  weighs  more  with  you  thaa 
the  authority  of  an  invifible  Deity.  If  you  feel 
the  compundtions  of  repentance,  you  fear  left  they 
ihould  be  imputed  to  melancholy,  or  to  weakrxefs. 
If  you  perceive  the  duty  and  importance  of  mak- 
ing falvation  your  firft  care,  and  of  honoring  your 
Saviour  by  a  public  profeflion  of  his  name,  yet, 
you  want  the  neceffary  refolution  to  encounter  th^ 
world — to  meet  the  fneers  of  your  companions — 
their  looks  of  fufpicion,  their  hints  of  hypocrify, 
their  prefages  of  inconftancy. — Thus  may  every 
hearer  undcrftand  this  fentmient  by  recalling  to 
imind  the  occafions  on  which  he  has  felt  it,  and  on 
which  it  has  checked  his  delires,  or  deftroyed  hi-^ 
refolutions  of  duty. 

2.1  fhall  further  illuftrate  it,  by  pointing  our 
fomc  of  its  principal  caufes,  Thefe  may  be  reduc- 
ed to  the  three  that  follow — the  pain  of  fmgulari- 
ty — the  power  of  ridicule — the  want  of  finceiity. 

Singularity  is  always  painful  to  an  ingenuous 
mind.  It  feems  to  hold  us  out  as  exceptions  from 
the  general  law  of  human  nature — -as  infenfible  to 
its  feelings—and  worthy  neither  of  the  affeclions, 
nor  of  the  confidence  of  mankind.  Singularity  al- 
ways attrads  the  cenfure  of  the  world ;  or,  by  con- 
tradidling  general  pradicc,  or  opinions,  it  invites 
contempt.  The  public  manners  have  numbers 
on  their  fide,  fufficient  to  brand  with  ignominy 

D  d 


'■'.*■ 


2i8  S    M    I    T    H. 

whatever,  by  differing  from  therrij  implies  their 
condemination.  Superfiition,  contra dlion  of  fen- 
timent,  weaknefs  of  mind,  illiberality  of  heart,  are 
the  mildefl  reproaches  that  fafliionable  difnpation 
beflows  on  piety  that  dares  to  be  fingular.  Wealth 
and  power,  objedls  before  which  the  human  mind 
is  prone  to  bow,  being  too  often  on  the  fide  of  vi- 
cious fafhion,  give  it  great  advantage  in  ertablifh- 
ing  wrong  ideas  of  honor  and  difgrace.  And  be- 
caufe  the  multitude  of  men  of  fcience,  like  the 
vulgar  multitude,  are  frequently  on  the  fame  inter- 
efts,  even  philofophy  and  wit  have  been  preffed 
into  its  fervice  by  thefe  its  obedient  fons.  To 
withfland  fo  many  formidable  enemies,  is  an  ar- 
duous tafk,  even  for  confirmed  virtue.  Little  is 
the  wonder  then,  if  firft  refolutions  in  Religion 
Ihould  be  fliaken  by  them ;  and  if  the  young 
Ihould  fometimes  not  have  fortitude  to  bear  up  a- 
gainfl  them.  To  be  fmgular  in  piety,. is  to  dare 
incur  contempt  for  the  defpifed  crofs.  A  hard  fa- 
crifice  this  for  human  pride !  and  efpecially  for 
juvenile  virtue ! — Many  more  are  found  who  are 
ready  to  forfake  the  Saviour,  than  who  have  firm- 
nefs  of  mind  fufficient  to  overcome  the  conftraints 
of  a  falfe  fliame.  Imperious  fafhion,  both  in  con- 
dud:  and  opinion,  will  for  ever  fway  the  worldly 
heart.  To  rife  above  its  influence  requires  an  ex- 
traordinary zeal  in  Religion,  that  fecms  to  annihi- 
late the  temptations  of  the  world,  or  a  long  and 
refpeCled  charadier  in  Religion,  that  gives  a  man 
authority  over  his  own  acflions.  But,  in  the  com- 
mencement of   a  religious   life,     and    before  a 


SMITH.  019 

chara^lcr  in  piety  hath  become  appropriated 
and  facred,  for  a  man  to  enter  into  the  fociety  of 
his  companions  with  referve — to  go  with  it  only 
a  certain  length — to  feem  to  enjoy  it  with  con- 
ftraint — to  reproach  them  by  more  fevere  and  cor- 
rected morals — and  to  incur  their  fufpicion,  oblo- 
quy, or  contempt,  requires  uncommon  prudence, 

and  uncommon  fortitude. How  often  does  the 

difmaying  power  of  fhame  fubdue  the  heart  be- 
fore fo  many  difficulties ! 

Another  fource  of  falfe  (Iiame  is  found  in  the 

pozu'er  of  ridicule. 

Ridicule  is,  perhaps,  the  fcvcreft  alTault  which  a 
man,  about  to  enter  upon  duty,  is  called  to  fufrain. 
It  is  apt  to  difmay  and  humble  him  much  more 
than  the  coolnefs  ofcontempt,  or  the  violence  of 
power.  So  fenlible  of  its  force  are  fome  infidels, 
that  with  this  weapon  alone  do  they  attack  Chrif- 
tianity,  which  they  have  fo  long  in  vain  afTailed  by 
reafon.  It  is  a  fpeci.es  of  attack  v/hich  every  man 
can  ufe  againft  Religion,  becaufe  all  can  laugh, 
though  few  can  reafon.  It  can  be  ufed  againft 
Religion  with  peculiar  fuccefs,  becaufe  its  perfec- 
tions are  often  invifible  to  fenfe,  or  withdrawn 
from  the  view  ;  while  the  imperfcdlions  of  its  pro- 
felTors,  which  are  miftaken  for  it,  are  obvious  to 
every  eye. — Tht faints  I — the  hypocrites ! — the  weak 
fools  I — are  titles  that  will  furnifli  abundant  fources 
of  amufement  to  thofe  who  miftake  names  for  cha- 
racers,  and  laughter  for  tc/V  :    And,  when  other 


220  SMI    T    H. 

matter  fails,  mimickry,  the  lowefi:  fpecies  of  ridi- 
cule, comes  in  with  a  thoufand  malicious  and  falfe 
additions,  to  drefs  out  the  lafl:  fcenes  of  impious 
diverfion.  The  wife  and  experienced  Chriftian 
arrives  at  length,  to  feel  his  fuperiority  over  thefe 
ludicrous  attacks — but  the  young  and  inexperi- 
enced find  them  almoft  irrelillible.  They  feel  the 
humiliating  contempt  of  laughter — they  are  de- 
graded in  their  own  efleem — ridicule  difmays  them 
- — a  fenfelefs  fmilc  fubdues  their  hearts — and  be- 
fore a  fmful  generation,  they  are  aJJoamed  of  Chriji^ 
md  of  his  words. 

In  the  confcioufnefs  of  want  ofjincerity,  we  find 

,  another  caufe  of  that  w^eak  fhame  which  is  prone 

to  deny,  or  to  difguife,  our  reverence  for  Religion, 

Pretences  to  an  unfupported  charader  are,  in  the 
higheft  degree,  diflionorable  and  reproachful.  The 
world,  that  differs  in  fo  many  things  from  the  dif- 
ciples  of  Chriff,  agrees  with  them  in  condemning 
vijihle  hypocyijy.  Many  young  perfons,  dreading 
the  contempt  that  is  due  to  this  charadler,  are  de- 
terred from  making  a  declared  choice  of  Religion, 
Confcious  that  a  condudt  grave,  devout  and  holy, 
fhould  accompany  the  profelfion  of  piety,  and  fear- 
ing left  they  want  that  fincere  and  courageous 
zeal,  which  will  enable  them  to  make  fuch  a  refo- 
lute  and  confpicuous  change  of  life,  as  becomes 
the  followers  of  Chrift,  they  decline  to  appear 
openly  for  his  caufe  ;  they  are  afraid  of  difcover- 
jng  for  it  that  reverence  and  attachment  which 


SMITH.  ^21 

they  really  feel,  left  they  fliould  not  be  able  to  fup- 
port  the  profefTioii  with  uniformity  and  conliften-^ 
cy. — Ah  1  my  brethren,  if  our  hearts  were  lincere, 
the  importance  and  glory  of  divine  things  would 
at  once  decide  our  choice,  and  overcome  the  ap- 
prehenfions  of  being  ever  willing  to  facrifice  them 
to  worldly  interefts,  or  to  worldly  pleafures ;  to 
the  folicitations,  or  the  fneers  of  men.  But  infin- 
cerity  fears  the  reproach  of  hypocrify,  more  than 
it  fears  hypocrify  itfelf— infmcerity  (brinks  from 
the  opinion  of  a  worm,  but  does  not  tremble  before 
the  juflice  of  the  Creator — infmcerity  is  afhamed 
of  our  glory,  in  the  midft  of  fmners  who  are  for- 
ever glorying  in  their  fhame  1 

3.  The  confideration  of  the  effeclSy  as  well  as  the 
canfes  of  this  principle,  will  aflift  in  explaining  its. 
nature. 

One  cf  the  mod  certain  confequences  of  being 
afhamed  of  duty,  is  to  lead  to  boldnejs  and  audacity 
in  vice.  Shame  is,  perhaps,  the  evidence  of  a.mid- 
die  charadier,  neither  virtuous  nor  abandoned.  It 
is  always  accompanied  with  fomc  remaining  re- 
verence for  God.  But,  judging  from  the  licenti- 
ous face  of  the  world,  that  other  fmners  are  not 
fubjed:  to  the  fame  conftraints,  it  bluflics  for  this 
fentimcnt,  as  for  a  weaknefs.  Endeavoring  to  co- 
ver its  belief,  or  its  fears,  it  affumes  a  greater  fliew 
of  infidelity  and  licenfe  than  perhaps  is  real.  It 
foon  affeds  to  talk  in  the  ftile  of  the  world — to  di- 
vert itfelf  with  ferious  perfons,  and  at  length,  with 
fcrious  things — it  gives  hints  of  libertinifm,  which 


222  SMITH. 


it  rcprcfents  as  fuperiority  to  vulgar  prejudice — 
it  fometirncs  pufhes  thefc  appearances  farther  than 
would  be  neceilciry,  if  men  were  really  infidels,  to 
fecurc  tothemfelvcs,  without  controverfy,  that  ho- 
norable charadler.  But  confcious  infincerity  ur- 
ges them  to  extremes  to  cover  its  own  deceptions. 
And  men  being  prone  to  form  their  opinions,  no 
kfs  than  to  derive  their  feelings,  from  fympathy, 
thefe  mutual  appearances  contribute  to  create,  at 
length,  that  vice  and  infidelity  to  which  all,  in  the 
beginning,  only  pretend.  It  is,  befides,  a  princi- 
ple of  human  nature,  that  pretence  itfclf,  will  ul- 
timately form  thofe  difpolitions  and  habits,  which 
it  continues  to  affetit. 

But  if  fliame,  more  modefily  refolves  not  to  re- 
nounce but  to  pofipone  the  care  of  our  falvation  ;  is 
there  not  reafon  to  fear,  that  this  unhappy  refolu- 
tion  will  eventually  come  to  the  fame  ifliie  ?  Need 
I  repeat  in  this  alTembly  the  ufual  fruits  of  delay  ? 
Ah  !  my  brethren,  men  always  find  the  fame  rea- 
fons  for  delaying — and  thofe  who,  through  a  falfe 
fliame,  and  fear  of  the  world,  poftpone  their  duty, 
may  ufually  be  conlidered,  in  effedl,  as  refolving  to 
renounce  it. 

If  confcience,  however,  or,  if  other  motives 
prevail  with  fome  men,  who  are,  nothwithftanding, . 
under  the  iniiuence  of  a  criminal  flDamey  openly  ta 
acknowledge  their  Saviour ;  will  it  not,  often,  cor- 
rupt the  principles,  and  pervert  the  fpirit  of  Re- 
ligion ?  They  lludy  to  accommodate  their  fpirit 


S    M    I    T    H.  '  213 

and  principles  to  the  opinions  and  manners  of  the 
world  ;  that  the  world,  feeing  nothing  in  their  pi- 
ety but  its  own  imager  may  ceafe  to  reproach  them. 
Piety  becomes  with  them  prudential  maxims  of 
behaviour.  The  diftingu idling  doctrines  of  the 
gofpcl,  the  denial  of  ourfelves,  the  reg.en£i-ation  of 
the  heart,  and  fpirituality  of  life,  are  little  to  be 
obferved  in  perfons,  who  are  afraid  of  nothing  (o 
much  as  of  being  remarked  for  religious  fingularity ; 
and  who  aim  no  higher  than  to  pay  the  fame  cere- 
monious refped:  to  the  church,  which  they  do  to 
the  world.  Left  their  piety  iliould  be  reproached 
as  fuperftition,  they  are  careful  perhaps,  to  make 
it  underftood,  that  they  do  not  place  too  high  a 
value  on  the  public  inftitutions  of  Religion — Left 
it  ftiould  be  derided  as  enthuliafm,  do  they  not  ba- 
nifh  from  their  devotion,  all  appearances  of  zeal  ? 
Left  they  fhould  incur  the  imputation  of  a  narrow, 
or  illiberal  mind,  do  they  not  often  run  fo  far  into 
the  principles  and  manners  of  a  dilTolute  age,  that 
hardly  can  you  difcern,  that  they  are  the  friends  of , 
Religion  F 

Having  thus  far  confidered,  what  is  implied  in 
being  "aftiamedof  Chrift,  and  of  his  words" — 
I  proceed, 

IL  To  ftiew  its  folly  and  its  guilt — Of  him  alfo 
fball  the  Son  of  Man  he  afhamed. 

T\it  folly  and  the  guilt  of  this  vice  are  reciprocal.  . 
They  mutually  contribute  to  illuftrate,  and  aggra- 
vate each  other.     In  this  connexion,  its  folly  de- 


^24  s  M  I  T  ir. 

ferves,  in  the  firji  place,  to  be  confidered  with  the 
molt  ferious  attention. It  confifis, 

1.  In  being  afhamed  of  our  true  glory. 

2.  In  hoping  to  avoid,  by  renouncing  Religion, 
an  evil  which  cannot  be  iLunned  among  men,  I 
mean,  detraction  and  ridicule. 

3.  In  fearing  an  imaginary  evil,  that  is,  re- 
proach for  real  virtue  and  piety. 

4.  And,  finally,  in  expofing  ourfelves  to  infinite 
danger,  for  the  fake  of  covering  a  fruitlefs  decep- 
tion. 

I.  It  conflfl's,  in  the  firft  place,  in  being  alhani- 
ed  of  our  true  glory. 

What  is  the  higheji  glory  of  man  ? — Whether  we 
confider  ourfelves  as  creatures,  as  finners  to  be  re- 
deemed, or  as  moral  agents,  the  moll  important 
lights  in  which  we  can  be  viewed ;  our  glory  and 
our  duty  are  the  fame — Obedience  to  the  Creator, 
gratitude  to  the  Saviour,  and  conformity  to  the 
laws  of  our  nature. 

If  God  is  our  parent,  and  the  author  of  our  be- 
ing, doth  not  every  idea  of  duty  and  of  honor  re- 
quire us  to  worfhip  him,  and  publicly  to  claim  our 
relation  to  him?  On  the  worthy  and  obedient 
child,  the  virtues  of  the  parent  are  refiedled,  and 
every  related  objed:  derives  a  fplendor  from  the 
dignity  of  the  principal.  But  examine  all  the 
things  on  earth,  that  are  the  fubjeds  of  human 


S    M    i    T    M.  225 

boafting,  and  are  they  not  in  his  prefence,  tefs  than 
nothing  and  vanity?— -O  God!  the  univcrfal  Fa- 
ther ! — Origin  of  Being  ! — Fountain  of  good  ! 

in  union  to  thee — in  conformity  to  thine  image— ^ 
in  obedience  to  thy  will,  confifts  the  glory  of  the 
rational  and  moral  nature  !  To  be  afhamed  of  thee, 
is  not  the  abfui-dity  only,  but  the  madnefs  of  hu- 
man folly  I 

Gratiiiule  to  the  Saviour,  is  the  fecond  duty,  and 
the  fecond  honor  of  man.  To  fhew  a  defed:  of 
gratitude  where  it  is  juflly  due,  is  a  decifive  proof 
of  a  degenerate  and  ignoble  mind.  But  the  great-* 
nefs  and  condefcenfion  of  the  Redeemer— the 
meannefs  and  the  guilt  of  man,  concur,  in  this 
cafe,  to  impofe  a  boundlefs  claim  on  our  gratitude 
and  love.  Is  i-t  not  our  true  glory,  my  brethren, 
to  feel,  with  all  their  force,  the  infinite  obligations 
created  by  redemption  ? — Is  it  not  our  glory,  to 
acknowledge  them  with  warmer  gratitude,  in  pro- 
portion, as  they  are  forgotten,  or  negled:ed  by  the 
world  ? — Yes,  this  is  the  diciate  of  a  true,  a  gcne-^ 
rous,  a  grateful,  as  well  as  pious  heart. 

Lafily,  the  honor  of  man  coniids  in  fulfilling  the 
end  of  Gur  beings  \\'\{iq\\  is  the  will  of  God.  Bun 
this  weak  principle y  which  makes  him  defert  his 
duty,  changes,  at  the  fame  time,  and  degrades  his 
rational  and  moral  natu»*e,  and  finks  them  from 
their  original  and  native  glory  ;  the  one,  to  a  re- 
fcmblance  of  brutal  natures,  the  other,  to  an  image 
of  infernal  fprlts. — Oman!  ambitious  of  glory  I 

E  c 


226  SMITH. 

afraid  of  nothing  fo  much  as  of  difgrace  1  Unwifc 
and  foolira  man  !  thou  art  afhamed  of  thy  glory  ! 
and  thou  gloried  in  thy  fliame  ! 

2.  The  folly  of  being  afhamed  of  our  duty,  ap- 
pears, in  the  next  place,  in  vainly  hoping  to  avoid, 
by  renouncing  Religion,  an  evil,  v/hich  cannot  be 
iliunned  among  men ;  I  mean,  detraction  and  ri- 
dicule. 

What  is  the  world  but  a  vafl"  theatre,  where  en- 
vy and  malice  are  perpetually    Iharpening    the 
tongues  and  the  wit  of  men  again  ft  each  other  ? 
What  is  half  the  intercourfe  of  life  but  a  fcene  of 
obloquy  and  fneer,  where  the  characters  of  the 
abfent  are  the  c  onftant  facrifice  to  the  vanity  of 
the  prefent  ?  Wherever  you  have  rivals,  and  that 
is,  wherever  you  have  acquaintance  of  the  fame 
fex,  or  age,  or  profeflion  with  yourfelf,  you  find 
thofe  whofe  weak  minds  have  no  other  means  of 
exalting  themfelves  but  by  deprefling  you.  Change 
then  your  life — you  only  change  the  fubjedof  dif- 
courfe.     You  cannot  gain,  by  continuing  of  the 
party  of  finners,  what  you  fear  to  lofe,  by  embrac- 
ing the  caufe  of  Religion — their  friendfhip  or  their 
good  opinion.     And  why  fliould  you  fear,  in  the 
fervice  of  God  alone,  an  evil  to  which  you  mufl 
be  equally,  or  even  more  expofed,  by  remaining  in 
the  mterelfs  of  the  world  ? — I  fay  more  expofed  ; 
for  it  greatly  augments  the  folly  of  this  fin. 

3.  In  the  next  place ;  that  while  it  incurs  a  real, 
it  flics  from  m  imaginary  evil.     It  fears  reproach 


S    M    I    T    H.  227 

for  Religion,  when,  in  reality,  the  world  has  no  re- 
proach to  make;  when,  inflead  of  dcfpifing,  //  re- 
fpe^s  the  beautiful  and/upported  character  of  piety, 

Wifdom  and  goodnefs,  rightly  underdood,  can 
never  be  the  objedis  of  ridicule  or  cenfure.  They 
vindicate  themfeivcs  to  the  judgment  and  con- 
fcience,  even  of  the  vicious.  Mifreprefentation, 
to  which  an  honeft  mind  fliould  ever  be  fuperior, 
is  here  the  only  ground  of  reproach.  And  what 
can  even  mifrepre  fen  tat  ion  alledge.'* — That,  m 
youth,  it  is  an  affedalion  of  wifdom  and  virtue,  a- 
bove  your  companions  and  above  your  years  ? — 
Alas  !  can  any  age  be  too  early  to  be  wife,  and  to 
feek  for  real  and  durable  felicity? — If  the  multi- 
tude of  your  companions  afford  fe;w  examples  of 
piety,  is  it  not  the  greater  honor  to  rife  to  a  de- 
gree of  wifdom,  rarely  attained  even  in  mature  life, 
and  at  an  age  in  v/hich  we  think  it  much  if  you 
learn  with  docility,  to  be  able  already  to  give  an 
example  worthy  of  imitation  ? — Will  the  world 
bufy  itfelf  to  find  out  falfe  motives  for  your  change? 
Let  fuch  malice  ferve  only  to  difguft  you  the  more 
with  a  world,  the  true  charaAcr  of  which,  you 
are  now  jufl  beginning  to  difccrn. — Will  they  fay 
with  a  fneer,  the  faints  !  the  hypocrites  !  the  weak 
fools  !  Ah  !  this  zeal  will  not  laft  long! — Let  fuch 
ungenerous  infults  only  determine  your  refolution, 
more  firmly  to  fupport  the  dignity  of  Religion,  by 
the  integrity  of  your  condudi,  and  by  perfeverance 
iw  virtue.  If  you  do  thus,  be  afTured  that  the  world 
itfelf,  after  proving  your  lincerity,  and  fpcnding 


22'6  S      M      I      T      II. 

its  firfl  refentments  upon  you,  for  having  forfakf  n 
its  parry,  will  regard  you  with  reverence  and  ef- 
teem.  It  is  not  indeed  Religion,  but  iniincerity 
and  hypocnfy  they  defpife.  If  then  you  would 
filencc  obloquy,  and  obtain  an  honorable  place  in 
their  hearts,  be  not  afliamed  of  the  dodlrines  of 
Chrift.  But  you  muft  be  careful  to  mix  with  your 
Religion,  nothing  weak  or  fuperftitious ; — no- 
thing libertine  or  worldly — Do  not  refenible  too 
rr^uch  the  man  of  the  world — //  is  their  own  ima^e 
which  they  defpife  in  a  Chriftian.  Perfevere  in  the 
path  of  duty.  They  will  convert  contempt  or  ha- 
'  tred  into  veneration — they  will  applaud  your  re- 
folution — they  will  envy  your  deftiny — and  if  they 
cannot  bring  their  lives  to  refemble  you,  they  will 
fecretlyfigh,  that  their  end  may  be  like  yours. 

4.  The  folly  of  this  evil  confifls,  in  the  lail  place, 
in  its  expofing  us  to  infinite  danger,  for  the  fake  of 
covering  a  fruiilefs  deception, 

Whofoever  fhall  be  afhamed  of  me,  and  of  my  "coords^ 
faid  the  Saviour,  of  him  alfofball  the  Son  of  Man  he 
(jflamed, — Wo  to  that  man,  of  whom  the  Son  fhall 
be  afhamed  !  God,  when  offended,  might  be  re- 
conciled through  his  atonement.  But,  when  the 
Saviour  is  rejected,  there  rcmaineth  no  more f aerifies 
forftns. 

Is  this  the  ifTue  of  being  afhamed  of  the  gof- 
pel  ? — Is  this  the  reward  of  that  frivolous  honour 
which  we  would  preferve  in  the  opinion  of  a  cor- 
rupted WQrJdj  by  renouncing  virtue  ? — Is  this  the 


SMITH.  ?29 

fruit  of  that  criminal  deception  which  we  ftrive  to 
maintain,  by  unworthy  pretences  againft  the  flrug- 
gling  fcnfc  of  inward  duty  ? — do  we  derive  from  it 
even  prefent  gain,  to  make  a  momentary  compen- 
fation,  for  the  eteryiallofs  ? — No,  worldly  reputation 
and  intereft  are,  when  rightly  coniidered,  in  favour 
of  Religion.  But  when  the  foul — when  the  hopes 
efjalvaiion — when  the  judgment  of  God^  are  put  in 
the  balance  againfl  a  Jlander,  a  fneer^  a  fufpicion,  a 
bok  of  miferable  mortals,  and  outweighed — Oh  1 
infinite  folly !  My  brethren,  eternity  alone  can 
difclofe  it  in  its  full  magnitude ;  when  we  fhall 
fee,  in  the  dreadful  light  of  everlafting  burnings, 
the  vanity  of  human  opinion,  and  all  the  terrors  of 
that  denunciation,  ofhijn  aljojhall  the  Son  of  Man  he 
afhamed. 

Secondly,  having  endeavored,  in  few  words,  to 
jlluftrate  the  folly  of  being  afhamed  of  Religion,  I 
fliall,  with  equal  brevity,  illuflrate /Vj-^W//.  Its 
guilt  confids  in  exalting  the  authority  of  man  a- 
bove  the  glory  of  God — in  ingratitude  to  him, 
who  was  not  afhamed  of  us — and  in  promoting 
vice  by  the  pernicious  influence  of  our  example. 

I.  In  exalting  the  authority  of  man  above  the 
glory  of  God. 

His  infinite  perfeBion,  independently  on  his 
rights  as  our  Creator,  has  a  fupreme  claim  to  our 
adoration  and  love.  He  is  infinitely  inore  zvorthy 
than  any  of  his  creatures,  of  the  fervent  and  entire 
devotion  of  our  hearts.  He  who  hath  created  the 
powers  of  underflanding  and  enjoyment,  is  able  i.o 


330  S    M    I    T    H. 

fill  them  with  confummate  and  eternal  confol:- 
tions.  Not  to  love  him,  therefore — not  to  make 
his  glory  predominant  over  all  other  objecls,  is  an 
evidence  that  the  heart  is  blind  to  moral  beauty, 
and  corrupted  in  all  its  affedions.  But,  to  make 
man  the  arbiter  of  our  duty  to  God — to  make  the 
divine  glory  (loop  to  the  pleafure,  or  opinionof  a 
miferable  worm,  is  a  crime  beyond  expreffion.  Its 
malignity  is  to  be  eflimated,  from  the  perfection 
of  him  who  is  oifended  ;  and,  like  that,  it  is  in- 
finite. 

2.  The  guilt  of  this  fin  confifls,  in  the  next 
place,  in  ingratitude  to  him  who  was  not  afliam- 
€d  of  us. 

Ingratitude  to  a  benefadlcr  is  among  the  moft 
detefted  vices.  If  the  ingratitude  of  men,  for  the 
bleiTings  of  falvation,  ftrikes  us  with  lefs  horror, 
Ihan  other  examples  of  this  fin,  it  is  becaufe  wr 
are  involved  in  the  common  crime — it  is  becaufe 
we  do  not  difcern  in  the  light  of  faith,  the  infinite 
diftance  between  the  Creator  and  the  creature. — 
But  when  he  defcends  from  his  eternal  throne — 
when  the  incarnate  deity  fubmits  to  fufFer — when 
the  divine  glory  was  not  aftiamed  of  human  weak- 
nefs,  that  finners  fhould  be  alliamed  of  him — be 
aftonifhed  O  Heavens,  at  this !  And  tremble  thou 
Earth,  who  beareft  in  thy  hofom  fuch  guilt ! 

It  has  fometimes  been  afked,  by  thofe  who  arc 
not  willing  to  m.ake  great  facrifices,  whether  wc 
may  not  acquit-  ourfelvcs  of  duty  in  fecret,  with- 


SMITH.  23t 

out  expofing  our  profeflion  to  the  view  of  thofe 
who  would  injiilt  or  deride  it  ? — I  anfwcr,  no. — 
Sincerity  glories  in  its  objedl :  And  when  God  is 
the  objedl,  the  foul,  occupied  in  the  bleiTednefs  of 
its  portion,  forgets,  in  a  meafure,  the  applaufe  or 
cenfureof  the  world — his  glory  will  be  a  fufficicnt 
portion  when  the  world  frowns — the  fenfe  of  his 
love  will  fupport  the  heart  againd:  the  fear  of  its 
reproach.  Shame  to  that  worldly  prudence  that 
IS  afhamed  of  its  God ! 

Shall  fin,  the  difgrace  of  our  nature,  walk  a- 
mong  us  with  elevated  and  impudent  forehead  ? — • 
And  fliall  Religion,  the  glory  of  the  reafonable 
foul,  blufh  and  retire,  left  the  profane  eyes  of 
men,  dazzled  with  its  beauty,  fhould  not  be  able  to 
endure  the  fight. 

3.  Its  guilt  confifls,  in  the  laft  place,  in  pro- 
moting vice,  by  the  pernicious  influence  of  our 
example. 

Example  is  contagious — and  the  world  be- 
comes more  corrupted,  from  the  vice  that  is  alrea- 
dy in  it.  To  decline  the  profeflion  of  Religion 
through  falfe  fhame,  is,  in  fome  refpeds,  more  in- 
jurious to  the  interefls  of  virtue  in  the  world,  than 
open  impiety.  This,  fometimes,  prevents  imita- 
tion, b>  a  certain  horror  at  its  enormity. — That, 
by  preferving  greater  decency,  more  elfedlually  in- 
•fmuates  its  poifon.  Your  example  proclaims  your 
unbelief,  or  your  contempt  of  the  gofpel ;  and  in- 
vites others  to  receive  it  with  incredulity,  or  to 


232  S    M    I    T    R 

treat  it  with  fcorn.  In  account  of  the  divine 
juftice,  ibe  depravity  and  perhaps  the  perdition  ofma- 
fiyfinners,  (hall  be  charged  to  that  criminal  Ihame, 
■which  alienates  you  from  the  life  of  God,  andjloall 
go  to  augment  your  guilt. 

In  the  conclufion  of  this  difcourfe,  permit  me  to 
remark,  that  although  divine  grace  alone  can  ef- 
feclually  fecure  the  heart,  and  raife  it  above  the 
influence  of  a  falfe  and  unholy  (liame  ;  yet  it  will 
greatly  contribute  to  this  happy  effed,  to  have 
early  eflablifhed  juft  ideas  of  honor  and  Ihame,  by 
a  well  diredlied  education.  It  is  of  great  impor- 
tance, in  the  beginning  of  life,  to  pre-occupy  the 
mind  by  good  impreflions — to  teach  it  to  rever- 
ence God,  before  it  has  yet  feen  the  beauties  of  ho- 
linefs — to  honor,  before  it  has  learned  to  love  reli- 
gion— and  to  prepare  it  to  defpife,  before  it  has  ar- 
rived to  deteft  the  vices  and  the  follies  of  the  world. 
It  is  of  the  greater  importance,  becaufe  our  habits 
and  opinions  are  conftantly  and  imperceptiblj 
forming,  by  all  that  we  fee  and  hear.  If  Religion 
docs  not  early  impart  fuch  as  are  rational  and  juft, 
the  world  will  neceffarily  prcpoiTefs  the  mind  with 
fuch  as  are  pernicious  and  falle.  Falfe  fliame  will 
withhold  it  from  the  influence  of  piety — falfe  ho- 
nor will  raife  up  within  it  the  mod  dangerous  en- 
emies to  falvation. 

Let  parents  and  infl:ru6tors,  therefore,  be  dili- 
gent to  difcharge  their  duty  with  fidelity  to  the 
rifing  generation.  The  mofl:  happy  fruits  will  re- 
ward your  prudent  and  honeft  zeal.  Refled:  what 


■S    M    i    T    U,  i^5 

advantages  you  enjoy,  when  you  plead  the  caufc 
of  piety  againfl  vice— and  of  Mciiven  ngainf!  t\\c 
world.     What' can  be  more  glorious  than  the  fcr-^^ 
vice  of  the  King  of  Kings  ?  What  more  great  txnd 
worthy  than  virtue,  which  brings  to  perfe(5i:ioii  nil 
the  befl:  and  noblcH  principles  of  humaii  nature  ? 
Religion  is  the  true  glory  as  well  as  happinefs  of 
tnan.     It  is  lin  only  that  is  his  real  ihame. — It  14, 
filled,  befides,  with   unfpeakable  datngcr,  and'  is 
fpeedily  tending  to  eternal  ruin. 

Suffer  rtie  to  extend  a  little  this  idea.— It  is 
ilrongly  implied  in  the  cxprefiion  of  oui- Saviour, 

ofbhfj  alfo  fiall  the  Son  of  Man  he  aJJoaincd,  ivhenhe 
covteih  in  the  glcry  ofbi$  Father y  ivilh  the  holy  Angels. 
All  miferies  are  included  in  this  threatnino". — 

o 

When  God  condefcends  to  treat  the  linner  in  this 
language  of  farcaftic"  contetttpt,  it  ftfikcs  me  a^- 
the  moll  fearful  denunciation  of  divine  vengeance. 
Other  thrcatnings  fcem  more  definitely  to  mark 
their  penalties :  This  prefents  nothing  diftindly 
to  the  imagination,  but  holds  up  every  thing  molt 
terrible  to  our  fears. — Shall  I  call  up  to  view  the 
laft  tribunal  ?  The  Heavens  on  fire  ?  The  Earth 
ihaken,  and  moved  out  of  its  place?  The  ele- 
ments melting  with  fervent  heat  bef:^re  the  wrath 
of  God  and  of  the  Lamb.^ — Shall  I  fpeakof '77;- 
phet  that  is  ordained  of  old ^  the  pile  Tobereofis  fire 
and  much  zvood ;  and  the  breath  of  the  Lord  as  aftdwi 
cfbrimfione,  doth  kindle  it  F  And  fliall  I  not  fav,  after 
all,  that  his  mofl:  fearful  fentencc  is,  "  of  him  fis'dll 
the  [on  ofviav  he  afh>amedr' — This  is  indignant  juf- 

F  f 


234  SMITH. 

tice,  heightened  by  contempt.  The  flames  of  aiv- 
ger  may  confume  the  (inner — fhame  will  bury  him 
for  ever  from  his  fight. — What!  banifhed  from 
thy  fight,  O  merciful  Saviour  of  men  1  This  is  in- 
deed the  blacknefs  of  everlafling  darknefs  ! 

Let  thofe  unhappy  men  who  are  afhamed  of 
Chrift,  and  of  his  words,  deeply  reflecfl  on  this 
dreadful  deftiny  ! — To  perfuade  you  to  this  wife 
and  neceifary  refolution,  is  the  whole  objed:  of  the 
prefent  difcourfe.  May  the  Spirit  of  God  add  to 
thefe  reflexions  his  own  evidence,  and  his  almigh- 
ty energy  !  May  he  impart  to  us  a  wife  efl:imate 
of  eternity  and  time  !  Of  the  opinions  of  men,  and 
the  approbation  of  God  ! — And  now  to  the  King 
eternal,  immortal,  and  invifible,  be  rendered, 
through  Jefus  Chrifl,  all  honor,  glory,  and  praifc, 
from  all  on  Earth,  and  all  in  Heaven  I    Amen  1 


SERMON     XIL 

On  the  forgiveness  of  INJURIES. 

B    Y 

SAMUEL     S.    SMITH,     D.  D, 

Col.  N.  C.  V.  P.  et  S.  T.  P. 


Matt.    Vi.    14. 

J^ye  forgive  men  their  trefpaffeSy  your  heavenly  Fa^ 
ther  will  al/o  forgive  you. 

THE  forgivenefs  of  injuries,  which  is  among 
the  molt  important  duties  of  morals,  and  to 
which  mankind  have  always  fubmitted  with  fo 
much  reluctance,  is  here  enforced  by  our  Saviour 
with  the  higheft  fandlion  of  Religion.  In  incul- 
cating this  great  law,  he  propofcs  the  mercy  of 
God  to  our  imitation,  he  recalls  to  memory  our 
offences  againfb  him,  that  this  humiliating  reflex- 
ion may  render  us  mild  and  indulgent  to  thofe  who 
have  offended  us— And  he  touches  the  deepeft 
fprings  of  intereff,  by  making  our  own  pardon 
from  God  depend  011  the  fpirit  with  which  we 
treat  others. 

Philofophy  has  often  recommended  the  con- 
tempt, but  rarely  the  fo rgivencf:i  of  injuries.     It; 


23^  SMITH. 

is  ci  do^irijpe  not,  indeed,  above  the  reach  of  rcafon  j 
but  reifeiv  iz  too  weak  ^o  eXlabUfa  it  as  a  general 
priiidiple  of  aclion.  It  required  the  auchority  of  ^ 
Divine  Legidator  to  enforce  the  duty,  in  this  ex- 
tent, on  the  pride,  or  the  meannefs  of  mankind. 

To  iliuflrate  this  duty  is  the  objed  of  the  fol- 
lowing difcourfc. — With  this  view,  I  propofe  to 
explain  its  jiaturc  and  extent — aad  to  (hew  that  it 
is  founded  in  the  juftefl:  reafon. 

I.  I  beg  your  attention,  therefore,  in  the  firfl 
place,  while  I  endeavor  to  illuilrate  the  nature  and 

extent  of  this  duty. 

TKe  fiiil  impuife,  ufually,  which  men  feel  on  re- 
ceiving an  injury,  is  to  revenge.  This  dark  and 
furious  pafTion  is  always  violent  and  extreme  in 
its  purpofes,  and  is  prone  to  juilify  its  exceffes  by 
rcprefenting  it^  objed  in  a  criminal  and  odious 
light.  It  outrages  the  divine  fpirit  of  charity,  and 
tends  to  rend  afunder  thofe  amiable  and  happy 
ties,  by  which  Gocl  would  unite  fociety  together, 
and  conrved  man  with  man.  To  prevent,  or  to 
coi'red  thefe  difordcrs,  Chridianity  hath  promul- 
f  od  the  law  of  forgivencfs.  This  law  compre- 
hends the  following  great  principles  of  duty — to 
love  our  enemies— and  to  return  good  for  evil. 

I.  To  love  our  enemies. — No  injury  can  cancel 
that  original  obligation  that  lies  on  all  mankind  to 
love  one  another.  Derived  from  one  origin — par- 
taking of  one  nature — united  in  the  fame  intered^' 
"-ai-d  heirs  of  the  fame  hopes,  they  are  connedA 


S    M    I    T    H.  237 

by  fo  many,  and  fuch  powerful  ties^  that  no  caufe 
can  be  fufficient  entirely  to  diflblve  thencij  or  to 
juin.fy  an  unforgiving  temper.  If  every  mau 
fhou.ld  conceive  himfelf  intitled  to  repay  injuftice 
with  hatred,  would  not  that  amiable  fpirit  be  de- 
ftroyed  which  was  intended  to  unite  the  world  to- 
gether, and  the  family  of  God  be  rent  with  irre- 
concilable dilTentions  ?  Hence,  he  requires  us  tci 
love  even  our  enemies— ^-to  regard  them  as  breth- 
ren-— to  fympathize  with  their  dillrefs— to  find  a- 
pologics  for  their  rafh  and  miftaken  refentments—- ^' 
and  to  pity  thofe  whofe  injuries  are  more  pernici-P 
ous  to  themfelves  than  to  u§. 

This  fpirit,  when  it  is  fincere,  will  not  be  re-» 
drained  to  thofe  enriotions  and  wilhes  of  a  good  and 
benevolent  heart,  that  are  confined  within  itfeif. 
It  will  feek  every  prudent  and  practicable  mean  of 
reconciliation.     It  is  the  law  ot    Chrift — if  ihoii. 
bring  thy  gift  to  the  altar ^  and  there  rernembereft  that 
thy  brother  hath  aught  againfi  theey  leave  there  thy  gift 
he/fore  the  altar^  and  go^firji  be  reconciled  to  thy  brother^ 
and  then  come  and  offef  thy  gift. — A  good  and  de- 
licate mind  will  feel  exquilite  pain  in  having  giv- 
vcn  even  involuntary  ofience--     If  innocent,  it  will 
be  folicitous  to  mal^e  thofe  explanations  that  may 
be  necelTary  to  remove  improper  prejudices  from 
a  brother's  breafb.    Or,  if  through  pre polTcf lion,  or 
the  tranfporrs  ofpailion,  it  hath  given  him  real 
caufc  of  umbrage,  it  will  not  be  too  haughty  to 
make  the  juft  and  reafonable   concefTions.     Nay, 
)\fcere  the  heart  of  a  brother  is  to  be  regained,  a 


'^■^.yi^.^. 


aj-B  SMITH. 

good  man  will  not  too  rigoroufly  examine  or  con- 
tend for  his  own  rights — he  will  difplay  a  certain 
generofity  in  his  advances,  which  is  the  didate  of 
a  benevolent  and  noble  mind,  confcious  of  the 
pureft  intentions. 

2.  To  forgive  injuries,  is  not  only  to  l(nje  our 
enemies,  but,  to  return  good  for  evil, — Blefs  thofe  who 
curfe you,  faith  Chrift,  do  good  to  thoje  who  hate  you,, 
and  pray  for  thofe  who  def pit  e fully  ufe  you,  and  ptrfe- 
cute  you.  If  thine  enemy  hunger  feed  him,  if  he  third 
give  him  drink;  for,  in  fo  doing,  thou  wilt  heap  coals 
of  fire  on  his  head— th^t  is,  thou  wilt  either  reclaim, 
him  by  the  painful  conviction  of  his  rafhnefs  and 
guilt ;  or  thou  wilt  dillblve  his  heart,  if  he  hath 
yet  a  heart  to  be  diflblved,  by  the  warm  perfuafiorr 
of  your  goodnefs.  If  there  be  a  v/ay  in  which  you 
can  render  him  eflential  fcrvice— by  fpeaking  well 
of  the  deferving  parts  of  his  charadler — by  draw- 
ing a  difcreet  veil  over  his  foibles — by  generoufl)^ 
producing  his  virtues  to  light — or  by  advancing 
his  fortunes,  you  will  not  only  fulfil  an  elevated 
duty  of  Religion,  but  probably  attach  him  forever 
as  an  ufeful  friend. 

It  may  be  demanded,  perhaps,  whether  this  doc- 
trine of  love  to  our  enemies,  requires  fuch  reliance- 
o^  their  virtue,  and  fuch  coniidence  in  the  ap- 
pearances of  reconciliation  as  might  put  us  too 
much  in  their  power  if  they  were  dcligning  and 
irtiincere. — By  no  means — Piety  is  not  inconfiftent 
with  prudence,  nor  the  mod  warm  and  generous 
charity  w4th  thofe  precautions  that  are  nccelTary 


S    M    IT    H.  239 

for  our  fafety.  You  may  pity,  you  may  affid,  you 
may  forgive,  you  may  love  an  enemy  before  you 
confide  in  him.  Experience  is  necelfary  to  lay  a 
ju(V  and  folid  foundation  for  trull.  Your  own 
duty  is  certain  and  clear — his  character  may  ftill 
be  dubious.  It  requires  time  and  variety  of  proof 
toalTure  us  fufficiently  of  the  integrity  and  good- 
nefs  of  others.  A  heart,  prompted  by  warm  be- 
nevolence, and,  at  the  fame  time,  under  the  direc- 
tion of  a  found  underftanding,  will  be,  on  this 
fubjed:,  the  beft  interpreter  of  the  divine  law. 

It  may  ferve,  however,  farther  to  illuftrate  the 
nature  and  extent  of  this  duty,  to  point  out  the 
falfe  principles  on  which  the  reconciliations  of  men 
often  turn  after  they  have  been  once  embroiled, 
and  the  falfe  fubftitutions  that  are  often  made  in 
the  room  of  the  forgivenefs  of  injuries. 

Falfe  principles  of  reconciliation  are  numerous 
and  various.  We  fee  it  fometimes  accompli  (bed 
with  diffkulty  by  the  afliduity  and  management  of 
common  friends,  who  ace  offended  at  the  exceifes 
to  which  it  is  carried,  or  afflidled  at  the  derange- 
ment it  occaiions  in  the  circle  of  their  fociety. 
The  parties,  perhaps,  fatigued  with  their  impor- 
tunity, or  afhamed  of  their  own  obdinacy,  yield  at 
length  to  their  remonftrances. — But,  obferve  with 
what  reludlance  they  come  together !  what  mu- 
tual coldnefs  and  diftruft  they  difcover  1  how  ma- 
ny punctilios  muft  be  adjufted  !  how  many  expla- 
nations muft  be  made !  how  many  compromifcs 
fiftuft  be  attempted,  evidently  calculated  to  fave  a 


i^o  SMITH. 

faife  id«t  ofhonot,  and  to  evade  the  genuine  fpirit 
of  evangelical  reconciliation !  Sometimes  it  is 
fought  merely  as  a  cover  from  the  perpetual  fhafts 
of  obloquy,  or  to  avoid  the  anxiety  and  difgrace  of 
eternal  fclf-vindication  and  recrimination.— Some- 
times to  fave  ourfelves  the  irkfomencfs  of  f^iun- 
ning,  or  the  awkwardnef^  of  meeting  in  the  fame 
companies.  How  often  in  the  numerous  and  ca-' 
pricious  changes  of  party  of  every  kind,  docs  an= 
unexpedted  coincidence  of  interefl'  reunite  men 
whom  an  accidental  oppofition  had  divided?  How 
often  hath  the  dilhonor  of  becoming  the  fubjecls 
of  public  fatire  or  mirth  induced  them  to  over- 
come or  reftrain  their  paiuons  ?  And  a  few,  per- 
haps, affecting  the  glory  of  moderation,  or  of  mag- 
nanimity, have  endeavored  not  fo  much  to  forgive 
as  to  fhew  a  fuperiority  to  injuries.  . 

Thefe  principles  contribute  to  preferve  a  cer-- 
tain  degree  of  order  and  union  in  human  fociety ; 
but  they  do  not  rife  to  that  elevation  and  purity 
which  is  required  by  the  gofpel.  They  are  imita- 
tions of  Religion,  not  its  genuine  fpirit — and  al- 
though they  may  be  employed  as  ufeful  auxiliaries 
of  piety,  yet,  if  they  are  the  fole  principles  of  ac- 
tion, their  value  is  deilroyed  by  the  felfiQinefs  and 
pride  with  which  they  are  accompanied.  \ou 
widely  miftake  if,  in  confequence  of  a  reconcilia- 
tion that  has  proceeded  upon  thefe  grounds,  you. 
imagine  you  have  forgiven  your  brother,  or  have 
fulfilled  the  views  of  the  law.  The  world  that 
judges  with  more  impartiality,  fees  you  are  not 


S    M    I    T    H.  241 

friends.  It  fees  in  your  converfation,  in  your  con- 
duel,  in  your  whole  manner,  a  fecret  coldncfs  and 
alienation  from  him  that  is  not  confident  with  the 
meeknefs,  the  benevolence,  and  the  difintcrefied 
fpirit  of  this  duty. — You  fliould  forgive  for  no  ob- 
lique or  felfilh  views — you  fliould  forgive  from  the 
principle  of  charity — you  fliould  forgive  for  the 
love  of  God — you  ihould  forgive  becaufe  you  need 
to  be  forgiven. 

I  (liall  now  illullrate  this  duty  farther,  by  con- 
fidering,  in  another  view,  the  falfe  fubflitutions 
that  are  often  made  in  the  room  of  the  forgivenefs 
of  injuries. 

The  firft  that  I  mention,  is  a  certain  apathy  of 
mind  that  hath  ceafed  to  feel  the  emotions  of  re- 
fcntment,not  becaufe  the  injury  is  forgiven,  but  be- 
caufe time  has  abated  our  fenfibility.  My  brethren, 
this  partakes  nothing  of  the  vivacitycf  true  charity. 
Charity  is  a  warm  and  a(5live  principle.  It  embra- 
ces a  forgiven  enemy  like  a  reconciled  brother — 
and  an  enemy  who  refufes  to  be  reconciled,  it  re- 
gards with  that  fpirit  of  meeknefs  and  benediction 
which  can  flov/  only  from  a  heart  touched  and 
animated  with  the  love  of  God. 

Another  fubftitute  is  a  reconciliation  merely  of- 
tenfible ;  and  a  return  to  the  exterior  decencies  of 
fociety,  v.hile  a  warm  remembrance cf  the  injury 
is  dill  cherilhed  in  the  bread. 

It  is  not  uncommon  to  fay,  I  forgive  him,  bun 
he  has  no  rcaibn  hereafter  to  relj'  upon  mv  friend- 


&: 


-4^  S    M    I    T    H. 

ihip.  My  brethren,  this  hint  is  too  infignificarrt; 
We  difcern  in  it  the  evident  fymptoms  of  an  ali- 
enated mind.  Is  this  to  forgive  ?  Does  love  thus 
Hudioufiy  cherifh  the  memory  of  an  offence  ?  Docs 
the  meek  temper  of  forgivencfs  thus  fvvell  the 
heart  with  a  proud  refentment  ?  True  forgivenefs 
imphes  much  m.ore  than  a  conllrained  and  artifi- 
cial fubmilTion  to  the  exterior  decencies  of  life. 
It  is  a  principle  that  unites  the  hearts  of  men  by 
the  inward  and  powerful  cement  of  divine  love,  and 
not  their  perfons  merely  by  the  ioofe  and  vulgar 
ties  of  ordinary  aiTociation. 

Another,  and  much  more  unjuflifiable  fubditurc 
for  this  duty,  is  arefolution,  indeed,  not  to  profe- 
€ute  an  open  and  public  revenge,  but  accompani- 
€d  at  the  fame  time,  with  a  purpofe  to  avoid,  to- 
wards the  oflender,all  the  common  civilities  of  life. 

Men  who  a6l  on  this  principle  feldom  mollify 
their  refentments  fo  far  as  to  fubmit  to  a  formal 
reconciliation.  Yet  becaufe  an  unforgiving  tem- 
per is  condemned  by  Religion,  and  flill  more,  be- 
caufe it  is  odious  to  the  world,  they  profefs  to  for- 
give, when  they  mean  only  they  will  not  profecute 
their  rage  to  extremes.  But  they  refufe  to  fee 
their  enemy — they  Hiun  the  companies  he  is  known 
to  frequent.  Wherefore?  Becaufe  his  prefence 
might  excite  painful  recolledlions,  or  create  an  em- 
barrafTment  that  would  dedroy  the  pleafure  of  (b- 
ciety.  My  brethren,  let  the  common  fenfe  of 
mankind  decide  upon  this  quefbion*    Can  w^  have 


S    M    I    T    H.  24', 


v> 


forgiven  our  brother  if  wc  exclude  him  from  our 
fight?  Ifiiis  prefenceftiU  irritates  ?  Ifitrecalls  ideas 
that  fhould  be  forgotten  ?  If  it  awakens  emotions 
that  fliould  be  compofcd  by  the  fpirit  of  love  ? — 
Certainly  not. 

The  la(l  fubftitute  which  I  fnall  mention  for  the 

forgivenefs,  is  tiiec(?«/(fw/?/ of  injuries. 

A  man  is  fo  clofely  connecfled  with  his  a^flions, 
that  it  is  difficult  to  dcfpife  his  vices,  vv'hich  is  per- 
mitted by  Religion,  v/ithout  defpifmg  his  perfon, 
which  is  not  permitted.  The  fentiment  of  fupe- 
riority  to  an  unworthy  adl  too  eafily  degenerates,  iii 
a  common  mind,  into  improper  pride.  And  fo 
foreign  from  true  charity  is  all  pride  and  haughtl- 
nefs  of  fpirit,  and  fo  difficult  is  it  not  to  involve  the 
j)erfon  in  our  idea  with  his  charadler  or  caufe,  that 
it  is  fafeil,  perhaps,  for  a  Ghriftian  to  regard  even 
the  vices  of  others  with  pity,  rather  than  with 
contempt. 

Having,  thus  fsr,  endeavored  to  explain  the  na- 
ture and  extent  of  forgiving  injuries,  and  pointed 
out  the  wTong  conceptions  v;hich  are  entertained 
of  it  by  mankind,  both  in  the  improper  principles 
of  their  reconciliations,  and  in  the  falfe  fubilitu- 
tions  which  they  are  prone  to  make  in  the  room  of 
this  duty. — -I  proceed  now, 

II.  To  illuftrate  its  foundation  in  reafon,as  well 
as  in  the  command  of  the  Saviour. 

This  may  be  done  from  a  double  fourcc  of  ar- 
gument— from  the  excellence  and  amiablcnefs  of 


^44  S    M    I     T    U. 

the  difpofition  from  which  this  virtue  is  derived— 
and  from  the  infufficiency  of  the  caufes  on  which 
revenge  is  juilified. 

I.  In  the  firil  place,  from  the  excellence  and  a- 
jniablenefs  of  the  difpofition  from  which  this  vir- 
tue is  derived. — It  contains  a  high  and  general 
philanthropy,  which  is  a  fweet  and  elevated  affec- 
,tion — it  contains  the  love  of  our  enemies,  v^hich 
is  a  generous  principle — it  will  attrad  rcfpcd  and 
honor  from  the  world — and  finally,  it  is  the  moll 
perfed  refemblance  of  that  attribute  in  the  Deity 
•which  h  the  mod  interefling  to  man. 

I.  It  contains  a  high  and  general  philanthropy 
which  is  a  fvveet  and  elevated  affecSlion. 

Love  is  the  highcil  principle  ofunion  among  all 
feniible  beings.     Its  exercife  is  aluays  accompa- 
nied with  pieafure,  and  with  the  confcioufnels  of 
its  excellence.  The  comm.on  proverb  that  revenge 
is  fwect,  is  a  maxim  of  pallion,  not  of  reafon.  And, 
like  moil  other  ilrong  and  fudden  didates  of  the 
paflions,  it  is  falfe.     Are  not  the  plans  of  revenge 
filhd  with  anxiety  and  pain  ?    Is  not  their  execu- 
tion accompanied  with  the  bitternefs  of  undifguif- 
ed  rage,  or  the  balenefs  of  fccrct  treachery  ?  Doth 
it  not,  when  mofi  fuccefsful,  recoil  in  its   cfFcds, 
upon  ourfelves,  either  from  the  refentment  of  the 
•vvorld,  or  from  the  rcfledtions  of  our  ov.  n  breads  ? 
And  doth  it   not,  when  unfucccf>ful,   render  us 
the  vidtims  of  our  own  impetuofity,   and  pride, 
find  involve  us  in  a  fucccflion  of  hoivilities,  and  a 


S     M    I    T    IZ  245; 

tempefl:  of  hateful  paflions,  that  dedroy,  at  once, 
our  fccurity  and  our  peace? — No,  revenge  is  not 
fweet — it  embitters  our  enjoyments — it  incurs 
the  hatred  andoppolition  of  mankind — and,  even 
in  our  own  view,  degrades  us  in  the  moments  of 
calm  recoUedion.  On  the  other  hand,  the  mild 
and  heavenly  principle  of  univerfal  love,  exalts  us 
in  our  own  efteem — It  diffufes  a  divine  fweetnefs 
through  the  breafl,  and  fpreads  tranquillity  over 
the  whole  fcene  of  life — itefcapes  injury  by  avoid- 
ing offence — and  tends  to  render  ail  men  our 
friends,  by  being  ourfelves  the  friends  of  all.  Such 
is  the  genuine  principle  of  forgivenefs — fuch  is  its 
dignity  and  happinefs — and  the  reafonablenefs  of 
the  duty  becomes  evident,  from  the  excellence  of 
its  fource. 

2.  It  contains,  in  the  next  place,  the  love  of  our 
enemies,  which  is  a  noble  and  generous  affedion. 

Whatever  excellence  or  beauty  there  is  in  that 
general  philanthrophy  that  unites  us  to  mankind, 
it  is  greatly  increafed  by  embracing  our  enemies. 
There  is  a  generonty  in  forgiving  an  enemy  that 
exalts  the  action.  There  is  a  heroifm  in  being  fu- 
perior  to  injury,  that  cannot  be  acquired  by  the 
bolded  arid  mod:  fuccefsful  efforts  of  revenge. — 
What  is  an  enemy  ? — One  who  has  treated  you 
with  injuftice — who  has  attacked  your  interefls— 
who  has  attempted  to  blafl:  your  reputation — who 
has  touched  you  in  thofe  points  that  are  moil:  ten- 
der and  dear  to  an  honeft  and  feeling  mind. — 


«4^  S    M    I    T    H. 

What  can  be  more  great  and  elevated  than  tliat 
olivine  charity  which  enables  us  to  forgive  him? 
Doth  it  not  difplay  a  fortitude  that  ditdains  to 
fear  ?  or  a  confcioufn?fs  of  innocence  that  cannot, 
eventually,  diflrud  the  juftice  of  the  world? — Or, 
is  it  not,  at  Jeaft,  the  fruit  of  penitent  humility 
that  forgets  his  injury  in  the  feif-reproachcs  which 
returnmg  virtue  always  makes  to  our  own  paft 
folly  ? — Reproaches  which  are  the  certain  indica- 
tions of  a  worthy  and  ingenious  mindc 

But,  apart  from  the ieconfiderations,  our  enemies 
themfclves  have  fomeclaim  toourregard^  for  the  be- 
nefits we  may  derive  from  them.  Friends  are  too 
tender  to  our  foibles.  Flatterers,  while  they  foothe, 
beguile,  and  often  do  us  an  eflential  injury,  by 
cherifningafalfe  vanity,  and  a  contemptuous  indif- 
ference to  the  opinion  of  the  world.  Frequently, 
our  imperfcdions  are  fofi:  learned  from  our  ene- 
mies. And  although  they  may  be  magnified  by 
unfriendly  pailions;  yet  even  malevolence  has 
ufually  fome  ground  on  which  it  raifes  its  exag- 
^rerated  pidures.  A  wife  man,  by  prudently  at- 
tending to  its  cenfures,  may  learn  to  corredl  his 
errors,  and  to  perfect  his  virtues.  And  the  lau- 
dable dcfire  of  reforming  every  fault,  and  a  gene- 
rous vt^ifli  of  pcrfeiling  the  character  may  contri- 
bute, in  fuch  a  mind,  to  extinguifli  refcntment, 
by  the  obligation  v/nich  it  feels,  even  to  an  enemy» 

3.  This  fpirit,  in  the  next  place,  is  not  only 
honorable  in  itfelf,  but  it  v/iil  attradl:  refpecl  and 
honor  froni  the  world. 


S     M     I     T    H.  24? 

No,  reply  the  pafTionate  advocates  for  the  man- 
ners of  the  world,  luch  mildnefs  and  forbearance 
will  only  invitd  injuries^and  will  certainly  degrade 
us  in  the  public  opinion.     It  is  contrary  to  the 
^ftablilhed  maxims  of  honor;  and  a  man  is  no 
longer  well  received  if  he  has  forfeited  his  charac- 
ter in  fo  delicate  a  point.     My  brethren,  let  me 
beg  your  patience  a  moment,  while  I  combat  the 
truth  of  thefe  remarks  ;  at  lead  fo  far  as  they  re- 
gard a  good  man,  who  has  acquired  an  edabliflied 
charadler  for  piety  and  prudence,  who  is  cautious 
of  giving  offence,  and  who  is  ready  to  acknow- 
ledge his  fault,  if  he  has   inadvertently  fuffered 
himfelf  to  be  betrayed  by  his  paflion.    We  rarely 
fee  examples  of  that  innate  and  inveterate  malice 
\vhich  will  purfue  benevolent  worth  of  this  kind^ 
with  unrelenting  injuftice.     The  vicious  world 
itfclf  refpeds   goodnefs  that  is  fupported  with 
dignity.     If  there  are  a  few  inilances  of  fuch  a- 
trocious  fpirits,  their  own  violence  difgraces  them- 
felves,  and  faves  the  reputatiom  of  a  worthy  cha- 
radler.     Even  in  that  point,   in   which  modern 
manners  have  peculiarly  placed  the  idea  of  honor^ 
more  real  glory,  and  more  public  efbeem  will  fol- 
low from  forgiving  than  revenging  affronts.    That 
affedtation  of  meeknefs,  indeed,  which  fiovv^s  from 
pufillanimity,  is  a  contemptible  charadler. — It  is 
eafily  diiiinguifhable  from  the  mild  and  benevo- 
lent temper  of  the  gofpel  which  may  be  affociated 
with  the  higheff  bravery.     And  much  of  the  re- 
proach which  has  been  poured  upon  thofe  who. 


24S  S    M    I    T    H, 

in  the  flile  of  the  world,  have  not  properly  rejente$ 
injuries^  has  arifen  from  their  own  weak  and  un- 
equal conduct.  Raili  enough,  perhaps,  to  give 
unnecefikry  offence,  they  are  not  believed  when 
they  plead  principle,  for  refufmg  to  make  the  cuf- 
tomary  fatisfadlion.  A  good  man  fnould  be  uni- 
form throughout.  He  (hould  be  equally  inoffen- 
five  in  his  condudl,  as  he  is  careful  not  to  violate 
the  law  that  forbids  retaliation  and  violence. — » 
There  is  a  mild  way  of  doing  every  thing — even 
of  oppofing  the  world.  And  when  fieady  virtue 
isfupported  by  a  calm  and  placid  conduct — when 
equal  pains  have  been  taken  to  avoid  offering  an 
offence,  as  there  is  reludlance  Ihewn  to  anfwer 
for  it — when  readinefs  is  fhewn  to  acknowledge 
and  corre61:  every  inadvertent  tranfport  of  the 
pallions — and  when,  on  other  occafions,  permit- 
ted and  approved  by  religion,  a  proper  firinnefs  at 
mind  has  been  difcovered,  no  degradation  can  re- 
iblt  from  refuiing  to  comply  with  the  common 
but  falfe  maxims  of  honour. — It  was  an  excellent 
reply,  made  by  a  brave  and  virtuous  officer,  to  one 
"who  had  challenged  him  to  fingle  combat — "  i'ou 
know  I  am  not  afraid  to  die,  but  I  am  afraid  to 
commit  a  fault.  If  you  wifli  to  bring  our  pcrfonal 
courage  ^o  the  proof,  I  challenge  you  to  (hew,  in 
the  next  battle,  which  of  us  fhall  lead  our  troops 
with  the  greateft  bravery  to  the  charge." — Many 
•weak  minds  are  capable  of  putting  their  lives  to 
Iiazard  in  a  fudden  impulfe  of  rage  ;  but  it  requires 
iBuch  higher  fortitude  to  encounter  great  and  re^ 


SMITH.  249 

dangers  with  coolacfs  at  the  call  of  duty,  and  to 
difplay  a  fhining  virtue  in  the  fervice  of  our  coun- 
try or  of  mankind. 

The  maxims  of  revenge  have  been  formed,  if  I 
may  fpeak  fo,  by  the  populace  of  the  world.  And 
whatever  comes  from  that  fchool,  is  always  mark- 
ed by  its  native  characters  of  ignorance  and  weak- 
nefs.  Is  not  this  remark  verified  by  obfcrvation? 
Where  are  thofc  doughty  combats  for  honor  found  ? 
Are  they  not  ufu^lly  amon^  thofc  who  have  little 
other  claim  to  merit?  who,  having  forfeited  the 
real  honor  of  wife  and  good  men,  are  the  more  fu- 
rious for  the  name?  Are  they  not,  moft  frequent- 
ly, at  the  termination  of  thofe  bacchanalian  de- 
bauches where  men  have  given  up,  not  only  the 
honor,  butalmoft  the  charadler  of  human  nature? 
Are  they  not,  at  beil,  in  thofe  moments  of  blind 
and  intemperate  paflion,  when  man  is  no  longer 
rational  ? 

Thcfe  are  not  merely  profeifional  declaimings, 
or  the  narrow  rc'fiexions  of  a  religious  fpirit  unac- 
quainted with  the  manners  of  the  v/orld.  If  the 
celcftial  purity  of  the  gofpcl — if  the  divine  majef- 
ty  of  truth  can  receive  fupport  from  earth,  they 
will  find  it  in  the  opinions  of  the  wifeft  philofo- 
pbers,  and  the  braveil  men  of  antiquity.  The  el- 
der Cato  had  it  for  a  maxim,  "  that  we  ought  to 
pardon  the  faults  of  every  other  man,  but  never  our 
own."  "  Revenge,  fliys  Phto,  although  approved 
by  the  world,  is  never  proper ;  nor  can  anv  injury' 

II  h 


250  SMITH. 

juftify  retaliation."  Seneca  declares,  that  "  Re- 
venge is  inhuman,  however  it  be  authorized  by  a 
pernicious  cuflom."  On  the  other  hand,  fays  he, 
"  how  amiable  is  it  when  a  man  is  incapable  of  be- 
ing penetrated  by  any  weapon,  or  of  being  hurt  by 
injury  or  reproach  1" — When  Dion,  that  celebrat- 
ed general  and  philofopher,  had  conquered  Syra- 
cufe,  two  of  his  mofl:  inveterate  enemies  fell  into 
his  power.  His  friends  perfuaded  him  to  take 
vene^eance  on  them.  But  mark  the  wife  and  macf- 
nanimous  reply  of  a  great  foldier — "  other  gene- 
rals delight  in  war  and  arms  alone;  iDut  I,  who 
have  employed  fo  much  time  in  the  purfuits  of 
fcience,  have  iludied,  by  its  aids,  to  overcome  an- 
ger, revenge,  envy,  obftinacy,  and  other  pernicious 
pafHons  of  this  kind.  The  fureft  proof  of  my  fjc- 
cefs  is,  not  only  kindnefs  to  my  friends,  but  lenity 
and  forgivenefs  towards  my  unjufb  and  inveterate 
enemies."  Cleomenes,  king  of  Sparta,  once  faid, 
''  It  is  the  office  of  a  good  prince  to  confer  favors 
on  his  friends,  and  to  inflidt  puniihments  on  his 
enemies."  *'  How  much  better  would  it  be,"  re- 
plied Socrates,  who  heard  him,  "  to  do  good  to 
your  friends,  and  to  make  friends  of  your  enemies?" 
And  no  principle  of  conducl  can  be  more  wife 
and  noble  than  that  fuggefted  by  Diogenes,  to  a 
man  who  enquired  how  he  might  befl:  be  revenged 
on  his  enemy  ? — The  philofopher  anfwered,  "  By 
being  better  than  he." — I  could  fill  the  time  of  a 
long  difcourfe,  with  quotations  to  the  fame  pur- 
pofe.     And  it  mud  afford  a  good  man  pleafurCj 


S    M    I    T    H.  251 

in  reading  the  works  of  antiquity,  to  obfervc  the 
ooiiduct  of  the  greateft  men  refuting  the  falfe  max- 
ims of  modern  honor,  and  to  fee  the  conckifions 
of  reafon,  aided  by  philofophy  alone,  coinciding 
vith  the  mild  and  beneficent  precepts  of  the  gof- 
pel.  Although  it  may  be  beyond  our  fphere  to 
emulate  thefe  iiluilrious  men  in  the  fame  of  their 
"writings,  or  the  glory  of  their  atchievemxCnts,  is  it 
not  however  the  duty  of  every  Chriftian  to  emu- 
late them  in  the  admirable  fpirit  of  their  morals? 
If  nature  could  guide  them  by  her  feeble  lights  to 
t4iis  high  degree  of  excellence,  to  what  perfedlion. 
may  we  arrive,  if  we  faithfully  follow  the  clearer 
lights  of  the  Sun  of  Righteoufnefs. 

4.  In  the  lafl:  place,  the  reafonablcncfs  of  this 
duty  is  illuilrated  from  its  refemblance  to  that  be- 
neficent attribute  in  God  that  is  mod  interefting 
to  man* 

All  our  offences  againfl  Heaven  are  freely  for- 
given us  through  the  redemption  that  is  in  Chrift 
Jefus.  When  God  affumed  a  vifible  form,  it  v/as 
to  promulge  the  law  of  forgivenels  and  love — It 
was  to  give  the  mofb  affecting  example  of  k,hf of- 
fering his  life  to  obtain  the  pardon  of  thole  who 
had  offended  him.  My  brethren  !  if  God  Jo  loved 
us,  we  ouj^hi  al/o  to  love  one  another.  Behold  him 
dying  for  his  enemies,  and  while  they  arc  perpe- 
trating the  mofr  cruel  of  all  injuries,  hear  him,  with 
infinite  dignity  andgoodnefs,  pronounce  their  for- 
givcnefs,  and  even   make   riie  apology  of  their 


55^  SMITH. 

crime — Father  forgive  theniy  for  they  know  not  whi^^f 
ihey  do!  Interefting  example  to  us,  whofe  iins  were 
obliterated  by  that  acl  I — who  were  refcued  by  it 
from  the  flames  which  our  offences  againft  him 
were,  at  that  moment,  kindling  around  us !  With 
what  force  does  it  recommend  to  you  from  the 
Crofs,  that  divine  precept,  to  love  your  entmieSy  to 
blefs  thofe  who  curfe  yoii^  to  do  good  to  ihofe  zvho  bate 
you,  and  to  pray  for  thofe  zvho  def fit  e fully  ufe  you  and 
perfe  cute  you  ;  that  ye  may  be  the  children  of  your  he  a- 
Venly  Father,  who  makeih  his  fun  to  rife  on  the  evil 
dnd  the  goody  and  his  rain  to  fall  on  the  juft  and  the  un- 
fill.  The  Apcftle  beautifully  applies  ic  to  this 
ufe  in  his  cpiftle  to  the  Ephefians— ^^  ye  kind 
one  to  another,  tender  hearted,  forgiving  one  another, 
even  as  God  for  Chrifl'sfake  hath  forgiven  you,  Caa 
any  charader  be  more  honorable  to  human  nature 
than  to  refemble  the  perfedion  of  God  ?  Can  any 
duty  be  more  juft  than  to  forgive  as  we  have  been 
forgiven. 

So  many  principles  coijcur  to  recommend  and 
urge  this  amiable  exercife  of  Chriftian  charity. 
Thereafonablenefsof  this  duty  appears,  however, 
not  only  from  the  excellence  and  amiablenefs  of 
the  difpofitions  from  which  it  is  derived — but 

II.  From  the  infufficiency  of  the  caufcs  on 
which  revenge  is  juftified.  Thefe  may  be  ranked 
under  the  following  clalics — contradiction  to  our 
habits  and  opinions — oppofition  to  our  pleafures 
or  interefts — and  injuftice  to  our  charader  and 
reputation. 


I    T    H.  253 

I.  Contradicftion  'to  our  habits  and  opinions, 
in  the  firit  place,  is  apt  to  create  an  alienation  of 
mind  from  thole  vvh(^  oppofe  us,  and  tonourith  the 
refent/ul  paffions. 

What  implacable  oik)ofitions  have  we  feen  grow 
up  among  men  from  div^rlity  of  fentiment  in  Re- 
ligion, or  in  civil  policy  ?  Society,  that  was  de- 
ligned  for  the  protedion  and  peace  of  mankind, 
feems  frequently  to  inflame  the  palTions  with  great- 
er ardor,  by  bringing  them  nearer  together.    And 
men,  in  the  extravagance  of  mifguided  zeal  in  Re^ 
ligion,  have  thought  to  promote  the  caufe  of  love 
and  mercy,  by  the  moll:  frightful  excelTes  of  cruel- 
ty and  rage. — Even  on  lefs  important  fubjcds, 
variety  of  opinion,  and  diveriity  in  the  habits  of 
talle  and  education,  become  fources  of  mutual  ali- 
enation and  contempt,  that  create  many  imagina- 
ry caufes  of  diflention,  and  augment  and  imbitter 
thofe  that  are  real.     What  ridicule,  what  fnecr, 
what  obloquy  enter  into  different  parties,  and  of- 
ten form  the  fpirit  of  the  different  circles    into 
which  fociety  is  divided?  Do  not   thefe  caufes 
nourilh  the  paffions  of  hatred  and  pride  ?  Do  the/ 
not  reprefent  the  actions  and  deligiis  of  men  in  a 
falfe  and  injurious  light  ?  Do  they  not  contribute 
to  render  their  diffeations  unforgiving  and  eternal  ? 
Ah  I  my  brethren,  are  not  all  thefe  occafions  of 
mutual  alienation,  when  ferioaliy  and  calmly  clli- 
mated,  unworthy  and  unreafonable  ?  And  yet,  do 
we  not  fee  them  every  day  violating,  in  the  groifcff 
manner,  the  fpirit  wind  the  law  of  charity  ? 


254  SMITH. 

2.  Another  caufe  of  revenge  as  little  juftifiablcv 
is  oppofition  to  our  pleafures,  or  our  interefts. 

Interefl  and  pleafurc  form  thofe  objeds  of  pur- 
fuit  that  ufually  occupy  the  minds  of  men  with 
the  greateft  ardor.  If  thefe  are  frequently  and 
pointedly  oppofed,  they  are  apt  to  create  flrong 
and  lalling  refentments.  How  can  I  love  the  man, 
you  fay,  who,  on  all  occafions,  fets  himfclf  againfl 
me  ?  How  can  I  forgive  the  malice  that  is  perpe- 
tually thwarting  my  purpofes  and  defeating  my 
views? — Let  us  examine  the  validity  of  thefe  rea- 
fons. — Perhaps  the  malice  you  impute  to  him  is 
only  the  coloring  which  your  refentment  gives  to 
his  fuccefsful  rivaldiip.  He  is  engaged  in  a  pur- 
fuit  of  pleafures,  or  interefts  iimilar  to  your  own. 
Your  common  views  happen  to  terminate  on  the 
fame  objedls ;  and  your  padions  reprefent  the  in- 
terference that  fprings  from  the  lawful  exercife  of 
his  own  rights,  as  flowing  from  malicious  deiign. 
But  admitting  that  he  is  an  enemy  as  well  as  a  ri- 
val— 'do  you  not  acquit  him  on  your  own  princi- 
ples, by  your  hofiility  to  him  ?  And  will  you  add 
to  the  injury  he  hath  already  done  you,  a  greater 
evil,  by  chenfhing  thofe  unhallowed  paiTions  that 
offend  God,  and  difquiet  your  own  peace  ?  No, 
thefe  enmities  are  at  once  ill  founded  and  perni- 
cious to  our  own  fouls.  If  oppofuion  to  our  in- 
terefts, or  our  pleafures  is  not  fulTicient  to  juftify 
the  fpirit  of  revenge — neither  is, 

3.  Injuftice  to  our  charader  and  reputation. 


SMITH.  255 

Charaderis  the  dearefl  poiTefTion  to  a  good  man. 
No  wound  afflicts  him  fo  deeply  as  an  imputation 
on  his  honor,  or  his  virtue?  But  is  it  fufficient  to 
authorize  the  purpofes  of  revenge? — No,  Religion 
prohibits  all  retaliation,  except  of  good  for  evil. — 
Is  it  the  proper  way  to  vindicate  our  injured  inno- 
cence ?  No,  a  gentle  difpofition,  and  a  virtuous 
condud  are  the  mofl:  cffeduai  refutation  of  every 
(lander.  Is  it  even  certain  we  have  fuffered  the 
injury  of  which  we  complain?^ — In  innumerable 
inftances,  if  we  carefully  examine  its  grounds,  we 
ihall  find  it  founded  in  mifreprefentation.  How 
many  raQi  and  imprudent  perfons  take  up  a  tale 
before  they  comprehend  it,  and  propagate  it  with 
the  coloring  of  their  own  imagination  ?  How  ma- 
ny malicious  perfons  love  in  this  way  to  augment 
the  diflentions  of  fociety  ?  How  many  vain  and 
talkative  perfons  permit  themfelves,  without  re- 
fledlion,  to  diileminate  the  moft  pernicious  and 
unfounded  hiftories  ?  What  additions  are  made  to 
the  truth  in  pafling  only  through  a  fev/  mouths  B 
How  often  have  we  known  our  own  words  to  be 
didorted  and  invenomed  by  the  malice  or  indif-^ 
crction  of  others  ? — And  fhall  we,  notwithftand-. 
ing,  take  this  uncertain  ground  to  vindicate  the 
moil  atrocious  of  all  the  pailions  ?  PoiTibly  we  do 
our  brother  a  high  injury  by  believing  him  capa- 
ble of  the  injuftice. 

But  admitting  that  he  hath  calumniated  our 
character — may  it  not  have  been  the  fruit  of  in- 
confidcration  merely  ?  May  it  not  have  been  oc^ 


156  S    M    I     T     H. 

oifioned  by  the  officious  zeal  of  falfe  friends  who 
havepoifoned  his  mind?  May  it  not  have  fprung 
from  dark  and  fufpicious  circumflances   in  our 
own  conduct  which  wx  have  not  condefcended  to 
explain  ? — It  becomes  a  good  man  rather  to  find 
apologies  for  fuch  adlions  than  to  profecute  them 
with  rage.     He   ought  to  attribute  them  to  the 
want  of  reflection,  to  the  artifice  of  others,  to  the 
furprize  of  pafiion,  to  any  caufe  rather  than  a  ma- 
lignant difpolicion.     A  great  wit  once  faid,  "  it  is 
neceffary  only  for  mankind  to  converfe  together 
freely  every  day  to  make  them  all  of  one  Religion." 
We  may  fay  with  at  lead  equal  truth,  that  it  is 
necelTary  only  for  men  to  converfe  together  freely, 
to  remove  a  thoufand  prejudices,  to  extinguifh  a 
thoufand  animofities  in  their  origin,  and  notwith- 
fianding  all  the  caufcs  of  diviiion  that  exifl:  in  the 
world,  to  make  them  friends. — But  if  there  arc 
feme  who,  through  weaknefs  of  mind,  or  the  vio- 
lence of  pallion,  cannot  be  reclaimed,  how  ought 
a  Chriftian  to  treat  their  obloquy?  Not  furely  by 
imitating  their  crime.     This  is  ufually  the  proof 
of  a  vulnerable  character  in  ourfelves.     The  moft 
clear  and  honorable  vindication  of  ourfelves  is  vir- 
tuous conduct    In  the  confcioufnefs  of  innocence, 
virtue  may  be  filent.     There  is,  belides,  a  dignity 
^  lilence  that  makes  a  favorable  imprciPion  on  the 
world,  and  humbles  an  enemy  much  more  than 
any  retaliation  of  reproach  or  flander. — But  the 
moft  equivocal  vindication  of  charader,  and  even 
of  that  courage  which  modern  ideas  have  made  a 


SMITH.  257 

fubditute  for  characlier,  is  the  fmgle  combat.  No 
alTault  on  our  good  name  can  juflify  this  crime — 
The  fpirit  and  the  la^^  of  the  gofpcl  condemn  it — 
A  brave  and  virtuous  man  does  not  need  it — The 
mofl:  illuflrious  nations  of  antiquity,  who  civiUzed 
the  earth,  and  who  adorned  human  nature  by  their 
talents,  knew  no  fuch  methods  to  vindicate  their 
injured  honor,  or  to  prop  an  infirm  reputation. 
On  this  fubjecl,  however,  I  have  already  made  the 
neceiTai'y  refle(5lions  ;  and  fhall  now  difmifs  the 
whole  by  remarking,  that  as  they  are  our  vanity 
and  pride  that  are  chiefly  hurt  by  the  tales  of  ca- 
lumny, fo  they  are  thefe  principles,  fo  little  be- 
coming the  imperfedlion  of  human  nature,  that 
give  to  the  refentful  paflions  their  greateft  force. 
Thus  weak  and  infufficient  are  all  thofe  caufes 
which  are  ufually  urged  to  juftify  the  fpirit  of  re- 
venge. 

And  now,  in  the  conclunon  of  this  difcourfe,  let 
me  call  your  attention  to  the  following  refiedlions. 

I.  The  firfl  that  I  make  is,  that  as  it  becomes 
a  good  man  never  to  give  ju  ft  occafion  of  offence  to 
others,  it  becomes  him  alfo  if  he  has  been,  at  any 
time,  furprized  by  his  paflions,  to  efface  his  fault 
by  a  fpeedy  and  candid  acknowledgement.  There 
is  often  more  goodnefs  and  grcatnefs  of  mind  dif- 
played  in  acknowledging,  than  in  not  having  com- 
mitted an  error.  Caution  in  offendinof,  and  can- 
dor  in  confefFing,  are  necefTary  perhaps  to  enable 
us  with  fincerity  to  forgive.     Obedience  to  this 

I  i 


25?  S    M    I    T    H. 

law  is  Icfs  difficult  when  we  are  not  confcious  of  a 
fault  ourfclves.  There  is  a  dignity  in  innocence 
that  docs  not  fear  to  be  degraded  by  ftooping  to 
pardon.  But  if  we  have  been  betrayed  to  do 
wrong,  and  have  not  fortitude  of  mind  enough  to 
confefs  it,  our  own  fault  becomes  the  greateft  ob- 
ftacle  to  our  duty,  and  an  unforgiving  fpirit  is  che- 
riilied  by  a  falfe  fentiment  of  honor. 

2.  This  duty  I  might  recommend  from  the  gc- 
nerolity  and  nobknefs  of  its  principle — from  the 
approbation  of  mankind — and  from  the  tranquili- 
ty and  peace  with  which  it  will  be  accompanied 
in  our  own  breads — But  apart  from  all  thefe  con- 
liderations,  which  can  touch  only  a  great  and  wor- 
thy mind,  it  is  a  duty  that  addrelFes  itfelf  to  our 
intereft  and  our  fears — it  is  enjoined  by  all  the 
authority,  and  enforced  by  all  the  terrors  of  Re- 
ligion—^r  if  ye  forgive  not  men  their  trefpaffes, 
neither  zviilyour  Father  who  is  in  HeaveUy  forgive 
your  irefpajfes. — Haughty  and  revengeful  fpirits  I 
look  up  to  that  tribunal  where  your  own  pu- 
niihment  awaits  you,  and  let  the  awful  majefty  of 
divine  juftice  reflrain  your  pride  and  rage !  Re- 
member that  the  meafure  which  you  mete  to  o- 
thers  fhall  be  meafured  to  you  again.  A  refentful 
iinforgiving  temper  can  hope  for  no  indulgence 
from  the  righteous  judge.  On  the  other  hand, 
meeknefs,gcntlenefs,  forgivenefs,  as  they  are  abun- 
dant fources  of  inward  confolation  on  earth,  fo  they 
lead  alfo  to  the  regions  of  eternal  peace  in  Heaven. 


SMITH.  259 

3.  This  fubjedl  fuggefts  the  ardent  charity  with 
which  we  ought  to  embrace  our  brethren  who  have 
not  injured  us.  If  hoftile  intentions  are  to  be  for- 
given— if  adual  injuries  are  to  be  forgotten — if 
enemies  are  to  be  beloved,  with  what  warm  affec- 
tion ought  we  to  regard  thofe  who  are  innocent? — 
Thofe  who  embrace  us  with  kindnefs  ? — Thofe 
who  are  our  iinccre  and  a6live  friends  ? — Thofe 
who  are  conncdlcd  with  us  by  the  moft  tender  re- 
lations ? — And  above  all,  thofe  who  add  to  thefe 
endearing  ties,  their  union  with  us  in  the  houfe- 
hold  of  faith  ? — The  united  bands  of  humanity, 
friend  (hip  and  religion,  form  the  mod  powerful 
obligation  to  all  the  ufeful  and  amiable  oiBces  of 
fraternal  love.  And  the  power  of  forgiving  an  in- 
jury will  be  a  certain  pledge  to  ourfelves  and  others 
of  all  that  fnall  be  attentive,  tender  and  beneFicent 
in  the  ordinary  condud:  of  our  life,  a;id  our  com- 
merce with  fociety. 

4.  Finally,  this  fubjedt  is  clofely  connected  with 
piety  as  well  as  with  morals.  The  tempers  and 
habits  of  men  give  a  tinclure  to  the  fpirit  of  their 
Religion.  The  pailions  of  revenge  and  hatred 
have  contributed  to  clothe  the  divine  nature  in 
thofe  gloomy  terrors,  in  which  the  fuperftitions  of 
all  ages  have  more  or  lefs  inveded  it.  The  Deity 
has  appeared  in  the  moft  difmal  forms,  where  his 
votaries  have  been  the  moft  unrelenting.  Placid 
manners,  on  the  other  hand,  and  a  benevolent  dif- 
pofition,  naturally  reprefent  him  in  the  charms  of 


26o  S    xM    I    T    H. 

benignity  and  love.  Our  hearts  then  accord  with 
the  promife  of  our  Saviour,  and  recomnnend  it  to 
our  faiih — if  ye  forgive  men  their  irefpajfesy  your 
heavenly  Father  will  alfo  forgive  you.  Put  on  there- 
ibre,  my  brethren,  the  meeknefs  of  the  blefledje- 
fus,  who  on  the  crofs  prayed  for  his  murderers. 
Prove  yourfelves  to  be  the  children  of  your  Father 
who  is  in  Heaven,  by  that  fpirit  of  love  which  is 
his  image.  You  will  hereby  illuflrate  the  beauty 
of  Religion  in  the  view  of  men — you  will  augment 
and  extend  the  happinefs  of  fociety — you  will  cul- 
tivate in  your  own  bofoms  the  rich  confolations  of 
piety,  and  the  hopes  of  eternal  life — and  you  will 
at  once  animate  your  devotions,  and  increafe  the 
happinefs  which  a  good  man  finds  in  them,  by 
fti  engthening  your  faith  in  the  divine  mercy. 

Do  thou,  O  mofl  holy  and  gracious  God  \  cre- 
ate and  cheriib  in  our  hearts,  more  and  more, 
thefe  heavenly  difpofitions,  for  the  fake  of  Chrift 
our  Lord  !  To  whom  with  ihee^  and  the  eternal 
ipirit,  be  rendered  glory  everlafting.     Amen. 


SERMON     XIII. 

The  SPIRITUAL  DEATH  AND    LIFE 
or  THE  BELIEVER. 

B    Y 

WILLIAM     LINN,     D.  D. 

One  of  the  Minlfters  of  the  Reformed  Dutch  Church,  New- York. 


Gal.     ii.  20. 

I  am  crucified  with  Chrijl ;  never thelcfs  I  live  ;  yet 
not  7,  hut  Chrijl  liveih  in  me  ;  and  the  life  which 
I  nozv  live  in  theflejh,  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son 
of  Gody  zvho  loved  me,  and  gave  himfelffor  7ne, 

TO  underfland  thefe  words,  it  is  necelTary  to 
attend  to  their  connedlion.     The  apoftle,  in 
the  former  part  of  the  cpifile,  vindicates  himfelf 
againfb  the  mifreprefentations  o^  falfe  teachers  in 
the  Galatian  Church  ;  who  alledged  that  he  was 
no  apoftlc,  and  that  he  taught  dodrines  contrary 
to  Peter,   and  the  other  apoftlcs.     In  the  i6th 
vcrfe  of  this  chapter,  he  begins  to  eflablifh  and 
defend  the  dodlrine  of  juflification  by  fiiith,  which 
thefe  teachers  attempted  to  iubvert.     They  urged 
the  ftrid:  obfervance  of  the  ceremonial  law,  and 
particularly  of  circumcifion,  as  neccffary  to  falva- 


262  LINN. 

tion.     Tte  apoftle,  on  the  other  hand,  excludes 
all  works,  whether  of  the  ceremonial  or  moral  law, 
from  having   any  influence  upon  it ;  and  direds 
to  feek  rightcoufnefs  only  through  faith  in  Chrift. 
He  likewife  anfwers  that  old  and  common  objec- 
tion made  by  adverfaries,  that  if  perfons  be  not 
juftified  by  their  obedience  to  the  law,  then  a  door 
IS  opened  to  licentioufnefs,  and  Chrifl  becomes 
the  minifter  of  fin.     This  he  rejedls,  by   prefling 
holinefs,  or  a  ftrict  conformity  to  the  moral  law ; 
and  left  they  might  fay,  that  this  w^as  buildifjg  again 
what  he  had  dejiroyed,  he  fliows,  that  faith  and  obe- 
dience are  always  united ;    that  the  fame  faith, 
•which  looks  to  Chrift  for  the  pardon  of  fin,  derives 
from  him  alfo,  flrength  to  fubdue  it.  /  through  the 
Jaw,  fays  he,  in  the  1 9th  verfe,  am  dead  to  the  law, 
that  I  might  live  unto   God.     By  being  dead  to  the 
law,  we  are  not  to  underftand,  the  being  freed 
from  it  as  a  rule  of  life;  but  the  not  putting  con- 
fidence in  obedience  to  it,  for  juflification.    That 
obedience  which  the  law  demands,  has  been  ful- 
filled by  Chrifb  the  furety  of  the  believer,  and  ac- 
ccoted  in  his  behalf.     He  is  alfo  dead  to  the  law, 
as  being  delivered  from  the  curfe  of  it.      But 
thoueh  the  law  has  neither  power  to  fave,  nor  to 
condemn  him,  yet  he  is  under  obligation  to  live 
unto  God.     His  being  indebted  to  Chrifl",   is  fo 
far  from  excufing  him,  that  it  increafes  the  obli- 
gation, and  is  the  mofl  powerful   inducement  to 
holinefs  of  life.     This  the  apofllc  farther  explains 
and  enforces  in  the  text.  • 


LINN.  263 

lam  crucified  with  Chriji.  '*  Through  this  cru- 
cified one,  I  die  to  the  law,  fin,  and  the  world  ; — 
and  my  death  refembles  his.  Neverthelefs,  as  he 
rofe  and  lives  forevermore,  fo  I  live  fpiritually ; 
having  grace  here,  the  earneft  of  future  glory. — 
Stridly  fpeaking,  however,  it  is  not  I  that  live.  I 
am  neither  the  caufe  nor  the  promoter  of  this  life; 
hut  Chriji  liveth  in  me  ;  by  his  fpirit  directing  the 
inclinations  of  my  heart.  And  the  life  which  I  now 
live  in  the  flejhy  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  ofGod» 
The  great  inftrument  of  my  life  is,  a  firm  belief 
that  Jefus,  who  was  crucified,  is  the  Son  of  God. 
Here  I  lay  hold  upon  the  hope  fet  before  me ;  and 
this  hope  is  as  an  anchor  of  the  foul,  both  fare  and  fie d^ 
faft."  The  apoftle  f  peaks  in  the  firft  perfon,  /,  and 
thus  declares  his  own  experience  with  refpedl  to 
the  dodirine  he  defends.  This  was  his  condition, 
and  is  truly  the  condition  of  all  believers  ;  though 
they  may  not  be  able,  fo  clearly,  to  adopt  his 
language,  or  to  ufe  the  appropriating  words,  who 
loved  me t  and  gave  himfelffor  me. 

In  difcourfmg  on  this  fubjed,  I  fhall  diredyouv 
attention  to  the  leading  thoughts  ;  and  therefore, 
I  fliall  endeavor  to  fhow,  Firfi,  What  is  implied 
in  being  crucified  with  Chriff. — Secondly,  What  we 
are  to  underiland,  by  Chrift  living  in  the  believer  j 
and  point  out  the  great  influence  of  faith  in  the 
divine  life.  Or,  in  fewer  words,  fhow — How  the 
-^believer  dies,  and  how  he  lives. 

I.  Expreffions  fimilar  to  this,  of  being  crucified 
Wth  Chrifi,  arc  more  than  once  ufcd  in  the  wri^ 


264  'LIN    N. 

tings  of  the  apoftle.     No  one  will  be  fo  weak  as  to 
imagine  that  Paul  was  a  fharer  with  Chrift  in  the 
merit  of  his  (uiterings.     Such  a  thought  would  be 
horrid  and  blafphemous.     Thus,   though  he  de- 
fires  to  know  the  fellovsfljtp  of  his  Sufferings ^   yet  he 
means  only,  to  enjoy  the  benefit  of  them  and  be 
conformed  to  them  in  his  own.     Seeing  his  Lord 
fuftered,  he  did  not  repine,  but  rejoiced  in  fuffer- 
ing  for  his  fake.    Accordingly  he  fays,  in  another 
^\diCQ:,if/obeihatwe/uffer  with  him.     How  fuf- 
fer  with  him  ?    He  means,  in  his  caufe  ;  and  by 
afliftance  derived  from  him.  This  is  a  part  of  con- 
formity to  Chriff,  as  well  as  that  he  makes  their 
fufferings  his  own,  by  tenderly  fympathizing  with 
them,  ftrengthening  and  rewarding  them.— There 
is  implied  in  being  crucified  with  Chrift, 

Firfty  A  refufing  obedience  to  the  ceremonial 
law,  as  being  no  longer  neceflary  to  falvation.  It 
was  only  temporary.  The  defign  being  fulfilled, 
it  ccafed  to  be  of  farther  ufe.  The  law,  fays  the  a- 
poflle,  was  ourJchooUmafteVy  to  bring  its  unto  Chrijl^ 
that  we  might  be  juftijied  by  faith.  But  after  that 
faith  is  comey  we  are  no  longer  under  a  fchooUmafier. 
Though  certain  erroneous  teachers  held  that  it 
was  flill  obligatory,  yet  he  declares,  that  he  was 
crucified  with  Chrifl ;  that  his  death  put  an  end 
to  this  legal  fervice.  When  he  faid,  //  is  finijhed, 
this  law  was  aboliflied,  and  a  new  difpcnfation  in- 
troduced. ..«; 

Secondly,  there  is  implied  a  chearfulnefs  in  un- 
going  all  that  fcorn  and  contempt  with  which  a 


LINN.  265 

firm  adherence  to  the  dodrine  of  the  crofs  was  at- 
tended. Cbrift  crucified  was,  unto  the  Jeivs,  aftum^ 
lling  block,  and  unto  the  Greeks  yfooUJhnefs,  Not  with- 
Handing  the  offence  of  the  crofs,  the  oppofition  to 
it,  and  the  reproach  to  which  the  promoters  of  it 
were  expofed,  the  apoftle  was  not  aJJoamed  of  the 
gnjpel  of  Cbrift.  While  his  enemies  in  the  Church 
conftrained  their  profelytes  to  be  circumcifed,  and 
gloried  in  it,  he  rejeded,  with  deteftation,  the 
thought  of  glory  ing,y^'u'^  in  the  crofs  of  our  Lordje^ 
fus  Chrift. 

Suffice  it  jufi:  to  mention  thefe,  as  what  may  be 
implied  when  we  confider  the  fcope  of  the  epiftle, 
and  the  circumftances  of  Chriftians  in  the  primi- 
tive ffate  of  the  Church. 

'Thirdly,  There  is  implied  in  this  expreflion,  a 
partaking  of  the  merits  of  the  death  of  Chriff,  and 
the  being  dead  to  the  moral  law,  in  the  manner 
mentioned  in  the  preceding  verfe.  As  in  this 
and  other  places,  the  ceremonial  law  is  to  be  un- 
derftood,  fo  the  moral  is  evidently  to  be  included. 

The  believer  is  juflified  on  account  of  the  per- 
fect obedience  and  meritorious  death  of  Chrift ; 
the  one  anfvvering  to  the  precept  of  the  law,  and 
the  other  to  the  violation  of  it.  Neither  of  thefe 
can  be  performed  in  his  own  perfon,  the  law  ad- 
mitting ofnolefs  than  a  perfedi:  obedience,  and 
the  fatisfacllion  it  requires  being  infinite.  This 
inability  docs  not  a  rife  from  any  infufticiency  in 
the  law,  but  from  that  weakncfs  in  man,  which  baa 

K  k 


266  LIN    N. 

taken  place  fince  the  fall.  For  "johat  the  laiv  could 
not  do,  in  that  it  was  weak  through  thefejh,  God  fend- 
ing his  ozvn  Son  in  the  likenefs  of fmfid  fleflj  ^  and  for  fin 
condemned  fin  in  the  flefb;  that  the  right  coif nefs  of  the 
law  might  be  fulfilled  in  us.  Jefus  Chrift,  being  eve- 
ry way  equal  to  the  work  of  redemption,  hath  o- 
beyed  and  fuftered  as  the  reprefcntative  of  all  his 
fpiritual  feed.  This  righteoufnefs  is  imputed  to 
the  believer.  He  is  crucified  with  Qirifb.  The 
demands  of  the  law  are  anfwered  for  him  by  Chrifl, 
and  accepted  by  God.  In  the  plan  of  redemption, 
it  is  accounted  the  fame  as  if  the  believer  had 
done  it  perfonally. 

In  the  firft  covenant,  Adam,  reprefenting  his 
pofterity,  by  his  failure,  involved  them  in  fin  and 
mifcry :  in  the  fecond  covenant,  Chrifl,  reprefent- 
ing his  chofen,  reftores  them  to  the  favor  of  God. 
For  as  hy  one  man  s  difohedience  many  were  made  fin- 
Tiers  ;  fo  by  the  obedience  of  one^fioall  many  be  made 
righteous.  There  is  therefore  now  no  condemnation  to 
ihe7n  which  are  in  Chrifi  Jefus.  The  believer  renoun- 
ces his  own  righteoufnefs  as  the  ground  of  confi- 
<3ence  before  God.  Any  thing  he  does  or  fuifers 
is  neither  whole  nor  part  of  the  righteoufnefs 
which  faves  him.  The  Apoflle,  in  the  third  chap- 
ter of  his  epiftle  to  the  Philippians,  fets  this  mat- 
ter in  a  clear  point  of  light.  If  any  other  man,  fays 
he,  ihinketh  that  he  hath  whereof  he  might  triift  in  the 
flcfio,  I  more.  Then  having  fummed  up  his  pri- 
vileges, and  told  us,  that  touching  the  righteoufnefs 
Kvhicb  is  in  the  law,  he  was  blamclefs,  he  adds,  But 


LINN..  -267 

things  zvere  gain  to  me^  thofe  I  counted  lofs  to  Chrift. 
I'ca  doubtlefsy  and  I  count  all  things  hut  lofs y  for  the 
excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Chrift  Jefus  fny  Lord : 
for  whom  I  have  fuffered  the  lofs  of  all  things ,  and  do 
count  them  hut  dung  that  I  may  win  Chrift;  and  he 
found  in  him^  not  having  mine  own  right eoufnefs^  which 
is  of  tlj€  lazVy  hut  that  which  is  through  the  faith  of 
Chrift  the  right  eoufnefs  which  is  of  God  hy  faith, — 
This  righteoufnefs,  which  is  imputed  to  the  be- 
liever>  as  the  only  foundation  of  his  acceptance 
with  God,  and  title  to  eternal  life,  docs  not  fuper-^ 
cede  the  neceiTity  of  an  inherent  righteoufnefs. 
The  pardon  of  Im  and  the  deftrudion  of  it  in  the 
foul,  are  infeparable  j  and  therefore^ 

In  the /o/^r//?  place.  There  is  in:iplicd,  in  being 
crucified  with  Chrift,  an  experience  of  the  efficacy 
of  his  death.  This  is,  no  doubt,  an  important,  if 
not  the  principal  idea  in  the  words;  and  which 
we  find  plainly  exprelTed  in  the  following  palTages : 
Knowing  this  that  our  old  man  is  crucified  with  him, 
that,  the  hody  of  fin  might  he  defiroyed^  that  henceforth 
wefbould  not  fervefin.  And  theyy,  that  are  Chrift' s, 
have  crucified  the  fiefh,  zvith  the  affe&ions  and  lufts. 
By  the  body  of  fin  in  the  one  place,  and  the  flefh 
in  the  other,  is  meant  that  corrupt  nature  which 
mankind  inherit  fince  their  apoftacy;  that  evil 
propeniity  and  oppofition  to  holincfs  which  is  in 
us.  It  has  been  called  the  power  or  dominion  of 
fin;  and  confifts  in  want  of  conformity  to  God,., 
;ind  a  difpo{^.iion  to  offend. 


268  LIN    N. 

The  perfon  who  is  crucified  with  Chrifl  is,  in 
feme  meafure,  brought  to  this  conformity,  the 
power  of  fin  being  fubdued.  The  obedience  and 
death  of  Chrifb  produce  this,  as  in  confequence  of 
thefe,  the  holy  Ipirit  creates  anew  the  heart,  and 
cherifiies  holy  defircs  and  refolutions.  Under  the 
infiuence  of  this  blelfed  agent,  the  believer  is  fanc- 
tified  and  prepared  for  the  enjoyment  of  God. 
The  great  means  of  carrying  on  this  work,  are  the 
truths  of  the  everlading  gofpel  ;  efpecially  thofe 
which  refped:  the  fuiferings  and  death  of  the  Sa- 
viour. 

The  contemplation  of  this  amazing  obje(fl  cru- 
cifies fin  in  the  foul.  Here  is  a  difplay  of  the 
holinefs  and  jufiice  of  God.  He  is  fo  holy,  that 
he  will  manift^ft  his  abhorrence  of  fin  ;  and  fo  jufi^, 
that  he  will  by  no  means  clear  the  guilty.  Thefe 
perfecftions  of  Deity,  Ibining  in  the  fufFerings  of 
Chrifi",  burn  up  the  drofs  of  fin,  and  infpire  with 
the  firongefi:  detefiation  againft  it.  Here  is  a 
difplay  of  love  and  mercy  fufiicient  to  melt  the 
foul  and  ftir  up  every  grateful  feeling.  Holinefs, 
jufiice,  and  mercy  are  fweetly  blended.  Sin  is 
punifiied  and  the  finncr  faved.  Pardon  is  free 
and  unbounded,  and  yet  fin  difcountenanced  ; 
nay,  efi^edually  defiroyed,  expires  on  the  crofs. 
Every  view  the  believer  takes  of  his  bleeding  Sa- 
viour, fin  receives  a  wound.  He  looks  upon  him 
whom  he  has  pierced  and  mourns.  He  fufl'ers 
real  agony,  in  that  his  fins  were  the  occafion  of 
his   bitter  death;    his  fins,  the  nails  and  fpcar 


LINN.  3^9 

that  pierced  his  facred  body,  and  opened  thofe 
Avounds  which  ftreamed  falvation  to  the  children 
of  men.  Thus  is  the  believer  crucified  withr 
Chrift" ;  and  the  death  of  fin  in  him,  refcmbles  a 
crucifixion.  It  was  a  painful,  fhameful,  lingering, 
and  accurfed  death  ;  and  fo  is  the  death  of  fin. 

It  is  painful.     The  firft  entrance  upon  a  religi- 
ous courfe  is  difficult ;    and  the  more  fo,  where 
fin  has  long  had  the  dominion.     Converfion  is  a 
Uraight  gate  through  which  we  mud  pafs,  and 
holinefs  a  narrow  way,  in  which  we  mufi:  walk  to 
eternal  life.    The  finner's  return  to  God  is  liken- 
ed by  our  Saviour  to  a  fecond  birth,  and,  among 
other  reafons,  becaufe  it  is  painful.     The  Chrifti- 
an  life  is  compared  to  a  race,  to  a  fight,  and  fuch 
things  in  which  vigorous  exertions  are  required. 
There  are  many  lufi:s  dear  as  a  right  eye  and  a 
right  hand  which  mufl  be  plucked  out  and  cut  off. 
If  any  man  will  come  after  inCy  fays  Chrill,  let  him 
deny  himjelf  and  take  up  his  crcfs  and  follow  vie.    We 
muft  be  denied  to  ourfclves  and  to  the  world  ;  dif- 
ficulties are  to  be  furmounted,  temptations  refift- 
cd,  injuries  forgiven,  and   reproaches    endured. 
This  is  a  painful  work,  often  like  to  be  overcome, 
and  fi:ill  renewing   the  combat.      The  Apofi^Ie, 
groaning  under  the  weight  of  corruption,  cried, 
O  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  Jh all  deliver  me  from 
the  body  of  this  death  ! 

Again,  It  is  Ihameful.  When  iniquities  pre- 
vail, the  believer  is  covered  with  fliame  and  con- 
fufionoffacc.     This  may  rife  to  fuch  a  degree, 


2/0  LIN    N/ 

that  he  will  be  tempted  to  ceafe  from  feeking  God. 
After  a  bafe  and  ungrateful  condudl,  he  is  afraid  ta 
appear  in  the  divine  prefence ;  when  he  does,  he 
abhors  him/elf  and  repents  in  dtifi  and  ajhes.  The 
Pfalmifl",  convinced  of  his  error,  made  this  ac- 
knowledgment— So  foolijh  was  I  and  ignorant :  T 
zvas  as  a  beaft  before  thee.  When  the  Saviour,  af- 
ter an  unkind  and  untender  walk,  condefcends  to 
give  us  tokens  of  his  love,  and  iliew  us,  as  he  did 
unbelieving  Thomas,  his  hands  and  his  fide,  how 
is  fin  crucified  with  fhame  ! 

Again,  The  death  of  fin  is  very  lingering.  It  is 
dying  from  the  moment  Chrifi:  is  formed  in  the 
foul,  till  glory  commences.  To  what  end  are  the 
means  of  grace  ?  To  what  end  the  numerous  afflic- 
tions and  temptations  which  befal  the  Chrifi:ian,asi 
he  pafies  through  life,  but  todefiroy  fin?  And  yet 
it  ftill  lives.  It  withdraws  but  to  return ;  it  fleeps 
but  to  awake  again.  Like  a  monfler  of  many 
heads,  though  deprived  of  one,  it  has  another ; 
Bay,  one  fiioots  out  from  the  place  another  was 
lopped  off. 

Moreover,  the  death  of  the  crofs  was  an  accurfl. 
cd  death  ;  inflicfted  on  none  but  thofe  guilty  of  the 
blacked:  crimes;  fuch  as  were  accurfed  of  men, 
and  held  to  be  accurfed  of  God  too.  Sin  is  that 
which  has  introduced  death  into  the  world  and  all 
our  wo  ;  is  that  abominable  thing  which  the  Lord 
hates ;  and,  therefore,  is  the  objed  of  the  grcatefl 
hatred  with  the  believer.  He  feeks  the  defirudioiVv 
of  it  without  mercy. 


LINN.  ayi 

From  thefe  confidcrations  we  may  fee  the  pro- 
priety and  force  of  this  expreflion,  crucified  zvitb 
.Cbriji,  aiid  all  of  the  like  kind  in  fcripture. 

In  the  lajl  place,  There  is  implied  a  felf-dcnied 
temper  towards  this  prefent  world.  Though  this 
may  be  included  in  the  former  particulars,  yet  it 
may  be  confidered  as  fomething  diftindl,  and  is  of 
importance  in  the  prefent  fubject.  God  forbid, 
fays  the  Apoftle,  that  I Jboidd gloryyfave  in  the  crojs 
of  our  Lord  Jejus  Cbrifiy  by  whom  the  world  is  crucifix 
edunto  me,  and  I  unto  the  world.  We  cannot  argue 
from  hence,  that  we  fhould  call  off  all  care  and 
concern  about  the  world ;  nor  that  every  degree  cf 
defire  after,  and  delight  in  the  things  of  the  world 
is  fmful ;  nor  yet  that  we  are  to  withdraw  ourfelves 
from  the  company  and  converfation  of  the  men  of 
the  world  :  but  that,  from  a  fenfe  of  the  vanity  and 
emptinefs  of  the  world,  our  hopes  and  expedations 
of  happinefs  ought  not  to  be  placed  upon  it,  and 
that  we  ought  to  cheerfully  part  with  every  earthly 
thing,  and  go  to  death  for  Chriff,  if  he  calls  us  to 
it.  Hear  his  own  words  :  He^  that  loveth  father  or 
mother  more  than  me^  is  not  worthy  rf  me:  and  he  ^  that 
loveth  fon  or  daughter  more  than  me,  is  7iot  worthy  of 
me.  And  he,  that  taketh  not  his  crofs  andfollozt'eih  af-* 
ier  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me.  He  that  findetb  his  life 
Jhall  lofe  it  i  and  he,  that  lofeth  his  life  for  7ny  fake fJj  all 
find  it.  He  hath  likewife,  in  this  refped,  left  us 
an  example  that  we  fhould  follow  his  fteps.  He 
v^as  denied  to  the  riclies  and  honors  of  this  world; 


1-1  LIN    N. 

and  fir  the  joy  that  was  Jet  before  himy  endured  the 
crqfsy  dejpifing  the  JJjame. 

In  the  early  days  of  the  church,  the  profeflion  of 
the  Reh'gion  of  Jefus  expofed  perfons  to  the  haz- 
ard of  their  lives  and  eftates,  and  particularly  the 
publiihers  of  the  Gofpel  could  exped:  nothing  elfe 
but  a  condant  fcene  of  difficulties  and  perfecution. 
The  Apoitle  has  recorded  many  trials  and  diflref- 
fes  which  he  encountered  ;  and,  it  is  faid,  that  he 
fuffered  a  violent  death  at  laft  :  fo  that  there  is  a 
■peculiar  emphafis  in  his  faying,  that  he  was  cruci- 
fied with  Chrilt.  Every  believer,  indeed,  ought 
to  be  a  martyr  in  his  temper,  and  hang  fo  loofe  to 
this  world  and  its  enjoyments  ;  nay,  to  life  itfelf, 
that  he  may  readily  part  with  all  to  win  Chrifl-. 

Thefe  things  are  implied  in  the  crucifixion  of 
,the  believer.     I  proceed  now, 

11.  To  confider  his  life.  Chrift  liveth  in  him  ; 
and  the  life  which  he  now  lives  in  the  flefh,  is  by 
the  faith  rfi  the  Son  of  God. 

This  is  the  divine  or  fpiritual  life,  which  he 
lives  in  confcquence  of  lin  being  mortified,  and 
the  heart  renewed.  As  he  dies  to  fm,  fo  he  rifes  to 
holinefs.  So  we  are  taught  in  thefe  words — "That 
ye  put  offy  concerning  the  former  convey f at ion^  the  old 
man^  zvhich  is  corrupt ,  according  to  the  deceitful  lufis  ; 
md  be  renezved  in  the  fpirit  of  your  mind ;  and  that 
ye  put  on  the  new  7nany  which y  after  God,  is  created  in 
right eoufnefs  and  true  holinefs.  Here  is  the  corrupt 
nature,  called  the  old  man,  which  is  put  off,  or 


L    IN    N.  273 

crucified  with  Chrift ;  and  the  fpiritual  life  called 
the  new  man,  becaufe  a  new  principle  is  infufed  ; 
and  this  new  man  is  the  image  of  God,  confiiling 
in  righteoufnefs  and  true  holinefs.  It  is  the  con- 
formity of  our  natures  to  the  holy  nature  of  God^ 
and  the  conformity  of  our  lives  to  the  will  ofGod^ 

The  manner  in  which  Chrid  lives  in  the  believ- 
er, is  by  his  holy  fpirit,  who  begins  and  carries  on 
the  divine  life.  We  cannot  make  ourfelves  alive 
to  God.  That  Almighty  power  which  called,  La^ 
zarus  comeforthy  muft  call  us  from  the  death  of  fin. 
That  divine  fpirit,  who  quickened  thedead  body  of 
the  Saviour,  when  it  lay  in  the  tomb,  mud  quick- 
en our  fouls  to  a  lifcof  o-race. — Having  be^run  the 
work,  he  carries  it  on  to  perfedion ;  and,  for  this 
purpofe,  he  dwells  and  lives  in  believers ;  incites 
holy  defires  ;  diredls  x^ao,  meditations  of  the  heart ; 
enables  them  to  overcame  and  fubduc  their  lulls ; 
firengthcns  them  under  afflidions ;  and  quickens 
them  in  the  way  of  duty.  Chrift  thus  living  in 
them,  they  are  actuated  hy  the  fame  temper,  and 
feek  the  fame  things.  They  imitate  his  example, 
and  enileavor  to  refemble  him,  as  far  as  theirna« 
ture  and  circumftances  will  admit. 

The  great  inllrument  of  this  fpiritual  life  is 
faith.  By  this  they  are  united  to  the  Son  of  God  ; 
depend  upon  his  merits  for  pardon,  and  derive  in- 
fluences for  fandiiiication.  It  is  called  the  faith  of 
the  Son  of  God,  becaufe  he  is  the  great  objecTt  of  it, 
and  becaufe  it  is  of  his  beflowing.     Perhaps  there 


274  LIN     N-. 

is  fomething  in  this  phrafe  more  peculiar  to  V.Vic 
time  in  which  the  apolVle  lived.  The  faith  of  the 
Son  of  God  ;  that  is,  a  firm  belief  that  Jefus  of 
Nazareth,  who  was  crucified  on  Calvary,  was  the 
true  and  exped:ed  McfTiah ;  that  he  Vv'as  no  im- 
poftor,  but  really  the  Son  of  God  ;  that  he  rofe  a-«- 
gain  and  afcended  up  into  Heaven ;  and  that  there 
is  forgivenefs  of  fins  through  his  blood.  Thefc 
Were  the  great  truths  upon  which  the  apofi:Ie  in- 
lifted  in  his  difcourfes,  and  propofed  for  the  belief 
of  his  hearers.  When  he  preached  at  Athens,  we 
find  that  fome  faid,  He/eemeth  to  be  a  fetter  forth  of 
flrange  Gods  ;  becaufe  he  preadoed  unto  them  Jefus,  and 
'the  refurre^ion.  To  have  a  proper  notion  how  the 
dodlrine  of  a  crucified  Saviour  appeared  at  its  firft 
publication,  we  rnuli:  imagine  ourfelves  in  their 
place,  with  all  their  prejudices  in  favor  of  a  falfe 
religion.  Among  us  wc  are  early  initiated  in  the 
Chriftian  fyllem,  and  taught  from  childhood,  that 
Jefus  is  the  Son  of  God,  the  true  and  only  Saviour ; 
and,  therefore,  we  are  in  danger  of  contenting  our- 
felves with  a  belief  merely  fpeculative.  There  was 
hot  fo  much  danger  at  the  firft  publication  of  the 
gofpel ;  becaufe  it  can  hardly  be  admitted,  that 
any  would  embrace  a  religion  fo  contrary  to  hu- 
man wifdom — attended  with  fuch  ignominy  and 
reproach — and,  withal,  expofing  its  friends  to  fo 
much  hazard  and  difficulty,  unlefs  they  felt  the 
power  of  it,  and  were  fincere  in  their  profefiion. 
What  multitudes  profefs  it  now,  whofe  lives  loud- 
ly teftify  againft  them !  If  they  believe  him  to  be 


L    I    N    X.  275 

the  Son  of  God,  where  is  the  efficacy  of  his  death 
upon  them  ?  Where  that  transformation  into  the 
divine  image,  which  always  accompanies  a  view 
of  divine  glory,  ihining  in  the  fufferings  of  this 
wonderful  perfon  ? 

Faith  in  Chrid,  as  being  the  Son  of  God,  is  that 
by  which  every  believer  lives.  Allow  me,  in  a  few 
particulars,  to  point  out  its  influence. 

Firjfy  Faith  is  that  ad  of  the  foul,  which  receives 
and  refts  upon  the  righteoufnefs  of  Chrid  for  par- 
don and  acceptance  with  God.  The  believer, 
convinced  of  his  guilt,  unworthinefs,  and  utter 
inability,  accepts  the  free  offer  of  falvation,  made 
in  the  gofpel,  as  his  only  ground  of  hope.  This 
cxercife  he  has  occafion  often  to  repeat ;  not  tb^t 
his  juftification  before  God  is  incomplete,  or.  that 
he  needs  to  be  often  jufliified ;  but  that  a^  mani- 
feflation  of  his  intercil  in  the  fulnefs  of  Chrid,  is 
necellary  to  his  encouragement  and  comforts. 

Secondly i  By  faith,  influences  are  derived,  for 
the  mortification  of  fin  and  the  promotion  of  holi- 
nefs.  He  that  abide th  in  ;/^^,  faith  Chrid,  and  I  in 
him,  the  fame  hringeth  forth  much  fruit ;  for  zvitbout 
me^ye  can  do  nothings  The  fubftance  of  thefe  things 
having  been  already  faid,  all  that  may  benecefTary 
to  add  is,  that  although  the  righteoufnefs  of  Chriit 
be  the  meritorious  caufeof  juffification,  and- the 
fpirit  of  Chrid  the  efficacious  caufe  of  fandifica- 
tion,  yet  faith  is  \\\?Lt  which  intereffs  us  in  thefc 
blefUngs,  and  is  the  mean  of  their  CQnveyance., 


276  LIN    N. 

Once  more,  Faith  influences  the  believer  to  live 
v^ith  regard  to  another  world.  It  is  defcribed  in 
the  epiftle  to  the  Hebrews,  to  be,  ihefubjlance  of 
things  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things  notfeen.  It 
is  a  confident  expectation  of  the  things  which  God 
hath  promifed.  It  realizes  the  invifible  glories  of 
a  future  ftate,  and  caufes  us  to  believe  them  as 
flrongly  as  what  we  fee  with  the  bodily  eyes.  The 
men  of  the  world  live  by  fenfe.  External  objedis 
engage  the  whole  of  their  attention  and  afFcdions. 
The  things  of  another  world  are  future  and  invifi- 
ble; and,  therefore,  they  do  not  ftrike  and  af- 
fcdl  them.  It  is  faith  which  makes  them  prcfcnt 
and  vifible. 

The  believer  feeks  a  Letter  country,  that  is  an 
heavenly.  He  knows  that  if  the  earthly  houfe  of  this 
tabernacle  vjere  diffched,  he  has  a  building  of  God,  an 
houfe  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens, — 
What  though  difficulties  befet  him  on  every  fide? 
It  is  the  promife  of  a  gracious  God,  that  all  things 
Jhall  work  together  for  his  good.  The  prefent  afflic- 
tions are  light  and  momieniary,  compared  to  an 
exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory.  What  though 
he  is  now  immured  in  frail  fiefii  and  blood  ?  Be- 
fore long  this  mortal  foall  put  on  immortality ,  and  he 
iliall  be  made  inconceivably  happy  in  the  pure 
manfions  of  heavenly  glory.  He  may  be  firipped 
of  every  earthly  comfort,  but  there  is  a  joy  which 
no  man  can  take  from  him.  Amidft  the  vain  and 
Shifting  fcencs  of  life,  he  has  an  immoveable  rock 
to  lean  upon ;    Jefus  Cbriji  the  fame  yeflcr day,  and  to 


L'   I    N    N. 


211 


iay^  and  for  ever.  Perfccutors  may  kill  the  body, 
but  the  foul  is  incapable  of  iniiiiy.  This  heavenly 
fpark  fliall  furvive  the  rage  of  men,  and  the  malice 
of  devils;  afcend  to  the  God  of  all  <confolation ; 
be  re-united  i:o  the  body,  fafhioned  like  unto  the 
glorious  body  of  Chrill,  and  be  ever  i,vith  him. 

Faith  prefenting  thefe  things,  aivii  affording  a 
fure  expectation  of  them,  influences  tlie  Chrifriaa 
to  live  above   this  world;  and  to  raife  his  views 

to  an  inheritance  incorruptible^  and.  undefih^d,  and  thik 
fadcth  not  away,  rejervcd  in  heaven  for  him. 

Let  us  now  turn  our  attention  to  fomc  im- 
provement of  this  fubjed:. 

jp/r/?.  Learn,  my  brethren,  that  the  Religion  of 
Jefus,  leads  to  llrid:  holinefs  of  heart  and  life.  If 
any  tell  you,  that  the  dodlrine  of  falvatic>n> 
through  the  imputed  rightcoufnefs  of  Chrifl,  en- 
courages fin,  believe  them  not;  for  fcripture  and 
experience  contradid:  it.  Who  live  the  befl  ?~ 
Thofe  who  contend  for  free  grace,  or  thofc  wiho 
reft  upon  their  works?  It  too  often  happens,  tl^at 
thofe  who  boaft  of  their  works,  have  the  leaft  to 
{how ;  and  there  is  reafon  to  believe,  that  tl^ey 
have  never,  fufficiently,  {ctw  the  depravity  of  tlleir 
own  hearts,  and  the  fpirituality  and  extent  of  the 
divine  law. 

While  we  are  juftified  freely  through  the  re- 
demption that  is  in  Chrift,  including  both  his  sic- 
tive  and  paflive  obedience,  there  is  the  powerful 


27S  L    I    N    N. 

operation  of  grace  to  form  the  heart.  Shall  it  be 
faid,  if  Chtill:  obeyed  the  preceptive  part  of  the 
law  in  our  room,  what  obedience  is  left  for  us  ^ 
This  very  objection,  in  fubflance,  has  been  anfwer- 
ed  long  ago,  by  an  infpired  pen.  Shall  we  conti- 
nue in  fiHy  that  grace  may  ahotmdf'  God  forbid:  how 
JJoallwe  that  are  dead  to  Jin,  live  any  longer  therein?' 
A  depcndancc  upon  the  acftive  obedience  of  Chrifl", 
for  a  title  to  eternal  life,  and  obedience  in  our  owa 
perfons  are  riot  inconfiflent  either  in  fentiment  or 
pradice.  For  he  th::t  is  deady  is  freed  from  fin. 
Now  if  we  he  dead  tvith  Chrijl,  we  believe  that  zve^ 
fhall  alfo  live  with  him.  It  is  impoflible  that  be- 
lievers (hould  live  in  fin  ;  becaufc  it  is  weakened 
on  their  fird  union  with  Chrifl,  and  afterwards 
gradually  deftroyed.  Grace  is  communicated  for 
this  purpofe,  and  their  obligations  to  obedience 
are  infinite.  The  love  of  Chrifb  conflrains  them-. 
It  certainly  affords  a  moft  encouraging  reflecflion, 
that  in  the  Lord,  is  not  only  righteoufnefs  but 
Hrength.  This  is  a  fource  of  joy  and  comfort:. 
This  quickens  and  animates  in  the  ways  of  holinefs. 

Secondly y  This  fubjed  ought  to  be  faithfully  im^ 
proved  for  the  trial  of  ourfelves.  As  far  as  we 
hear  with  application,  fo  far  we  hear  properl);. 
When  we  hear  the  ftate  of  a  behever  defcribed,. 
ought  wc  not  to  aflc  ourfelves,  have  we  experienced 
any  thing  like  it?  Or,  13  it  new,  ftrange,  and  un- 
intelligible to  us  ? — Thefe  things  concern  us  all, 
and  require  our  attention  now,  as  much  as  when 
ihey  were  fird  written ;  for  it*  ever  will  rcmaiji 


LINN.  179- 

true,  that  the  believer  is  crucified  with  Chrift; 
that  Chrift  lives  in  him  ;  and  that  he  lives  by  faith, 
in  the  manner  which  has  been  explained.  Know 
ye,  then,  what  thefe  mean  ?  Have  you  rcafon  to 
believe  that  you  are  interefted  in  the  merits  of 
Chrift  ?  Is  the  power  of  fm  broken  in  your  fouls? 
Do  you  dcfire  the  death  of  it,  root  and  branch  ? 
Do  you  know  what  it  is  to  live  by  faith?  Have 
you  ever  had  fuch  an  affedling  view  of  the  Son  of 
God  fuffering  in  the  room  of  fmners,  that  your 
hearts  were  melted  to  genuine  forrow  for  fin,  and 
you  made  willing  to  furrender  yourfelves  without 
refervc  to  him?  And  have  you  been  frequently 
ufcd  to  fuch  exercifes  ? 

•  Perhaps,  fome  are  faying,  "  We  have  never  been 
able  to  anfwer  thefe  queftions  fatisfa6torily  to  our- 
felves.  At  times,  we  have  had  ground  of  hope, 
but  prefently  we  were  in  darknefs  again.  We  find 
the  principle  of  fin  fo  (Irong  within  us,  that  we 
fear  it  has  never  been  crucified.  Evil  thoughts, 
in  multitudes,  break  in  upon  us ;  our  affedions 
are  fo  earthly  ;  we  feel  fuch  coldnefs  and  wander- 
ing in  duty ;  nay,  fomctimes  fm  appears  to  have 
the  entire  fway ;  and  therefore,  we  are  ready  to 
conclude,  that  we  arc  not  the  children  of  God." 
If  you  are  fenfible  of  thefe  things  ;  if  you  ffrivc  a- 
againfl:  them ;  and  if  you  fpread  them  as  matter 
of  complaint  before  God,  they  do  not  make  againfl 
you.  It  is  not  expedlcd  that  fm  fliould  be  fully 
dead.  Live  and  ftir  it  will ;  elfe  there  w^ould  be 
no  occafion  of  a  warfare.     If  there  were  no  pain 


^8o  LINN. 

and  Urugglc,  and  groaning,  where  would  be  the 
propriety  of  caDing  it  a  crucifixion  ?  The  queftion 
is.  Do  you  truly  hate  all  fin,  and  defire  deliver- 
ance from  it  more  than  from  any  thing  befides  ? 
Is  the  way  of  falvation  precious  to  you  on  this  ve- 
ry account,  becaufe  it  has  provided  for  the  death 
of  fin?  Have  you  often  an  affedling  fenfe  of  the 
holy  nature  of  God,  and  your  great  difconibrmityr 
to  him  ?  Can  you  adopt  the  language  of  the  Pfalm- 
ift,  1  have  Jeen  an  end  of  all  perfe^ion  ;  but  thy  com^ 
$nandment  is  exceeding  broad f  The  more  you  have 
of  this  exercife,the^nicre  it  evinces  the  truth  of  your 
Religion.  It  is  a  bad  lign,  when  we  find,  in  our- 
felves,  no  caufe  of  complaint. 

Some,  it  may  be,  have  blafphemous  thoughts 
faggefl'ed  to  their  minds ;  are  tempted  to  doubt 
the  very  exiftence  of  a  God,  and  the  reality  of  all 
Religion.  Neither  is  this  an  evidence  of  the  want 
of  grace ;  but  that  Satan  dclires  to  fift  them  as 
uoheat.  A  perfon  is  not  accountable  for  thefc 
thoughts,  unlefs  they  are  harbored  and  encouraged 
i«  his  breaft. 

Examine^  then,  and  try  yourfelves. — Beware  of 
-prefumption  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  tempting 
God  on  the  other,  by  defpifing  the  day  of  fmall 
thino's.  If  you  dcfire,  above  all,  the  favor  of  God; 
if  you  would  not  willingly  indulge  yourfelves  in 
any  known  fin  ;  if  you  are  endeavoring  to  have 
your  hearts  right  with  God,  and  are  fincerely  en- 
gaged in  the  way  of  duty :  though  iniquities  pre- 


^rp 


f^ 


LINN,  281 

vail  againft  you,  and  though  you  walk  in  darkncf^ 
and  have  no  light,  yet  there  is  reafon  to  cxpeft 
that  God  will,  in  due  time,  lift  up  the  light  of  his 
countenance  upon  you,  and  put  gladnefs  in  your 
hearts.  JFait  on  the  Lord:  be  of  good  courage y  and 
befiall  Jlrengthcn  ihine  heart :  zvait  I  fay  on  the  Lord^ 

But  do  not  Ibme  of  you,  my  hearers,  know,  up- 
on refleclion,  that  you  are  Grangers  to  the  exercifes 
which  have  been  defcribed  ?  The  natural  man  re- 
ceiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Jplr it  of  God :  for  they  are 
foolijhnefs  unto  hivi ;  neither  can  he  knozv  them,  becauf* 
they  are  fpiriiually  difcerned.     Crucified   and  yen 
live  !  Not  live,  but  Chrift  lives  in  them !  Live  a 
natural  life,  and  yet  by  fc^ith,  a  fpiritual  one !  Oii 
earth,  and  yet  the  affecl:ions  and  converfation  irx 
Heaven  1  What  paradoxes  are  thefe  !  How  myfte- 
rious  and  difficult  a  thing  to  be  a  Chriilian! — O 
beilir  yourfelves   and   ici  about  the  great  work. 
Dream  not  of  happinefs  while  you  are  lecure  and 
unconcerned.     While  fm  reigns  in  you,  and  whiiq 
you  neglect  the  means  of  grace,  on  what  founda- 
tion can  you  hope  for  eternal  life  ?  By  nature,  you 
are  oppofed  to  good,  and  wholly  inclined  to  eviij 
and  unlefs  changed  by  grace,  you  can  never  inhe- 
rit the  kingdom  of  God.     You  mud  be  crucified 
to  your  own  righteoufnefs,  to  your  luiis,  and  to  th- 
world,  if  ever  you  arrive  thcie.     It  is  no  matter 
what  any  man  profcfTe;.-;,   that  is,  it  will  not  avail 
for  his  falvation,  unlefs  it  influence  the  practice  5 
pnlefs  the  Son  of  God  cover  the  foul  with  his  per- 
fect righteoufncf;,  andi  imprefs  on  it  the  divine 

M  lu 


282  LINN. 

image.  To  this  I  would  bring  you,  my  hearers, 
and  unlefs  you  are  brought  to  this,  though  your 
fouls  were  worth  ten  thoufand  worlds,  they  mud 
fall  under  the  juilice  of  the  great  and  terrible  God. 

Suffer  the  word  of  exhortation,  to  turn  and  live. 
Thofe  iins  you  fo  dearly  love  will  be  your  ruin. 
Be  perfuaded  to  part  with  them.  Your  carnal 
joys  and  pleafures  will  lead  you  down  to  the  regi- 
on of  forrow.  Be  entreated  to  difmifs  them.  You 
walk  on  a  dreadful  flippery  precipice,  and  be- 
neath you  are  everlafling  burnings.  Proceed  not 
a  Hep  further.  While  there  is  hope,  turn.  Be- 
take you  to  the  duties  of  Religion.  Call  upon  the 
Lord,  that  you  perifli  not.  Lay  hold  on  the  righ- 
teoufnefs  of  Chrifl.  He  is  able  and  willing  to  favc 
you.  You  ought  not  to  helirate  a  moment,  when 
your  all  is  at  flake.  Receive  an  offered  Saviour, 
and  you  fliall  be  happy  in  foul  and  body  for  ever. 
Negled  him,  and  you  miuft  be  eternally  wretched. 
There  is  falvation  in  no  other;  and  there  is  a  com- 
plete one  in  him.  There  is  the  pardon  of  fin,  by 
his  blood,  and  the  death  of  fin  by  his  fpirit.  There 
is  peace  of  confcience,  guidance  through  life,  com- 
fort in  trouble,  joy  more  than  can  be  exprtlfed, 
with  every  necelfary  grace  ;  and  a  happinefs  after 
dearth,  rifing  to  the  very  height  of  your  wifhesand 
lading  as  God  himfelf  Why  then  fliould  you 
continue  in  the  love  and  pradVice  of  fin  ?  Why  in 
the  neglccl  of  known  duty  ?  Why  fhould  Religion 
be  deferred  for  a  finglc  day  or  hour  ?  Have  not 
fome  of  you  deferred  it  fo  often  already,  as  to  con- 


LINN.  283 

Vince  ybu  that  this  is  the  mod  grofs  delufion  ? 
Think  not  of  a  time  to  come.  We  truft  in  vain 
to  futurity.  Before  the  fetting  fun,  your  eyes  and 
mine  may  be  clofed  in  the  fleep  of  death.  Behold, 
now  is  the  accepted  time;  behold,  now  is  the  day  of 
Jalvation.  This  day,  and  not  the  next ;  this  hour, 
and  not  the  next ;  this  moment,  and  not  the  next. 
Whaljoever  thy  handfindeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might; 
for  there  is  no  work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor 
wijdmn,  in  the  grave  whither  thou  goeji. 

To  conclude,  thofe  of  you,  my  brethren,  whofe 
confciences  teftify,  that  you  are  not  ftrangers  to 
thefe  fpiritual  exercifes,  drive  to  grow  more  and 
more  in  conformity  to  God.  This  is  the  beft  e- 
vidence  of  your  fmcerity.  You  have  not  already 
attained,  neither  are  already  perfect. — Learn  that 
your  only  help  is  laid  on  the  righteoufnefs  and 
Hrength  of  your  exalted  Redeemer.  Live  by  faith 
in  him.  Ofhisfulnefs  receive,  and  grace  for  grace. 
Be  not  difcouragcd  under  any  difficulties ;  being 
confident  of  this  very  thing,  that  he  zvhich  hath  begun  a 
good  zvork  in  you,  will  perform  it  until  the  day  ofjefus 
Chriji:  Unto  them  that  look  for  him  flo  all  he  appear  the 
fecond  time,  without  fin,  untofalvation. 


i 


^ 


SERMON     XIV.^^ 

The  CHARACTER  AND   MISERY  of 
THE   WICKED. 

B  y 
m  I  L  L  I  A   M     L  I  N  N,      D.  D. 

One  of  the  Miniflers  of  the  Reformed  Dutch  Church,  New-York. 


Isaiah     Ivii.    2r. 

There  is  no  peace,  faith  my  God,  to  the  wicked, 

YOU  will  eafily  remember,  my  brethren,  that 
fome  time  ago,  I  had  the  happinefs  of  ad- 
drelTing  you  on  the  profpecl  of  a  fafe  and  honora- 
ble peace  being  reliored  to  our  diftrelTed  land.--* 
You  were  then  pleafed  to  hear  mc  with  attention  ; 
find  your  patriotifm  kindly  approved  what  was 
fincerely  aimed  to  exprefs  our  joy,  and  excite  our 
gratitude  to  the  munificent  Donor  of  all  things. 
It  is  hoped  that  we  and  fucceeding  generations, 
will  continue  to  enjoy  temporal  peace  and  prof- 
perity. 

Note. 

*  TJie  two  following  Sermons  were  written  and  preached  ;n 
Pcnnfylvania,  foon  after  the  eftabllflimcnt  of  pence,  in  the  year 
J?!^.3.  Several  reafons  have  induced  the  author  to  retain  nearly 
I '.c  original  form* 


286  LINN. 

But,  while  we  rejoice  in  the  goodnefs  of  the 
Lord,  we  ought  to  remember,  that  our  duration 
in  this  world  is  fhort — that  only  they  can  be  hap- 
py who  enjoy  the  divine  favor — nay,  that  without 
rhis,  prcfent  advantages  will  make  our  condemn- 
ation, at  lafl",  the  more  terrible.  Let  none,  there- 
fore, fay  to  their  fouls,  "  Take  your  eafe — the  de- 
flation of  war  is  now  over-^our  difficulties  are  re- 
moved— and  peace  and  plenty  have  once  more 
taken  up  their  habitation  with  us ;" — for  the  Lord 
declares,  in  the  words  of  the  text,  nere  is  no  peace 
to  the  wicked.  Though  the  long  and  bloody  con- 
flict is  at  an  end,  yet  if  we  have  not  a  proper  tem- 
per towards  God,  we  are  ftill  in  the  utmofl:  dan- 
ger ;  if  not  in  this  world,  yet  in  that  which  is  to 
come ;  when  he  will  render  to  every  one  accord- 
ing to  his  works,  and  pour  out  his  wrath  on  the 
«   wicked  without  any  mixture  of  mercy. 

To  alarm  our  fears,  and  excite  us  to  feek  the 
Lord  while  he  may  be  found,  I  ihall,  with  plain- 
nefs  and  freedom,  fliow,  Firfty  Who  come  under 
the  defcription  of  the  wicked;  and.  Secondly  j\n 
what  refpecls  there  is  no  peace  to  fuch.  - 

L  In  general,  all  they  are  properly  denominated 
wicked  who  have  never  undergone  a  change  of 
heart.  Mankind,  by  nature,  have  no  inclination 
to  tl\e  fervice  of  God.  They  are  reprefented  in 
fcripture,  as  'without  firengih  and  ungodly — as  dead 
in  trejpajje:s  ajtd  fins — as  enemies  in  their  minds  by 
nicked  works,  and  even  as  cnviity  itfclf  againft  God- 


L    I    N    N.  287 

Hence  arifes  the  neceflity  of  a  great  and  fuperna-i 
tural  change ;  which  our  Saviour  compares  to  a 
Jecond  birth ;  and  it  is  fet  forth  by  other  fimilitudes 
in  the  writings  of  the  apoflles.  It  is  likened  to  a 
re/urrefJion — to  a  nezv  creation — to  a  trayiflaticnfroiii 
darhiefs  to  light;  all  which  teach  us,  that  before 
we  can  be  accepted  of  God,  and  entitled  to  his 
favor,  fome  extraordinary  work  mull  take  place 
upon  us.  To  deny  this,  we  mud  rejedl  both  rea- 
-fon  and  revelation  ;  for  both  confpire  in  declaring 
that  man  is  degenerate,  and  that  while  he  contin- 
ues in  this  ftate,  he  cannot  have  communion  with 
a  holy  God.  As  foon  might  we  reconcile  light 
and  darknefs,  or  bring  the  moll  oppofire  extremes 
together. 

Whatever  kinds,  and  whatever  degrees  of 
wickednefs  there  are,  they  all  proceed  from  an  in- 
nate depravity  of  mind.  Hear  the  words  of  Chrift ; 
For  from  zvithin,  out  of  the  heart  of  man,  proceed  evil 
ihoughts,  adulteries y  fornicaiimiSy  n'mrders,  theft s,  cov^ 
etoufnefsy  zvickednefs,  deceit,  lacivioufnefsy  an  evil  eye, 
hlafpherny,  pride yfoolijbnefs  ;  all  thefe  evil  things  come 
from  within.  Every  unrenewed  perfon  has,  in  his 
nature,  the  feeds  of  all  evil ;  and  which  appeair 
more  or  lefs  in  his  life,  according  as  opportuni- 
ties arc  afforded  to  nourifli  and  fcrengthen  them, 
ToaffilV  us  in  judging  the  better  of  our  own  cha- 
radlcrs,  let  us  attend  to  the  different  ways  in  which 
this  root  of  bitternefs  difcovers  itfelf. 

Firft,  Some  are  grofsly   ignorant  of  the  plain 
and  ellcntial  doctrines  of  the  Chriilian  Religion, 


2^  L    I    N    N. 

jimidfl:  the  befl:  means  to  gain  an  acquaintance 
with  them.  Though  the  Icriptures  are  in  their 
poiTcHion,  together  with  excellent  helps  by  the 
writings  of  pious  men,  and  infirudiions  from  the 
pulpit,  yet  they  are  unable  to  give  any  fatisfaclio-^ 
ry  account  of  thofe  truths,  on  which  their  eternal 
falvation  depends.  This  is  not  occafioned  by  want 
of  capacity,  but  by  utter  negled  of  divine  things, 
and  argues  their  fpiritual  death.  The  holy  ora-« 
<:les,  which  contain  the  words  of  eternal  life,  negr- 
jededj  gather  duft;  while  books  of  amufement  and 
x^arthly  purfuits  employ  the  whole  of  their  time, 
Thefe  fwallow  up  their  thoughts  through  the  day, 
,and  recline  with  them  on  their  pillow  at  night, 
Thefe  will  not  allow  them  to  remember  the  fab" 
bath-day  to  keep  it  holy. 

We  find  many  of  this  charadler  who  are  wife  in 
their  own  conceit,  for  pride  and  ignorance  moftly 
jd  well  together.  "We  have,"  fay  they,  "a  fuffii- 
cient  knowledge  of  our  duty,  and  we  need  not  be 
informed  of  it.  If  wc  ad:  wrong,  the  blame  is  our 
own,  and  we  know  not,  why  any  one  fliould  inter- 
meddle with  our  bufinefs."  Well  might  Solo- 
mon fay,  Tbere  is  more  hope  of  a  foal  than  of  fucb 
perfons.  Their  minds  arc  dark,  and  they  have 
clofed  every  avenue  by  which  light  might  enter. 
Every  one  that  doeth  evil  hat eth  the  light y  neither  cometk 
to  the  light,  left  his  deeds  ftmdd  be  reproved.  Be  af- 
fured  there  can  be  no  true  Religion  without  a  good 
meafure  of  knowledge,  and  a  dclire  of  growing  'v\ 


t    I    N    N.  2^ 

it.  We  cannot  love  and  worfliip  an  unknown 
God.  Whoever  among  you  are  ignorant  of  the 
great  truths  of  revelation,  are  in  darknefs  even  un- 
til now. 

Secondly^  Some  break  out  into  open  adls  of  wick- 
ednefs.     Such  are  drunkards,  fwearers,  unclean 
perfons,  extortioners,  fabbath  breakers  and  mock- 
ers at  Religion.     Thefe   are  they  whofe  fms  are 
open  beforehand^  going  before  to  judgment.     Were  we 
to  rank  no  others,  under  the  gofpel,  in  the  clafs  of 
the  wicked,  but  thefe,  how  great  a  number  would 
be  found  1  Reckon  even  common  fwearers,  thofe 
audacious  men,  who  call  for  the  vengeance  of  a 
God  upon  themfelves  and  others,  as  well  as  ufe 
the  names  of  Lord  and  Chrift,  and  facred  things 
with  irreverent  lips:  and  we  muft  reckon — how 
dreadful  to  tell  it!    multitudes,   who  have  been 
baptized  and  educated  among  profelling  Chrilti- 
ans.     When  to  thefe  we  add,  lafcivious  talkers 
and  adlors,  infatiable  lovers  of  ftrong  drink,  thofe 
who  fpend  the  fabbath  in  fleep,  in   vifiting,  in 
worldly  thoughts  and  converfation,  or  in  worfe; 
thofe  who  fuppofe  that^^/«  is  godiinefs  ;  who  cheat 
and  over-reach  their  neighbor ;  and  thofe  whofe 
wit  never  (bines  but  in  making  a  jefl:  of  the  Bible, 
and  ferious  perfons,  how  does  the  difmal  catalogue 
fwell!  furely  it  will  be  agreed  that  all  fuch  charac- 
ters are  wicked ;  and  that  none  of  thefe y^^//  inhe^ 
rit  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Thirdly f  Others,  though  free  from  grofs  immo- 
ralities, are  yet  wicked,  becaufc  they  negled  thq 

N  n 


290  LIN    K 

duties  of  Religion.  There  are  fins  of  commiilion 
and  there  are  fins  of  omiflion.  We  are  guilty  be- 
fore God,  when  we  do  nor  perform  what  he  hath 
enjoined,  as  well  as  when  we  commit  what  he  hath 
forbidden.  All,  therefore,  who  live  in  the  habi- 
tual omiflion  of  what  is  required,  come  fhort  of, 
and  will  be  condemned  by  that  law  which  is  holy, 
juft  and  good.  Not  only  is  the  unjuft  man  a  fm- 
ner,  but  the  uncharitable  alfo;  not  only  he  that 
curfeth  his  father  and  mother,  but  he  that  honor- 
€th  them  not ;  not  only  the  profane  but  the  pray- 
crlefs.  We  muft  not  divide  the  law  in  our  prac- 
tice. One  part  muft  be  done,  and  the  other  not 
left  undone.  IVbofoe'ver  Jhall  keep  ihe  whole  law, 
and  yet  offend  in  one  pointy  he  is  guilty  of  all.  "  Some 
lins  in  themfelves,  and  by  reafon  of  feveral  aggra- 
vations, are  more  heinous  in  the  fight  of  God  than 
others,  but  every  fin  deferveth  God's  wrath  and 
curfe  both  in  this  life  and  that  which  is  to  come.'* 
The  impious  wretch,  whofe  mouth  is  full  of  blaf- 
phemy  and  deceit,  may  deferve  a  more  dreadful 
punifliment;  and  yet  the  prayerlefs  perfon  will  go 
down  to  mifery  as  furely  as  he. 

Having  mentioned  the  important  duty  of  prayer, 
allow  me  to  fay,  that  it  is  with  an  ill  face  that 
any,  who  profefs  themfelves  to  be  Chriftians,  neg- 
led  it  in  their  families.  Social,  as  well  as  fecret 
worlliip,  is  indifpenfably  necelHiry.  Thofe  who 
omit  it,  do  not  diftinguifh  themfelves  from  the  un^ 
godly  world,  and  arc  unworthy  of  the  privileges 


LINN.  291 

of  the  church.  Such  ought  to  think  ferloufly  of 
ihefe  words  of  Chrift — WhoJoeveVy  therefore ^  Jhall 
co7jfefi  me  before  meriy  him  will  I  confefs.  alfo  before  my 
Father  which  is  in  Heaven,  But  zvhofoeverfball  deny 
me,  before  men,  him  infill  I  alfo  deny  before  my  Father 
which  is  in  Heaven.  What  fhall  be  faid  of  fome, 
fodeftitute  of  any  form  of  Religion,  that  they 
omit,  what  is  called,  faying  grace  before  meat,  or 
afking  the  blelling  of  God  on  their  food  ?  It  is  not 
the  fnecr  of  fools,  nor  the  raillery  of  the  profane, 
fhould  put  us  out  of  the  practice  of  what  is  war- 
ranted in  fcriprure;  confonant  to  reafon,  and  cuf- 
tomary  among  all  denominations  of  Chriftians 
whatfoever.  The  perfon  who  does  not  often  rea- 
lize his  dependance  upon  God  ;  who  does  not  in 
every  thing  give  thanks ;  and  who  does  not,  on 
proper  occalions,  openly  acknov/ledge  God,  by  cal- 
ling onhis  name,  has  no  title  to  be  thought  religious ; 
elfc,  there  is  no  criterion,  by  which  to  judge  at  all. 

In  former  days,  many  confelTed  Chriil  at  the  ha- 
zard, and  even  the  lofs  of  their  lives.  Have  we 
found  an  eafier  way  to  Heaven  ?  Can  we  go  there, 
without  any  confcfFion  ?  Is  religion  of  fuch  a  na- 
ture that  we  may  mould  it  as  we  pleafe?  Thefafh- 
ion  of  this  world  palTeth  away,  bur  be  alTured,  God 
;ind  religion  are  ever  the  fame.  The  divine  precepts 
will  not  bend  to  you.  They  are  fixed  and  immu- 
table. On  no  other  terms  can  you,  be  a  difciple 
of  Chrift,  than  by  taking  up  your  crofs  and  following 
^fUr  him.     If  the  world  deride  vou  as  fliff  and  un- 


292  LIN    N. 

fafhionable,  it  is  a  perfecution  you  mud  fuffer  for 
his  name's  fake.  He  hath  faid.  He  that  findeth  his 
lifejhall  lofe  it:  and  he  that  lofeth  his  life  for  my  fake 
fhalljind  it. 

Fourthly y  There  are  fome,  who  adopt  loofe  and 
dangerous  principles ;  who  aliedge,  either  that  the 
fcripture  is  not  true,  or  that  the  great  dodlrines,  as 
generally  taught,  are  not  contained  in  it.  Thefe 
iare  wicked,  and  they  are  corrupters  of  others. 
Too  commonly  they  are  licentious  in  their  prac- 
tice, and  fwclled  w^th  a  conceit  of  their  own  abi- 
lities. 

It  is  not  eafy  to  pcrfifl  in  a  courfe  of  iniquity, 
without  fomething  to  quiet  the  confcience  ;  and, 
therefore,  have  fome  endeavored  to  overturn  reve- 
lation, or  at  lead  to  adapt  it  to  their  own  depraved 
inclination.  The  infidel  or  deift  is  a  perfon  of 
fuch  great  ftrength  of  reafon,  that  he  {^t^  no  need 
of  the  fcripture,  his  own  reafon  teaching  him  all 
that  is  ncceffary  ;  he  is  of  fuch  prodigious  modef- 
ty,  that  he  views  all  the  world  around  him,  even 
thofe  of  fuperior  talents,  as  a  number  of  fuperftiti- 
ous  fools ;  his  genius  is  fo  piercing  as  to  difcover 
that  the  Chriflian  Religion  is  the  device  of  rulers 
and  cunning  priefts,  to  keep  the  world  in  awe;  and 
he  widies  to  perform  the  mighty  ferviceof  fctting 
mankind  free  from  the  (hackles  wherewith  they 
have  been  bound  for  fo  many  ages.  To  treat  him 
with  ridicule  is  no  more  than  ju ft  retaliation.  It 
is  the  beft  weapon  the  Dcift  has,  and  of  which  he 


LINN.  293 

is  extremely  fond  ;  fo  much  fo,  that  one  writer  has 
made  it  the  only  proper  teft  of  truth.*  The  fecret 
motive  however,  which  leads  many  of  this  charac- 
ter to  ^  rejeclion  of  fcripture,  is  the  defire  of  being 
free  from  its  reftraints.  They  are  wedded  to  their 
lufts,  anil  thefe  and  the  fcripture  are  irreconcilea- 
blc.  Unhappy  men  !  engaged  in  an  undertaking" 
dcfperate  and  impoflible;  like  one  who  attempts 
to  flop  the  fun,  or  remove  a  mountain.  The 
words  which  are  floried  of  the  apoilate  Julian, 
when  mortally  wounded  in  fighting  againft  Chrif- 
tians,  will  be  the  doleful,  dying  fong,  of  every  de- 
termined infidel ;  "  Thou  haft  conquered  me,  O 
Galilean. ' '  Whofoever  Jh  all  fall  on  this  fione  Jhall  be 
broken;  but  on  whomjoever  it  Jhall  fall ^  it  will  grind 
him  to  pozvder. 

Though  revelation  be  not  altogether  denied  by 
others,  yet  it  is  wrefted  to  fuit  the  depraved  taftc 
of  mankind.  They  fet  up  corrupt  reafon  in  op- 
pofition  to  faith,  and  adopt  principles  which  lead 
to  licentioufnefs.  Not  to  be  particular  here,  fuf- 
fice  it  to  fay,  that  the  dodrines  of  man's  depravi- 
ty, inability,  and  falvation  by  grace,  through  faith 
in  the  imputed  righteoufnefs  of  Chrill,  as  they  arc 
taught  in  the  divine  word,  fo  they  h:ive  been  al- 
ways fuccefsful  for  the  converlion  of  finners,  and 
the  edification  of  faints.  They  who  oppofe  thefe 
fet  themfelves  in  oppolition  to  God,  and  feek  to 
lay  other  foundation  thun  what  he  hath  laid.     In- 

*  Shaftftury. 


294  LINN. 

deed  it  is  to  be  expcdlcd,  that  infidelity  and  dan-* 
gerous  opinions,  will  have  a  more  rapid  growth  in 
this  country  than  heretofore.  In  every  age,  have 
they  fprung  up  to  trouble  the  church.  They  will 
be  imported  from  abroad,  with  other  things  inju- 
rious to  our  intereft  and  happinefs  ;  as  well  as,  that 
they  naturally  increafe  with  population  and  luxury. 

Fifthly y  Among  the  wicked,  we  mud  alfo  rank 
the  formalift  and  the  hypocrite.  Though  thefe 
are  mentioned  together,  yet  they  are  of  very  differ- 
ent defcription.  The  formalift  is  one,  who  has 
the  form  of  religion  ;  fubmits  to  the  drudgery  of 
performing  duty,  which  he  has  no  fpi ritual  life  or 
llrength ;  he  deceives  himfelf ;  whereas  the  ex- 
prefs  deiign  of  the  hypocrite,  is  to  deceive  others. 
Of  the  firft  the  apoftle  fpeaks,  when  he  fays,  Hav^ 
tug  a  form  of  godlinefsy  but  denying  the  power  thereof. 
However  exadt  he  may  be  in  his  cold  and  even 
round  of  duties,  yet  his  heart  is  not  right  with 
God  ;  and  perhaps  he  indulges  himfelf  in  fm,  truft- 
ing  to  his  form  to  fave  him.  Of  hypocrify  our 
Saviour  gives  a  defcription,  when  he  fays,  PVhen 
thou  dojl  thine  ahns,  do  not  found  a  trumpet  before  thee, 
as  the  hypocrites  do,  in  ihefynagogues  and  in  theflreets, 
that  they  may  have  glory  of  men.  And  when  thou 
pray  eft  y  thou  JIj  all  not  be  as  the  hypocrites  are;  for  they 
love  topravftanding  in  thefynagoguesy  and  in  the  corners 
of  the  firectSy  that  they  may  befeen  of  men.  We  have 
a  remarkable  inftancc  of  it  in  the  Pharifees  of  old. 
They  devoured  "dvidoivs'  houfes,  and  for  a  pretence  made 


LINN.  29s 

long  pr avers.  Who  would  have  thought  that  fo 
excellent  a  thing  as  religion  would  be  ^o  bafely  a- 
bufed?  That  men  with  this  cloak,  would  cover 
their  villainies  ?  Their  condud:  is  extremely  fool- 
ilh  and  defperately  wicked. 

Once  more,  I  may  mention,  as  defcriptive  of  the 
wicked,  that  they  are  impatient  of  reiiraint  and 
reproof.  They  cannot  bear  to  be  checked  in  their 
mad  career  of  fin  and  folly;  and  the  faithful  rc^ 
prover,  if  fuch  be  found,  is  hated  and  avoided. 
The  very  fight  and  example  of  the  godly  is  a  fecret 
reproof  to  the  wicked  ;  it  is  a  contrail  to  their  ov/ri 
conduct;  gives  them  difagrccablc  feelings  ;  and, 
therefore,  they  flrive  to  be  out  of  the  way.  Some- 
times they  are  fo  bold  as  to  expofe,  in  a  ludicrous 
manner,  every  appearance  of  fincerity  ;  and  laugh 
and  jell  merely  to  keep  thcmfclvcs  in  countenance* 

The  preacher  who  fecks  to  faye  himfelf  and 
them  that  hear  him,  by  telling  them  plainly  of  thcit 
fins,  and  denouncing  the  judgments  of  God,  is 
thought  rigid  and  fevere.  Ahab,  the  king  of  Ifrael, 
faid  of  Micaiah,  the  fon  of  Imla,  I  bate  bimyforhe 
never  prophefwth  good  unto  me,  but  alzvnys  cviL  The 
difcourfe  which  flows  fmooth  and  even,  dwelling 
on  generals,  not  diredled  to  the  confcicncc,  nor 
fuiners  purfued  in  it  by  the  terrors  of  tiie  Lord,  is 
rnofl  applauded.  It  is  related  as  hdc  of  a  preach- 
er, who  had  arrived  at  fo  great  perfeciilion  in  adapt* 
ing  himfelf  to  delicate  ears,  that  he  once  told  his 
hearers,  "If  they  did  not  vouchfafe  to  give  a  new 


296  LINN. 

turn  to  their  lives,  they  would  go  to  a  place  he  did 
not  choofe  to  name  in  fo  courtly  an  audience."  It 
is  no  breach  of  charity  to  fay,  that  fuch  preachers 
and  their  hearers  are  in  danger  of  going  down  to 
hell,  and  enduring  never-ceafing  torments,  of  , 
which,  we  Ihould  now  often  hear  and  think,  that 
fo  we  may  be  excited  to  lay  hold  upon  the  hope 
fet  before  us.  If  danger  is  not  known,  how  fliall 
it  be  Ihunned  ?  We  do  not  preach  you  /o,  hut  from 
thefe  everlafting  burnings.  If  our  own  hearts  do 
not  condemn  us,  why  fliould  we  fear  ?  If  they  do, 
O!  what  madnefs  to  fliut  our  eyes,  and  wander 
heedlefsly  on!  Will  this  make  the  danger  lefs? 
What  fearfulnefs  mud  feize  fuch,  when  they  come 
to  (land  on  the  brink  of  the  awful  pit  1 

That  there  is  an  improper  method  of  reproving 
finners,  is  certain ;  a  method,  tending  more  to  dif- 
guft  than  edify  even  pious  ears.  The  wrath  ofvmn 
worketh  not  the  right eoujnejs  of  God,  There  are  ma- 
ny defcriptions  of  Heaven  and  Hell  to  no  purpofe, 
or  worfe.  Eye  hath  noifeen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither 
hath  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  one  or  the  o- 
thcr.  The  joys  of  the  one,  and  the  terrors  of  the 
other,  are  belt  reprefcnted  in  the  language  of  facred 
writ.  BcHdes,  the  word  of  God  is  quick  and  power^ 
fill,  and  JJjarper  than  any  tzvo-edged  fword;  and  is 
that  infirument  by  which,  in  his  difpcnfation  of 
grace,  he  wounds  and  he  heals. 


SERMON     XV. 

The  character  and    MISERY  of 
THE   WICKED, 

B    Y 

WILLIAM     LINN,      D.  D. 

One  of  the  Minlfters  of  the  Reformed  Dutch  Church,  New-York, 


Isaiah     Ivii.    2r. 
^bere  is  no  peace,  faith  my  God,  to  the  wicked* 

HAVING  endeavored,  in  a  former  difcourfe, 
fo  to  defcribe  the  v/icked,  as  that  we  might 
be  adifted  in  forming  a  judgment  of  ourfelves,  I 
proceed  now  to  {how, 

II.  In  what  refpedls  there  is  no  peace  to  fuch. 

Firji,  There  is  no  peace  to  them  with  God.  By 
their  wickednefs  they  wage  war  with  Heaven;  and 
the  Almighty  King  is  angry  with  them  every  day. 
Man,  hearkening  to  the  fuggeftions  of  Satan,  has 
thrown  off  allegiance  to  his  rightful  owner,  tranf- 
grelTed  his  holy  law,  refufed  that  tribute  of  praifc 
which  is  due,  and  engaged  in  open  rebellion. 
Whatever  we  may  think  of  the  claims  of  fellow- 
portals,  furely  the  great  God  hath  an  unqueftion- 

O  o 


298  L    I    N    N. 

able  right  to  us  and  all  our  fcrvice.  He  hath  made, 
arid  continually  upholds  us.  Of  him  we  cannot 
be  independent ;  and  our  happinefs  lies  in  his  fa- 
vor. Having  ruined  ourfelves,  he  found  out  a 
help.  He  fent  his  Son  to  fulfil  the  demands  of 
the  law  in  our  room,  and  in  his  gofpel  he  proclaims 
pardon  and  peace  to  all  who  will  return.  Only 
they  have  reconciliation  with  him,  v.ho  have  fub- 
mitted  to  his  terms ;  w  ho,  forfaking  their  fms,  have 
believed  in  the  name  of  his  Son.  The  impenitent 
and  unbelieving  muft  fall  under  the  flroke  of  his 
juftice.  To  their  rebellion  they  add  ingratitude, 
by  making  light  cf  the  offers  of  grace. 

Having  no  peace  with  God,  of  what  advantage 
are  the  moft  flattering circumftanccs  in  this  world? 
Of  what  advantage  that  we  are  the  citizens  of  a 
free  (late,  and  the  nations  around  in  league  with 
us?  Thefe  indeed  are  ineftimable  blefTings,  and 
which  we  muft  not  tamely  furrender  to  every  proud 
and  ambitious  fpirit ;  but  can  they  make  us  hap- 
py hereafter  ?  We  may  not  enjoy  them  a  day,  or 
an  hour.  While  we  continue  under  the  power  of 
lin,  we  are  the  moft  abjed;  flaves.  We  do  the 
works  of  the  devil,  who  delights  in  the  ruin  and 
mifery  of  our  race. — Is  not  the  difpleafure  of  our 
Maker  enough  to  embitter  every  comfort,  or  ren- 
der us  joylcfs  in  the  midft  of  every  earthly  good 
thing  ?  How  dreadful  to  think,  that  his  curfe  is 
upon  us  when  we  lie  down  and  rife  up  ;  and  in  all 
our  ways!  How  fearful  to  know,  that  we  muft  fall, 
at  hft  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God !  This  is 


LINN.  299 

the  pitiable  conJition  of  the  wicked,  to  whom. 

In  the fecond  place t  There  is  no  peace  in  their 
own  con  faiences.  The  thoughts  of  what  their 
crimes  have  expofed  them  to,  often  tear  them  with 
the  mod  bitter  rcflecftions.  Son-.e  of  them  have 
been  afraid  to  be  left  alone  ;  and  difmal  fpecflres, 
which  guilt  formed,  have  haunted  them  in  the 
midnight  hours.  It  is  faid  of  the  infidel  Hobbes, 
*'  that  though  he  would  fpcak  very  ftrange  and  un- 
becoming things  of  God,  yet  in  his  (ludy,  in  the 
dark,  and  in  his  retired  thoughts,  Ke  trembled  be- 
fore him.  If  his  candle  happened  to  go  out  in 
the  night,  he  awoke  in  terror  and  amazement.  He 
Was  unable  to  bear  the  difmal  refledlions  of  his 
dark  and  defolate  mind  ;  and  knew  not  how  to  ex- 
tinguifh,  nor  how  to  bear  the  light  of  the  candle  of 
the  Lord  within  himo" 

See  the  man  of  pleafure,  how  gaily  he  walks  a- 
broad !  What  cheerful nefs  in  his  looks  !  He  af- 
fects to  efteem  the  more  fober  part  of  mankind  a<? 
precife  and  fupercilious  1  Talk  to  him  of  con- 
fcience,  and  he  hardly  ref|-rains  a  burfl  of  laughter! 
Did  you  fee  him  in  fome  hour  af  fickncfs,  gloom 
and  folitude,  you  might  find  diftrefs  pidlured  in 
his  face,  arifi ng  from  remorfe  within.  Though 
repeated  acls  of  fin  fear  the  confcience,  and  ren- 
der it  lefs  fenfible,  yet  there  are  few  but  have 
their  fcvcrc  twinges  and  repenting  fealons.  It  is 
cafier  to  proflitutc  confcience  than  to  filencc  it. — 
•*  Whatever  there  be  in  the  air,  there  is  certainly 


300  LIN    N. 

an  elaflic  power  in  confciencc  that  will  bear  itfelf 
up,  notvvithftanding  the  weight  that  is  laid  upon 
it  to  ftifle  and  kill  its  clamors."  Dr.  Doddridge, 
in  his  life  of  that  memorable  convert.  Col.  Gardi- 
ner, informs  us,  "  That  ftill  the  checks  of  con- 
fcience,  and  fome  remaining  principles  of  fo  good 
an  education  as  he  had  received,  would  break  in 
upon  his  moR  licentious  hours ;  and  that  he  told 
him,  when  fome  of  his  difTolute  companions  were 
once  congratulating  him  on  his  diftinguifhed  feli- 
city, a  dog  happening  at  that  time  to  come  into 
the  room,  he  could  not  forbear  groaning  inwardly, 
and  faying  to  himfelf,  "Oh,  that  I  were  that  dog  1" 
Such  v/as  then  his  happinefs ;  and  fuch  perhaps  is 
that  of  hundreds  more,  who  bear  themfelvcs  high- 
eft  in  the  contempt  of  religion,  and  glory  in  that 
infamous  fervitudc  which  they  call  liberty. 

If  the  confcience  of  the  wicked  be  eafy,  it  muft 
be  in  one  or  more  of  thefc  ways ;  either  by  a  long 
courfe  of  iniquity ;  or  by  adopting  falfe  principles ; 
or  by  a  comparifon  with  others  who  are  thought 
worfe ;  or  by  refolving  to  amend  in  future  ;  or  by 
performing  part  of  the  duties  of  religion.  Wo  to 
thofe  who  arc  able  to  quiet  it  by  any  of  them.  It 
will  fom.e  time  or  other  awake  to  their  forrow. 
Like  a  frozen  viper  laid  to  the  fire,  it  will  recover 
ftrength,  and  fling  them  to  the  heart.  Take  them 
in  their  mofl  compofed  frame,  how  far  are  they 
from  that  ferenity  of  foul  which  religion  gives. 
This  is  a  peace  which  paffelh  all  underftanding.  The 
nunds  of  the  wicked  are  refllefs,  and  hurried  by 


LINN.  301 

their  luds  and  pallions.  In  the  verfe  preceding 
the  text,  it  is  faid.  The  zvicked  are  like  the  troubled 
fea,  when  it  cannot  reft^  whofe  waters  caji  up  mire  and 
dirt:  But  in  the  godly  foul  there  is  a  calm.  The 
contemplation  of  heavenly  things  affords  compla- 
cency ;  and  in  God,  the  foul  can  hope  and  refl: 
for  time  and  eternity.  Peace,  faid  Chrift  to  his 
difciples,  I  leave  zvith  you,  my  peace  I  give  unto  you  : 
not  as  the  zvorld  giveth,  give  I  unto  you.  With  this 
peace,  what  earthly  bleiling  can  be  compared  ? 
Could  we  command  eyery  thing  our  hearts  would 
wi(h,  where  is  the  enjoyment,  if  the  mind  be  dif- 
quieted  ?  This,  like  an  aching  tooth,  or  a  bone  out 
of  joint,  will  difturb  us,  will  break  our  fleep,  and 
render  us  unhappy. 

Perhaps  fome  may  think,  that  only  atrocious 
finners  are  fubjedl  to  fuch  fevere  laflies.     Gene- 
rally it  is  fo ;  but  every  perfon  eftranged  from  God 
is  deliitutc  of  folid  and  lading  peace.    It  is  ovv^ing 
to  ignorance  and  miitake,  that  he  has  any  at  all. 
There  are  no  fins  fmall,  confidered  with  refped:  to 
God.     It  is  found  fo  in  a  thorough  convidion; 
and  their  being  committed  againfl:  the  light  and 
grace  of  the  gofpel,  highly  aggravates  them,  and  is 
a  bitter  ingredient  to  all  true  penitents.      Our 
hearts  condemn  us  for  fecret  as  well  as  for  open 
fins  ;  for  omiflions  as  well  as  tranfgrcffions.     Un- 
lefs  then,  confcience  is  unduly  hufhcd,  it  cannot 
otherwife  than  moleft  all  who  are  not  reconciled  to 
God. 


30^  LIN    N. 

Again,  There  is  no  peace  to  the  wicked  in  a  dy-, 
'  ing  hour.  By  this  is  not  meant  that  they  ihall  un- 
dergo more  pain  of  body  than  others.  The  pangs 
of  difTolution  are  the  fame  to  all.  Thofe  indeed,  of 
whom  the  world  was  not  worthy,  have  often  fuf- 
fered  the  mofi-  cruel  and  violent  deaths.  Nor  is 
it  meant,  that  the  wicked  have  never  any  compo- 
fure  in  death,  or  hope  of  well-being  hereafter: — 
For  though  the  fcripture  tells  us,  ne  wicked  is 
driven  aivay  in  his  wickednefs  ;  but  the  righteous  bath 
hope  in  his  death  ^  yet  we  are  not  to  underlland,  that 
none  of  them  ever  entertain^  in  that  folemn  hour, 
expedtations  of  mercy,  or  that  they  all  anticipate 
their  mifery.  Some  of  them  die  as  they  had  liv- 
ed, ftupid  and  thoughtlefs  as  beads.  Befides,  I 
know  not  that  death  Ihakes  every  falfe  hope.  It 
is  thought  that  fome  good  men  may  have  fears 
and  perplexities  to  the  very  lafl ;  and  that  fome 
bad  men,  may  remain  unfhaken,  and  die  with 
more  apparent  confidence  than  the  others.  There 
are  inflances  of  infidels  maintaining  cheerfulnefs 
and  refolution  in  their  lafb  moments.  With  fome 
it  has  been  other  wife,  and  they  have  betrayed 
dreadful  forebodings  of  a  wrath  to  come.  Now 
and  then  they  have  retraded  their  principles,  and 
fought  relief  in  a  profeflion  of  Chriflianity.  It  is 
faid,  that  the  poet  Dryden,  not  being  able  to  for- 
tify himfelf  in  infidelity,  embraced  the  Popifh  re- 
ligion. Some  years  ago  it  was  confidently  alTerted,, 
that  Voltaire,  at  the  age  of  eighty,  and  being,  as 
he  thought,  about  to  die,  had  felt  fome  flrangc 


LINN.  303 

qualms  ofconfcience,  in  confequcnce  of  which,  he 
had  made  a  long  and  goodly  confcflion  of  the 
truths  of  revelation.  His  followers  deem  this  a 
ilander,  and  cannot  believe  that  their  mighty 
champion  would  ever  retreat.  Having  fo  long 
edified  them  by  his  writings,  perhaps  there  is  no 
fuilicicnt  authority  to  deprive  them  of  their  com- 
fort in  his  death. 

The  fears  of  the  good  man  cannot  render  his 
ftate  lefs  fafe,  nor  the  confidence  of  the  bad,  ren- 
der his  lefs  dangerous. .    Whatever  their  own  fen- 
timents  are,   itjhail  be  well  with  the  right eouSy  and 
HI  zvith  the  zvicked.     We  are,  however,  compalled 
about  with  a  cloud  of  witnelTes,  who  bear  teflimo- 
ny  that  the  end  of  the  perfedt  and  upright  man,  is 
peace ;  who  have  died,  not  only  with  calmnefs 
and  refignation,  but  have  been  filled  with  a  joy 
unfpeakable  and  full  of  glory  ;    ^vho   have  met 
death,  not  only  on  a   bed  furrounded  by  friends, 
but  in  its  moft  horrid  form,  on  a   gibbet,   or  at  a 
ftake  ;  not  only  thofe  of  flrong  and  feaiiefs  make, 
but  thofe  of  a  timorous  nature,  and  from  among 
the  v/eaker  fex  ;    not  only  thofe  who  had  no  at- 
tachment on  earth  why  to  wifh  for  life,  but  thofe 
who  had  eftates,  families  and  friends.    It  is  an  ob- 
fervation  made,  to  (how  the  efficacy  of  grace,  that, 
in  fuffering  times,  none  went  more  cheerfully  to 
martyrdom,  than  thofe  who  had  numerous  fami- 
lies dependant  on  them.     Let  the  decriers  of  reli- 
gion produce  us  any  principle  fo  powerful  to  bear 
<?nc  up^  under  the  diftrelTcs  o^  life,  and  fupport 


304  LINN. 

through  the  valley  of  the  fliadow  of  death ;  any 
thing  that  will  fo  revive  and  embolden  the  foul,  as 
a  view  of  God  reconciled  in  Chrift,  and  the  hopes 
of  a  blcfTcd  immortality.  No ;  it  is  only  this 
will  difarm  death  of  his  fling.  It  is  this  will 
make  death  not  only  tolerable,  but  defirable  ;  will 
give  not  only  compofure,  but  triumph  ;  not  only 
free  us  from  pain,  but  make  heaven  beam  all  a- 
round  us. 

Dr.  Young,  in  his  tra6l  on  original  compofition, 
has  given  us  a  precious  anecdote  of  the  amiable 
Mr.  Addifon.  "  After  he  had  difmiffed  his  phy- 
ficians,  and  all  hopes  of  life,  he  fent  for  a  youth 
nearly  related  to  him,  and  finely  accomplifhed,  yet 
not,  above  being  the  better  for  good  inftrudlions 
from  a  dying  friend.  He  came — but  life  now 
glim.mering  in  the  focket,  the  dying  friend  w^as 
filent.  After  a  decent  and  proper  paufe,  the  youth 
faid,  "  Dear  fir,  you  fent  for  me  ;  I  believe  and  I 
hope  that  you  have  fome  commands  ;  I  fhall  hold 
them  moft  facred."  May  difiant  ages  not  only 
hear,  but  feel  the  reply  1  Forcibly  grafping  the 
young  gentleman's  hand,  he  foftly  faid,  "  See  in 
what  peace  a  Chriftian  can  die  !" — He  fpoke  with 
difficulty,  and  foon  expired."  I  the  rather  ad- 
duce this  inftance,  becaufe  he  was  a  man  of  ge- 
nius, of  great  literary  fame,  and  in  high  ftation, 
with  which  empty  fmatterers  and  conceited  fools, 
are  ready  to  think  religion  inconfiflent.  Indeed, 
the  men  of  greatefl  talents,  who  ever  adorned  our 
world,  where  not  afnamed  of  the  gofpel  of  Chrift  s 


LINN.  3DJ 

<tInong  whom  we  may  rank  a  Locke,  a  Boyle,  a 
Newton, and  a  Bacon.  Perhaps  it  might  be  affertcd, 
without  extravagance,  that  thefe,  for .  ilrength  of 
mind,  and  deep  refearch,  as  fir  exceeded  many  of 
the  retailers  of  infidelity  as  an  angel  did  them  ;  or 
as  an  untutored  favage  exceeds  the  bealls  below 
him.  They  were  the  glory  of  Britain,  and  one 
half  her  fame. 

What  awful  fpeci:acles  have  fome  of  the  wicked 
exhibited  on  a  death  bed  1  How  contrary  to  the 
example  juft  now  adduced  !  Hell  feemed  already 
to  have  been  kindled  in  their  fouls.     Under  the 
fcourges  of  a  guilty  confcience,  and  a  fearful  fenfe 
of  impe:-..ding  wrath,  they  could  not  contain,  but 
vented  their  difmal  outcry  enough  to  rend  the 
flouteft  heart.     One,  of  whom  mention  is  made 
in  a  practical  writer,  "a  monument  of  juirice,  worn 
to  flcin  and  bone,  blafphemed  the  God  of  Pleavch^ 
curfed  himfelf,  and  continually  cried,  O  torture ! 
-torture!  torture!  O  torture,  torture  1"  Another  is 

•  faid  to  have  cried  out,  "I  have  had  a  little  plea- 

•  fure,  but  now  I  mufb  have  Hell  for  ever  mor&.  To 
whatever  was  fpoken,  to  afford  him  comfort,  he 
replied,  I  mud  to  Hell ;  I  muft  to  the  furnaces  of 
Hell  for  millions  of  m.illions  of  ages."  The  re- 
petition of  thefe  exprelTions  is  frightful  ;  how 
much  moreto  have  feen  the  fad  objects  !  Suffer  me 
to  fay,  with  the  greateft  ferioufnefs  and  afieclion, 
that  no  finner  who  goes  on  againlt  his  conf.  icncc 
can  cxped  to  die  in  another  manner.     Let  not  the 

p  p 


3o6  L    I    'N    n:. 

friglit  of  thcfc  examples  freeze  the  blood  and  make 

the  hair  fland  ant  end  only,  but  fo  imprefs  our 

nuhds  as  to  deter  us  from  all  the  paths  of  known 

fin.     Should  we  fall  blindfold  into  defl"ru(fi:ion,  it 

•will  not  be  lefs  terrible  in  the  iifu^e.     It  muil  be 

"grievous  and  dilirading  to  think  of  appearing  be- 

^ fore  God  without  fome  fure  and  firm  hope.     To 

have  our  peace  to  make  when  the  body  is  racked 

vv^ith  fore  pain/ when  rcfrefhing  fleep  has  departed, 

"and  we  know  not  when  the  pulfe  may  ceafe,  and 

we  fiiffen  into  cold  cUy — how  atfectuig,  and  alas, 

what  profpecl  that  the  mighty  work  fhall  be  done, 

when  years  of  health  and  ftrength  have  been  finned 

a\vay  1  I  leave  this  mournful  theme;  but  for  one 

"more  mournful  fiill ;  there  is, 

^  In  the  lafl  place.  No  peace  to  the  wicked  after 
death.  Then  their  forrows  begin,  which  admit  of 
no  alleviation.  In  this  world  they  had  their  good 
things :  They  enjoyed  with  others  the  common 
bounties  of  Providence,  and  Vv^ere  fenlible  of  plea- 
fi.ire.  In  thefe  they  placed  their  only  happinefs  ; 
but  now  all  is  gone,  and  they  are  torm.ented.   Con- 

•  fcience  can  be  quieted  no  more.  It  is  the  worm 
that  never  dies.     Inftead  of  hope,  eternal  defpair 

.  covers  them  round,  and  they  are  prcfTed  under  the 

.  wrath  of  a  jufi  and  fovereign  judge.  Before  the 
body  is  conveyed  to  its  cold  lodging  by  furviving 
friends,  the  immortal  fpirit  is  fentcnced  and  con- 
fined to  that  difmal  dunojeon  which  jufiicc  hath 
prepared  for  all  the  rebellious;  \^  here  arc. 


L    IN    N;  307 

"  Regions  of  forrovv,  doleful  fhadcs,  where  peace 
And  reft  can  never  dwell,  hope  never  comes 
That  comes  to  all;  but  torture  without  end 
Still  urges,  and  a  fiery  deluge,  fed 
With  ever-burning  fulphur  unconfumcd. 

Here  their  prifon  ordained . 

In  utter  darknefs,  and  their  portion  fet. 

As  far  removed  from  God  and  lieht  of  Hcav'n 

As  from  the  centre  thrice  to  th'  utmoft  polc/'f 

Who  is  able  to  defcribe  their  mifery  ?  Who 
knows  the  power  and  vengeance  of  Almighty  God? 
Future  punifhmcnt  is  reprefented  in  fcripture  by 

the  zvorm  that  never  dies,  by  evcrlajiing  firey  by  a 
lake  of  fire  andhrimfione^  and  by  every  thing  terri- 
ble in  nature. 

That  there  will  be  degrees  of  mifery  our  Saviour 
has  taught  us,  when  he  fays,  that  it  fhali  be  more 
tolerable  for  Tyre  and  Sidon,  for  Sodom  and  Go- 
morrah than  for  Chorazin,  Bethfaida  and  Caper- 
naum, in  the  day  of  judgment,  becaufe  thefe  en- 
joyed fupcrior  advantages  to  the  others.  Thefe 
words  alfo  teach  the  fame  :  This  is  the  condemnation 
that  light  is  come  into  the  worlds  and  men  loved  dark^ 
nefs  rather  than  light.  It  fhall  be  more  tolerable 
for  the  heathen  world,  than  for  thofe  under  the 
gofpel.  Wickednefs  indeed  grows  to  a  greater 
height  among  the  latter.  Would  you  find  the 
mod  daring  and  abandoned  fmner?  Look  not  for 
him  among  the  Indian  tribes,  but  among  profef- 

t  Milton's  Piradif?  Lofl.    Book  I. 


30g  LIN    N. 

fing  Chrliiians. — Nothing  can  exceed  the  anguiHi 
arifing  from  the  refiedion  of  having  flighted  offer- 
ed mercy.  This  is  a  nfiifcry  from  which  the  de- 
vils themfelves  will  be  exempted.  To  them  no 
Saviour  has  been  revealed,  nor  pardon  offered. 
Skilled  in  the  art  of  torment,  they  will  increafe  the 
anguifh  of  our  race  by  infulting  their  folly.  The 
body  having  been  a  partner  in  guilt,  will  be  raifed, 
reunited  to  the  foul,  and  both  made  unfpeakably 
miferable.  Our  Saviour  concludes  his  awful  re- 
prefentation  of  the  day  of  judgment,  by  faying, 
^hejejhall  go  away  into  everlajiing  punijhment . 

The  character  and  mifery  of  the  wicked  having 
been  now  fet  before  us,  furely  it  becomes  us  to 
»nake  careful  and  ferious  application  of  thefe 
truths. 

We  fee  the  unhappy  condition  of  fuch,  nct- 
^vithilanding  our  political  war  is  turned  into  peace. 
To  rejoice  in  it,  moil  certainly  they  ought,  but  by 
no  n-;eans  to  view  it  as  aif  evidence  that  God  is 
pleafed  with  them.  Without  repentance,  they 
are  only  refervcd  for  fevcrer  judgmenrs.  Thedif- 
peniations  of  Providence  towards  mankind  in  this 
world  are  various,  and  all  defigned  to  bring  them 
to  a  fenfe  of  themfelves,  and  an  acknowledgment 
of  the  Xwm'y  and  true  God.  He  tries  us  now  with 
aixlidrion.and  then  with  mercy,  or  he  mixes  the  cup. 
Tliey  who  harden  their  necks  jJoa:ll  fiiddenly  he  defiroy^ 
cd,  and  that  without  remedy.  They  who  have  felt 
the  dilbcffes  of  the  war,  and  have  not  wept  for 


I.    INN.  309 

their  fins ;  thofc  who  have  loft  their  eflates^  and 
have  not  made  peace  with  God,  have  reafon  more 
than  ever  to  fear.     There  is  yet  no  peace  to  them. 
They  are  not  immediately  threatened,  it  is  true, 
"with  an  invading  army,  or  called  to  change  domcf- 
tic  blifs  for  the  hurry  of  a  camp,  and  jeopard  their 
lives  in  the  high  places  of  the  field.    They  no  lon- 
ger tremble  for  dear  relatives,  and  figh  for  life,  li- 
berty and  property  at  frake,  but  they  lie  under  the. 
difpleafure  of  that  Almighty  Being,  who  difpofes 
of  them  and  all  their  concerns.     He  hath  other, 
ways  to  punifh  them  even  in  this  world  ;  and  they 
ihall  not  cfcape  his  righteous  judgment  in  the. 
"world  to  come.     What  are  all  the  fccnes  of  terror 
and  confuiion  we  can  vvitnefs  here,  compared  to. 
that  place,  where   fliall  be  continual  weeping  and 
gnajhing  of  teeth. 

Is  it  not  then  of  the  utmoft  importance,  that  wc 
examine  whether  or  not  we  are  numbered  with 
the  wicked?  If  ever  we  would  obtain  mercy  of 
God  in  Chrift,  we  mud  firfb  be  acquainted  with 
our  own  condition.    *As  fome  diforders  are  of  the 
moft  deadly  nature,  in  which  the  patients  are  (tu- 
pid  and  infenlible  of  pain,  fo  a  finner  not  know- 
ing himfelf  to  be  fuch,  and  unconcerned  affords 
but  little  ground  of  hope. — Are  any  of  you  living 
in  ignorance  of  divine  truths,  feldom  thinking  or 
caring  about  them  ?    Are  you  guilty  of  great  im- 
moralities, fecret  or  open  ?  Do  you  live  in  the  o- 
miilijn  of  pofitive  and  known  duty?  Mow  then 
<rsnyou  ho|>c-that  your  ftate  is  good  and  fafe?  Your 


3IO  LIN    N: 

ftate  is,  beyond  all  doubt,  bad  and  dangerous. — . 
Believe  it  to  be  io,  and 'labor  after  repentance  and 
amcndnnent. — Neither  will  a  life  faultlefs  in  the 
e,yes  of  men,  and  a  regular  attendance  on  outward 
duties,  prove  you  the  fubjedls  of  fupcrnatural  grace. 
He  is  a  Chriflian  who  is  one  inwardly.  The  feat 
of  piety  is  the  he.:irt.  If  you  believe  the  doClrine 
of  man's  depravity  and  inability,  you  muft,  in  con- 
nection, believe  theneceffity  of  being  created  anew 
in  Chrift  Jefus.  As  is  the  tree,  fo  is  the  fruit :  As 
is  the  fountain,  fo  are  the  ftreams.  Have  you  then 
palTed  from  death  to  life  ?  There  is  no  medium. 
Either  you  have  been  changed,  or  you  are,  at  this 
day,  /'//  the  gall  ofhitternejsy  and  in  the  hond  of  iniqui^ 
iy.  Hear  the  Vvords  of  him  who  came  down 
from  Heaven  to  teach  us  the  way  of  life:  Verily^ 
verily  y  I  Jay  unto  thee,  except  a  man  be  horn  again,  he 
cannot  fee  the  kingdom  of  God.  Alas,  that  too  many, 
like  Nicodemus,  think  this  a  ftrange  and  uninteU 
iigible  dodlrine.  They  alledge  that  nothing  more 
is  neceflary  than  thofe  endeavors  and  defires  which 
a.re  in  their  own  power.  They  feel  no  need  of  the 
influences  of  the  holy  fpirit.  O  Religion,  myfle- 
rious  in  thy  nature,  giving  glory  to  God  and  de- 
bafing  the  creature,  may  we  never  mirtake  thee, 
our  eternal  concern  !  BlciTed  God,  difpel  the  dark- 
nefs  of  our  minds;  give  us  to  know  thee;  and 
what  we  ourfelvcs  are,  and  lead  us  in  the  way  ever- 
lafting ! 

Our  deceitful  hearts  are  too  apt  to  impofe  upon 
us,  and  our  adverfary   the  devil,  is  ever  feeking 


LINN.  311 

whom  he  may  devour.     The  mod  wicked  perfon 
Hatters'  himfclfthat  he   will  fome  time  or  other 
mend,  or  pfefumes  on  the  mercy  of  God. — Let  us 
try  to  make  a  thorough  work  of  religion.     Many, 
•who  were  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  Heaven,  will 
never  arrive  there.     The  fonnalill  muft  lofe  his 
foul  after  all  his  pains.     He  needs  the  new  heart, 
'  to  turn  his  drudgery  into  a  willing  fervice,  and 
make  him  happy  for  ever.     The  hypocrite,  if  re- 
newed in  the  fpirit  of  his  mind,  will  not  act  the 
'player,  or  aiTume  a  borrowed  charader ;  but  he 
will  really  be,  what  he  appears  to  be.     How  vain 
fare  all   pretences  1    It  is  eafy  to  deceive  fellow- 
.men  ;  but  God,  with  whom  we  have  to  do,  fearch- 
cs  the  heart  and  tries  the  reins.     What  we  are  in 
fecret,  when  none  but  his  eye  fees  us,  will  deter- 
mine bur  true  character. 

Sinners,  of  whatever  defcription,  open  your 
'Cyes  on  your  wretchednefs !  Flattery  in  your  cafe, 
.  would  be  poifon.  To  hide  your  danger,  or  fmooth 
it  over,  would  be  monflrcus  cruelty.  Do  you  a(k, 
•  is  there  no  hope  concerning  us  ?  None,  while  you 
continue  in  fin.  There  is  no  fuch  falvation  in  all 
t\\Q:  fcriptures.  If  you  are  refolved  and  permitted 
to  go  on  in  a  courfe  of  iniquity  till  the  end  of  life, 
you  are  condemned  already.  The  zvages  of  fin  is 
death.  Nothing  but  the  flight  union  of  foul  and 
body,  prevents  the  Hamcs  of  hell  from  kindling 
all  around  you.  On  this  precarious  tenure  you 
hold  any  eafe  and  peace  you  ha\  e.  A  few  days 
iickncfs  may  end  all  your  joy  for  ever  \  a  ficknefs 


311  L    I    N    If. 

in  which  you  may  be  infcnlible,  and  can  no  m(5r« 
attend  to  the  falvation  of  the  foul,  than  one  alrea-* 
6y  in  the  grave  ;  nay,  an  accident  may  precipitate 
you  into  everlaiting  burnmgs.  You  now  hvc,  and 
have  health  and  reafon.  If  you  vnU  leave  your 
iins,  there  is  an  ample  remedy  provided  for  you  in 
the  gofpeL  There  is  falvauion  for  the  word  of 
you  ;  for  all  of  you.  O  delay  not,  but  break  off 
-your  fms  by  righteoufnefs.  Be  importunate  in 
prayer  to  God.  Bring  your  polluted  foul  and  bo^ 
dy  to  the  blood  of  Chrifl:,  which  clcanfetb  from  all 
jln^ — Now  is  your  day  of  grace  ;  fin  it  not  away. 
The  moments  are  on  the  wing. — Improve  them 
before  they  are  fled,  and  you  go  down  to  the  duft. 

You,  my  brethren,  who  have  your  peace  made 
with  God,  are  happy  indeed.  I  congratulate  you 
on  the  peace  reftored  to  our  land  ;  but  I  congrat- 
ulate you  m.uch  more  on  this.  By  the  one,  the  ca- 
f  lamities  of  war  are  removed,  and  days  of  eafe  and 
reft  are  come  ;  by  the  other,  you  have  efcaped  ca- 
lamities without  end,  and  have  found  eafe  and  reft 
to  your  fouls.  By  the  one,  you  are  freed  from  the 
opprcffive  yoke  of  men;  by  the  other,  from  the 
vileftflavcry  offin  and  fatan.  By  the  one,  you 
have  profpeds  of  a  growing  and  extcnfive  empire  ; 
by  the  other,  aliurance  of  reigning  for  ever  and 
ever.  You  are  doubly  bleft.  Peace  without,  and 
peace  within.  Peace  here,  and  peace  hereafter. 
You  muft  not,  however,  put  off  the  harnefs.  In 
your  fpiritual  concerns,  much  remiains  yet  to  be 
done.     This  warfare  is  not  over.     Sin  and  fatan^ 


LINN.  313 

though  wounded,  are  not  dead ;  thougli  forely 
beaten,  they  keep  the  field.  Hoftiiitics  may  ceafe, 
but  they  will  be  renewed.  It  is  your  duty,  there- 
fore, to  watch,  and  to  put  on  the  whole  armour  of 
God.  You  have  the  grcatefl:  encouragement  to 
ftand  your  ground.  You  will  prove  fucccfsful, 
through  the  llrength  of  your  leader.  Jcfus  Chrift 
will  make  you,  at  lad",  more  than  conquerors. 

Exert  all  your  talents,  and  ufe  all  your  influence, 
to  promote  the  declarative  glory  of  God,  and  the 
falvationof  men.  Difcountenance,  and,  as  far  as 
in  your  povv  cr,  prevent  idlenefs  of  every  kind,  ex- 
cefs  and  profanity,  fo  difplcafing  to  God,  and  de- 
flrudlive  to  free  and  popular  governments.  We 
have  been  brave,  and  if  virtuous,  we  will  be  a 
happy  people. 

I  conclude  this  difcourfe  with  addrefling,  once 
more,  thofe  of  my  audience,  who  m.ay  be  fenfible 
that  they  have  no  peace  with  God.  It  were  eafy 
to  multiply  arguments,  why  you  fhould  return  to 
God  ;  but  none  will  prevail  unlefs  he  make  them 
cffedlual.  I  have  endeavored  to  deal  plainly  and 
faithfully  with  you,  as  knowing  that  I  muil  give  an 
account.  It  would  be  improper  to  preach  my 
foul  away  in  a  fmooth  and  moral  harangue.  Your 
own  good  fcnfe  would  condemn  mc  for  it  now, 
and  rife  up  in  judgment  againfl  me  in  the  day  of 
the  Lord.  Have  you  formed  any  rcfolutions,  that 
you  \vill  try  to  be  religious  ?  Begin  and  pcrfcvere. 
You  have  the  greatcil'  encouragement.  Let  nei- 
ther the  number,   nor  the  aggravation  of  your 


314  L'  1    N    N. 

crimes,  deter  you  from  an  application  to  the  Sa- 
viour. On  the  contrary,  if  fin  be  your  choice, 
there  is  no  encouragement.  How  do  you  know 
that  God  will  not  leave  you  to  yourfelves,  to 
fill  up  the  meafure  of  your  iniquity  ?  How  do  you 
know  that  he  will  not  fpeedily  require  your  fouls? 
Let  not  a  moment  then  pafs  without  refolving  to 
ferve  God.  Why  halt  you  between  two  opinions? 
Reafon  and  confcience  fay,  that  you  ought  to  be 
religious.  Follow  their  wife  and  fovercign  dic- 
tate. What  pretences  does  fin  bring?  She  puts 
on  a  fpecious  appearance  to  deceive  and  ruin. 
Hearken  not  to  her  fong,  for  flie  would  entice  you 
to  your  owndeftrudlion.  In  the  end,  flie  will  bite 
like  a  ferpent,  and  fling  like  an  adder.  She  re- 
w^ards  all  her  votaries  with  unutterable  wo  and 
pain.  But  religion  holds  out  to  you  every  thing 
good  and  great.  She  will  perfed:  and  make  hap- 
py your  nature.  Through  Jefus  Chrift  you  may 
obtain  peace  with  God,  and  with  your  own  con- 
fcienccs;  peace  in  death  and  throughout  eternity. 
Why  will  you  not,  this  day,  accept  and  fign  the 
peace  through  this  Mediator?  This  would  give 
you  a  true  reiifh  for  all  the  gifts  of  Providence. 
Then  might  you  fit  every  man  under  his  vine^  and 
under  his  fig-tree,  and  none  make  you  afraid.  May 
God  teach  us  all  our  true  interell;  long  continue 
our  national  peace;  and  above  all,  give  us  peace 
with  himfclf,  and  make  us  happy,  when  thrones 
fhall  be  cafi:  down;  through  Jefus  Chrift,  to  whom 
with  the  Father,  and  the  blellcd  Spirit^  one  God^. 
be  glory  now  and  for  ever  more. 


HE?* 


SERMON     XVL 

On     disobedience. 

B    Y 

BENJAMIN    MOORE,    D.  D. 

One  of  the    Miniflers  of  the  Epifcopal  Church,  New- York. 


Genesis  iii.  6. 

And  when  the  woman  Jaw  that  the  tree  was  good  for 

foody  and  that  it  was  pleafant  to  the  eyes^  and  a  tree 

to  be  defired  to  make  one  wife  ;  Jhe  took  of  the  fruit 

thereof  and  did  eat ;  and  gave  alfo  unto  her  hujhand 

with  her,  and  he  did  eat, 

HOWEVER  infignificant  this  tranfadioii 
may,  at  firll  view,  appear,  its  confequcnces 
have  been  very  deplorable  to  all  mankind.  Man 
"w'aa  originally  created  in  the  image  of  God,  and 
the  habitation  alfigned  him  by  his  Creator,  was  a- 
bundantly  fupplied  with  all  the  means  of  felicity. 
He  poireffed,  in  Paradife,  whatever  was  necefiliry 
to  render  his  prefent  exiflencc  happy  ;  and,  in  the. 
midft  of  the  garden  was  placed  the  tree  of  life,  as  i. 
fymbol  and  pledge  of  his  immortality,  if  he  conti- 
nued obedient  to  the  commands  of  his  God.  He 
was  indulged  in  the  free  enjoyment  of  all  the  blef- 
fings  that  furroundcd  him,  excepting  only  that  he 


3i6  MOORE. 

was  laid  under  one  particular  refrridlion,  not  to 
tafte  of  the  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and  evil. 
But,  feduced  by  the  temptation  of  Satan,  our  firft 
parents  violated  the  divine  command.     Walking 
by  fights  and  not  by  faith;  tru fling  more  to  the 
Tuggeflions  of  their  own  appetites,  than  to  the  de- 
clarations of  their  Creator ;  grafping  at  what  ap- 
peared a  prefent  good,  though  apprized  cf  the 
dangerous  confequence ;  when  they  faw  that  the 
tree  was  pleafant  to  the  eyes,  and  vainly  imagined 
that  it  was  good  for  food ;  they  ilretched  forth 
their  hands  and  took  of  the  fruit  thereof,  and  did 
cat,  to  their  own  wretchednefs  and  that  of  their 
pofterity.     For  by  this  violation  of  the  divine  law, 
the  covenant  between  God  and  man  was  broken ; 
the  right  to  the  tree  of  life,  the  pledge  of  imm^or- 
tality  was  forfeited,  fin  gained  admiflion  into  the 
world,  and  mifery  and  death  foilow^ed  his  footfteps. 
In  that  evil  hour,  nature,  from  her  feat,  fighing 
through  all  her  works,  gave  figns  of  wo,  that  all 
was  loll. 

This  very  interefiing  event  well  defcrvcs  the  fe- 
rious  confideration  of  every  Chriflian;  for  in  its 
confequences  are  involved  all  the  pollerity  of 
Adam.  Upon  this  event  is  founded  the  whole 
fcheme  of  the  redemption  of  the  world  by  the  Son 
of  God,  in  the  voluntary  facrifice  of  himfelf  upon 
the  crofs.  Had  not  man  fallen  from  his  original 
acditude,  there  would  have  been  no  neceffity  for  a 
Redeemer.  To  remedy  the  fad  effects  of  this  ori- 
ginal tranfgreflion,  the  promife  was  immediately 


MOORE.  317 

given,  that  the  feed  of  the  woman  JJjould  bruife  the 
ferpent's  head.  Let  us  then  confider  what  inferen- 
c-es  may  be  drawn  fron:i  this  paffage of  facied  fcrip- 
ture,  which  may  tend  either  to  confirm  out  faiih, 
or  to  diredl  our  praclice. 

And,  in  the  frjl  place,  hence  wc  may  learn,  that 
God  has  a  right  to  try  our  obedience  in  any  man- 
ner which  may  feem  bcft  to  his  infinite  wifdom, 
notwithflanding  the  difficulties  and  feeming  in- 
confidences  which  may  be  fuggefted  by  our  im- 
perfecl  apprehenfion  of  things.  Is  it  enquired  ? 
Indeed,  the  queflion  has  been  often  put  by  fcof- 
fing  infidelity — "  Why  ihould  a  divine  command 
be  given  with  refpedt  to  fo  trifling  a  circumftance, 
as  that  of  tafting  the  fruit  of  a  particular  tree?" 
The  fole  intention  of  the  Almighty  Creator  was 
to  prove  the  fidelity  and  fubmiflion  of  his  rational 
creatures;  and  why  not  in  this  circumftance,  as 
well  as  in  any  other  ?  Such  was  the  fituation  of  our 
firft  parents  in  their  primitive  ftate,  that  the  laws 
which  were  enjoined  them  mult  ncceilarily  have 
been  few  and  fimple.  Mod  of  thofe  injuncflions 
would  have  been  totally  inapplicable  to  their  con- 
dition, which  were  afterwards  laid  upon  mankind, 
when  the  human  race  was  multiplied  ;  when  a  di- 
vifion  of  property  had  taken  place;  and  extenfive 
civil  focietics  were  formed.  If  the  command  was 
plain  and  fimple,  tranfgrellion  was  the  more  eafily 
to  be  avoided.  Although  the  prohibition  related 
to  a  matter,  which  would  otherwife  have  been  al- 
together indifferent ;  it  was  entirely  adequate  to 


3iS  MOORE. 

the  intended  purpofe,  which  was  to  prove  the  faith 
and  humiHty  of  the  rational  creatures  whom  God 
had  formed.  Their  trial,  Uke  that  of  every  other 
perfon,  was,  to  fee  whether  they  would  feek  for 
happinefs  only  in  compliance  with  the  divine  com- 
mand, or  whether  they  would  endeavor  to  obtain 
it,  in  fome  other  way.  And  upon  this  principle, 
that  particular  tree  which  was  the  fubjed:  of  the 
prohibition,  is  with  propriety  denominated  the  tree 
ef  knowledge  of  good  and  evil ;  as  it  was  intended  to 
fignify  to  thofe  who  tafted  the  fruit  thereof,  the 
good  of  entire  fubmiffion,  and  the  f^// of  wilful  dif- 
obedience  to  the  command  of  God.  From  thefe 
confiderations,  let  not  us  prefume  to  difpenfe  with 
any  of  the  injunctions  of  the  Almighty,  however 
infignificant  they  may  appear  to  our  limited  un- 
derflandings.  Some  duties  arife  from  the  natural 
and  neceffary  relations  of  things ;  and  fome  alfo, 
from  the  immediate  appointment  of  the  great  Cre- 
ator and  Lord  of  the  Univerfe.  From  this  latter 
fource,  the  ceremonial  laws  of  the  Mofaic  difpcn- 
fation  derived  all  their  authority  ;  and,  on  the  fame 
account,  we  Chrijiiaiis  are  obligated  to  fubmit  to 
the  pofuive  inftitutions  of  the  gofpel.  The  will  of 
God,  in  whatever  manner  it  may  be  fignified  to 
mankind,  is  the  unerring  and  indifpenfible  rule  of 
human  conducl. 

Secondly^  Hence  we  may  be  led  to  obferve  the 
diftind;  offices  o^reafon  2indfailhy  in  the  great  con- 
cerns of  religion.  Let  enthufiafts  endeavor  to  de- 
preciate reafon,  bccaufe  it  muft  ever  prove  un-- 


MOORE.  319 

friendly  to  their  extravagant  pretcnfions — let  un- 
believers exceffively  extol  its  powers,  becaufe  they 
aredefirous  entirely  to  difcard  revelation — thedif- 
creet  Chriftian  will  never  attempt  to  feparatc 
what  God  has  indilTolubly  united.  He  will  make 
his  reafon  and  his  faith  mutually  alTifl:  each  other. 
The  beautiful  edifice  of  his  religion  will  be  found- 
ed in  reafon y  and  the  fuperftrudture  will  be  reared 
on  high  by  faith  ^  and  all  the  facred  duties  per- 
formed in  this  glorious  temple  of  the  Lord,  may 
be  juftly  denominated  a  reafonable  fervice,  Reafon 
is  the  diflinguiihing  glory  of  man.  From  this 
heavenly  ingredient  in  his  compoiition,  it  is  faid, 
that  he  was  created  in  the  image  of  God,  This  is 
the  candle  of  the  Lord  fhining  before  us  to  diredl 
our  progrefs.  This  is  the  celeflial  light  which 
lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world. 
But  let  us  ever  remember,  that  the  rays  of  this  glo- 
rious luminary  are  circumfcribed  within  certain 
limits.  This  heavenly  guide  can  conducft  us  only 
through  a  part  of  our  journey ;  and  then,  fhe  vo- 
luntarily gives  us  up  to  the  guidance  of  faith.  It 
is,  therefore,  a  matter  of  infinite  importance  to  us, 
when  reafon  Hops,  to  be  fatisfied  and  willing  that 
faith  fliould  take  us  by  the  hand.  Happy  would 
it  have  been  for  our  iirft  parents,  had  they  adled 
from  a  fledfaft  convidlion  of  this  momentous 
truth.  God  had  vouchfafed  to  converfe  with  them 
under  fome  vifible  form ;  and  his  command  was 
communicated  in  fuch  a  manner,  that  they  enter- 
taincd  not  the  lead  doubt  of  its  divine  authority^ 


320  MOORE. 

Reafon  herfclf,  therefore,  ought  to  have  taught 
them,  not  to  cavil,  but  implicitly  to  obey.  Has  God 
cxprcfsly  dcchrcd,Thou/Lalt ml  eat.^  Every  contra- 
dictory affertion  is,  therefore,  not  to  be  attended  to. 
Impertinent  and  prefumptuous  arc  all  thy  imagi- 
nations, "  that  thou  mayeft  tade  the  forbidden 
fruit,  not  only  v;ithout  danger,  but  even  with  plea- 
fure  and  advantage — that  its  beautiful  appearance 
indicates  fome  faiutary  quality  Vv'ithin  ;  that  fure- 
iy  it  is  good  for  food,  and  much  to  be  defired  to 
make  one  wife."  The  event  proved,  that  the  high- 
eft  wifdom  of  man  is  to  fubmit  to  the  dircdions 
of  Almighty  God — that  mifei-y  is  the  natural  con- 
fequence  of  tranfgreffing  the  law. 

Thefe  obfervations  are  altogether  applicable  to 
the  prefent  fituation  of  Chrifiiaiis.  Our  religion 
requires  the  exercife  of  both  realon  and  faith.  She 
comes  with  high  pretenfions — llie  flirinks  not 
from  the  clofeft  infpecfrion — Ibe  demands  the  at- 
tention which  is  due  to  a  divine  revelation.  Let 
reafon  examine  thefe  pretenlions,  and  weigh  the 
arguments  which  are  adduced  to  eflablilb  fuch 
high  authority  ;  for,  in  fo  doing,  reafon  afe  with- 
in her  proper  fphere.  And  if  flie  at  length  de- 
termine, that  our  religion  com.cs  from  God,  then 
let  us  receive  it  with  cordial  affe6i:ion,  and  refign 
ourfelves,  without  referve,  to  its  Heavenly  direc- 
tion. Does  reafon  indeed  conclude  that  Chrifli- 
anity  is  of  cclefiial  origin  ?  Does  reafon  declare 
that  God  is  v/ifer  than  man  ?  Let  us  then  call  in 
the  aid  of  fallL     Let  us  believe  the  alTcrtions  of 


MOORE.  su 

God,  though  we  cannot  always  perfedlly  compre- 
Iiend  them.  Let  us  be  obedient  to  his  injundlions^ 
though  we  cannot  always  explain  the  mode  of 
their  operation  in  producing  the  intended  effecft. 
Upon  this  principle  let  us  IledfaftJy  maintain  the 
doctrines  of  the  exiflence  o't  three  perfonsm  the  u- 
nity  of  the  divine  nature;    of  the  incarnation  of 
the  Son  of  God  ;    and  of  the  atonement:  which  he 
offered  for  the  fins  of  the  world.     Let  us  heartil/ 
believe  and  ad  upon  that  perfuaiion,  that  the  due 
reception  of  tne  facraments,  though  they  are  but 
mere  matter^  will,  nevcrthelefs^  (by  the  efficacy  of 
the  divine  appointment)  have  a  Jpiritual  effecft  in 
promoting  the  purity,  and  thus  fecuring  the  fal- 
vation,  ofour  immortal  fouls.     Let  us  walk  by 
faith^  and  not  by  fi^^ot ;   and  this  divine  principle 
will  be  unto  us  the  fabfiaiice  of  things  hoped  for,  and 
the  evidence  of  things  notfoen. 

Thirdly,  From  this  palTage  of  facred  fcrlpture 

■we  may  obfervc,  that  fince  the  will  of  God  is  the 

indifpenfible  rule  of  human  conduct,  whenever 

his  commands  are  clearly  notified,  we  arc  not  prc-^ 

fumptuoufly  to  diftinguilh  them,  as  if  fome  were 

trifling,  while  others  are  important;  as  if  fome  of 

them  deferved  regard,  while  others  may  be  tranf- 

grelTed  with  impunity.     So  far  as  the  infirmity  of 

our  nature  will  permit,  we  mufl  endeavor  to  yield 

a  perfect  obedience  to  all  the  laws  of  God,    Thefe^ 

jio  doubt,  with  refpect  to  their  influence  upon  hu-. 

man  happinefs,  are  of  more  or  lefs  importance  j 

\)m  dill,  in  regard  to  the  authority  from  which 


322  M    O    O    R    E. 

they  are  derived,  they  all  deferve  the  fame  refpedl- 
Hence,  the  declaration  of  the  apoftle  is  undoubt- 
edly jud  ;  that  isohojoever  keepeth  the  whole  laWy  and 
cffendeihy  (that  is,  ivilfully  offendeth)  only  in  one 
point,  be  is  guilty  of  all. — He  defpifcs  that  authori- 
ty upon  which  the  whole  law  is  founded.  In  their 
treatment  of  each  other,  our  fird  parents  violated 
no  duty,  they  lived  in  mutual  affedion,  and,  in 
the  tafk  that  was  affigned  them,  yielded  recipro- 
cal afli fiance.  And,  wuth  refpecl:  to  their  devo- 
tional temper  of  mind,  it  is  probable  the  lan^ 
guagc  of  the  poet  is  as  true,  as  it  is  beautiful — 

•   Their  orifons  were  each  morning  duly  paid 
In  various  ftyle  ;  for  neither  various  flyle 
Nor  holy  rapture  wanted  they,  to  praife 
Their  Maker, 
Whofe  goodnefs  is  bej'bnd  tho't  ^indpozver  divine, 

Condant  as  they  were  in  the  difcharge  of  thcfe  /;;/- 
portant  duties,  it  were  well  if  they  had  attended 
to  the  lejjer  matters  of  the  law.  Satan  did  not 
dare  to  infmuate,  that  God  was  not  to  be  adored, 
or  that  they  were  not  to  love  each  other.  Bjt  he 
artfully  fuggefled,  that  the  tafling  of  the  fruit  of 
a  particular  tree,  could  not  be  a  tranfgreflion  of 
fuch  frightful  magnitude;  could  not  poflibly  be 
attended  with  fuch  dreadful  confcquences.  That 
he  is  a  liar  from  the  beginning,  the  fatal  event 
fufficicntly  proved  ;  and  it  now  concerns  us  to  be 
cautious,  left  we  fliould  be  feduced  into  tranfgrcf- 
fion  by  fimilarfalfe  fuggeftions.     Say  not,  that 


MOORE.  323 

becnufe  you  injure  no  man  by  dircd  injuflice,  you 
may  venture  to  indulge  in  rioting  and  drunken- 
ncfs,  which  are  fuppoied  to  be  injurious  to  no  one 
butyourfelf;  for  God  has  commanded  us  to  be 
temperate  in  all  things,  and  has  introduced  drunks 
€nnejs  into  the  fame  dreadful  catalogue  of  vices, 
with  adultery  and  murder.  Say  not,  that  becaufe 
you  obferve  all  the  weightier  matters  of  the  law, 
duties  which  are  of  everlafling  obligation,  you  may, 
without  hazard,  negled  x!'[\^  pofitive  infiitutions  of 
the  gofpel — that  hapiijm  is  of  no  avail  to  falvation 
— and  that  the  LonV^ /upper  is  a  ceremony  of  little 
Hgnificance.  The  proper  inquiry  is,  '^  Has  God 
commanded  the  obfervance  of  them  ?"  If  this  be 
the  cafe,  it  is  our  duty  with  humility  to  fubmit, 
and  not  arrogantly  pretend  to  alTigii  reafons  to 
juflify  our  difobedicnce.  He  that  would  avoid 
the  great  offence,  mull  refolutely  withftand  the 
firft  beginnings  of  evil.  He  that  would  yield  an 
acceptable  obedience,  mud  prefent  his  tithes  of  .. 
mint,  and  anifc,  and  cummin,  as  well  as  obferve  f 
"the  more  weighty  precepts  of  the  law.  An  appa- 
rently trifling  tranfgreflion,  may  be  productive  of 
very  ferious  confequences  ;  a  feeming  unimpor.- 
tant  duty  may  be  highly  acceptable  in  the  fight  of 
hivi  who  enjomed  it.  Let  us  implicitly  obeyy  and 
then  we  may  fafely  truft  the  event  to  God,  who  is 
fupremely  wife,  and  powerful,  and  good. 

Fourthly,  In  difcourfmg  upon  this  fubjedt,  it 
maybe  farther  obferved,  that  the  very  foundation 
and  groundwork  of  all  true  reli<?-ion  mull  be  bid 


324  MOOR    E. 

in  an  humble  and  docile  difpofition  of  heart.  It 
was  pride  that  thruft  dov/n  the  revoking  Angels 
from  their  firft  abodes  in  the  manfions  of  glory.  It 
was  a  vain  confidence  in  their  own  powers  which 
expelled  Adam  and  Eve  from  all  the  joys  of  Para- 
t3ife.  Except  ye  he  convert edy  Jays  our  Lord,  and  he-^ 
come  like  Utile  children^  ye  cannot  enter  into  the  king-^ 
dom  of  God.  Now  the  prevailing  difpofition  of 
children  is  docility  of  mind;  and  a  readin.efs  to 
give  themfelves  up  to  the  guidance  of  thofe,  whofe 
goodnefs  they  have  experienced;  and  who,  they 
!know,  are  wifcr  than  themfelves.  Deflitute  of  th[s 
difpofition,  the  Pharifees  blaiphemed  the  Son  qf 
God,  and  defpife.d  his  doctrines ;  and,  on  the  fame 
account,  the  reafoning  Philofophcrs  of  the  prefect 
day  vilify  the  gofpel  of  Chrift,  becaufe  they  can-* 
not  comprehend  all  its  tnydcrics.  But,  is  the  hu- 
man uuderdanding  a  perfed:  liandard  of  all  wif- 
dom;  an  adequate  judge  of  all  truth?  Is  there  no- 
thing true  v/hich  lies  beyond  the  limits  ofour  com- 
prehcnfion?  We  cannot  prefume  to  alTert  it;  for, 
in  the  flrong  language  of  fcripture,  it  may  be  juft"- 
ly  affirmed,  the  zveaknefs  of  God  is  flrongcr  than  man, 
and  the  foolijhncfs  of  God  is  zvifcr  than  man,  A\\  na- 
ture is  full  of  inexplicable  myfteries ;  and  before 
Vain  philofophy  rejects  the  gofpel,  becaufe  fome 
myllerious  doclrincs  are  therein  inculcated,  it 
blight  to  explain  the  fccret  procefs  by  which  fluid 
water  is  converted  into  fclid  ice;  or  how  every 
blade  of  grafs  is  induced  to  fpring  upwardsy  con- 
trary to  a  general  law  of  nature.     Ignorance  and 


MOORE.  315 

arrogance  frequently  go  together :  but  the  ten- 
dency of  true  wifdom  is  ever  to  make  us  humble. 
With  God,  nothing,  that  docs  not  imply  dired: 
abfurdity  or  wickednefs,  is  impoflible.  When 
Samaria  was  clofely  befieged,  and  reduced  to  the 
Jaft  extremity  by  famine,  Eliflia,  the  man  of  God, 
came  forth  and  proclaimed  in  the  audience  of  all 
the  people,  thus  faith  the  Lord,  to-morrow  about  this 
iimeyjhall  a  7neaJ'ure  of  fine  flour  be  fold  for  a  fheckel, 
and  two  meafures  of  barley  for  afLeckel,  in  the  gates 
of  Samaria.  But  a  Lord,  on  whofe  hand  the  king 
leaned,  in  the  true  fpirit  of  captious  infidelity,  an- 
fwered  the  man  of  God,  and  faid,  behold,  if  the 
Lord  would  make  windozvs  in  Heaven,  viight  this  thing 
^e  f  And  yet,  the  event  iliowed,  that  the  man  of 
<Jod  was  right,  and  that  the  objeclions  of  the  im- 
pious caviller  were  frivolous  and  vain.  J^ei  ijna- 
,ginations  be  caft  down,  and  every  high  thing  that  exalte 
tth  itfelf  againft  the  knozvledge  of  God;  and  let  every 
thought  be  brought  into  captivity  to  the  obedience  of 
Chrift ;  and  we  fhall  find,  in  due  time,  that  in  be- 
lieving the  doclrines  of  the  gofpel,  -ti'e  have  notfoU 
iowed  cunningly  devifed fable s ;  that  what  God  hath 
promifed,  he  is  alfo  able  to  perform. 

For,  to  our  great  confolation,  it  may  be  obferv- 
cd,  in  the  laft  place,  that  in  the  redemption  which 
was  wrought  out  by  the  Son  of  God,  fufficicnt  pro- 
vifion  is  made  to  remedy  all  the  fad  cffcds  of  this 
original  tranfgrejf  on.  In  the  fulnefs  of  time,  God 
fent  forth  his  Son,  made  of  a  woman,  to  accomplilli 
the  promife  given  to  our  firll  parents  in  Paradifc, 


326  MOOR    E, 

The  great  work  of  redemption  is  now  completed ; 
and  we  are  continually  invited,  nay,  even  com- 
manded,  to   come  and  partake   of   its  benefits. 
Through  hearty/^///;,  and  (incere  though  impcr- 
fcd  obedience,  compcnfation  may  be  amply  obtain- 
ed  for  the  lofs  of  the  tree  of  life;  for  death  has 
been  vanquillied,  and  immortality  is  again  brought 
to  light  in  the  gofpel.     Let  me  conclude  with  ex- 
horting you,  to  acquiefce  in  the  wifdom  of  divine 
Providence,  in  whatever  manner  God  may  think 
it  proper  to  try  and  prove  you,  in  this  mortal  life — 
to  cultivate  affiduoully  the  powers  of  reafon,  as 
the  diftinguifhing  gift  of  God,  and  the  greateft 
glory  of  man  j  and  reafon,  under  proper  manage- 
ment, will  become  the  affedlionate  handmaid  of 
faith — to  take  without  relucl^ance,  the  zvill  of  God 
for  the  guide  of  your  lives,  and  it  will  undoubtedly 
lead  you  to  happinefs  and  glory — to  walk  before 
him  with  all  lowiinefs  and  meeknefs  of  heart,   for 
he  who  thus  humbleth  himfelf  will  be  gloriouHy 
exalted — to  let  the  blefled  hope  of   everlafting 
life  animate  your  obedience  and  enliven  all  your 
profpedls.    PafTing,  in  this  manner,  through  things 
temporal,  you  will  finally  lofe  not  the  things  cter- 
iial ;  for  there  remaineth  a  never-cealing  reft  for 
the  people  of  God. 


SERMON     XVIL 

On  the  FORGETFULNESS  of  our  SINS. 

B    Y 

B  R  2"^  A  N    FAIRFAX, 

MInifler  of  the  Eplfcopal  Church,  Alexandria,  Vlrgini:^ 


^  H  o  s  E  A    vii.   2. 

And  ihey  coytfider  not  in  their  hearts y  that  I  rememhcr 
all  their  wickednefs. 

IT  is  a  melancholy  thought  that  there  are  fome 
people,  perhaps  a  great  many,  v/ho  are  with- 
out the  confideration  mentioned  in  the  text ;  that 
do  not  confider  that  the  Lord  remembers  all  their 
wickednefs. 

If  a  man  does  a  known  injury  to  his  neighbor, 
he  is  very  apt  to  think  he  remembers  it.  But  he 
may  offend  God  from  time  to  time,  and  not  con- 
fider  that  he  can  remember  too.  This  is  an  affcd- 
ing  thought,  both  with  rcfpecl  to  ourfelves  and 
others.  When  we  obferve  this  carelciTnefs  in 
others  about  offending  God,  and  an  indiflerenc}^ 
whether  he  takes  notice  of  it  or  not ;  we  mav 
wonder  and  pity  their  inattention,  as  we  do  when 


32^  F  A  I  R  F  A  X. 

we  fee  a  great  careleiFncfs  in  people,  who  fquander 
away  their  eflate  without  thought,  or  run  greatly 
in  debt,  or  are  negligent  of  their  health,  expofing 
it  by  intemperance  or  other  folly.     But  when  we 
bring  the  cafe  home  to  ourfelves,  and  reflcd:  how 
often  -we  have  offended  God,  without  confidering 
that  he  remembers  it ;    it  is  enough  to  aifecl  us 
with  remorfe  and  fhame.     There  is  no  part  of  a 
man's  condu6l  that  more  furprizes  him,  when  he 
comes  to  reRexion,  than  that  he  did  not  confider 
in  his  heart,  that  the  Lord  remembered  his  wick- 
cdnefs,  although  he  did  not.     How  could  it  be, 
might  he  fay  to  himfelf,  that  I  fliould  have  linned 
in  this  particular,  and  in  that,  and  yet  not  advert 
to  the  Lord's  feeing  it? — Not  confider,  that  he, 
whofe  eyes  run  to  and  fro  through  the  earth,  muft 
behold  an  offender  againfl:  his  laws  ?  How  flrange 
is  it  that  I  fhould  be  thus  thoughtlefs,  to  wound 
my  foul  by  frequent  ads  of  lin,  to  grow  daily 
worfe,  by  daily  going  farther  from  God ;  that  God, 
who  is  as  able  to  punifh,  as  he  was  able  to  create 
me.    Surely  I  muft  be  like  the  ungodly,  defcribed 
in  the  Pfalms.    ne  ungodly  is  Jo  proud  that  he  careth 
not  for  God:  neither  is  God  in  alibis  thoughts.     He 
bath  faid  in  bis  heart,  tiifo,  God  hath  forgotten :  be 
'  hideth  azvay  his  face,  and  he  will  never  fee  it.     Thus 
he  might  reafon  with  himfelf,  and  reafon  truly. 
For  fuch  as  are  thus  carelefs  are  like  the  ungodly; 
nay,  they  are  the  ungodly  themfelves,  whom  the 
fpirit  of  wifdom  hath  fo  juftly  defcribed.     They 
fay,  God  hath  forgotten— that  is^  doth  not  remem^ 


jiMLk» 


FAIRFAX.  329 

ben  Bat  the  fame  fpirit  contradicls  thefe  bold 
alTertions — Wherefore  JJoould  the  wicked  blafpberae 
God :  zvhile  he  doth  fay  in  his  hearty  tufhy  thou  God 
careft  not  for  it?  Surely  thou  haft  fe  en  it,  for  thoube^ 
hjldeft  iingodlinefs  and  wrong.  We  have  no  difficuU, 
x.y  in  believing  this :  for  whatever  the  ungodly  . 
may  fay,  it  will  be  no  hard  matter  for  thofe  who 
fear  God,  to  believe  that  he  really  does  behold  un- 
godlinefs  and  wrong.  And,  indeed,  it  is  not  im- 
probable that  many  of  the  ungodly  cannot  help 
•believing  it  themfelves;  for  though  they  may  fay^ 
God  car eth  not  for  it  y  yet  it  is  much  to  be  queflion- 
ed,  whether  they  really  think  fo.  It  is  true,  they 
do  not  confider  in  their  hearts,  that  is,,  they  have- 
not  a  deep  and  fettled  confideration,  that  God  fees 
them :  yet  if  they  would  turn  their  thoughts  inward 
and  aflc  the  queftion  ferioufly,  w^hether  God  fees 
them  or  not?  they  would  not  fo  readily  fay,  that 
he  cared  not.  But  it  is  through  want  of  due 
thought  upon  the  fubjedl:,  that  they  do  not  confi- 
der in  their  hearts,  that  the  Lord  remembers  their 
wickednefs — and  therefore  venture  to-  fay  within 
themfelves,  he  doth  not  regard.  It  would  fcem 
as  if  it  was  done  to  put  off  fome  diHiurbing  thought 
juft  beginning  to  arife;  and  that  it  might  not  dif- 
turb  them,  they  banifh  it  by  a  fudden  effort — fay- 
ing, what  fignifies  it  to  have  any  uncafinefs  about 
it?  God  careth  not  for  thcfc  things. — There  arc 
fome  to  be  fure  who  do  not  believe  in  God's  all- 
feeing  eye,  and  his  univerfal  prefence  ;  but  yet,  I 
fuppofe,  tfterc  are  more  who  cannot  help  believing^ 

S  f 


220  FAIRFAX. 

it,  when  they  take  the  time  to  confider  it ;  and 
yetj  notwithilanding,  for  want  of  attention,  flatter 
themfelvcs  with  the  hopes  of  his  not  beholding,  or 
at  leaft,  not  remembering,  to  their  utter  confuiion, 
ar  a  future  day. 

To  fuch,then,  it  may  be  ufeful  to  have  a  warn- 
ing. It  may  do  them  good  to  be  reminded  of 
their  inattention — to  be  brought  to  confider  that 
v/hich  they  do  not.  And  may  we  not  fuppofe 
that  the  words  of  the  text  were  written  for  this 
purpofe.  Why  are  the  threatnings  in  fcripture, 
but  to  alarm  the  minds  of  thofe  whofe  conduct 
expofes  them  to  thofe  evils  which  are  threatened  ? 
Not  only  the  danger  of  a  finful  courfc  is  mention- 
ed, but  the  danger  of  being  carelefs  and  off  our 
guard  is  alfo  mentioned;  that  we  may  avoid  the 
temptation  we  are  expofed  to  from  carelcfTnefs. 
The  benefit  of  watchfulnefs  is  defcribed,  that  we 
niay  become  watchful- — The  benefit  of  prayer  is 
mentioned  that  we  may  pray — The  help  which 
the  Lord  is  ready  to  afford  is  wrirten,  that  vi^e  may 
apply  for  it — His  mercy  is  fpoken  of  in  high 
terms,  that  we  may  not  defpair;  and  his  judg- 
ments are  recorded,  that  we  may  not  prefume  too 
much  upon  his  goodnefs;  but  rather  be  driven 
from  fin  to  the  arms  of  mercy.  So  the  want  of 
conlidcration  is  written,  that  fuch  as  need  it,  may 
be  roufcd  to  cCnlider.  Of  this  inconfideratencfs 
there  are  many  kinds.  Men  do  not  confider  e- 
r.ough  that  they  are  to  die — they  are  not  apt  to 
fconfidcr  whether  they  are  prepared  to  dk — they 


FAIRFAX.  331 

60  not  often  confider  that  they  are  really  finncrc — > 
they  do  not  confider  that  fni  mufl:  be  puniihcd,  ci- 
ther in  themfeives,  or  in  another  for  them — they 
do  not  often  confider  whether  their  fins  have  bccri 
ever  pardoned ;  and  fo  in  many  ways,  men  ne- 
gled:  a  due  confideration.  I  appeal  to  you,  my 
brethren,  whether  you  do  not  (uppofe  that  among 
the  many  forts  of  inconfiderate  people,  there  arc 
fome  that  confider  not  that  the  Lord  remembers 
their  wickedncfs?  Iffo,  the  words  of  the  text  were 
written  for  their  benefit ;  that  they  may  perhaps 
apply  the  do6lrine  to  themfeives,  and  fay  it  is  too 
true:  For  when  men  are  brought  to  fee  their  cr-- 
ror,  it  is  a  good  beginning.  And  if  a  rnan  hath 
often,  or  even  ever  faid  to  himlelf,  "  God  hath 
forgotten  my  fins,  or  hideth  away  his  face  and 
will  never  fee  them,"  and  fliould  caft  his  eyes  upon 
this  place  of  fcripture,  or  hear  it  fpoken  of,  where 
he  difcovers  his  thoughts  are  unveiled  by  the  word 
of  truth ;  and  that  he  is  ji^ft  fuch  a  man,  as  is 
there  defcribed,  he  may  be  ftruck  with  a  fear  of 
that  God,  who,  he  was  weak  enough  to  fuppofe,  had 
forgotten  him.  And  then  the  cafe  will  he  rcverf- 
ed.  He  had  fliid  that  God  had  forgotten.;  but 
now  he  is  afraid  that  God  never  will  forget  his 
fins :  He  before  faid,  that  the  Lord  had  done  whan 
he  now  believes  he  never  will  do.  This  is  a  com- 
mon cafe  of  the  ungodly,  when  the.y  firfl:  fee  theic 
fins  in  full  view,  they  are  fo  dreadful,  fo  heinous^ 
that  they  think  Gcd  never  will  forgive  them.  If 
they  are  fupportcd  by  a  fmail  hope,  it  is  but  a 


33^.  FAIRFAX. 

fmall  one;  their  general  Hate,  being  almofl  a  def- 
pair  of  mercy. 

This  leads  me  to  the  fecond  thing,  to  wit,  That 
there  is  another  fenfe  in  which  the  Lord  remem- 
bers our  fins  no  more,  and  very  different  from  that 
of  which  I  have  been  difcourfing.    In  this,  an  un- 
godly man  fays,  God  does  not  mind  his  fins,  and 
flatters  himfelf,  or  rather  tries  to  flatter  himfelf, 
that  his  fins  will  be  forgotten  though  they  have 
been  never  pardoned — -that  is,  that  God  will  pafs 
them  by,  though  he  has  never  repented,  or  fued 
properly  for  a  pardon.     In  the  other  fenfe,  God 
forgets  or  remembers  our  fins  no  more,  when  after 
humiliation  and   amendment,   he  hath  pardoned 
and  blotted  them  out.     Now  for  a  man  to  be  able 
to  fay  this.  That  the  Lord  hath  blotted  out  his  fins 
and  will  remember  them  no  more,  is  as  defirable 
a  fiate,as  the  other  before-mentioned  is  deplorable. 
That  the  Lord  does  pardon  true  penitents,  is  a 
comfortable  truths  and  one  of  the  great  points  of 
the  gofpel.    When  remifiion  of  fins,  as  well  as  re- 
pentance, was  ordered,  by  Chrift,  to  be  preached, 
how  do  fome  doubt  whether  it  is  to  be  had  i  n  this 
world  ?  The  apofi:les  fpeak  of  it  as  a  thing  adually 
done,  and  not  as  a  matter  only  to  be  expedled  in 
the    next  life.     St.  John  fays,    /  write  unto  you, 
little  chiidreu,  becauje  your  fins  are  forgiven  you ,  for 
his   name's,  f^^^y  or  through  his  name.     And  does 
he  not  fay,  If  we  confefs  our  fins,  he  is  faithful  and 
juji  to  forgive  us  our  fins,  and  to  cleanfe  us  from  all 
unrighteoufnefs,      St.  James — l^hat   the   prayer  of 


FAIRFAX.  333 

faith  Jhall  fave  the  Jkk,  and  the  Lord  Jkall  raife  him 
upy  and  if  he  have  committed  fins ^  they  Jhall  he  forgivy. 
en  him.  And  St.  Peter — That  all  the  prophets  give 
witnefs  to  Chriji,  that  the  believers  in  him  receive 
remiffion  of  fins  through  his  rtame  f  And  we  have  no 
reafon  to  fuppofe  that  this  remilnon  is  to  be  had 
Qiily  hereafter,  when  we  compare  the  exprefiions 
together,  and  confider  alfo  the  teflimony  of  ex- 
perience about  it.  If  our  Lord  had  power  on 
earth  to  forgive  fins,  and  did  adlually  do  fo,  why 
{liould  we  doubt  either  his  power  or  wilHngnefs  to 
do  it  now  ? 

The  apoflle  to  the  Hebrews  mentions  it  as  a 
part  of  the  new  covenant,  in  his  quotation  from 
the  prophet  Jeremiah. — This  is  the  covenant  that  I 
will  make  with  the  houfe  of  Jfrael  after  thofe  days^ 
faith  the  Lord;  I  will  put  my  laws  into  their  mind^ 
and  write  them  in  their  hearts  ;  and  I  will  be  to  them 
a  God,  and  they  Jhall  be  to  me  a  people ;  and  they  Jhall 
not  teach  every  man  his  neighbor y  and  every  man  his 
brother y  Jay  ing,  know  the  Lord:  for  all  Jhall  know  me^ 
from  the  leaji  to  the  great  ejl :  Jor  I  will  be  merciful  to 
their  unrighteoujnejsy  and  their  fins  and  their  iniquities 
%vill  I  remember  no  more.  So  that  remiffion  of  fins 
is  part  of  the  new  covenant ;  and  we  may  look 
for  its  accomplifhmcnt  in  performing  the  condi- 
tions of  it,  by  confeffion,  prayer,  humiliation,  and 
amendment. 

Thus,  then,  to  have  the  Lord  forget  our  fins  is 
very  definable,  and  quite  diifercnc  from  fuppofing 


334  F  A  I  R  F  A  X. 

he  does  not  notice  them.  And  remiirion  of  fins  is 
preached  that  men  may  arrive  to  this  Hate,  by  firil: 
having  a  hope  of  pardon,  and  then  by  actually  ob- 
taining it.  I  do  t:ol  mean  that  the  ungodly,  living 
in  fin,  are  firft  driven  from  it  by  the  hope  of  par- 
don :  No ;  they  are  driven  from  (in  by  the  fear  of 
judgment.  The  hope  of  pardon,  however  fmall, 
at  firft,  keeps  them  from  defpair;  fo  that  whilft 
the  fear  of  judgment  humbles  them,  they  are  gra- 
dually led  on  by  hope,  to  the  throne  of  mercy. 
And  this  remifllon  of  lins  is  preached  that  fmners, 
in  their  deepell  diftrefs  from  the  fear  of  wrath,  may 
yet  have  fome  hope  left ;  that  they  may  not  cad 
off  all  thoughts  of  falvation;  and  alfo  that  the 
profpedlof  reconciliation  may  be  ftill  plainer,  as 
they  return  towards  God. 

And  now  fhall  we  refledl  a  moment  on  the  dif- 
ference between  thefe  two  extremes — that  of  not 
confidering  that  the  Lord  remembers  our  wicked- 
nefs,  and  will  call  us  to  an  account  for  it — and  that 
of  confidering  that  he  hath  done  away  our  iins, 
and  will  remember  them  no  more  ?  The  former 
fort  are  apt  to  dread  the  day  of  reckoning,  and  the 
latter  to  hope  for  it — I  fay,  are  apt  to  do  fo  ;  be- 
caufe  neither  of  them  always  do  it.  The  ungodly 
aje  apt  to  dread  that  day,  though  they  do  not  al- 
ways fear  it :  for  they  try  to  put  it  by,  and  that  is 
the  rcafon  of  their  faying,  God  doth  not  regard. 
However,  they  are  apt  to  fcar,\ind  it  is  this  apti- 
tude to  fear  that  makes  them  try  to  fhift  it  off,  in 
the  bed  manner  they  are  able.    They  endeavor  ta^ 


FAIRFAX.  335 

IcfTen  their  fins  in  their  own  eyes,  inftead  of  confef- 
iing  them.  If  their  fins  are  too  great  for  them  to 
get  eafe  in  this  manner,  they  try  fome  other,  either 
to  difbelieve,  (for  men  m,ay  help  forward  their  un- 
belief as  well  as  their  belief)  or  refoive  to  repent 
hereafter,  or  elfe  to  fay  the  Lord  carcth  not  for  it> 
not  conlidering  in  their  hearts  that  he  docs  re- 
member. The  text  mentions,  confidering  in  the 
heart,  and  not  without  reafon.  For  fuch  people 
have  thoughts  about  thefe  things,  but  they  are  but 
flight — they  drive  them  off  to  prevent  their  im- 
preilion ;  and  that  is  the  caufe  why  they  conlider 
it  not  in  their  hearts. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  godly  have  a  difpofition 
or  aptitude  to  hope  for  the  fame  day,  though  they 
do  not  always  or  conftantly  wifli  for  it.  They 
hope  for  it,  not  as  a  day  of  punifhment,  but  as  a  day 
of  happinefs — they  hope  for  it,  becaufe  they  con- 
fider  their  fins  as  done  away  and  forgotten,  and 
look  for  that  glory  from  the  Lord,  which  is  referv- 
cd  for  them  that  hope  in  his  holy  name.  They 
truft  in  the  Lord  for  iidvation,  and  according  to 
his  word,  hope  for  it,  as  he  hath  promifed.  The 
Uronger  their  hope,  the  more  they  try  to  pleafe 
him,  becaufe  their  love  is  fo  much  the  greater; 
and  the  more  they  try  to  pleafe  him,  the  Itrongei* 
will  their  hope  be. 

And  now  I  ihall  conclude,  by  obferving  to  you, 
how  proper  it  would  be  for  everyone,  here  prefcnt, 
to  afk  his  own  heart,  whether  he  is  one,  that  is  apt 


33^  F  A  I  R  F  A  X. 

to  fliifc  oft  the  evil  day  or  not  ?  Whether  he  ever 
aims  to  get  peace  by  fuppofing  that  God  doth  nor 
remennber  his  vi^ickednels  :  or,  v/hcther  he  in  any 
other  manner  endeavors  after  a  falfe  peace ;  jud  a 
prefent  lull  to  the  riiings  of  a  troubled  mind  ?  If 
there  are  any  fuch  here,  then  take  this  fermon  as  a 
warning,  perhaps  from  the  Lord,  to  awaken  you 
to  better  thoughts ;  to  a  deeper  confideration 
that  you  mufi"  one  day  give  an  account  of  your 
condud',  and  that  to  the  Judge  of  all  men — to  the 
great  Judge  of  the  whole  earth,  who  knoweth  the 
fecrets  of  your  hearts,  as  well  as  the  words  of  your 
mouth.  There  is  not  a  word  in  your  tongue,,  but 
he  knoweth  it  altogether.  If  you  have  fworn 
falfely,  or  fworn  vainly,  he  knoweth  it.  If  you 
have  flandered  your  neighbor,  or  harbored  malice 
in  your  heart  againfr  him,  he  knoweth  it.  If  you 
have  defrauded  or  otherwife  wronged  your  neigh- 
bor, either  in  his  pcrfon,  or  eftate,  or  good  name, 
the  Lord  knoweth  it  as  well  as  you ;  for  he  be- 
holdeth  ungodUnefs  and  wrong.  And  if  he  know- 
eth thefe  things,  and  every  other  fin,  and  you  mufb 
be  brought  to  judgment  for  them,  or  obtain  a  par- 
don ;  fliould  you  not  with  all  your  might  ftrive  to 
obtain  this  pardon  ?  and  fhould  you  not  ftrive  ta 
obtain  it  now  ;  or  can  you  think  it  better  to  delay 
it  till  it  is  too  late  ? 

But  if,  upon  examination,  there  be  others  here 
prefent,  who  do  not  fee  that  they  have  been  quite 
fo  inconfiderate,  astofuppofe  they  are  hidden  from 
the  eyes  of  the  Lord,  or  that  he  doth  not  mindl 


FAIRFAX.  a37 

them ;  and  yet  can  fee  that  they  have  been  too  difo- 
bedient  to  laws  ;  and  having  iinned  againll:  them, 
are  guilty,  and  fubjedl  to  puniiliment  alfo,  though 
not  in  the  fame  degree  as  the  more  ungodly — thca 
if  there  be  fuch  here,  you  may  need  couniel  too  ; 
and  the  counfel  I  give,  is  to  confefs  your  (ins  alfo, 
one  by  one,  and  beg  for  mercy  daily;    and  be 
watchful  in  future  againfl:  them,  and  all  other  fins 
whatever.    Pray  earncfrly,  condantly,  to  him  who 
is  the  only  Saviour.     It  is,  indeed,  eafy  to  advife 
men  to  confefs  their  lins  ;  and  it  appears  eafy  to 
follow  fuch  advice.     But  experience  is  againft  it ; 
for  though  it  feems  fiich  an  eafy  matter,  perhaps 
not  one  in  twenty,  when  they  return  from  church, 
will  confefs  them,  either  in  general  or  particular. 
Though  we  are  told   from  the  Bible,  that  if  we 
v/iU  confefs  our  fins,  we  fliall  have  forgivenefs,  yec 
one  would  think  from  the  event,  that  it  is  almofb 
as  eafy  to  perfuade  a  finner  to  leave  his  fins,  as  to 
confefs  them  by  a  particular  confefnon.    And  this 
is  mentioned  juil:  to  flir  you  up  to  confeilion. 

But  there  may  be  others  alfo  here,  befides  the 
two  forts  above-mentioned,  and  they  are  the  god- 
ly, who  walk  in  all  the  commandm.ents,  with  an 
earnefl:  defire  to  be  found  dilio:ent  in  the  work  of 
the  Lord.  Let  me  advife  you  to  be  watchful,  and 
exceedingly  careful  of  your  behaviour;  not  with 
an  eye  of  plea  ling  men,  but  God,  who  trieth  the 
hearts.  This  you  will  find  necellary,  to  guard  a- 
gainft  the  deflgns  of  the  enemy,  who  may  over- 
come fuch  as  he  finds  ofi:'  their  guard.   ConM^jour 

T  t 


338  FAIR  F  A  X. 

fins  too,  knowing  that  you  need  mercy.  And  look 
to  the  Lord  for  help,  knowing  that  you  need  help. 
Be  humble  mi  all  your  deportment,  as  followers  of 
the  Lamhof  God.  Put  your  truft  in  him,  who  is 
able  to  fave.  And  may  we  all  obtain  the  crown 
of  glory,  that  fadeth  not  aw'ay.     Now  to  Go6y  &c. 


fjsc-  ■^.  m  '*'  m 

•-*«^        V^        */S? 


yk 


,1 


SERMON     XVIII. 

The  nature    and  ADVANTAGES  of 

THE     FEAR   OF     THE     LORD. 

B   y 
JOHN     R   0  D  G  E  R  S,     D.  D, 

One  of  the  Minifters  of  the  United  Prefbyterian   Churches,  In 

New- York. 


amiMM— MumUHkM  in4.<}<m-v'J""»— 


P  R  o  V.     xviii.   17. 

Be  tboH  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the  day  long. 

THERE  is  fcarce  any  thing  that  has  a  more 
immediate  influence  upon  our  duty  or  our 
comfort,  than  the  due  government  of  the  paflions. 
When  they  are  properly  diredted,  they  ferve  as 
powerful  fprings  of  right  adlion  ;  but  unguided 
by  rcafon,  and  revelation,  they  are  the  fruitful 
fourccs  of  vice,  guilt  and  ruin. 

Hence  the  wife  and  virtuous,  in  all  ages,  have 
employed  themfelvcs  in  forming  rules  for  their 
regulation.  But  it  has  been  found  more  eafy  to 
prefcribe,  than  to  reduce  thcfe  rules  to  practice. 

Herein,  then,  the  religion  of  Jefus  has  theadvan- 
tage  over  every  other  fyflcm  of  morality,  in  that 


340  R    O    D    G    E    R    S. 

it  not  only  prcfcribes  the  moiijufl  and  proper 
niles  for  this  end  ;  but  provides  the  aflidance  that 
is  requifite  to  enable  us  to  comply  with  them. 

This  is  the  fpecial  bufinefs  of  the  fpirit  of  grace, 
in  the  oeconomy  of  man's  falvation  ;  and  dircded 
and  afTiiled  by  him,  we  are  enabled  to  he,  and  vjalk, 
in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the  day  lor, g^  agreeably  to 
the  precept  in  our  text. 

To  enable  you  to  underhand  and  improve  this 
important  precept,  in  a  proper  .manner,  I  faall  en- 
deavor, by  the  aids  of  this  fpirit, 

I.  To  fliev/  vou  what  it  is  to  be  in  the  fear  of 
the  Lord  all  the  day  long. 

II.  Enquire  why  we  ftiould  ftudy  thus  to  be  in 
the  fear  of  the  Lord. 

I.  I  am  briery  to  fhewyou  what  it  is  to  be  in 
the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the  day  long. 

Fear  is  a  pafnon  of  the  human  mind,  and  (lands 
oppofed  to  hope.  It  is  that  pafnon,  by  Vv-hich  the 
author  of  nature  guards  us  againft  danger  ;  and  in 
this  view,  when  properly  direded,  is  of  fingular 
life  in  the  conduci:  of  life.  It  always  has  for  its 
objecl:  fome  evil,  real  or  fiippofed ;  and,  in  the 
words  of  our  tt^Xy  with  many  other  places  in  fa- 
cred  fcripture,  its  immediate  objccft  is  the  evil  and 
danger  of  finning  again  ft  God  ;  and  the  juft  difpleafnre 
of  Gody  in  confeqiience  of  offending  hinu  To  fear 
thcfe,  is  to  fear  the  Lord  in  thc.bcft  fenfe  of  th^^ 


R    O    D    G    E    R    S.  341 

phrafe.  This  is  the  fcnfc  in  which  the  churches 
are  faid,  to  walk  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  and  in  the 
comfort  of  the  Holy  Ghof,  And  in  the  fame  fenfe, 
the  fear  of  the   Lord,  is  faid  to  be  the  beginning  of 

wifdom. 

But,  to  give  you  a  fuller  view  of  this  grace,  I 
beg  your  attention  while  I  briefly  obfcrve ; 

I.  That  it  implies  a  humble  reverence  for  <3od'. — 
A  fenfe  of  his  being,  perfedlions  and  charadler  ; 
that  he  is t  and  that  he  is  the  rcwarder  of  them  that 
dihgently  feek  him.  That  he  is  a  God  of  purer  eyes 
than  to  behold  evil.  There  is  no  view  of  God  that 
contributes  more  to  form  the  human  heart  to  a 
true  fear  of  him,  and  a  devout  reverence  for  him, 
than  a  believing  view  of  the  holinefs  of  his  nature. 
This  is  the  cafe  of  the  Angels  themfelves,  as  we 
learn  from  I  fa i  ah  vi.  i — 3.  I  faw  alfo^  the  Lord 
fitting  upon  a  throne y  high  and  lifted  up^  and  his  train 
filed  the  temple.  Above  it  flood  the  feraphiius  ;  each 
one  had  fix  wings  ;  zvith  twain  he  covered  his  face ,  and 
with  tzvain  he  covered  his  feet,  and  with  tzvain  he  did 
fly.  And  one  cried  unto  another ,  and  faid,  holy,  holy, 
ho^y  is  the  Lord  ofhofls  j  the  zvhole  earth  is  full  of  his 
glory  ! 

There  cannot  be  a  more  lively  defcription  of 
reverence  and  godly  fear,  than  that  given  us  in  the 
condud:  of  the  feraphim,  verfe  2.  You  will  pleafe 
to  obferve,  each  oneofthefe  adoring  fpirits  had 
fix  wings,  IVith  twain  they  covered  their  faces — 
6ruck  with  the^j^i^cfty  of  God,  and  unable  to  be- 


342 


R    O    D    C    E    R    S. 


hold  his  glory ;  and  zvitb  tzvain  they  covered  then 
feet — as  unworthy  to  (land  in  his  facred  prefcnce^ 
though  immaculate,  and  the  higheft  order  of  ra- 
tional creatures  known  to  us  ;  and  zvith  twain  they 
did  fly — importing  the  alacrity,  cheerfulnefs  and 
expedition,  with  which  they  execute  the  divine 
commands.  And  the  fource  of  this  reverence, 
humility  and  obedience,  we  have,  verfe  3.  It  was 
the  view  they  had  of  the  hulinefs  of  the  divine 
nature.  For  one  cried  unto  another ,  andfaidy  hoh\ 
holyjjoly  is  the  Lord  of  hojis  ;  the  whole  earth  is  full 
of  his  glory  ! 

A  like  effedt  of  the  like  view  of  this  fame  attri- 
bute, we  have  in  the  condudl  of  the  four  living 
creatures,  and  the  four  and  twenty  elders ;  of 
whom  w^e  read  in  the  4th  chapter  of  the  Rev- 
elation of  St.  John,  from  the  8th  to  the  nth 
verfe. — 

A  knowledge  of  the  greatncfs  and  majefly  of 
God,  has  alfo  no  fmall  inflru mentality  in  promo- 
ting this  temper.  This  appears  in  the  cafe  of  the 
prophet  Jeremiah,  x.  6,  7.  Forafmuch  as  there  is 
none  like  unto  theCy  O  Lord ,-  ihou  art  great,  and  thy 
-name  is  great  in  might.  Who  would  not  fear  thee,  O 
king  of  nations  F  To  the  fame  purpofe  are  the  words 
of  the  Pfalmiil ;  For  the  Lord  is  great,  and  greatly 
to  he  praifed  ;  he  is  to  he  feared  above  all  gods. 

He  is  alfo  a  God  of  ftridl  and  invariable  juftice. 
A  God  %vbo  zvill  pnnifi   iniquity ,   trarfgreffion  and 
fn  ;  and  who  will  by  no  means  clear  the  guilty^  with- 
out an  intcrclt  in  the  atonement  of  the  Mediator. 


R    O    D    G     E    R    S.  343 

If  you  add  to  all  this,  that  Jehovah  is  an  all- 
feeing  and  a  heart-fearching  God,  you  will  eafily 
perceive,  that  this  reverence,  this  godly  fear  juftly 
becomes  us.  And  few  of  the  divine  attributes  have 
a  more  powerful  influence  on  this  temper,  than 
his  omnifcience,  when  properly  underltood  and 
realized.  That  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  run  to  and  fro,  . 
ihroughout  the  whole  earth — difcerning  the  thoughts 
and  intents  of  the  heart ;  and,  that  there  is  not  any 
creature  that  is  not  manifefi  in  his  fight ;  hut  all  things 
are  naked  and  opened  unto  the  eyes  of  him  with  zvhoni 
we  have  to  do.  That  no  darknefs  can  hide  from 
him.  That  the  fliades  of  midnight,  and  the  blaze 
of  noon,  are  the  fame  thing  to  him.  A  fenfe  of 
our  being  always  under  the  immediate  eye  of  tliis 
God,  from  whom  nothing  can  be  hid,  naturally 
tends  to  beget  and  cherilli  this  fear  of  the  Lord  in 
our  hearts  ;  to  fill  us  with  that  reverence  for  his 
majefly,  that  enters  fo  deeply  into  the  duty  enjoin- 
ed in  our  text.  On  the  other  hand — ignorance  of 
God,  and  inattention  to  thefc  perfections  of  his 
nature,  efpecially  to  his  omnifcience  and  omni- 
prefence,  are  among  the  moft  fruitful  fources  of 
that  irreverence  for  him,  which  fbands  oppofcd  to 
the  grace  I  defcribe.  The  language  of  the  finner's 
heart  and  life  is — Hozv  doth  God  knozv  ^  Can  he  " 
judge  through  the  dark  cloud  f"  Thick  clouds  are  a  cov^ 
ering  to  him,  that  he  fccth  not,  and  he  walketh  in  the 
circuit  of  Heaven.  He  may  not,  indeed,  venture 
to  fay  it  with  his  lips,  but  he  daily  faith  by  his 
practice,  the  Lordfiall  not  fee,  neither  Jhall  the  God 


344  RODGER    S, 

cf  Jacob  regard  it.  And,  by  the  by,  this  irrever- 
ence for  God,  IS  the  true  fource  of  that  rude  and 
unworthy  practice  of  profane  fwearing.  A  prac- 
tice that  infults  all  the  laws  of  politenefs,  and  ren- 
ders the  man  unfit  for  genteel  fociety,  while  it  vi- 
olates the  molt  facred  obligations  of  piety  and 
morality. 

2.  The  fear  of  the  Lord  implies,  an  hahilual 
care  left  we  offend  him.       This  is  the  genuine  ef- 
fed  of  that  reverence  for  God,  of  which  you  have 
juft  heard.     The  more  it  prevails  in  the   heart, 
the  more  will  it  govern  and  influence  the  life. — 
The  true  fource  of  this  care  is,  a  lincere  love  to 
God,  and  a  defire  to  pleafe  him.     The  man  who 
does  not   love  God,  and  defire  to  pleafe  him,  will 
not  be  careful,  on  juft  principles,  to  guard  againft 
giving  him  otFence.     Why  does  the  dutiful  child 
fear  to  offend  a  kind  and  tender  parent  ?  Js  it  not 
becaufe  he  loves  him  ?    Becaufe  his  hoaor  lies 
near  his  heart  ?    Thus  in  the  cafe  before  us,  the 
more  "w'e  love  God  and  his  law,  the  more  cautious 
nnd  tender  fnall  we  be,  left  we  fin  againft  him. — 
And  this    circumfpedlion  ferves,  not    only  as  a 
guard  againft  the  commiflion  of  iin  ;    but  it  has  a 
powerful  influence  alfo  upon  the  performance  of 
'  duty.     It  ftimulates  the  man  who  fears  the  Lord, 
to  a  confcientious  and  faithful  difcharge  of  the 
whole  of  his  duty,  to  the  utmoft  of  his  power.     It: 
guards  him  againft  omitting  it  in  the  fcalon  there- 
of;  and  engages  him  to  attend,  not  only   to  the 
matter,  but  to  the  m.anner  of  his  performing  it. 


R    O    D    G    E    R    S.  345 

In  a  word,  this  habitual  care,  this  circumfpcc- 
tion  of  condudi:,  that  we  do  not  omit  our  duty  to 
God,  our  neighbor,  or  ourfelvesj  that  we  perform 
it  in  the  proper  time  and  manner;  and  that  we  do 
not  knowingly  and  wilfully  fin  againfl  God,  is  li- 
terally to  he  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the  day  longs 
and  is  one  principal  thing  the  Holy  Spirit  intends 
by  the  precept  in  our  itxt. 

3.  This  fear  of  the  Lord  has  for  its  objedl,  the 
juft  difpleafure  of  God ^  as  due  to  us  for  fin. 

That  we  have  finned  againfl  God,  and  hereby 
merited  his  highefl  difpleafure,  are  melancholy 
truths,  that  we  do  not,  cannot  admit  of  a  doubt. 
And  hence  thofe  numerous  evils  that  have  fo  uni- 
verfally  overfpread  this  world  of  ours  ;  fuch  as  fick- 
nefs  and  pain,  war  and  famine,  poverty,  difgrace, 
and  death  itfclf ;  and  together  with  thefe,  our  be-, 
ingjuftly  liable  to  be  punifhed  with  evcrlafiing  de^ 
ftruclion  from  the  prefence  of  the  Lord,  and  from  the 
glory  of  his  pozver.  Moral  and  natural  evil  are  in- 
feparably  connedled,  and  the  latter  never  fails  to 
follow  the  former,  in  a  greater  or  lefs  degree.  And 
fince  wc  are  finners,  and  confcious  to  ourfelves 
that  we  are  fo,  we  juftly  fear  the  divine  difpleafure 
due  to  us  therefor.  Thus  the  Pfalmifl — My  flr/b 
trembleth  for  fear  of  thee  ;  and  I  am  afraid  of  thy 
judgments.  Not  to  fear  the  judgments  of  God  ia 
this  firuation,  would  be  unpardonable  (lupidity, or 
a  profane  contempt  of  God.  And  this  fear  has  its 
intiuence  too  on  the  purity  of  the  life,  as  it  tends 
"i  guard  us  againfl  fin,  and  is,  therefore,  one  thing 

U  u 


34^  RODGER    S. 

implied  in  the  text — Be  thou  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord 
all  the  day  long. 

But  it  is  necelTaiy  to  diRinguiili  here,  between 
thatflaviili  fear  of  God's  judgnients,  that  deflroys 
our  peace  of  mind,  and  hereby  incapacitates  us  for 
the  duties  and  enjoyments  of  life ;  and  that  which 
only  fervcs  to  guard  us  againU:  fin.  The  former 
is  that  of  which  we  read,  i  John  iv.  1 8.  The-ir 
is  no  fear  in  love ;  but  -perject  love  cafteih  out  fear ; 
hecaufe  fear  hath  torment.  He  that  feareth  is  not 
made  perfe5l  in  love.  It  is  a  flavifh  fear  of  God's 
Wrath,  a  defpairing  horror  of  his. judgments,  of 
which  the  apodle  there  fpeaks.  This  is  that, 
which  perfons  under  the  power  of  a  melancholy 
habit  of  body  and  mind,  fometimes  have ;  and 
which  alfo  is  the  fear  of  thofe  who  defpair  of  the 
mercy  of  God  in  Chrifb.  But  this  is  not  the  fear 
which  I  at  prefent  defcribe.  It  is  only  that  fear 
of  the  divine  difpleafure  againft  fin,  that  fcrves  to 
awaken  our  attention  to  its  evil  nature,  and,  there- 
by, guard  us  againft  committing  it. 

Thus  much  for  the  nature  of  that  fear  of  the 
Lord  of  which  we  here  read. 

It  only  remains  under  this  head  that  we  enquire, 
what  it  is  to  be  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the  day 

long. 

And  this  in  general  means,  that  we  fliould  live 
under  the  habitual  influence  of  this  holy  temper. 
That  we  fhould  carry  it  with  us  into  all  the  duties 
Sii  the  religious  and  focial  life,, whether  of  a  more 


RODGER    S;  347> 

private  or  public  nature ;  that  we  carry  it  with  us 
into  all  the  bufinefTes  and  amufenients  of  common 
life;  into  all  companies  and  circumilances.     We 
arc  hereby  taught  that  there  is  no  lituation,  in 
which  we  can  be;  no  employment  in  which  we 
may  be  engaged,  but  what  we  (liould  conflantly 
adl  under  tiie  influence  of  this  tear  of  the  Lord. 
It  fiiould  rife  with  us  in  the  morning,  go   forth 
with  us,  attend  us  through  all  the  various  fcenes  of 
the  day,  and  lie  down  with  us  at  night.     And  this 
fhould  be  the  cafe  with  us,  through  all  the  days 
and  nights  of  our  appointed  time.     Thus,  he  thou 
in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  all  the  day  long;  the  whole 
day  of  life;  for  the  night  of  death  will  fnortly  come, 
and  put  a  final  period  to  it.     This,  is  the  fenfe  in 
which,  happy  is  the  man  that  feareth  alway ;  hut  he 
that  hardeneih  his  heart  fhall  fall  into  tn  if  chief 

This  leads  us  to  enquire — 

II.  Why  fliould  we  (tudy  to  be  in  the  fear  of 
the  Lord  all  the  day  long  ? 

Mybufinefs,  under  this  head,  is  to  mention  fome 
of  the  many  reafons,  why  we  fliould  be  particular- 
ly attentive  to  this  duty.  And  let  it  fuffice,  brief- 
ly, to  touch  upon  the  four  following  at  prefent. 

I .  //  is  an  excellent  guard  againfi  the  commi^(fion  of 

fin;  that  fin  which  conftitutcs  our  depravity,  and 

which  is  the  fruitful  fource  of  all  our  mifery.    This 

appears,  at  firfi:  fight,  from  what  has  been  faid  of 

its  nature.     Can  the  man,  knowingly  and  dclibe- 


34^  R    O    D    G    E    R    S. 

rately,  fin  againft  God,  who  has  a  fuitable  fenfc  of 
his  being,  his  perfections,  his  charader  and  his 
government  upon  his  fpirit  ?  No,  the  very  idea  of 
his  being  under  the  immediate  eye  of  that  God, 
who  ferves  as  a  folemn  witnefs  to  all  his  tranfac- 
tions ;  a  holy  and  a  juft  God,  to  whom  he  muil 
Ihortly  give  an  account  of  all  the  deeds  done  in  the 
body ;  would  check  his  career  and  deter  him  from 
fin.     Think  you,  my  brethren,  that  the  debauchee 
who  gives  himfelf  up  to  idlenefsand  profane  com- 
pany;   who  vvaftes  whole  days,    and  it  may  be 
nights,  in  the  tavern,  at  the  gaming  table,  or  in 
places  of  a  flill  more  infamous  charadler,  that  he 
can  have  the  fear  of  God  before  his  eyes  ?  Verily 
no.     It  is  becaufe  he  is  defiitute  of  this  principle, 
that  the  finner  refirains  prayer  before  God  ;   that 
he  dares  to  take  his  facred  name,  in  a  profane 
manner,  in  his  unhallowed  lips ;  that  he  dares  to 
get  drunk  ;  commit  uncleanncfs;  lie  ;  profane  the 
fabbath  of  the  Lord ;  fteal,  or  otherwife  defraud 
his  neighbor.     The  fear  of  the  Lord  would  effec- 
tually engage  him  to  forfake  thefe  and  every  other 
vicious  courfe.     It  would  fi:rip  temptation  of  its 
charms,  and  difarm  it  of  its  force. 

Hence  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  and  departing  from 
evil,  are  ufed  as  phrafes  of  the  fame  import.     Be^ 

hold  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  thai  is  wifdom  /  and  to  depart 
from  evil  is  underftandiyig.  And  we  read,  The  fear 
of  the  Lord  is  to  hate  evil.  And,  hy  ihe  fear  of  the 
Lord  mm  depart  from  evil.  This  is  the  fenfe  in 
which  the  fear  of  ihe  Lord  is  clcan^  enduring  for  ever. 


R     O    D     G    E    R     S.        ,349 

It  not  only  deters  us  from  fin,  and  guards  us  a- 
gainit  it;  but,  as  has  been  already  fuggeited,  it  ex- 
cites and  ftirnulates  us  to  lludy  a  thorough  con- 
forniiC/  in  heart  and  life,  to  the  approving  will  of 
God.  Hence  the  apoflle  exhorts  us  to  cleanfe  our-^ 
f elves  from  allfilthinefs  of  fleflj  and  fpiril, perfe^^ng 
holinefs  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord. 

2.  \t  greatly  affifts  us  in  the  right  performance  of 
duty.  I  mean  here  the  duties  we  owe,  more  imme- 
diately, to  the  moft  hign  God.     Thefe,  my   bre- 
thren, are  numerous  and  important.     They   are 
fecret,  private  and  public.     They  are  to  be  per- 
formed in  the  clofet,  the  family   and  the  fandtua- 
ry  ;  nor  is  it  pofiible  for  us  to  be  the  true  difci- 
ples  of  Chrift,  without  a  confcientious  attendance 
upon  them.     And  you  will  further  pleafe  to  ob- 
ferve,  God  juftly  requires  they  iliould  be  perform- 
ed in  a  humble  and  devout,  a  fpiritual  and  fincerc 
manner.     This  our  Lord  teaches  us  with  great 
care.     God  is  a  fpirit ;  and  they  that  zmrjloip   him^ 
muft  worjhip  him  in  fpirit  and  in  truth.     But  to  all 
this,  the  fear  of  the   Lord,  as  already  defcribed^ 
greatly  contributes.     For  in  proportion   as  this 
fear,  or  reverence  towards  God,  prevails  in  us,  will 
the  heart  be  fixed  upon  him,  the  glorious  objed: 
of  our  v/orfliip,  in  every  duty.     In  proportion 
hereto,  we  iliall  be  guarded  againfl:  thofe  vain  and 
wandering  thoughts  that  eat  out  the  very  foul  of 
our  duties,  and  degrade  them  into  empty  formali- 
ty.    God  requires  with  great  folcmnity,  myfon, 
give  me  thine  heart.     A  pirecept  that  particularly 


350    .  R    O    D    G    E    R    S. 

binds  us  in  this  cafe  of  duty  ;  for  our  God  look- 
eth  at  the  heart  principally,  in  all  our  approaches 
to  him  ;  and,  indeed,  he  has  a  fpecial  refped:  to  it, 
m  all  our  conduct. 

Again.  It  greatly  tends  to  invigorate  the 
graces  of  the  fpirit  in  the  foul,  and  to  call 
them  forth  into  lively  exercife.  The  more  this 
fear  of  God  governs  the  man,  the  more  adiive  and 
vigorous  will  his  graces  be.  For  the  fame  views  of 
the  perfedions,  character  and  Chrift  of  God,  that 
are  the  fource  of  the  one,  will  promote  the  other. 
Our  time  does  not  admit  of  {hewing  you,  here,  how 
this  is  to  be  efFecled.  It  muft  fuffice,  at  prefent, 
to  obferve,  that  fo  it  is ;  and  you  will  eafily  per- 
ceive, how  a  fpirit  of  devotion  is  hereby  promot- 
ed. For  the  proper  exercife  of  faith,  hope,  love 
to  God,  and  delight  in  him  in  duty,  is  that  in 
which  this  fpirit  confifl"s.  But,  the  more  this  is 
in  exercife,  the  more  eafy,  delightful  and  fpiritual 
will  our  duties  be. 

3.  This  fear  of  the  Lord  excites  us  to  the  inipor^ 
taut  duty  of  v:atchfidnejs^  and  greatly  affifis  therein. 
There  is  no  duty  of  the  Chrillian  life  more  fre- 
quently and  ftrongly  enjoined  in  the  fiicred  ora- 
cles, than  this.  You  hear  our  Lord  fay.  Matt. 
XX vi.  41.  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  enter  not  into 
temptation.  And  again — And  what  I  fay  unto  you^ 
I  fay  unto  all,  watch.  To  this  purpofe  are  the 
words  of  the  apoftle — V/atch  ye,  ftandfafi  in  the 
faith ^  cjiiit  yon  like  men,  be  Jirong. — Continue  in  pray ^ 
<rT,  and  watch  in  the  fame  zviih  thankf giving.     To 


R     O    D    G    E    R     S.  351 

■which  accords  his  exhortation  to  Timothy — But 
wajch  thou  in  all  things.  And  did  our  time  adniic 
of  confidering,  here,  the  many  fnares  to  which 
God's  own  people  are  expofed  in  this  life  ;  fnares 
that  arife  from  the  temptations  of  fatan,  the  al- 
lurements of  the  world,  and  the  depraved  tempers 
and  pafTions  of  the  human  heart,  you  would  cafi- 
ly  perceive  the  utility,  importance  and  necefiity 
of  this  duty.  There  are  none  of  all  the  duties  of 
t\\Q  Chriflian  life,  that  have  a  more  immediate 
and  powerful  influence  on  the  peace  of  our  own 
minds,  or  our  conformity  to  God.  It  muft,  there- 
fore, be  a  Angular  favor  to  be  properly  excited  to 
it,  and  aflifted  in  the  exercife  of  it.  But  this  is 
the  office  of  that  fear  of  the  Lord,  which  our  text 
enjoins,  as  appears  from  what  has  been  laid  of  its 
nature.  For  the  man,  who  fears  the  Lord  in  the 
manner  explained,  will  not  only  watch  againfl  ev- 
ery kind  of  fin,  but  alfo  thofe  c ire um (lances  of 
temptation  that  lead  to  it. 

4.  God  recommends  this  duty  to  our  fiiuly  and  prac- 
tice, by  his  divine  authority, — This  he  does  by  the 
high  encomiums  he  bellows  upon  it,  and  that 
with  this  exprefs  view.  It  is  zvifdom,  it  is  under^ 
fianding.  Thus  in  Job — Behold  the  fear  of  the 
Lord,  that  is  wifdom,  and  to  depart  from  evil,  is  un-. 
derflanding.  And  in  Proverbs — "Thefear  of  the  Lord 
is  the  beginning  of  knowledge  ;  or,  as  the  Hebrew 
word  will  well  admit  of  being  rendered,  it  is  the 
principal,  or  grand  conftiiuent  part  of  true  knowledge, 
4.nd  again — V^e  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  cf 


352  R    O    D    G    E    R    S. 

wifdom  ;  and  the  knowled^^e  of  the  holy^  is  underftand^ 
ing.  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  flrong  confidence  ;  and 
his  children  fh  all  have  a  place  of  refuge,  The  fear  of 
the  Lord  is  a  fountain  of  life y  to  depart  from  the  fnares 
of  death.  Add  to  ail  this,  the  duty  before  us  is 
matter  of  exprefs  command,  as  in  our  text.  Be 
thou  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the  day  long. 

Need  I  fay  more  to  recommend  it  to  your  flu- 
^"^  and  pradtice  ?  Would  you  vvifh  to  enjoy  the 
comforts  that  flow  from  the  purity  of  heart,  and* 
innocence  of  manners,  which  it  promotes  ? — 
Would  you  wifh  to  live  a  life  of  holy  and  delight- 
ful intercourfe  with  Heaven,  and  be  ufeful  in  your 
day  and  generation  ?  Would  you  wifh  to  grow 
daily  into  a  greater  meetnefs/^r  the  inheritance  of 
the  faints  in  light  ?  In  a  word,  would  you  wifh  to 

die  in  peace,  and  go  to  be  ever  with  the  Lord  ?  Be 
thou  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the  day  long.  And 
for  this  purpofe  I  befeech  you, 

I.  Study  to  acquire  more  and  more  of  the 
knowledge  of  God  ;  the  knowledge  of  his  perfec- 
tions, charadler  and  government ,-  efpecially  as 
they  are  manifefted  in  and  through  his  fon  Jefus 
Chrift.  What  has  been  already  faid  fliews  the 
influence  this  knowledge  has  on  this  fear  of  the 
Lord.  It  is  its  true  fource.  Thu?  it  becomes 
life  eternal  to  know  God^  as  the  only  true  God,  and  Je-- 
fus  Chrify  zvhom  he  hathfent, 

1,  Be  much  and  frequent  in  meditating  upon 
the  divine  perfc6lions.     Call  up  their  various  and 


R    O    D    G    E    R    S.  353 

inUmeroUs  difplays  to  your  daily  recolledloh,  and 
dwell  in  familiar  contemplation  upon  them.  Thus 
your  fouls  will  be  allimilated  to  them ;  acquire 
correfpondenc  tempers  and  difpofitions ;  the 
tempers  and  difpofitions  to  which  thefe  difplays 
of  the  attributes  of  God,  are  defigned  and  calcu- 
lated to  form  the  human  heart.  This  is  one  thing 
imported  in  having  our  converfation  in  Heaven y  from 
^whence  we  look  for  the  Saviour ^  the  Lordjefus  Chriji, 
And  the  fo  general  negledl  of  this  great  duty  of 
meditation,  is  one  of  the  fruitful  fdurces  of  that 
little  improvement  in  the  divine  life,  of  which  fo 
mnany  of  God's  people  daily  and  judly  complain  ; 
why  they  live  and  ad;  fo  much  beneath  the  dignity 
of  their  charadler,  as  the  difciples  of  a  holy  Jefus  ; 
and  often  act  fo  unworthy  the  juft  expedations  of 
both  their  God  and  the  world  ref]3edlingthem* 

3.  Be  much  in  the  great  duty  of  prayer;  efpe-^ 
cially  be  confcientious  in  obfcrving  the  returning 
feafons  thereof,  private  and  focial — This  has  a  na- 
tural tendency  to  imprefs  ourfpirits  with  that  re- 
verence for  the  divine  perfections  and  charadter^ 
that  enters  fo  deeply  into  the  duty  before  us.  And 
not  only  fo,  but  in  this  way  we  are  to  leek,  and  ia 
this  way  we  may  hope  to  d»btain  thofe  influences 
of  the  fpirit  of  graccj  by  which.this  fear  of  the  Lord 
is  moll  cffedually  maintained  and  promoted  in  the 
hearts  and  lives  of  men.  My  brethren,  if  you  do 
not  make  confcicnce  of  this  duty,  in^youi"  clofets 
and  fimilies,  fuch  of  you  as  have  families,  yoU 
cannot  live  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord.     Therefore  Jt 

Xx 


3S4  R    O    D    G    E    R    S. 

befccch  you,  continue  in  prayer y  and  watch  in  the 
fame  zviih  thank/giving, 

LaJIJy,  To  the  duty  of  prayer,  add  that  of  watch- 
fulncfs.  You  have  jufi:  heard  the  influence  this 
duty  has  on  our  perfonal  conformity  to  God ;  I 
need  not  repeat  it.  Watch,  therefore,  your  own 
hearts ;  attend  to  what  palTes  there. 

Keep  thy  heart  with  all  diligence ;  for  out  of  it  are 
the  ifjues  of  life.  Watch  your  lips,  that  you  fpeak 
not  unadvifedly  therewith  ;  watch  your  lives,  that 
you  do  not  offend  againft  God's  pure  and  holy 
law ;  watch  thou  in  all  tlmigSy  and  thus  le  thou  in 
the  fear  of  the  Lord  all  the  day  long. 

May  the  Lord  gracioufly  enable  each  of  us,  thus 
to  cleanfe  ourfehes  from  all  filth  inefs  offlejb  andfpirit, 
perfe5}ing  holinefs  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord;  through 
riches  of  free  grace  in  Chrift  our  Lord.     Amen. 


\».-      v/      \v 

r^:    r^"    r^K 

>     4    Nl 


SERMON     XIX, 

The  pleasantness   of   TRUE 
RELIGION. 

B    Y 

NATHAN    PERKINS,    A.  M. 

Minliler  of  a  Congregational  Church,  at  Hartford,  Weil  Divifion, 

Connecticut. 


■"»»«^"f-!Wi*ViWW,VlVt"fl.^'ft>n*"- 


Matt.     >:i.  30. 
For  vjy  yoke  is  eafy  and  my  burden  is  light, 

T  71  THEN  we  view  the  flate  of  religion  in  par- 
^  ^  ticular,  and  of  mankind  in  general,  few 
things  will  appear  more  important  than  to  con- 
vince them,  that  the  fyftem  of  piety  and  virtue,  to 
which  they  are  called  by  the  voice  of  infpiraticn 
and  of  rcalbn,  is  at  once  full  of  the  richelt  confola- 
tions,  and  adorns  every  ftation  and  condition  of 
human  life.  Upon  a  careful  inveftigation  of  its 
difcriminating  principles,  and  a  critical  examina- 
tion of  its  native  tendency,  it  will  be  clearly  fcen 
to  be  wifely  calculated  by  its  heavenly  author,  to 
make  us  adt  like  rational  beings,  to  open  for  us 
treafuresof  real  happinefs  in  the  prefent,  and  to 
crown  us  with  cndlcfs  honors  in  the  future  world. 


c 


♦ 


35^  PERKINS. 

When  cordially  embraced,  and  its  duties  confcien-r 
tioiifly  performed,  then,  and  then  only,  notwith- 
ilanding  the  corrupt  opinions  of  falfe  Philofophy,, 
do  we  begin  to  live  to  any  good  and  noble  purpo-. 
fes:  and  then  only  do  we  begin  to  be  truly  happy. 
For  no  pleafures  can  equal,  in  refinement  and  fub- 
^miry,  thofe  of  pure  and  undefiled  religion. 

No  miftake,  confequently,  can  be  more  grofs 
and  hurtful,  and  few  more  common  than  to  fup- 
pofe,  that  in  order  to  be  ChrilUans  indeed,  wc 
mull  refign  all  the  innocent  enjoyments  of  life,  andi 
bid  adieu  to  many  of  the  blefiings  of  fociety,  and. 
'  pradtife  upon  a  total  fequeftration  from  the  world. 
For  certain  it  is,  that  glooms  and  fupcrllition,  iad- 
nefs  and  auiferities  conftitute  no  part  of  that  reli- 
gion, which  our  blelTed  Saviour  came  from  Hea- 
ven to  proclaim  to  periihing  mortals. 

He  particularly  informs  us,  that  his  yoke  is  eafy 
and  his  burden  light.  He  had  jud  before  invited,  in 
a  mod  tender  and  ccndefcending  manner,  all  who 
faw  their  guilt,  and  felt  their  loft,  feif- ruined  con- 
dition by  nature,  to  repair  to  him  for  help  and  fal- 
vation.  C^^me  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy 
laden,  an^  I  will  give  you  reft,  ^'ake  my  yoke  upoK 
yrjUy  and  learn  of  me ,  for  lam  meek  and  lowly  in  heart 
and  yeJt?aUjind  reft  unto  your  fouls.  Ye  ftiall  be  put 
in  polTclTion  of  that  peace  and  happincfs  \\hich  the 
whole  human  race  fcek  v/ith  incelrant  ardor,  but. 
v/hich  the  great  plurality  feck  too,  in  a  wrong  way, 
^nd,  therefore,  never  find.     To  perfuade  us  to  i<^ 


PERKINS,  357 

pair  to  him,  to  embrace  his  offers,  and  follow  his 
example,  he  ufes,  as  a  moft  powerful  argument, 
the  eafinefs  and  pleafures  of  his  religion — For  my 

yoke  is  eajy  and  my  burden  light. 

What  is  propofed  in  the  lubfequent  difcourfe^in 
dependance  on  divine  aid,  is  to  make  it  appear  that 
the  religion  required  of  us  is  an  eafy  and  pleafant; 
religion,  full  of  peace  and  happinefs. 

That  the  religion  of  the  gofpel  is  an  eafy  plea- 
fant religion,  full  of  peace,  and  moft  friendly  to  our 
intereft,  in  a  large  view,  is  an  important  truth^^ 
worthy  the  attention  of  all  of  every  ftation  and 
charadler,  and  may  be  illuftrated  and  proved  by  a 
great  number  of  arguments  from  reafoa  and  fcrip- 
ture. 

In  general,  virtue  has  charms  fufficient  to  re* 
commend  it  to  the  love  and  purfuit  of  all  orders  of 
men.     Its  beauties  are  fuch  as  to  have  found  ad- 
vocates in  every  age ;  who  have  laviflicd  upon  it 
the  pomp  of  defcription,  and  fpread  around  it  the 
flowers  of  Rhetoric.  Moft  certainly  its  excellencies 
are  fuch,  as  ought  to  call  up  the  attention  and  at- 
trad  the  notice  of  the  world : — Its  effedls  in  this 
life  are  peace,  and  its  rewards  in  the  next  furpafs 
all  conception.     There  is  a  dignity  and  majefty 
in  it,  which  ought  to  create  in  the  mind  an  awe, and 
command  a  reverential  refped:.  A  character  form- 
ed upon  the  model  of  the  gofpel  is  the  moft  exalt- 
ed any  can  wear,  far  more  exalted  than  the  higheft 
worldly  honors  can  give.  If  any  thing  can  recon>- 


,3S^.  P    E    R    K    I    N    S.c 

mend  the  chrifiian  religion  to  the  bed  and  worthi- 
eft  of  the  human  kind,  it  mufl:  be  a  confideration  of 
its  internal  excellence,  and  tendency  to  render  all, 
who  receive  and  pradice  it,  both  good  and  happy. 
What  could  have  a  more  dired  influence  to  make 
a  thoughtlefs  race  confider  and  attend  to  the  Cnrif- 
tian  religion,  tlian  to  hear  its  author  fay — My  yoke 
is  eafy  and  my  burden  is  light. 

I.  In  this  metaphorical  language,  reference  is 
undoubtedly  had  to  the  heavy  burdens  and  hard 
yoke  of  Jewifh  rites  and  ceremonies.  The  Chrif- 
tian  religion  in  its  doclrines,  duties,  and  inftituti- 
ons,  is  eafy,  therefore,  compared  with  the  difpen- 
fation  under  the  law.  ne  law  zvas  given  by  Mofes^ 
hut  grace  and  truth  came  by  Jejus  Chrift,  The  cove- 
nant of  the  Jews  bound  them  to  many  fervile,  ex- 
penlive  and  laborious  offices.  Their  rites  and  ce- 
remonies, their  facrifices  and  ftated  journies  to  Je- 
rufalem,  which  their  males  were  to  perform  three 
times  in  the  year,  were,  for  the  moft  part,  of  this 
kind.  And  thofe  particular  and  pofitive  laws, 
which  related  to  their  civil  (late,  and  were  inter- 
woven with  their  religion,  were  grievous  and  en- 
cumbring.  And,  indeed,  the  whole  frame  of  the 
Jewilh  ritual,  was  as  the  apoflle  calls  it,  a  yoke  of 
bondage t  which  neither  they  nor  their  fathers  were  able 
to  bear.  In  the  religion  ofthegofpel,  all  this,  load  of 
ceremonies  is  no  more.  We  have  no  fuch  yoke  of 
bondage,  no  fuch  burden  of  rites  laid  upon  our  neck. 
We  have  no  fuch  lengthy  journies  to  go,  in  order 
to  attend  upon,  and  enjoy  the  folemnities  of  public 


PERKINS.  359 

worfhip.  We  have  no  vidims  to  bring  to  the  al- 
tar; no  beafts  are  to  bleed;  no  coftly  facrifices 
have  we  to  offer;  no  laborious  and  fatiguing  offi- 
ces to  perform.  We  arc  not  to  come  before  the 
Lord  with  burnt-offerings — with  calves  of  a  year 
old — withthoufands  of  rams,  or  rivers  of  oil — ca-» 
fily  may  we  attend  upon  the  fervice  of  the  fandlu- 
ary;  and,  in  every  place  where  the  people  of  God 
convene  for  his  worfliip,  from  upright  motives, 
they  have  grounds  to  hope  for  his  favorable  pre- 
fence,  divine  affiilance  and  approbation.  Two 
ritual  inilitutions  only,  baptifm  and  the  eucharifl", 
are  enjoined  in  the  gol]3el,  both  of  which,  infbead 
of  having  any  thing  in  them  dark  and  burdenfome, 
are  fo  plain,  fpiritual  and  fignificant,  as  to  be  very 
fubfervient  to  the  power  of  real  religion,  and  pur- 
pofcs  of  fervent  piety.  How  different  the  Chrif- 
tian  from  the  Jewifli  difpenfation!  The  one  is  dark 
and  enigmatical,  and  the  other  fimple  and  plain. 
The  one  abounds  with  various  rites,  the  nature  and 
delign  of  which  are  not  always  readily  feen  or  in- 
veftigated  ;  the  other  is  all  light  and  liberty.  As 
the  fplcndor  of  the  meridian  fun  exceeds  the  fee- 
ble and  reflected  light  of  the  moon,  fo  does  the 
religion  of  the  gofpel  that  of  the  law,  the  yoke  of 
Chrift  that  of  Mofcs.  It  is  not  only  more  plain 
in  its  principles,  and  fpiritual  in  its  duties,  but 
more  rational.  The  religion  of  nature  hath  re- 
ceived its  laft  improvements,  and  moral  obligati- 
ons are  carried  to  their  utmoft  extent,  under  the 
gofpel  difpenfation.     Whatever  it  bids  us  doj  or 


56o  P    E    k    K    I    N    S; 

requires  us  not  to  do,  is  adapted  to  our  reafon  and 
confcience.  There  is  no  need  of  a  long  train  of 
reafoning  to  convince  us  of  the  ficnefs,  excellence, 
and  tendency  of  the  precepts  of  our  Lord,  or  the 
importance  of  cordially  obeying  them:  Mankind, 
at  large,  can  immediately  difcern  all  this.  Every 
finner,  of  courfe,  who  vi'ill  not  be  reclaimed  from 
his  vices,  and  fcek  pardon  through  a  Redeemer's 
atoning  blood,  is  under  a  double  condemnation, 
that  of  his  own  confcience  and  of  God's  word;  and 
every  pious  and  upright  Chridian,  under  all  the 
"wounds  of  adveriity,  has  thefe  two  fources  always 
open  for  his  confolation,  the  approbation  of  his 
confcience,  and  the  promifed  blcflings  of  thegof* 
pel;  both  of  which  he  enjoys  with  a  fuller  fatisfac* 
tion  and  to  a  greater  extent,  than  they  could  ever 
be  enjoyed  under  the  myflical  and  ceremonial  d if* 
penfation  of  the  Jews.  That  difpenfation  had  no 
merit  in  it,  but  as  typical :  it  was  deiigned  in  its 
A^ery  frame  and  make,  to  be  temporary,  and  for  a 
fmall  part  of  the  human  race,  and  to  prefigure  and 
prepare  the  way  for  the  gofpel.  It  was  a  fhadow 
of  good  things  to  come,  A  new  and  living  way 
is  confecrated  for  us. 

What  a  beauty,  fitnefs  and  order  are  there 
through  the  wholly  of  the  religion  of  Jefus;  through 
all  its  duties — its  dodtrines — its  precepts — its  iit- 
ftitutions — its  joys,  and  its  promifes  !  What  a  rea- 
fonablenefs  and  fitnefs  in  our  duly  attending  its  of- 
fers, and  conforming  our  hearts  and  lives  to  its 
laws !  How  fit  and  fuitable  that  we  ihould  worfliip* 


PERKINS.  2^1 

fear,, love  and  obey  hfm,  who  is  the  fountain  ot 
glory  and  goodnelsl  How  infinitely  right  that  wc 
Ihould  receive,  admire  and  trull  in  the  grace  of  a 
Mediator !  How  fit  that  we  ftiould  regard  our  fel- 
low men  with  the  lincereft  benevolence  ;  that  our 
hearts  ihould  be  open  to,  and  feel  the  principles  of 
jullice,  companion  and  charity ;  that  our  tranfgref- 
fions,  in  all  their  number  and  aggravations,  iliould 
be  mourned  over,  with  tears,  the  flowing  tears  of 
pious  grief;  and  that  all  our  evil  courfes  ihould  be 
utterly  relinquiflied  1  Thefe,  it  will  be  conceded, 
are  fomc  of  the  moll  necelTary  and  elTential  duties 
of  the  golpel ;  and  the  appeal  concerning  their  rea- 
fonablenefs,  may  be  made  to  every  candid  mind. 
Is  there  not  a  moil  evident  fimefs  in  them?  Do 
they  not,  at  firil  view,  recommend  themfelves  to 
our  confciences  ?  Mud  it  not  be  prejudice  or  un- 
rcafonable  oppofition  to  the  gofpcl,  that  fhall  ob- 
ject again  11  them  ?  He  who  turns  away  from  the 
religion  of  Chriil,  acls  then  moil  unreafonably, 
and  is  guilty  of  the  higheft  incongruity.  Becaufe 
there  is  nothing  which  the  Supreme  Being  require^j 
of  us,  as  duty,  or  to  which  the  Saviour  calls  us,  but, 
ill  its  own  nature,  is  fit  and  reafonable. 

IL  Further,  Chrifi's  yoke  may  be  confidered  as 
eafy  and  his  burden  light,  as  the  fyllem  of  piety 
and  virtue,  to  which  he  invites  mankind,  is  the 
moll:  heavenly  aUd  fpiritual. 

If  ever  a  gracious  God  fhould  vouchfafe  to  fa- 
vor the  world  with  a  revelation  of  his  will,  it  is  na-^ 


362  PERKINS. 

tural  to  fuppofc,  it  would  inculcate  what  only  is 
•heavenly  and  divine  in  its  tendency.     And  we 
mud:  have  the  candor  to  acknowledge,  that  the  fu- 
preme  aim  of  Chridianity,  is  to  make  us,  in  all  re- 
fpeds,  fuch  as  we  fhould  be,  pious  and  holy,  bene- 
volent and  kind,  jufi:  aqdlincere.  It  hath  no  other 
defign  but  to  make  us  happy — to  wipe  off  the  flow- 
ing tear  from  the  wet  cheek — to  eafe  the  anguifh- 
ed  heart — to  pour  the  oil  of  confolation  into  its 
wounds — to  mitigate  our  woes — to  remove  our 
fears— to  reconcile  us  to  our  fate — to  fit  us  for,  and 
finally  receive  us  to  Heaven.     The  very  nature  of 
Chrift's  religion    is  to   illuminate  the  darkened 
niind,  purify  the  diforded  affedions,  raife  us  above 
a  vain  world,  and  to  deftroy  our  worft  enemy,  our 
(Own  iinfulnefs.     For  he  was  revealed  to  deffroy 
the  works  of  the  Devil,  to  fubvert  the  empire  of 
fin  and  delufion.     Such  a  fyftem  as  that  of  the 
gufpel  muft  recommend  itfelf,  by  its  own  internal 
excellence;  like  the  king's  daughter,  it  is  all  glori- 
ous within,  beautiful  as  Tirzah,  comely  as  Jerufa-. 
lem,  fair  as  the  moon,  clear  as  the  fun.     Whofe 
heart  but  muft  be  charmed  with  its  beauties  and 
glories.    Its  vi'orfhip,  for  example,  is  fublime,  pure 
and  heavenly:  the  heart  is  the  altar,  whence  facri- 
fices  are  ftatedly  to  be  offered  to  the  divine  Majef- 
ty.     The  fpirituality  of  gofpel  worfhip  is  particu- 
'krly  foretold  by  our  Lord,  in  his  conference  with 
the  Samaritan  woman.     But  the  hour  cofucth  and 
now  is,  when  the  true  zvorJJjippersJhallzvorJJjip  the  Fa- 
iher  in/pirit  and  truth;  for  the  Father  feeketh  fuch  ta 


PERKINS.  2^3 

worjhip  him,  God  is  a  Spirit ^  and  they  thai  worjhip 
hiiUy  miifi  worjhip  him  injpirit  and  in  truth.  The  holy 
prayers  and  pure  oblations  of  the  heart,  in  which 
the  efTencc  of  gofpel  worfhip  doth  coniifl:,  were 
prefigured  by  the  incenfe  and  unblemiihed  facri- 
fices  under  the  law. 

III.  The  plainnefs  of  the  mofi:  eflential  doilrines 
of  Chrift  is  ju Illy  to  be  confidered,  as  a  further  evi- 
dence, that  his  yoke  is  eajy.  His  religion  is  a  plain, 
as  well  as  reafonable  and  heavenly  religion.  In 
^rder  to  be  generally  ufeful,  it  mult  be  eafy  to  be 
underftood.  The  bulk  of  mankind  have  neither 
leifure  nor  abilities  to  attend  to  a  dark  and  abftrufc 
fyftem  of  Theology.  The  gofpel  is  defigned  for  the 
MANY,  not  for  the  learned  few — for  all  orders  of 
people  ;  not  for  men  of  fcience  and  fpeculation  on- 
ly. And,  though  fome  points  in  it  be  allowed  to 
be  myfterious  and  hard  to  be  comprehended,  yet 
all  the  doClrines  neceiTary  to  our  falvation,  arc 
plain  and  level  to  the  weakeft  capacities.  An  ho- 
neft  heart  is  the  principal  requilite  to  a  right  un- 
derftanding  of  the  moll  neceiTary  truths.  He  who 
iincerely  willies  to  know  and  do  his  duty,  is  in  no. 
hazard  of  milling  the  way  to  eternal  life,  while  he 
diligently  confults  the  facred  pages,  and  to  an  up-* 
right  enquiry  after  truth  and  duty,  joins  con  Rant 
prayer.  If  any  man  will  do  his  will,  hejhall  know  of 
the  do5lrine  whether  it  be  of  God,  or  whether  IfpeaJz 
oJw)f^lf- — He  that  is  of  God,  heareth  God's  words  :  ye^ 
therefore,  bear  them  not,  hecaufe  ye  are  not  of  God. — 
Who  among  us  but  knows  the  great  out -lines  of 


564  P    E    R    K    I    N    5. 

duty?  Even  childen,  that  are  well  educated,  know 
that  they  ought  to  love,  fear,  and  pray  to  their  fa- 
ther, who  is  in  Heaven,  to  receive  and  acknow- 
ledge the  Redeemer — to  do  good  to  others — and 
to  rule  their  own  evil  pafHons,  In  fhort,  the  prac- 
tical part  of  religion  is  fo  plain,  that  none  can  mif- 
take  it,  but  they  who  refolve  to  pervert  it.  If  we 
take  into  the  account,  the  difcoveries  which  Chrifl 
made  concerning  a  future  world,  we  fhali  be  flill 
more  convinced  that  his  yoke  is  eajy.  He  has  open- 
ed to  us  l'c\t  ruin  of  our  nature  by  the  apoftacy — 
the  method  of  our  recovery — the  way  in  which  we 
are  to  be  fandlified  and  pardoned,  viz.  by  the  in- 
fluences of  his  fpirit,  and  atonement  of  his  blood  : 
I4e  has  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light;  the 
•w'ifefl  of  the  Pagan  Philofophers  but  faintly  hop- 
ed and  guelTcd  after  another  flate  of  being,  but  to' 
Chriftians,  their  Lord  has  made  the  mod  particu- 
lar difcoveries  of  a  future  flate  ;  given  the  moft  af- 
fcdling  dcfcriptions  of  the  happinefs  of  the  righ- 
teous, and  the  miferies  of  the  wicked,  after  death. 
The  rewards  and  punifnments  of  the  other  world 
are  exhibited  to  us,  under  the  mofl  llrong  and 
lively  images,  and  the  way  how  to  obtain  the  one, 
and  avoid  the  other,  pointed  out  to  us,  in  the  clearefl: 
manner.  Let  the  candid  and  unbiased  mind,  for 
a  moment,  impartially  furvcy  the  very  genius 
and  make  of  the  religion  of  Jefus.  It  is  a  mod 
mild  and  humane,  a  moft  benevolent  and  gentle 
iyflcm,  free  from  fanaticifm  and  fuperflition,  un- 
natural rigors  and  ufclefs  ceremonies.    'The  ziijdcm 


PERKINS,  36s. 

ihat  is  from  above  is  firfi  pure^  then  peaceable,  gentle 
^ndeajy  to  be  intreatedy  full  of  mercy  and  good  fruits, 
ivith'Ut  partiality  and  hypocrify.  It  is  tlie  very  ge- 
nius of  this  divine  Philofophy,  to  diffufe  over  the 
world  tendernefs  and  humility,  love  and  peace, 
harmony  and  good  order,  to  foften  and  humanize 
the  foul,  to  create  within  us  fublime  hopes,  and  to 
qualify  us  for  perfe6l  felicity.  Every  focial,  every 
friendly,  every  noble  fentiment  is  encouraged,  all 
Iburnefs,  wrath,  bitternefs,  evil-fpeaking,  and  evil 
paflions  are  abfolutely  prphibitcd.  There  is  no  one 
law,  there  is  no  one  precept,  or  one  redridlion,  in  the 
peaceful  fydcm  of  the  gofpel,but  tends  to  univerfal 
goodnefs,  the  higheft  and  befl  intereil  of  focicty. 
What  is  thefpiritof  Chrifljbutafpiritofmeeknefs, 
of  kindnefs,  of  candor,  of  fympathy,  of  generofity, 
benevolence  and  philanthropy?  Grace  and  truth 
came  by  Jcfus  Chrifi.  All  pride,  vain-glory,  cruel- 
ty, revenge,  and  evil  paiTions  are  expelled  from 
the  human  breaft:,  fo  far  as  the  gofpel  takes  place 
in  it.  A  merciful  and  lenient,  a  forgiving  and  be- 
neficent religion,  is  that  which  we  are  required  to 
embrace.  A  benevolent  and  good,  a  gracious  and 
forgiving  God,  would  not  impofe  upon  men,  anv 
other  than  a  religion  of  good-will,  that  fliould  raife 
in  us  the  fined  feelings,  expand  the  mind  vich 
the  brightcd  hopes,  and  render  us  in  the  end  hap- 
py. Accordingly,  there  are  'in  Chriftianity,  n^ 
unnecfTary  auflerities  or  rigorous  impoficions,  no 
cruel  and  bloody  tenets,  no  harfli  and  fevere  com- 
vnands.    We  are  only  required  to  be  holy  and  hap- 


26&  PERKINS. 

py.  God  is  not  an  auftcre  mafter,  as  iinners  arc 
apt  to  think  him,  neither  is  he  pleafed  with  melan- 
choly glooms,  or  fuperftitious  horrors.  Every 
thing  that  can  contribute  to  our  real  good,  or  is 
friendly  to  our  befl  intereft,  or  promotive  of  the 
dignity  of  man,  is  allowed  us.  Supremely  happy 
bimfelf,  and  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  eternity, 
God  only -requires  that  we  fnould  be,  in  our  mea- 
fUre,  like  himfelf,  holy  and  happy.  And  if  we 
would  comply  with  his  offers  of  mercy  and  par- 
don, we  fhould  have  confolations  here  neither  few 
nor  fmall ;  and  glory,  honor  and  beatitude  hereaf- 
ter. What  one  dodlrine  of  Chrift  is  cruel  and 
hard  ?  What  one  duty,  which  he  enjoins,  fevere 
and  unfriendly  to  our  befl:  good  ?  All  he  requires 
of  us  is  perfedlly  fit  and  reafonable  ;  and  all  things 
conlidered,  more  than  any  thing  elfe  could  be,  for 
our  happinefs.  He  is,  therefore,  a  good  mafler,  his 
yjoke  is  eafy,  his  religion  is  m.ade  up  of  goodnefs 
a-nd  benevolence,  and  leads  to  joys  inconceivable, 
and  to  rivers  of  immortal  pleafure.  And  did  it 
take  place  perfedly  in  our  hearts,  and  in  the  hearts 
of  all  men,  we  Hiould  not  need  to  depart  from  this 
world,  for  Heaven,  we  lliould  find  it  here.  Indeed 
all  the  joys  of  the  celedial  paradifc,  are  but  the 
produdl  of  the  religion  of  the  divine  Jefus.  This 
idea  will  not  now  be  enlarged  upon,  for  I  Ihall  foon 
have  occafion  to  refume  it. 

IV.  Thofe  confolations  which  Chrifl  hath  pro- 
vided for  his  followers,  in  their  greateft  extremi- 
ty, the  hour  of  diirolution,  mull  not  be  palTed  over* 


5P    E    R    K    I    N    S.  367 

This  is  a  very  common  argument,  I  am  fenfible, 
to  prove  his  yoke  is  eafy  and  bis  burden  lights  and 
it  is  likewifc  a  very  convincing  one.     Death  is  the 
fcene  in  which  we  muft  all  be  acflors,  the  great 
and  honorable,  as  well  as  the  low  and  unworthy. 
At  that  folemn  and  avt'ful  hour,  the  comforts  of 
the  good  man  may  overflow,  and  he  lift  up  his 
head  with  joy,  becaufe  his  redemption  dra^^eta 
nigh.    Nothing  is  more  likely  to  imprefs  the  mind 
with  a  fenfe  of  the  worth  and  glory  of  religion, 
than  looking  forward  to  the  moments  of  dilTolu- 
tion;  and  feeing  ho v/  the  Chriflian  may  bid  adieu 
to  tcrreftrial  things;  his  peace;  his  joy;  hiscom- 
pofure  ;  or  his  triumiph.     At  the  awful  folemni- 
ties  of  a  dying  hour,  the  review  of  a  life  devoted  to 
the  befh  of  all  Beings,  will  fill  the  foul  with  ration- 
al, calm,  and  fatisfying  delight.     The  things  of 
another  world  appear  more  folid  and  real  to  a  dy- 
ing faint,  as  he  draws  near  to  them,  and  his  faith 
begins  to  turn  into  vifion,  and  his  hope  into  frui- 
tion.    He  now,  at  the  point  in  which  we  view 
him,  ftands  upon  the  confines  of  both  worlds,  in 
the  pofTedion  of  reafon,  and  difcerns,  with  more 
clearnefs,  the  vanity  and  emptinefs  of  that  from 
which  he  is  going,  and  the  fublb.ntial  and  durable 
happinefs  of  that  into  which  he  is  juft  about  to 
enter.     So  that  when  he  walks  through  the  fliady 
valley  of  death  he  fears  no  evil;  and  his  defires  are 
then  moft  lively  and  vigorous,  when  he  is  ready  to 
give  up  the  ghof}.     The  voice  of  nature,  the  voice 
of  reafon,  and  the  voice  of  confcience  concur,  in 


36^  PERKINS. 

faying  to  the  righteous,  that  it  /hall  he  well  wilh 
him.  III  his  lalt  moments,  he  reviews  his  pafl:  life 
-with  pleafure,  bids  farewel  to  the  world  in  peace, 
receives  the  awful  fummons  with  calmnefs,  launches 
forth  into  a  boundlefs  eternity  with  triumphant 
hopes,  looks  upward  to  his  God  with  delight,  and 
forward  to  Heaven  with  rapture.  And,  when  all 
is  ciofed  upon  his  view,  and  the  curtains  of  death 
are  drawn,  he  enters  on  a  (late  of  perfedt  reft. 

V.  It  will  only  be  fubjoined,  that  Chrift's  yoh 
is  eafy  and  his  burden  light,  as  his  religion  will  ter- 
minate in  immortal  honor.     The  confequence  of 
receiving  and  pradlifing  his  religion,  in  another 
world,  will  be  all  the  blifs  of  Paradife,  joys  incon- 
ceivable,  and  raptures  on  earth  unknown.     Oa 
fuch  a  iubjedl,  language  lofes  its  energy.     Pomp 
of  words  only  debafes  it.     I  ihall  only  afk,  will 
then  the  happinefs  of  Heaven  be  the  refult  of  pie- 
ty and  virtue  here?  Shall  all  the  followers  of  the 
meek  and  lowly  Jcfus,  at  lafl:,  fit  down  with  Abra- 
ham, Ifaac  and  Jacob,  in  the  kingdom  of  God, 
when  all  fhall  come  from  the  eaft  and  wefl",  from 
the  north  and  fouth,  when  all  the  good  fhall  be  re- 
ceived to  glory,  and  the  wicked  burned  with  un- 
quenchable fire  ?  Will  they  be  welcomed  to  thofc 
realms  of  eternal  day,  where  they  fhall  fliine  a?  the 
brightnefs  of  the  firmament,  and  as  the  liars  for 
ever  and  ever — Where  all  the  foul  Ihall  ^ct],  Ihall 
be  perfect  blifs,  and  all  it  fliall  exprefs  Q^all  be  per-» 
kS:  praifc — where  all  tears  Ihall  be  wiped  away — • 
where  pcrfed  love  iliall  fill  every  heart — and  exalt-. 


PERKINS.  369 

ed  Hofannas  employ  every  tongue? — Will  all  this 
be  our  portion,  if  we  take  Chriil's  yoke  upon^  us  ? 
Doth  religion  end  fo  glorioufly  ?  Certainly  then  in 
is  our  higheli  interefl",  it  is  happinefs  itfelf.  Vv'^cll 
might  our  Lord  fay,  my  yoke  is  eafy — 7ny  burden  lights 

A  few  palHiges  of  holy  writ  will  now  be  added„ 
to  finilh  the  argument.  From  one  end  cf  the  ik- 
cred  volume  to  the  other,  the  idea  of  the  pleafures 
of  a  virtuous  temper  and  life  is  exhibited.  The 
happinefs  of  religion  is  foretold  by  the  Prophets 
promifed  by  Chrill,  and  recorded  by  the  Apoilles. 
By  the  Prophets  it  is  foretold  with  as  much  clear- 
nefs,  and  in  as  ftrong  terms,  as  either  the  holinefs 
of  Chriftians,  or  the  glory  of  their  Redeemer. 

Blejfedis  the  people  that  know  the  jvjfidjound  ^  they 
Jhall  walky  0  Lord,  in  the  light  of  thy  countenance.  In 
thy  natnejhall  they  rejoice  all  the  day;  and  in  thy  rigb-^ 
ieoufnefs  Jhall  they  be  exalted:  for  thou  art  the  glory  of 
their ftrength,  and  in  thy  faixirjhall  their  horn  be  ex.- 
alted..  For  the  Lord  is  cdr  defence^  and  the  holy  one 
of  Ifrael  is  our  king. 

In  v/hat  flronger  colors  i\\?in  thefe,  could  any 
perfon  be  reprefented,  whofe  whole  life  was  one 
continued  fcenc  of  pleafure  ? 

Again^  0  how  great  is  thygoodnefs^  O  God,  zchicb 
ihm  haft  laid  up  for  them  thai  fear  thcci  which  time 
haft  wrought  for  them  that  tntft  in  thee  before  the  fins 
ofvien,  Tlmi  /halt  bide  them  in  thefecret  of  thy  prs-^ 
fence  from  the  pride  of  men ^  tboufhall  keep  them  fecretly 
in  a  pavilion  from  the  fir  if e  of  tongttes.     Light  is  [own 

Z  a 


370  PERKINS, 

for  the  righteous,  and  gladnejs  for  the  upright  in  heart. 
Wifdoms  ways  are  ways  of  pleafantnefsy  and  all  her 
paths  peace ;  length  of  days  is  in  her  right  hand,  riches 
and  honor  in  her  left.     Great  peace  have  all  they  that 
keep  thy  holy  law  and  nothing  JJj all  offend  them.     His 
commands  are  not  grievous y  and  in  keeping  of  them  there 
is  great  reward.     What  a  beautiful  dcfcription  of 
the  value  and  worth  of  religion,  under  the  name  of 
■vvifdom,  have  we  in  the  following  palTage  1  But 
where  Jh  all  zvifdcm  he  found  F  and  zvhere  is  the  place 
of  underfianding?  Man  knoweth  not  the  price  thereof  j 
neither  is  it  found  in  the  land  of  the  living.     The  depth 
faith  it  is  not  in  me  and  thefea  faith  it  is  not  in  me.   It 
cannot  he  gotten  for  gold,  neither fJjall filver  he  weighed 
for  the  price  the)  eof    It  cannot  he  valued  with  the  gold  of 
Ophiry  with  the  precious  onyXy  or  thefapphire.  The  gold 
and  the  cryftal  cannot  equal  it :  and  the  exchange  of  it 
fhall  not  he  for  jezvels  of  fine  gold.    No  mention  JJo  all  he 
made  of  coral  or  of  pearls :  for  the  price  ofwifdom  is 
ahove  ruhies.     The  topaz  of  Ethiopia  Jh  all  not  equal  it 
neither /hall  it  he  valued  with  pure  gold.     What  the 
Prophets  foretold,  with  one  voice,  the  Redeemer 
hath  confirmed  by  his  declarations  and  promifes. 
Bleffedy  fays  he,  are  the  poor  infpirit  for  theirs  is  the 
kingdom  of  God,  Bleffed  are  the  meek  for  they  Jh  all  in- 
herit  the  earth,     Bleffed  are  they  that  mourn,  for  they 
fhall  he  comforted,     Bleffed  are  they  that  hunger  and 
thiy'Ji  after  right  eoufnefsy  for  they  fhall  he  filled,    Blef- 
fed are  the  mere  ifuly  for  they  Jhall  oh  tain  mercy.     Blef- 
fed are  the  pure  in  hearty  for  they  Jhall Jee  God,     And 
he  f aid  unto  tbe?n,  verily  I  fay  wiioyoUy  there  is  no  inau 


PERKINS.  371 

that  hath  left  houje^  or  parent s^  or  brethren^  or  wife,  or 
children y  for  the  kingdom  of  God' s  fake  ;  who  Jhall  not 
receive  manifold  more  in  this  prefent  time,  and  in  the 
world  to  come  lifeeternaL  And  in  the  text,  my  yoke 
is  eafy  and  7ny  burden  light.  If  you  call  his  religion 
a  yoke,  it  is  an  eafy  one.  If  you  call  it  a  burden, 
it  is  a  light  one. 

To  prove  that  religion  is  the  fource  of  the  mofl 
refined  happinefs,  many  teftimonies  may  be  coU 
le6led  from  theapoflles.  St.  Luke,  in  the  hiflory 
of  theacls  of  the  apoflles,  once  and  again  fpeaks 
of  joy  in  the  Holy-Ghoft ;  of  the  peace  and  plea- 
fmg  wonder  of  thofe  who  embraced  the  gofpel. — 
Thus  the  gaoler,  we  are  told,  rejoiced.  The  fame 
account  we  find  of  the  Ethiopian  eunuch.  As 
foon  as  Philip  preached  Jefus  to  him,  he  was  bap- 
tifed,  and  though  his  heaven-appointed  guide  was 
fnatched  from  him,  yet  the  doctrine  taking  place 
in  his  heart,  he  went  on  his  way,  it  is  not  faid,  rea- 
foning  only,  or  deeply  meditating,  or  the  like,  but 
rejoicing.  Indeed  we  have  reafon  to  fuppofe  that  all, 
who  heard  the  gofpel  to  purpofe,  heard  it  with  the 
fame  fentiments  of  joy.  They  behaved,  at  fird, 
like  perfons  quite  amazed  and  furprized  with  the 
grace  of  God.  And  where  nothing  of  habit  or  im- 
provement could  have  time  as  yet  to  nianifeft  it- 
felf,  they  were  raifed  by  the  pure  joys  of  the  gof- 
pel, above  this  world,  and  were  ready  to  undergo, 
for  its  defence,  the  greateil  of  all  fufferings.  Wc 
-read  alfo,  oi  rejoicing  always,  and  of  joy  uufpeakablc 
and  full  of  glory.    Sr.  Paul  comparing  the  ChriRian 


372  PERKINS. 

life  to  the  military,  calls  it  the  ^ood  fight  of  faith.  It 
is,  indeed,  good,  will  be  found  fo  at  death,  and  in 
a  fjture  ftate.  So  much  evidence  is  there  from  rea- 
fon  and  fcripture,  to  prove  that  Chrift's  j^^*^  is  eafy 
and  his  burden  light.     If  we  examine  either  the^ 
principles  or  the  duties — the  dodlrines  or  the  vir- 
tues— the  hopes,  or  the  inflitutions  of  Chriftianity, 
"we  Ihall  find  it  to  be  full  of  happinefs.     Did  it 
reign  in  all  hearts,  there  would  be  nothing  to  de- 
ftroy  in  all  God's  holy  mountain.    Nations  would 
beat  their  fvoords  into  plough -fbears,  and  their f pears 
into  pruning-hooks y  and  would  learn  zvar  no  more.   The 
■world  would  be  full  of  the  glory  of  the  Lord  :  earth 
a  (late  of  peace,  order  and  univerfal  good.     Such 
is  the  nature  and  tendency  of  the  benevolence  of 
the  gofpel.     O  benevolence  1  thou  brighteft  ray  of 
the   Creator's   glory!    thou    heavenly  principle! 
thou  fweet  bond  of  union  in  all  holy  fouls  ! — May 
our  hearts  feci  thy  divine  power,  thy  fweet  confo- 
lations  I 

What  remains  but  to  urge  all  that  hear  me,  to 
tcmbrace  a  religion  fo  benevolent  and  mild,  fo  glo- 
rious and  full  of  facred  pleafures  ?  You,  in  this, 
are  only  urged  to  what  is  your  befr  good,  and  high- 
efl  honor,  to  what  is  reafonable  and  fit  in  itfelf. 
Religion,  believe  me,  doth  not  confift  in  wild  im- 
pulfes  upon  the  foul ;  not  in  dreams  and  vilions — 
not  in  cold  and  heartlefs  oblervances — not  in  mere 
external  conformity  to  the  laws  of  God — not  in 
rites  and  names — not  in  profeilions  and  forms,  but 
in  rightcoufnefs  and  truth — in  meeknefs  and  good^ 


PERKINS.  373 

ncfs — In  charity  and  faith — in  purity  of  heart  and 
piety  of  life — in  a  holy  principle  of  adtion  and  the 
purefl  moral  virtue.  Againfl  a  religion  of  this 
kind,  who  can  objed?  Him,  who  would  wifh  to  ba- 
nilh  fuch  a  religion  from  the  world,  we  are  obliged 
to  look  upon  as  hoftile  to  human  happinefs,  as  -a 
foe  to  the  higheft  ornament  and  dignity  of  fociety. 
J3y  a  melodious  voice  doth  this  religion  call  upon 
us  all,  to  yield  ourfelves  up  to  its  government  and 
laws.  Unto  you,  0  men,  I  call y  and  my  voice  is  to  the 
Jons  of  men.  0  ye  fimple  underftand  wifdom,  and  ye 
fools  be  ye  of  an  underftanding  heart.  Hear  for  I  zvill 
fpeak  of  excellent  things,  and  the  opening  of  my  lipsfhall 
be  right  things.  Where  the  happinefs  of  people^ 
jtheir  prefent  peace  and  future  felicity  is  concern- 
ed, warmth  of  addrefs  is  allowable,  is  necelTary. 
I  would  ailc  to  be  indulged  in  a  (hort  exhortation 
to  fmners,  to  repair  to  the  fon  of  God,  whofe yoke 
is  eafy  and  whofe  burden  is  light,  for  help  and  hope* 
Be  perfuadcd,  then,  to  embrace  the  offer  of  pardon- 
ing goodnefs— tafte  that  the  Lord  is  gracious — 
jgive  up  all  your  objedlions  againft  piety  and  vir- 
tue, and  all  your  excufes  for  continuing  any  lon- 
ger in  unbelief  and  impenitence.  Let  not  the  re- 
membrance of  your  fins  prevent  your,  immediately, 
feeking  for  mercy.  What  I  though  your  crimes 
be  of  the  decpeft  dye  and  enormous  magnitude: 
.though  innumerable  as  the  fand  on  the  fea  Ihore, 
and  aggravated  by  the  mod  uncommon  and  horrid 
<:ircum(lances,  yet  there  is  no  room  for  defpair — 
a  fountain  is  opened  for  Judah  and  Jerufalem  to 


374  PERKINS. 

waih  in,  from  fin  and  uncleannefs.  Chrid's  blood 
cleanfeth  from  all  fin.  He  is  a  Redeemer  mod 
eminently  fitted — a  Saviour  mofi:  pcrfedly  quali- 
fied to  fave  guilty  man,  the  vilefi:  not  excepted. 

Behold  him  fuffering — bleeding — expiring  on 
thecrofs.  Pardon  for  lofi:  finners  is  written  with 
pointed  fi:eel  and  fi:reaming  blood  on  his  pierced 
hands  and  feet.  The  double  flood  ifiliing  from 
his  wounded  fide  more  than  feals  the  dear-bought 
blefling.  The  handwriting  againll  us  is  nailed  to 
his  crofs,  and  blotted  out  with  his  precious  blood. 
His  open  arms  invite  finners  to  accept  of  falvation ; 
and  incircled  in  them,  they  will  find  a  fafe  and  de- 
lightful retreat — a  real  and  prefent  happinefs.  O 
linner!  on  the  wings  of  pleafing  hope,  fly  thither. 
By  all  that  is  near — that  is  dear — that  is  facred  to 
thee,  fly  from  eternal  death — lay  hold  on  eternal 
life,  ^ake^  fays  Chrifl:,  my  yoke  upon  you  and  learn  of 
me  for  lam  meek  and  lowly  in  heart ;  and  ye  /ball  find 
reft  unto  your  fouls.  For  my  yoke  is  eafy  and  my  bur-^ 
den  is  light.     Amen. 


:;<L\     ^.^     ►y- 

»  » 


'-:*:-    -j^ 

.'r-.        .•'*^. 


S    E    R  M   O    N      XX. 

DEATH  THE  CHRISTIAN'S  GAIN. 

B     Y 

THOMAS      REESE.      A.  M. 

Miniiler  of  a  Pre/byterlan  Congregation,  Salem,  South-Carolina. 


Philip,    i.    21. 

To  die  is  gain. 

TT  is  not  a  very  uncommon  thing  for  pious  peo- 
-^  pie,  and  efpecially  pious  minifters  who  are 
ufeful  in  the  church,  to  be  fometimes  in  fuch  a 
fituation,  that,  were  it  left  to  themfelves,  they 
-would  be  much  at  a  lofs  whether  to  choofe  life  or 
death.  This  appears  to  have  been  the  cafe  with 
the  apoftle  Paul,  when  he  penned  the  words 
of  the  text.  V/hen  he  conlldered  of  what 
great  importance  his  prefence  was  to  the 
church,  he  delired  to  continue  in  the  body  :  On 
the  other  hand,  when  he  looked  forward  and  took 
a  view  of  that  glory  and  immortality  to  which  he 
was  fully  perfuaded  death  would  open  him  a  paf- 
fage,  he  was  feized  with  an  ardent  defire  to  de- 
part, and  to  be  with  Chriih       This  conflidl  he 


376  REESE. 

exprcfles  in  the  23d  and  24th  verfes.  For  lam  in 
ajlrait  betwixt  two,  having  a  defire  to  depart  and  to 
he  with  Chrifiy  which  is  far  better  ;  neverlhelejs  to 
abide  in  the  fiejh  is  more  needful  for  you.  Under 
thefe  impreflions,  he  comforts  himfelf  with  a  full 
alTurancc  that,  whether  he  lived  or  died,  Chriit 
would  be  glorified  in  him.  Chrijl,  fays  he,  in  the 
clofe  of  verfe  20X.\\yfhall  he  magnified  in  mybody^whe- 
iher  it  be  by  life  or  death.  Fur  to  me  to  live^  is  Chrijl, 
and  to  die  is  gain.  My  motive  to  live,  is  the  fer- 
vice  of  Chrifl ;  he  is  the  fupreme  end  of  my  life ; 
for  his  honor  only,  I  defire  to  live ;  and  to  die  tor 
him,  I  count  my  greateft  gain. 

The  lingle  point  I  have  in  view,  in  difcourfing 
from  thefe  words,  is,  to  (hew  in  what  refpcds 
death  is  gain  to  the  true  Chriftian :  And, 

I.  In  the  firft  place,  death  is  gain  to  the  Chrif- 
tian,  becaufe  it  delivers  him  from  the  remains  of 
dm. 

It  is  not  the  defign  of  God,  that  the  Chriflian 
fliould  be  abfolutely  perfedl  in  the  prefent  life. — 
He  hath  refcrved  this  happinefs  for  the  ftate  be- 
yond the  grave.  The  relics  6f\a  corrupt  nr.tu re 
continue  in  the  beft  of  men,  \^hile  they  fojourn 
here  in  this  world.  Scripture,  and  experience 
both  confpire  to  evince  the  truth  of  this,  nere 
is  no  man  who  liveth  andfinncth  not.  In  many  ibiitgs 
we  all  offend.  Hey  who  faith  he  hath  no  fin,  is  a  liar. 
That  man  mud  be  blind  indeed,  a  great  Granger 
to  his  own  heart,  and  to  the  purity,  extent,  and 


REESE.  377 

fpirituality  of  God's  law,  who  thinks  himfelf  per- 
fe(5lly  free  from  all  fin.  Such  perfons  plainly  dif- 
cover  that  they  are  impofed  upon  by  the  deceit- 
fulnefs  of  their  own  hearts ;  and  are  fo  far  from 
full  perfcdion,  that  they  have  not  reached  evea 
the  lowed  degree  of  it.  Every  good  man  is  actu- 
ated by  two  different  and  oppofite  principles ;  a 
principle  offm,  and  a  principle  of  grace.  The 
fiejij  luftelh  againft  the  fpirit,  and  the  fpirit  againft  the 
fiejh  ;  and  ihefe  tzvo  are  contrary  the  one  to  the  other,, 
And  though  the  principle  of  holincfs  predomin- 
ates in  every  good  man,  he  is,  notwithftanding,  li- 
able to  fall  into  fin,  through  the  remains  of  the 
old  man,  which  are  never  wholly  eradicated  in  the 
prefent  (late.  Thefe  two  warring  principles  pro- 
duce a  continual  confiid:  in  the  Chriftian,  which 
lafts  during  life.  Hence  the  Chriflian  life  is,  in 
fcripture,  frequently  compared  to  a  fight,  and  a 
race ;  things  which  require  the  moft  llrenuous  ef- 
forts. I  have  fought  the  good  fi^ot^  faith  the  apoftle 
Paul,  I  have  fini/hed  my  courfey  henceforth  there  is 
laid  up  for  me  a  croivnof  life.  Now,  there  is  no- 
thing which  gives  the  true  Chriftian  fuch  real  and 
deep  concern,  fuch  continual  forrow,  as  the  re-^ 
mains  of  fin  which  dwell  within  him.  There  is 
nothing  from  which  he  fo  ardently,  and  uniform- 
ly deiires  to  be  delivered.  Thefe  are  the  great 
burden  and  forrow  of  his  life.  How  does  it  pierce 
a  good  man  to  the  heart,  when  he  reflecfls  upon  hts 
folly  and  ingratitude,  in  provoking  his  heavenly 
father,  in  yielding  to  the  temptations  of  fatan, 

A3 


378  REESE. 

wounding  his  own  confcicnce,  and  grieving  the 
holy  fpirit  1    He  deeply  feels  the  obligations  he 
is  under  to  his  Redeemer,  and  bitterly  laments 
that  he  fo  often  falls  into  fin,  and  violates  the  mofl: 
tender  and  endearing  ties.     Hear  how  pafTionate- 
ly  the  apoflle  Paul  cries  out  under  the  burden  of 
in-dwelling  fin. — 0  wretched  man  that  I  am^zvho 
jhall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death  !    Death 
.   is,  therefore,  great  gain  to  the   Chrifiian,  becaufe 
it  delivers  him  from  that  burden,  of  which  the  a- 
poftle  fo  eminent  in  holinefs,  here  complains. — 
After  death  the  Chriftian's  conflict  is  at  an  end  ; 
all  his  dangers  are  over ;  all  his  toils  paft.     He  is 
then  freed,  fully  and  completely  freed,   from  all 
the  remains  of  fm,  which  gave  him  fo  much  pain 
and  forrow  while  he  continued  in  the  body.     All 
his  lufts  are  fubdued,  all  his  enemies  conquered. 
He  has  no  longer  any  need  to  toil  and  labor,  to 
run  and  fight.     Satan  can  no  longer  tempt ;  the 
world  can  no  longer  allure,  nor  his  unruly  paflions 
hurry  him   into  lin.     His  vidlory  is  decifive,  his  . 
triumph  complete.     That   the   Chriftian  will  be 
made  completely  holy  after  death,  is  a  plain  doc- 
trine of  fcripture.     The  apoftle  Paul,  fpeaking  of 
the  faints  in  Heaven,  calls  them  the  fpirits  ofjuji 
vien  made  pyfeFl,     The  word  of  God  teaches  us 
to  believe,  that  the  righteous  after  death  will  be 
completely  happy.     But  this  would  be  impoiTible, 
were  they  not  delivered  from  all  the   remains  of 
fm.     As   it  is  natural  for  them,  above  all  other 
things,  to  dcfirc  fuch  deliverance,  fliould  they  not 


REESE.  379 

obtain  it,  there  would  be  a  flrong  defire  unfatisfi- 
cd,  which  is  inconfiftent  with  perfedl  happinefs. 
Bcfidcs,  it  is  inconfiftent  with  the  perfeclions  of 
God  to  admit  creatures  into  Heaven  who  are  pol- 
luted with  fin.     Nothing  unclean  can  enter  there.    It 
is  plain,  then,  that  the  Chriftian,  at  death,  will  be 
delivered  from  all  the  relics  of  fin,  which  remain 
in  him  while  he  fojourns  here  below.  And,  as  thefe 
are  the  fource  of  his  greateft  trouble  and  uneafi- 
nefs  in  the  prefcnt  life,  and  the  principal  burden  of 
his  foiil,  death  miift  be  to  him  unfpeakablc  gain. 

II.  Death  is  gain  to  the  Chriftian,  becaufe  it 
delivers  him  from  all  thofe  natural  evils  and  ca- 
lamities, which  are  the  confequence  of  fin,  in  the 
prefent  life. 

That  the  righteous  are  not  exempted  from  the 
common  miferies  and  calamities  of  human  life,  is 
too  plain  to  need  any  proof.     The  righteous  gov- 
ernor of  the  world,  feems  generally  to  diftribute 
thefe  with  a  promifcuous  hand.     All  things  come 
alike  to  ally  and  there  is  no  knozving  good  or  evil  by  any 
thing  that  is  Jeen  under  the  fun.     In  this  world  the 
righteous  are  blended  with  the  wicked,  and  fuffer 
with  them.     Indeed  if  we  carefully  attend  to  the 
fcripturc-hiftory,  and   diligently  obfcrve  the  dif- 
penfations  of  providence,  wc  ihall,  perhaps,  find 
fufHcient  reafon   to  conclude,  that  the   greateft 
portion  of  fuftering  is  commonly    thrown  into 
the  cup  of  the  righteous.     Be  this  as  it  may,  cer- 
tain it  is,  that  the  bcft  men  in  the  vvorld  arc  fub- 


3So  REESE. 

jed  to  many  evils,  and   often  in  fuch  a  fituation, 
that  they  may  truly  fay  with   the  apoftle — If  in 
this  life  only,  we  have  hope  in  Cbr/JJ,  we  are  of  all  men 
inofl  miferable.     Whilft  Chriliians  fojourn  in  this 
valley  of  tears,  they  are  fubjed  to  many  didreff- 
ing  and  painful  difeafes.     ^beir  bones  are  chajiif- 
ed  with  painy  and  the  multitude  of  their  bones  zvitb 
JtYongpain,     They  are  inade  to  foffefs  months  ofvani^ 
tyy  and  wearifome  nights  are  appointed  unto  them. — 
Their  (Irength  and  their  beauty  are  confumed  by 
ficknefs ;  and  they  are  frequently  brought  to  the 
gates  of  death.     They  fuffer  not  only  pain  of  bo- 
dy, but  much  trouble  and  anxiety  of  mind.     Ma- 
ny are  the  loffes  and  difappointments,  many  the 
afflictive  and  bereaving  ftrokes  to  which  they  are 
liable :  And  they  mufi:  be  fomething  more  than 
human,  and  di veiled  of  the  common  feelings  of 
men,  not  to  fuiF'er  under  them.     They  fuffer  in 
themfelves,  and  they  fuffer  in  others  by  fympathy. 
As  they  have,  generally,  tender  and  companionate 
hearts,  they  cannot  but  be  greatly  a  ffedcd  with  the 
miferics  and  didrcffes  of  their  fcllow-mcn.    The 
hufband  fuffers  in  the  wife,  and  the  wife  in  the 
liulband  ;  the  parent  in  the  child,  and  the  child 
in  the  parent ;  friend  fuffers  in  friend,  and  one  re- 
lation in  another.    Add  to  all  thcfc  evils,  the  grief 
and  forrow  w  hich  arife  from  feeing  and  hearing 
the  abominable  deeds  and  hithy  converfation  of 
the  wicked.  The  apofHc  Peter  tells  us,  that  right- 
eous   Lot  vexed  his  foul  from  day  to  day,  with 
the  unlawful  deeds  and  filthy  converfation  of  the 


REESE.  381 

wicked  in  Sodom.  It  cannot  but  give  a  good 
ftian  great  concern  to  fee  vice  abounding,  iniqui- 
ty prevailing,  impiety  triumphing,  and  like  a 
mighty  torrent,  ready  to  bear  down  all  before 
them.  The  honor  of  the  Redeemer  is  dear  to  ev- 
ery Chriflian  ;  his  kingdom  and  intereft  in  the 
world,  lie  near  his  heart ;  he  loves  the  fouls  of  his 
fellow-immortals,  and  wifhes  to  promote  their  e- 
ternal  falvation.  This  being  the  temper  of  every 
true  Chriftian,  it  muft  affecl  him  deeply,  and  fill 
him  with  unfpeakable  forrow,  to  fee  God  provok- 
ed, his  holy  name  blafphemed,  the  Redeemer  difl 
honored,  his  grace  defpifed,  his  mercy  abufed, 
and  all  religion  turned  into  contempt  and  ridi- 
cule. For  thefe  things  his  tears  flow,  and  h\s  foul 
weeps  in  feeret  places.  He  fees  thou fands  of  pre- 
cious, immortal  fouls,  running  on  in  the  broad 
way  which  leads  unerring  to  the  abodes  of  death. 
He  is  fully  fenfible  of  their  danger,  and  forefees 
the  mifery  which  awaits  them,  if  they  perfift  in 
their  impiety  and  rebellion.  This  excites  the  moft 
painful  fenfations,  and  fills  him  with  the  deepefi 
regret. 

But  why  fhould  I  attempt  a  catalogue  of  the  va- 
rious evils  and  calamities,  to  which  the  Chriflian 
is  fubjed,  in  the  prefent  life  ?  They  are  innumera- 
ble, and  many  of  them  terrible  beyond  all  defcrip- 
tion.  From  all  thefe,  death  will  deliver  him ;  and 
therefore  to  die,  mufl:  be  his  gain.  It  puts  a  final 
period  to  all  his  afflictions  and  miferics,  to  all  his 
forrows  and  fuifcrings.     In  thofe  blefTcd  manfions 


382  R    E'E    S    E. 

to  which  he  fliall  be  admitted  after  death,  there 
Will  be  nothing  to  give  him  any  trouble  or  uneafi- 
nefs,  nothing  to  dil^urb  his  peace,  or  break  his  e- 
tcnial  repofe.  There  he  fhail  reft  from  his  labors, 
and  be  freed  from  all  diilrefs  and  tribulation.  In 
that  blefied  ftate,  he  fnall  no  longer  be  fubjedl  to 
pain,  ficknefs  or  difeafe  :  for  tliere,  the  inhabitant 
Jhall  notJay\  I  amfick  ;  and  the  people  Jh  all  be  forgiven 
their  iniquity.  The  bodies  of  the,  righteous  Ihall, 
at  their  refurredlion,  be  purged  from  all  the  feeds 
of  difeafe  and  diflolution,  and  made  fpiritual,  in- 
corruptible, and  immortal.  This  corruptible  jhall 
put  on  incorriiptioUy  and  this  mortal  Jhall  put  on  immor^ 
taliiy^  and  death  Jhall  be  fivallozved  up  in  victory, 
Thefe  vile  bodies  will  then  be  glorious  bodies,  and 
flourifti  in  eternal  health,  immortal  vigor,  and  un~ 
decaying  beauty.  Death  makes  a  complete  fepa- 
ration  between  the  righteous  and  the  wicked. 
There  the  zvicked  ceafe  from  troubling.  They  ceafe 
to  perfecute  and  opprefs  the  righteous,  to  vex  and 
grieve  them  by  their  profane  converfation  and  im- 
pious deeds.  In  a  word,  the  Chriftian,  by  death, 
is  perfedlly  freed  from  all  thofe  evils  and  calami- 
ties which  were  introduced  into  the  world  by  iin, 
and,  therefore,  to  him  it  muft  be  immenfe  gain. 
()  what  a  happy  exchange  does  the  poor,  afflidled, 
pcrfecuted  Chriftian  make,  when  relcafed  from  his 
houfe  of  clay  !  from  ficknefs  to  health,  from  pain 
to  plcafure,  from  trouble  to  reft,  from  war  to  peace, 
from  grief  and  forrow  to  endlefs  joy  and  ineftable 
delight!  from  bondage  to  freedom,  from  an  earth- 


R'  E     E    S    E.  2^ 

ly  cottage  to  a  heavenly  palace,  from  a  howling 
wildernefs  to  a  blooming  paradife  from  a  prifon 
to  a  kingdom,  from  a  crofs  to  a  crown!  Welcomx, 
thrice  welcome  death,  the  end  of  forrows,  and  the 
beginning  of  joys  I 

III.  Death  introduces  the  Chridlan  into  a  much 
more  noble,  excellent  and  happy  fociety,  than  he 
can  poflibly  enjoy  here  in  this  world  ;  and  on  this 
account,  is  to  him  unfpeakable  gain. 

After  death,  the  Chriftian  fliall  dwell  with  God 
and  Chrift,  and  be  the  companion  of  Angels,  and 
thtfpirits  of  jufi  men  made  'per fecf.     In  the  prcfent 
life,  the  righteous  are  frequently  obliged  to  aflbci- 
ate  with  the  wicked,  and  their  company  and  con- 
verfation  cannot  but  be  difagreeable  to  them.  They 
can  have  no  true  pleafure  or  fatisfaclion  in  the  foci- 
ety of  loofe,  profane,  and  irreligious  men.  But  it  is 
their  duty,  and  their  neceffary  bufincfs  fomctimcs 
requires  them,  to  mingle  in  the  alfembles  of  the 
wicked.     This  cannot  be  avoided  while  they  are 
connected  with  them  in  a  ftatc  of  civil  focictyl 
And  though  they  always  prefer  the  fociety  of  fober 
and   godly  men,  the  excellent  ones  of  the  earth  in 
whom  is  all  their  delight ;  yet  even  among  thefe, 
they  often  find  fuch  a  mixture  of  fin  or  infirmity, 
of  paiFion  or  prejudice,  as  renders  their  converfa- 
tion  not  only  imperfe(fl:,  but  fometimes  very  difa- 
greeable.     It  is  as  true  as  it  is  lamentable,  that 
even  good  men,  in  this  world,  do  not  always  live 
in  that  peace  and  harmony  w  hich  religion  requires; 


3^4  REESE. 

and  which  is  ncceflary  to  their  own  comfort  atid 
happincfs.  How  indeed  can  it  be  otherwife  in 
this  (late  of  imperfection,  ignorance  and  error?  In 
fuch  a  fbate,  men  will  always  be  liable  to  differ  in 
their  fentiments.  This  feldom  fails  to  produce 
oppofition  and  contradidion,  which  naturally  tend 
to  inflame  the  paflions  and  excite  animofities  a- 
mong  weak,  imperfed:  and  finful  men.  The  Apof- 
tles  Paul  and  Peter  were  both  excellent  and  holy 
men,  yet  we  find  they  did  not  always  agree;  and 
the  contention  was  once  fo  fliarp  between  Paul  and 
Barnabas,  that  they  parted  not  on  very  friendly 
terms.  And  this  is  too  often  the  cafe  with  great 
and  good  men ;  and  greatly  diminiflies  the  hap- 
pinefs  which  they  might  otherwife  enjoy  from  the 
company  and  converfation  of  each  other  in  this 
Jtvorld.  But  death  will  put  an  end  to  all  thofc 
things  which  deprive  us  of  that  full  fatisfadlion  and 
inexprcllible  delight,  which  fociety  is  capable  of 
affording  to  fuch  creatures  as  we  are.  After  death, 
the  righteous  Hiall  be  for  ever  feparated  from  the 
wicked,  and  no  longer  obliged  to  affociate  with 
them;  confequcntly,  they  fliall  be  completely  de- 
livered from  all  that  grief  and  vexation  of  fpirit, 
of  which  their  wickednefs  was  the  occafion.  In 
the  ftate beyond  the  grave,  Chriftians  fhall  be  purg- 
ed from  all  fin  and  impcrfedion  of  every  kind ; 
and  confequently  fitted  both  to  receive  and  com- 
municate the  moft  fublime  and  exquifite  focial 
pleafures.  Death  will  introduce  them  to  the  moft 
intimate  communion  dLV\difellozv/hif>  wilb  the  Father ^ 


REESE.  385 

wtd  zvilb  his  Son  Je/iis  ChrlJ}.  In  this  v/orld,  their 
communion  with  God  is  imperfed:  and  interrupt- 
ed ;  but  in  the  world  of  fpirits,  it  will  be  perfect 
and  uninterrupted.  There  they  will  no  longer  fee 
ihroiigh  a  glajs  darkly  ^  hut  faee  to  face.  God  will  no 
inore  hide  his  face  from  them,  and  fulFcr  them  to 
v/alk  in  darknefs :  they  iliall  for  ever  dwell  in  his 
prefcnce  where  there  is  fiilnefs  of  joy  and  pleafiires  for 
•ever  more.  All  thofe  dark  clouds,  w^hich  interrupt- 
ed their  view  in  the  prefent  imperfedl  ftate,  fhall 
be  diilipated  ,-  and  they  fhall  behold  the  Deity  in 
full  unclouded  fplendor.  There  they  fliall  con- 
verfe  familiarly  with  the  Father  of  Spirits,  the 
fountain  of  life  and  light,  the  fource  of  perfedtioii 
and  felicity.  In  thy  light  fhall  we  fee  light.  Their 
viiion  is  complete,  their  fruition  full.  There  too 
they  fhall  fee,  and  for  ever  dwell  with  the  Lord 
Jefus  Chrifl,  whom  having  not  {^txv  they  loved. 
They  fhall  be  admitted  to  the  moft  intimate  com- 
munion with  him  who  died  for  them,  and  wafhed 
them  in  his  own  precious  blood.  They  fhall 
lit  down  with  him  on  the  right  hand  of  his  Father, 
where  he  fhines  encircled  v/ith  inefiable  glory,  for 
ever  behold  his  mild  majeflic  countenance,  beam- 
ing with  divine  love  and  compaflion,  and  drink  in 
**  beatitude  paft  utterance, "^^  from  his  prefence. 
They  fhall  fee  him  as  he  is,  be  eternally  tranfport- 
ed  with  his  love,  and  changed  into  the  fame  image 
from  glory  to  glory.  Then  will  that  prayer  of  our 
Saviour  be  anfwered  :  Father  I  will  that  they  alfo 
whom  thou  haft  given  me  be  where  I  am,  that  they  may 
'  hehold  my  glorv. 

B3 


386  REESE. 

But  further.  The  Chridian,  after  death,  iliall  be 
admitted  into  the  bklTed  fociety  of  Angels.  Thofe 
glorious  and  happy  fpirits  will  be  his  companions. 
They  will  welcome  him  to  the  realms  of  light  and 
glory  ;  and  without  envy  admit  him  to  partake  of 
their  honors,  and  fliare  in  their  felicity.  The 
i-ighteous  fhall  mingle  with  thofe  morning  flars, 
fhine  with  them,  and  with  them  fliout  aloud  for 
joy.  They  fliall  hold  high  converfe  with  thofe 
fons  of  God;  and  with  them  contemplate  the 
wonders  of  redeeming  love.  With  them  they  fliall 
rejoice,  and  with  them  adore. 

The  fpirits  of  jufl  men  m.ade  perfedl,  will  alfo 
be  the  companions  of  the  Chriftian  in  a  future 
ftate.  When  he  dies,  he  Ihall  be  taken  to  the gene^ 
ral  ajjemhly  of  the  firjj-borny  whofe  names  are  written 
in  Heaven.  There,  my  brethren,  if  you  die  the 
death  of  the  righteous  and  your  lafi  end  he  like  hisy  you 
will  not  only  fee  and  converfe  with  all  thofe,  who 
are  now  your  companions  in  tribulation ;  but  with 
all  the  good  men,  who  have  lived  in  the  ditferent 
ages  of  the  world.  There,  in  that  happy  country  to 
which  you  will  be  tranflated  by  death,  you  fhall 
converfe  with  all  the  Patriarchs  and  holy  men  of 
old.  There  you  lliall  be  the  companions  of  Ifaiah, 
Jeremiah,  and  all  the  holy  Prophets,  of  whom  this 
world  was  not  worthy.  There  you  fhall  fee  the 
harbinger  of  your  Redeemer,  who  w-as  a  burning 
and  a  fhining  light  in  this  world;  but  who  glows 
with  an  intenfcr  flame,  and  fliincs  with  a  brighter 
light  in  the  world  above.     There  you  {hall  form 


REESE.  387 

one  focicty  with  the  twelve  Apoflles,  who  Tnine 
like  the  fun  in  the  kingdom  of  their  Father.  Ther? 
you  fhall  fee  Peter  who  denied  his  mailer,  but  af- 
terwards fuffered  for  him,  raifed  from  an  ignomi- 
nious crofs  to  a  bright  eternal  crown.  There  yoi^ 
fliall  behold  the  beloved  Difciple  feafling  his  eyc3 
with  the  viiion  of  his  much  loved  and  loving  Lord, 
He  burns  with  the  ardor  of  a  Seraph,  and  is  fvvalr 
lowed  up  in  the  heavenly  flame.  There  too,  you 
fnall  fee  the  apoflle  Paul,  who  of  a  perfecutvor  be- 
came a  preacher,  enjoying  the  full  reward  of  all  his 
Jabors  and  fulicrings,  and  confirming  the  truth  of 
his  alTertion  in  the  text — To  me  to  live  is  Chrijly,  and 
io  die  is  gain.  WQfotighl  the  good  fight ,  he  finijhed  hts  ■ 
courfe,  and  now  a  never-fading  crown  of  glory 
flouriflies  upon  his  head.  In  thofe  bright  regions, 
you  fhall  fee  the  glorious  army  of  martyrs,  whp 
were  JIain  for  the  zvord  of  God  and  theJefirnony  ofje^ 
Jus,  clothed  in  white  robes,  with  crowns  of  gold 
upon  their  heads,  and  palms  of  vidory  in  their 
hands.  Thefe  are  they  who  came  out  of  great  irihula- 
iioUy  and  have  zvq//jed  their  rohes  and  made  them  zvhite 
in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  O  my  brethren,  vv'hat  un- 
{peakable  happinefs  mufl:  it  be,  to  be  admitted  in- 
to fuch  a  fociety !  What  exquilite  happinefs  do 
good  and  wife  men  enjoy,  from  the  fociety  of  each 
other,  even  here  upon  earth,  when  they  are  united 
in  the  bands  of  friendihip,  and  have  only  an  im- 
perfed  fimilarity  of  tempers,  difpofirions,  and  ^Qn^ 
timents !  With  what  ardor  do  they  embrace  each 
other !  How  do  their  features  lighten  up,  when 


33S  R    E    E    S     E. 

they  meet,  and  their  fouls  fpring  forward,  as  it 
uere,  to  falute  each  other!  What  a  feafl:  of  love 
and  joy  do  then-  prefence  and  difcourfcs  afford  ! 
How  much  happinefs  do  they  give,  how  much  re- 
ceive !   How  do  they   entertain,    how   do   they 
pleafe  and  inllrud:  each  other  !   What  fwcet  coun- 
fel  do  they   take  together!    Now,   if  the  com- 
pany   and   converfation    of  pious    friends,  upon 
earth,  can  afford  fo  much  delight  and  mutual  fa- 
tisfacllon,  how  great  beyond  all  expreilion  mud  be 
the  felicity  of  the  blelfed  company  above  !  In  that 
happy  fociety,  an  entire  onenefs  of  heart  reigns. 
They  are  all  united  in  the  mod  perfed:  concord, 
the  fweeetfi:  love  and  harmony.    Their  fentiments 
are  all  one,  their  affections  one,  their  joys  one. 
There  is  a  perfect  fimilarity  of  tempers,  difpoliti- 
ons  and  inclination.  That  celellial  flame,  in  which 
they  all  glow,  melts  and  mixes  their  fouls  into  an 
entire  union.     Every  one  fnares  in  the  felicity, 
and  adds  to  it.     The  happinefs  of  all  is  the  hap- 
pinefs of  every  one,  and  the  happinefs   of  every 
one  the  happinefs  of  all.     This  fcems   to  be  the 
import  of  our  Saviour's  prayer,  ^hat  they  may  be  all 
one  as  thou  Father  art  in  vie,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they 
may  be  one  in  us.     It  is  faid  of  the  primitive  Chrif- 
tians  at  Jerufalem,  that  they  v/ere  all  of  one  heart 
and  of  one  foul.     But  how  much  more  clofe  and 
intimate  is  the  union  of  the  faints  in  the  heavenly 
■Jerufalem,  where  every  one  loves  another  as  him- 
{"^[(1  Hiliorians  relate,  that  as  Alexander  entered 
the  pavilion  of  the  mother  of  Darius,  with  Hephef- 


R    E    E    S    E.  38^ 

tioii  his  friend  and  favorite,  flic  kneeled  to  the  lat- 
ter, as  being  the  more  majeftic  of  the  two;  but 
being  informed  of  her  error,  fhe  humbly  ailced 
pardon.  To  whom  Alexander  replied,  *' You  did 
not  miftake  mother,  for  this  too,  is  Akxander/' 
This  is  but  a  faint  image  of  that  endearing  friend- 
fhip  and  tranfcendent  love  which  reigns  in  the 
hearts  of  the  blelTed  in  Heaven.  How  ravifning 
muft  be  the  converfation  of  fuch  friends!  how 
fweet  their  intercourfe !  With  what  rapture  do  they 
pour  out  their  hearts  to  each  other,  and  converfe 
of  the  works  and  ways  of  God !  With  what  de- 
lightful admiration  do  they  recount  the  ineilima- 
ble  blefiings  they  mutually  enjoy  I  With  whai 
tranfport  do  they  adore,  with  what  extacy  do  they 
join,  in  celebrating  the  wonders  of  redeeming  love ! 
O  happy  company !  O  blelTed  fociety  1  may  the 
Chriftian  fliy,  when  (liail  I  mingle  in  your  alTembly  ? 
When  iliall  I  be  delivered  from  this  prifon  of  clay, 
burn  in  your  flames,  and  join  in  your  fongs  ? 

If  Socrates,  a  heathen,  could  comfort  himfelf  be- 
fore his  death,  with  the  hope  that  he  was  going  to 
converfe  with  Homer,  Heliod,  and  other  heroes 
and  fages  of  antiquity;  lliould  not  the  Chrifiian 
much  more  rejoice  at  the  approach  of  death,  which 
tranflates  him  to  the  fociety  and  coaverfation  ot 
the  bleiTed  in  Heaven  ?  What  abundant  confolati- 
on  lliould  it  afford,  that  in  the  ftate  beyond  the 
grave  he  will  be  brought  to  an  innmnerahle  company  of 
mgelsy  to  the  general  ajjembly  of  the  church  ofthefr/U 
.  -born^  whofe  names  are  zvritten  in  Heaven^  and  to  God 


/ 


s 


/ 


/ 


390  REESE. 

the  judge  of  all ,  and  to  thejpirits  ofjujf  men  made  per '■- 
fefi^  and  to  Jefus  the  mediator  of  the  nezv  covenant  ? 

With  fuch  bright  and  glorious  profpedls  before 
him,  how  can  he  not  reckon  death  immenfe  and 
unfpeakable  gain?  And  how  truly  may  he  adopt 
the  language  of  the  apoftle  in  the  text,  Tb  rae  to 

live  is  Chrlfty  and  to  die  is  gain  ? 

IV.  The  employments  of  the  Chriflian  after 
death  will  be  much  more  noble  and  excellent,  than 
they  are  in  the  prefent  life;  and  therefore,  to  die, 
is  to  him  gain. 

While  the  Chriflian  is  in  his  ftate  of  pilgrimage 
here  upon  earth,  a  great  part  of  his  time  is  com- 
monly employed  about  things  of  a  temjporal  na- 
ture. While  he  is  in  the  body,  it  is  his  duty  to 
provide  for  the  body;  and  this  engrofTes  much  of 
his  time  and  thoughts.  This  obliges  him  often  to 
be  engaged  in  matters  which  are  very  difagreeable 
to  him,  though  neceiTary  in  his  prefent  circum- 
flances.  Care  and  anxiety  about  the  things  of  the 
prefent  life,  too  frequently  break  in  upon  him  and 
difiurb  his  peace.  Even  the  fmall  portion  o^i  his 
time  which  he  devotes  to  the  performance  of  reli^ 
gious  duties,  is  but  feldom  fpent  in  a  manner  en- 
tirely to  hiij  fatisfadion.  His  beft  religious  per- 
formances are  very  imperfecl:,  and  mingled  with 
lin.  The  world  often  intrudes ;  fenfible  objeds 
prefs  upon  him,  and  draw  off  his  mind  from  the 
work  in  which  he  is  engaged.  His  heart  often 
wanders,  and  his  thoughts  liart  alide  from  thofc 


REESE.  391 

important  fpiritual  objedls  on  which  they  ought 
to  be  fixed.  He  finds  great  rcafbn  to  lament  his 
coldnefs,  deadnefs  and  formality  in  the  worfhip  of 
God.  It  is  but  feldorn  he  feels  that  flow  of  affec- 
tion, that  fire  of  love,  that  life,  that  vigor,  in  the 
fervice  of  his  God  which  he  Co  carnefcly  deiires. 
The  praifes  of  his  redeemier  often  dwell  upon  his 
tongue,  when  he  has  no  deep  penetrating  icnk  of 
his  love,  and  feels  but  little  of  the  heavenly  flame 
in  his  heart.  And  when  he  looks  back  and  refiedls 
upon  the  time  fpent  in  the  worlhip  of  God,  he 
finds  many  deficiencies,  and  fees  abundant  caufc 
of  forrovv  and  -  regret,  of  iliame  and  confufion  of 
face.  But  after  death,  it  will  not  be  fo.  The 
whole  of  his  time  will  then  be  employed  in  the 
immediate  worlhip  and  fervice  of  God.  This  will 
be  his  fole  Vv'ork ;  and  it  will  be  performed  in  fuch 
a  manner  as  to  yield  him  the  higheft  fatisfadion, 
the  mod  fublime  pleafure.  He  fhall  no  longer 
experience  the  leaft  fin  or  impsrfedlion  in  his  duty. 
He  fhall  be  like  a  flame  of  fire,  all  activity,  life  and 
love,  in  the  fervice  of  God.  There  will  then  be 
nothing  to  call  ofl' his  mind  from  the  divine  work 
in  which  he  fhall  be  employed. — No  earthly 
thoughts — no  worldly  cares— no  carnal  objedls. 
He  will  then  have  all  thofe  difpofitions  and  affec- 
tions in  their  higheft  perfedlion,  which  God  re- 
quires, and  which  are  necelfary  for  performing  his 
work  in  the  moft  perfect  and  acceptable  manner. 
In  Heaven  the  faints  futfer  no  interruption  in  their 
Sweet  employment.     Ibeyjlandkforc  the  throne  of 


392  REESE. 

Gody  and  worjhip  him   day  and  night  in  his  temple. 
They  ceafe  not  day  nor  nighty  crying  holy,  holy^  holy 
Lord  God  Almighty  !    The  glorious  perfeciions  of 
Ood  difplayed  in  his  works  of  nature  and  of  grace, 
are  the  fubjcdt;  of  their  uncealing  contemplation, 
and  moft  profound  admiration.     They  continual- 
ly celebrate,  and  continually  adore  the  ftupendous 
plan  of  redemption,  where  all  the  divine  attributes 
fo  beautifully  harmonize,  and  Ihine  with  fuch  un- 
paralleled luftre.     The  wonders  of  rich,  freehand 
•fovereign  grace  in  the  falvation  of  linners,  the  im- 
menfe,  unfathomable  love,  of  a  bleeding,  dying. 
Saviour,  are  their  eterxial  theme.     The  angels  dejire 
to  look  into  thefe  things, — The  rapt  Seraph  adores  and 
burns;  and  the  glorious  company  of  there  deem- 
ed above,  (hall  with  rapture  celebrate  them  through 
eternal  ages.     The  entire  union,  and  perfed  con- 
cord of  thofe  blelTcd  fpirits,  in  the  work  of  praife, 
greatly  enhance  their  pleafure.  Among  the  count- 
lefs  millions  who  compofe  this  vail,  this  happy  af- 
fembly,  there  is  not  one  cold  heart,  one  dilfenting 
voice,  one  difcordant  note. 

"  Ten  thoufand  thoufand  are  their  tongues. 
But  all  their  joys  are  one." 

The  celeftial  flame  of  love,  like  ethereal  fire,  is 
communicated  from  heart  to  heart ;  the  heavenly 
harmony  catches  from  tongue  to  tongue ;  every 
heart  joins  with  every  tongue,  and  glory  to  God 
and  the  Lamb,  is  the  united,  repeated  acclama- 
tion.    Angclig  harps  ^nd  voices  join  the  hcaveo- 


REESE.  293 

ly  concert,  fvvcll  the  bold  and  folemn  note,  and 
complete  the  full  mufic  of  Heaven.  Loud  Hal- 
lelujahs crowd  every  fong,  and  anthems  of  ceafe- 
lefs  pralfe  tobim  who  loved  us  and  gave  him/elf  for  tis^ 
refouiid  through  all  the  heavenly  palaces. 

O  my  hearers,  could  we  only  hear  fome  faint 
touches  of  this  celeftial  harmony,  fome  imperfedl 
echos  of  thofe  fongs  which  faints  and  angels  fing, 
how  would  it  inflame  our  defires  to  join  in  that 
blelTed  work  1  BU^jfed  are  thejy  0  Lord,  who  dzvell  in 
thy  hotifey  ibey  will  he  fiill  fraifing  ihee.  If  fuch  are 
the  employments  of  the  Chriflian  after  death,  fo 
noble,  fo  excellent,  furely  death  muft  be  to  him 
exceeding  gain. 

We  fliall  now  conclude  with  a  few  brief  infer- 
ences from  the  fubjed:. 

I .  From  v/hat  hath  been  faid,  we  may  fee  how 
little  reafon  the  iincere  Chriflian  has  to  be  afraid 
of  death.  Death  is  indeed  dreadful  to  the  wick- 
ed. To  them  it  is  the  king  of  terrors;  it  is  the 
end  of  all  their  joys,  and  the  beginning  of  forrows. 
No  wonder  then  if  they  recoil,  and  horror  and  a- 
mazcment  fcize  upon  them  at  the  approach  of  the 
grim  tyrant.  But  to  the  righteous,  this  king  of 
terrors,  is  transformed  into  a  mefTenger  of  peace. 
He  comes  as  a  kind  angel  to  flrike  olf  his  fetters, 
unlock  the  doors  of  his  prifon,  and  condud  him 
home  to  his  father's  houfc.  The  day  of  his  death 
is  the  day  of  his  deliverance;  \\\q  day  of  his  birth, 
into  a  glorious,  an  ijTimortal  and  bleflcd  life.     It 

C   3 


394  REESE. 

is  his  great  pay-day, his  rich  harvefi",  when  he  reaps 
the  fruit  of  all  his  labors,  and  is  put  into  polTelTioa 
of  a  crown  which  fadeth  not  away,  a  kingdom 
which  fhall  never  have  an  end.  Why  then  O 
Chriftiansl  fhould  you  flirink  back  at  the  thoughts 
of  death,  which  to  you  is  fuch  unfpeakable  gain  ? 
The  fl"roke  may  be  rough  which  dafnes  into  pieces 
your  veflels  of  clay ;  the  valley  may  be  dark  and 
gloomy  through  which  you  muft  pafs  ;  but  it  will 
foon  open  to  you  a  bright  and  glorious  profpecfl, 
and  u(her  you  into  the  regions  of  light,  and  life, 
and  liberty.  Why  then  fliould  we  linger  about 
thefe  mortal  fiiores,  and  dread  to  crofs  the  cold 
fbream  v/hich  feparatesus  from  the  promifed  land? 
We  have  had  a  view  of  the  heavenly  Canaan  ;  the 
blooming  profped:  lies  before  us  ;  and  fhall  we  be 
backward  to  launch  away  and  take  polTeflion  ? 

'*  Sweet  fields  beyond  the  fwelling  flood. 
Stand  drefs'd  in  living  green  ; 
So  to  the  Jews  old  Canaan  flood. 
While  Jordan  roll'd  between." 

2.  Let  the  Chriflian  learn  patiently  to  fubmit  to 
the  will  of  God,  as  to  the  time  of  his  departure 
from  the  body. 

There  are  Chridians  who  fometimes  appear  im- 
patient of  life,  and  difcovcr  too  much  anxiety  to 
leave  this  mortal  ftagc.  Tired  of  their  confine- 
ment in  a  prifon  of  clay,  finking  under  a  load  of 
years,  and  prcfied  with  various  calamities,  they 
long  for  deliverance.    Having,  as  they  apprehend. 


REESE.  39S 

ccafcd  to  be  ufeful  here,  and  pointing  the  eye  of 
faith  to  that  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory, 
which  awaits  them  beyond  the  grave,  they  are  fo- 
licitoiis  to  quit  their  prcfent  llation,  to  depart  and 
be  with  Chrifl.  But  let  all  fuch  remember  how 
much  it  is  their  duty  to  fubmit  to  the  divine  dif- 
pofal,  and  with  patience  and  entire  reiignation, 
wait  their  appointed  time.  God's  time  is  the 
mod  proper  time.  He  has  wife  and  gracious  de- 
ligns,  in  continuing  his  fervants  here  in  this  valley 
of  tears;  though  they  may  not  be  always  able  to 
comprehend  them.  The  reward  which  he  has 
promifed  is  free  and  unmerited  ;  and  the  time  of 
conferring  it  ought  to  be  wholly  fubmittcd  to 
himfelf.  And  remember  for  your  confolation,  the 
period  is  not  far  didant  which  will  crown  all  your 
wiflies.  The  days  of  your  tribulation  will  foon 
have  an  end  ;  the  confiidt  cannot  lafl  long.  You 
will  foon  refl  from  your  labors,  in  the  fair  manfi- 
ons  on  high,  far  above  thofe  ftorms  which  toifed 
vou  here  on  the  troubled  ocean  of  life:  where  vour 
fun  fliall  no  more  go  down,  nor  your  moun  with- 
draw its  light;  and  the  days  of  your  conliicl  and 
mourning  fliall  for  ever  have  an  end. 

3.  Let-us  all  endeavor  fo  to  live,  that  to  die  m.ay 
be  our  gain.  Lei  vie  die  the  death  of  the  righteous, 
and  let  my  laft  end  be  like  his,  is  the  language  of  all 
who  believe  in  a  future  retribution.  All  wifh  to 
die  comfortably.  If  then  you  would  die  the  death 
of  the  righteous,  you  muft  live  his  life.  There  is 
nothing  more  abfurd,  more  repugnant  to  reafhn 


.39^  REESE, 

and  fcripturc,  than  for  men  to  imagine,  that  thejr 
may  live  all  their  days  under  the  power  and  do- 
minion  of  fin,  fcrving  divers  lads  and  paflions ; 
and  at  laft  receive  the  reward  of  the  righteous. 
Shall  not  the  judge  of  all  the  earth  do  rights  and  dif- 
criminate  between  his  friends  and  his  enemies, 
between  his  loyal  fubjedls  and  difalTe(fl:ed  rebels? 
Be  not  deceived,  my  beloved  brethren;  God  is  not 
mocked;  whatfoever  a  man  Joweth  thatfiall  he  reap. 
It  is  the  unalterable  decree  of  the  great  eternal ;  it 
is  the  voice  of  reafon  and  revelation,  that  without 
holincfs  no  man  /hall  fee  the  Lord,     Let  thefe  words 
be  deeply  engraven  on  each  of  our  hearts  ;  and  as 
we  defirc  to  be  happy  hereafter,  let  us  confecrate 
ourfelves  to  the  fervice  of  God  whilll  here.   Chrift 
came  into  the  world  not  to  fave  his  people  in  their 
fms ;  but  to  fave  them  from  their  fms.     Let  us 
then,  denying  all  ungodlincfs  and  worldly  lujis,  livefo^ 
herlyy  righteotijly ^  and  godly  in  this  prefent  world,-  look-- 
ingfor  that  blcffed  hope,  and  the  glorious  appearing  of 
the  great  God,  and  our  Saviour  Je/us  (.htijiy  who  gave 
himfclffor  us,  that  he  ynight  redeem  us  from  all  iniqui^ 
iy  and  purify  unto  himfelf  a  peculiar  people  zealous  of 
good  works. 


'Xnv.  END  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME- 


^•fe