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O PRINCETON. N. J. "CO

Presented by Mr Samuel Agnew of Philadelphia, Pa.

Agnrcv Coll. on Baptism, No.
V» 3

Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2011 with funding from

Princeton Theological Seminary Library

http://www.archive.org/details/baptistlibraryre03so

Baptist library:

REPUBLICATION OF

TANDARD BAPTIST WORKS.

EDITED BY

REV. OIIARLKS O. SOMMERS, Pa.^lor of the South Baptist Church, New York.
REV. WILLIAM R. WII,LTAMS, P(ixtor of thf. Amity Street Baptist Church, New York.
REV. LEVI L. HILL, Piuslor uf the Westkill Baptist Church, Lexington, Greene Co., N. Y.

VOLUME III.

STEREOTYPE EDITION.

PUBLISHED BY ROBERT H. HILL-

rR.VTTSVILLi:, GRF.KNF, CO., N. Y.
18 4 3.

Enf<>reJ accorUing to act of Congress, in the year ISO, by ROBERT II. HILL, Lu the Clerk's Otfice of tlio
Southern DUlrict of New York.

■ Rrr

CONTENTS OF VOLUME III.

FOSTER'S ESSAY ON DECISION
OF CHARACTER. By John Fos-
ter, - 1

LETTER I.

Examples of the Distress and Humiliation inci-
dent to an irresohuo Mind. Such a Mind can-
not be said to belong to itself. Manner in
which a Man of decisive Spirit deliberates, and
passes into action. Cffisar. Such a Spirit pre-
vents the Fretting away, in harrassing Alterca-
tions of Will, of the animated Feelings required
for sustaining the vigor of action. Averts im-
pertinent interference. Acquires, if free from
Harshness of manner, an undisputed and bene-
ficial Ascendency over Associates. Its last re-
course inflexible Pertinacity. Instance in a Man
on a Jury, ------ i

LETTER II.

Brief inquiry into the Constituents of this com-
manding Quality. Corporeal Constitution. Pos-
sibility, nevertheless, of a firm Mind in a feeble
Body. Confidence in a Man's own Judgment.
This is an uncommon Distinction. Picture of a
Man who wants it. This Confidence distinguish-
ed from Obstinacy. Partly founded on Experi-
ence. Takes a high Tone of Independence in
devising Schemes. Distressing Dilemmas 4

LETTER IIL

Energy of Feeling as necessary as Confidence of
Opinion. Conduct that results from their combi-
nation. Eflcct and Value of a Ruling Passion.
Groat Decision of Character invests even wick-
ed Beings with something which we are tempted
to admire. Satan. Zanga. A Spanish Assas
sin. Remarkable Example of this Quality in a
man who was a Prodigal and became poor, but
turned Mi^er and bet-ame rich. Howard. White
field. Christian Missionaries, - - 7

LETTER IV.

Courage a chief Constituent of the Character.
Effect of this in encountering Censure and Rid
icule. Almagro. Pizarro, and De Luques. De^
fiance of Danger. Luther. Daniel. Another
indispensable Requisite to Decision is the full
Agreement of all the Powers of the Mind. La-
dy Macbeth. Richard IIL Cromwell. AF
ther who bad the opportunity of saving one of
two Sons tl-om Death, - - r - 1]

LETTER V.

Formidable Power of !\Tischicf wliich this high
Quality gives to bad Men. Care required to

prevent its rendering good Men unconciliating
and overbcciring. Independence and overruling
Manner in Consultation. Lord Chatham. De-
cision cf Character not incompatible with Sen-
sibility and mild Manners. 13 ut probably the
majority of the most eminent Examples of it
deficient in the kinder Affections. King of
Prussia. Situations in which it may be an abso-
lute Duty to act in Opposition to the Promptings
of those Affections, - - - - 14

LETTER VL

Circumstances tending to consolidate this Char-
acter. Opposition. Desertion. Marius. Sa-
tan. Charles de Moor. Success has the same
Tendency. Caesar. Habit of associating with
Inferiors. Voluntary means of forming or con-
firming this Character. The Acquisition of per-
fect Knowledge in the Department in which we
are to act. The cultivation of a connected and
conclusive Manner of reasoning. The resolute
commencement of Action, in a Manner to com-
mit ourselves irretrievably. Ledyard. The
choice of a dignified Order of Concerns. The
approbation of Conscience. Yet melancholy to
consider how many of the most distinguished Pos-
sessors of the Quality have been wicked - IG

ORIGIN OF INFANT BAPTISM AND
COMMUNION. By Dj?. Chapin - 21

THE TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLI-
NESS. By Benjaiviin Keach, - 22

CHAPTER L

What True Godliness is. His Origin and Anti-
quity, 22

CHAPTER II.

The chief Enemies of Godliness, - - 25

CHAPTER III.

Godliness, having received a Commission to travel,
and visit the Children of Men, comes to a certain
Town on the Confines of Babylon, where Riches
dwelt. His Usage and Treatment there, 26

CHAPTER IV.

Godliness, in his Travels, came to a Cottage, where
dwelt one called Poverty, with whom he ear-
nestly desired to make his Abode, but was de-
nied Entertainment, - - . . 33

CHAPTER V.
Godliness applies to Youth, who pleads various

CONTENTS OF VOLUME III,

Excuses, and nt last utterly declines receiving
him at present, ----- 37

CHAPTER VI.

Godliness at the Door of Olu-Age; the Reasons
why he refused to entertain him. - - 39

CHAPTER VII.

True Godliness, after this, travelled towards the
city Jerusalem, near to which was a small vil-
lage called Religion, in which dwelt Mr. Legal-
ist, at whose door he knocked. The cause why
he did not entertain him, - - - 41

CHAPTER VIII.

Godliness encounters a Man of strange Counte-
nance, who it appears was an Antinomian, 43

CHAPTER IX.

Godliness came to Mr. Formalist's door, who bid
him very welcome ; but he suspecting his integ-
rity, and that he harbored divers grand enemies
of his, particularly one Hypocrisy, hesitated to
go in. How Hypocrisy came to be discovered.
Formalist at last refused to entertain True God-
liness, 43

CHAPTER X.

Godliness, travelling farther into the Town (called
Religion,) saw many People who had been great
professors, retiring from the town as fast as they
could. In the discourse he had with one of them
the nature and danger of Apostacy is descri-
bed, 46

CHAPTER XI.

iGodliness, coming to Thoughtful's house found
there his friend Consideration, whom he had a
long time sought for. The great opposition
Consideration met with, - - - 48

CHAPTER XII.

Thoughtful, though he had embraced Considera-
tion, and was resolved to receive Godliness into
hus house, is hindered by Old-Man, Wilful-Will,
Carnal Alieclions, and Apollyon. He is aided
by Laborious, but had not prevailed, had it not
been for another who came in to his assist-
ance, 54

CHAPTER XIII.

Thoughtful, meeting with his Friend Contentment,
and finding now nothing wanting in ord(>r to the
making of his l^ife sweet and comfortable, sung
Hallelujahs, Hymns of Praise and Thanksgiv-
ing to God and the Lamb, - - - 58

PART I.

DOCTRINAL DIFFICULTIES.
CHAPTER L

The Deitv of Chi-ist, ....

CHAPTER IL

DilTiculiics concerning the Love of God, - CO

CHAPTER III.

The Doctrine of Election,

CHAPTER IV.

Union to Christ, ----- 74

CHAPTER V.
Relation to God, 77

CHAPTER VI.

The Doctrine of Atonement, - - - 79

PART II.

EXPERIMENTAL DIFFICULTIES.

CHAPTER L

A Sinner's Warrant to apply to Christ, - 84

CHAPTER IL

Concerning the New Birth, - - - PO

CHAPTER III.

Concerning Spiritual Joys, - - - 91

CHAPTER IV.

Experience of Indwelling Sin, -

CHAPTER V.

Erroneous Views of Christian Doctrines,

CHAPTER VI.

Mysteries of Providence, - - -

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS:

BEING AN ATTEMPT TO REMOVE VARIOUS
STITMBUNG-BLOCKS OUT OF THE WAY RE-
LATING TO DOCTRINAL, EXPERIMENTAL
AND PRACTICAL RELIGION. By RoBEKT

Hall, GO

Introduction, - - . . ,

PART III.

PRACTICAL DIFFICULTIES.
CHAPTER 1.

Sins of Professors, - - - . -

CHAPTER n.

Enmity of the AVorld, - . . .

CHAPTER III.
CO 1 El rors of False Rcligionigts, - . -

100

103

CONTENTS OF VOLUME III.

THE DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE. By
Abraham Booth, - - - - 118

Introduction, .-.--• 118

SECTION I.

What law is it to which the apostle was dead, 119

SECTION IL

Unregenerate Sinners alive to the Law, as a Cov-
enant, 120

SECTION III.

Believers dead to the law, considered as a cove-
124

134

nant, ..-.--

SECTION IV.

Of the law, as dead to believers,

SECTION V.

Believers dead to the law, that they might live to
God, 137

SECTION VI.

We must be dead to the law as a covenant, be-
fore we can live to God in holy and acceptable
obedience, ----- - 141

SECTION VII.

Of the law as a rule of conduct to believers 144

COME AND Vi^ELCOME, TO JESUS
CHRIST ; OR, a plain and profitable

DISCOURSE ON JOHN VI. 37: SHOWING
THE CAUSE, TRUTH, AND MANNER, OF THE
COMING OF A SINNER TO JESUS CHRIST ;
WITH HIS HAPPY RECEPTION, AND BLES-
SED ENTERTAINMENT. By JoHN BuN-
YAN, ------ 150

DR. GRIFFIN'S LETTER ON COM-
MUNION. A LETTER ON COMMUNION
AT THE lord's TABLE : ADDRESSED TO A
MEMBER OF THE BAPTIST CHURCH. By

THE Rev. Edward D. Griffin, D. D.,

PRESIDENT OF WILLIAM's COLLEGE, - 211

PROFESSOR RIPLEY'S REVIEW
OF Dr. Griffin's letter on commun-
ion, ..--.-. 213

A MEMOIR OF THE REV. ROBERT
HALL, A. M. By O. Gregory, L. L. D.
F. R. A. S. 225

STRICTURES ON SANDEMANIAN-
ISM, in twelve letters to a friend.
By Rev. Andrew Fuller. - - 279

LETTER n.

A general view of the system, with its leading
paints of difference from the systems which it
opposes, ...... 283

LETTER m.

A more Particular Inquiry into the Consequen--
ces of I\Ir. Sandeman's Notion of Justifying
Faith, 290

LETTER IV.

On the faith of devils and nominal Christians, 205

LETTER V.

On the connection between repentance toward God
and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ, - 299

LETTER VL

On tho connection between knowledge and dispo-
sition, ------- 305

LETTER VII.

An inquirv whether, if believing be a spiritual act
of the mind, it does not presuppose the subject
of it to be spiritual, - - - 312

LETTER VIII.

An Inquiry whether the Principles here defended
affect the Doctrine of Free Justification bv faith

LETTER L

Introduction,

279

in the Righteousness of Christ, - - 317

LETTER IX.

On certain New Testament practices, - 324

LETTER X.

An inquirs' into the principles on which the apos-
tles proceeded in forming and organizing Chris-
tian churches, ..... 328

LETTER XI.

On the Kingdom of Christ, ... 333

LETTER XIL

The spirit of the systein compared witli that of
])rimtiive Christianity, .... 33(5

MEMOIRS OF THE LATE REV.
SAMUEL PEARCE, A. M., with ex-
tracts from some of his most in-
teresting LETTERS. Compiled By
Andrew Fuller, D. D. - - 311

Introduction,

541

CHAPTER I.

His Parentage, Conversion, Call to the Ministry,
and Settlement at Birmingham, - - 341

CHAPTER II.

His laborious exertions in promoting Missions to
the Heathen, and ofiering himself to become a
^Iissionary, ...... 347

CONTENTS OF VOLUME III.

CHAPTER III.

His exercises and labors, from the time of his giv-
ing up llio idea of goins .ihroad, to '.he cnin-
nienceinent of his last aflhction. - - 357

CHAPTER IV.

An Account of his last Adliction, and the lioly and
happy Exercises of liis Mind under it, - 369

CHAPTER V.

General Outlines of liis Character,

331

THE COVENANT OP CIRCUMCIS-
ION, NO JUST PLEA FOR IN-
FANT BAPTISM. By W. T. Brant-
LY. - - 398

A DISCOURSE, DELIVEHED AT THi; OR-
GANIZATION OF THE BIBLE SOCIETY FOR
ALBANY COUNTY AND ITS VICINITY. By
A. L. COVELL. - - - - 405

TERMS OF COMMUNION.
Cone, D. D. -

By S. H.

- 412

AN ESSAY

DECISION OF CHlRACTEiTf'^^

By JOHN FOSTER.

Vf:i

LETTER I.

Examples of the Distress and Humiliation
incident to an irresolute Mind. Such a
Mind cannot be said to belong to itself.
Manner in which a Man of decisive Spir-
it deliberates, and passes into action.
CcEsar. Such a Spirit prevents the Fret-
ting awaij, in harrctssing Altercations of
Will, of the animated Feelings required
for sustaining the vigor of Action. Averts
impertinent Interference. Acquires, if
free from Harshness of Manner, an un-
disputed and beneficial Ascendency over
Associates. Its last resource inflexible
Pertinacity. Instance in a Man on a
Jury.

My Dear Friend — We have several
times talked of this bold quality, and ac-
knowledged its great importance. Without
it, a human being, with powers atbestbutfee-
ble, and surrounded by innumerable things
tending to perplex, to divert, or to oppress
their operations, is, indeed, a pitable atom,
the sport of diverse and casual impulses. It
is a poor and disgraceful thing, not to be
able to reply, with some degree of certainty,
10 the simple questions. What will you be ?
What will you do 1

A little acquaintance -with mankind will
supply numberless illustrations of the im-
portance of tills character. You will often

NOTE.— The Review of this work, by Robert Hall,
was inserted, in our Second volume, through mistake,
in place of the original work. We now present to our
Readers the bonajide ESSAY, than which, a more mas.
terly work, on this subject, never appeared in prini-
The Review, however, is no ordinary production ; and
will, we doubt not, be regarded as enhancing the value
of the Library. We design to obviate all errors of tliis
kind ; but we are glad that, in this instance, our blunder
is the Readers' !:^in.~PiMiti/icr.

Vol. 3.— a.

see a person anxiously hesitating a long
time between different, or opposite determi-
nations, though impatient of the pain of such
a state, and ashamed of its debility. A faint
impulse of preference alternates towards the
one and toward the other ; and the mind, while
thusheldina'trembhngbalance, isvexed that
it cannot get some new thought, or feeling,
or motive, that it has not more sense, more
resolution, more of any thing that would
save it from envying even the decisive in-
stinct of brutes. It wishes that any circum-
stance might happen, or any person might
appear,that could deliver it from the miser-
able suspense.

In many instances, when a determination
is adopted, it is frustrated by this indecision.
A man, for example, resolves to make a
journey to-morrow, which he is not under
an absolute necessity to make, but the in-
ducements appear, this evening so strong,
that he does not think it possible he can hes-
itate in the morning. In the morning, how-
ever, these inducements have unaccounta-
bly lost much of their force. Like the sun
that is rising at the same time, they appear
dim through a mist ; and the sky lowers, or
he fancies that it lowers ; recollections of
toils and fatigues ill repaid in past expedi-
tions rise and pass into anticipation ; and he
lingers uncertain, till an advanced hour
determines the question for him, by the cer-
tainty that it is now too late to go.

Perhaps a man has conclusive reasons
for wishing to remove to another place of
residence. But when he is going to take
the first actual step towards executing his
purpose, he is met by a new train of ideas,
presenting the possible, and magnifying the
unquestionable, disadvantages anil uncer-
tainties of a new situation, awakening the nat-
ural reluctance to quit a place to which hab-
it has accommodated his feelings, and which
has grown warm to him, if I may so express

FOSTER ON DECISION.

it, by his having been in it so long ; giving
new strength to his alFection for the friends
whom he must leave, and so detaining him
still lingering, long after his serious judg-
ment may have dictated to him to be gone.

A man may think of some desirable alter-
ation in his plan of life ; perhaps in the ar-
rangements of his I'amily, or in the mode
of his intercourse with society. Would it
be a good thing 7 He thinks it would be a
good thing. It certainly would be a very
good thing. He wishes it were done. He
will attempt it almost immediately. The
following day he doubts whetlier it would
be quite prudent. Many things are to be
considered. May there not be in the change
some evil of which he is not aware ? Is this
a proper time ? What will the people say ?
And thus, though he does not formally re-
nounce his purpose, he shrinks out of it, with
a wish that he could be fully satisfied of the
propriety of renouncing it. Perhaps he
wishes that the thought had never occurred
to him, since it has diminished his self-com-
placency, without promoting his virtue.
But the next day, his conviction of the wis-
dom and advantage of such a reform comes
again with great force. Then, Is it so prac-
ticable, as I was at first willing to imagine ?
Why not? Other men have done much
greater things; a resolute mind is omnipo-
tent ; difficulty is a stimulus and a triumph to
a strong spirit; "the joys of conquest are the
joys of man." What need I care about peo-
ple's opinion 7 It shall be done. He makes
the first attempt. But some miexpected ob-
stacle presents itself; he feels the awkward-
ness of attempting an unaccustomed man-
ner of acting ; the questions or the ridicule
of his friends disconcert him; his ardor
abates and expires. He again begins to
question, whether it be wise, whether it be
necessary, whether it be possible; and at last
surrenders his purpose, to be, perhaps, re-
sumed when the same feelings return, and to
be in the same manner again relinquished.

While animated by some magnanimous
sentiments which he has heard or read, or
while musing on some great example, a
man may conceive the design, and partly
sketch the plan, of a generous enterprize ;
and his imagination revels in the felicity
that would follow, to others and to himself
from its accomplishment. The splendid re-
presentation always centres in himself, as
the hero that is to realize it.

Yet a certain consciousness in his mind
doubtfully asks. Is this any thing more than
a dream ; or am I really destined to achieve
such an enterprize? Destined ! — and why
is not this conviction oi" its excellence, this
conscious duty of performing the noblest
things that are pospiUle, and this passionate
ardor, enough to secure that I shall effect
it? He feels indignant at that failing part

of his nature which puts him so far below
his own conceptions, and below the exam-
ples which he is admiring ; and this feeling
assists him to resolve, tliat lie will undertake
this enterprize, that he certainly will, though
the Alps or the Ocean lie between him and
the object. Again his ardor slackens ; dis-
trustful of himself, he wishes to know how
the design would appear to other tninds ;
and when he speaks of it to hi.s associates,
one of them wonders, another laughs, and
another frowns. His pride attempts, wjiile
with them, a manful defence ; but his mind
is gradually descending toward their level,
he becomes ashamed to entertain a vi.sion-
ary project, which, therefore, like a rejected
friend, desists from intruding on him or fol-
lowing him, and he subsides, at last, into
what he labors to believe a man too rational
for the schemes of ill-calculating enthusiasm.
And it were strange if the elFort to make
out this favorable estimate of himself did
not succeed, while it is so much more pleas-
ant to attribute one's defect of enterprize
to wisdom, which on maturer thought dis-
approves of it, than to imbecility which
shrinks from it.

A person of undecisive character wonders
how all the embarrassments in the world
happened to meet exactly in his way, to
place him just in that one situation for which
he is peculiarly unadapted, and in which
he is also willing to think no other man
could have acted with much facility or con-
fidence. Incapable of setting up a firm pur-
pose on the basis of things as they arc, he
is often employed in vain speculations on
some different supposable state of things,
which would have saved him from all this
perplexity and irresolution. He thinks what
a detennined course he could have pursued,
ly his talents, his health, his age, had been
different ; if he had been acquainted with
some one person sooner ; if his friends were
in this or the other point, different from Avhat
they are : or if fortune had showered her
favors on him. And he gives himself as
much license to complain as if all tliese ad-
vantages had been among tlie rights of his
nativity, but refused, by a malignant or ca-
pricious fate, to his life. Thus he is occu-
pied, instead of catching with a vigilant eye,
and f^eizing with a strong hand, all the pos-
sibilities of his actual situation.

A man without decision can never be said
to belong to himself; since, if he dared to
assert that he did, tlie puny force of some
cause, about as powerful, you would have
supposed, as a spider, may make a capture
of the hapless boaster the very next mo-
ment, and trium})hantly exhibit the futility
of the determinations by which he Avas to
have proved tlie independence of his under-
standing and his will. He belongs to what-
ever can seize him : and innumerable things

FOSTER ON DECISION.

do actually verify their claim on him, and
arrest him as he tries to go along ; as twigs
and chips, floating near the edge of a river,
are intercepted by every weed, and whirled
in every little eddy. Having concluded on
a design, he may pledge himself to accom-
plish it, if the hundred diversities of feeling
which may come within the week, will let
him. As his character precludes all fore-
sight of his conduct, he may sit and wonder
what form and direction his views and ac-
tions are destined to take to-morrow ; as a
farmer has often to acknowledge the next
day's proceedings are at the disposal of its
winds and clouds.

This man's opinions and determinations
always depend very much on other human
beings; and what chance for consistency
and stability, while the persons with whom
he may converse, or transact, are so vari-
ous ? This very evening, he may talk with
a man whose sentiments will melt away the
present form and outline of his purposes,
however firm and defined he may have fan-
cied tliem to be. A succession of persons
whose faculties were stronger than his own
might, in spite of his irresolute reaction,
take him and dispose of him as they pleased.
An infirm character practically confesses
itself made for subjection, and the. man so
constituted passes, like a slave, from owner
10 owner. Sometimes indeed it happens,
that a person of this sort falls into the train,
and under the permanent ascendency, of
some one stronger character, which thus
becomes through life the oracle and guide,
and gives the inferior a steady will and plan.
This, when the leading character is virtu-
ous, is a fortunate relief to the feeling, and
an advantageous point gained to the utility,
of the subordinate appended mmd.

It is inevitable, that the regulation of ev-
ery man's plan must greatly depend on the
course of events, which come in an order
not to be foreseen or prevented. But in ac-
commodating the plans of conduct to the train
of events, the difference between two men
may be no less than that, in the one instance,
the man is subservient to the events, and in
the other, the events are made subservient
to the man. Some men seem to have been
taken along by a succession of events, and,
as it were, handed forward in quiet passive-
ness from one to another ; without any de-
termined principle in their own characters, by
which they could constrain those events to
serve a design formed antecedently to them,
or apparently in defiance of them. The events
seized them as a neutral material, not they the
events. Others, advancing through life with
an internal invincible determination of mind,
have seemed to make the train of circumstan-
ces, whatever they were, conduce as much
to their chief design, as if they had taken
place on purpose. It is wonderful how even
the apparent casualties of life aeera to bow'

to a spirit that will not bow to them, and
yield to assist a design, after having in vain
attempted to frustrate it.

You may have seen such examples, though
they are, comparatively, not numerous. You
may have seen a man of this strong charac-
ter in a state of indecision concerning some
afl'air, in which it was requisite for him to
determime, because it was requisite for him
to act. But, in this case, his manner would
assure you that he would not remain long
undecided ; you would wonder if you found
him still at a loss the next day. If he ex-
plained his thoughts, you would perceive
that their clear process, evidently at each
effort approaching nearer to the result, must
certainly reach it ere long. The delibera-
tion of such a mind is a very different thing
from the fluctuation of the otlier. To know
hoiv to obtain a determination, is one of the first
symptoms of a rationally decisive character.

Wlien the decision was formed, and the
purpose fixed, you would feel an entire as-
surance that something would absolutely
be done. It is characteristic of such a mind,
to think for effect ; and the pleasure of es-
caping from temporary doubt, gives an ad-
ditional impulse to the force with which it
is carried into action. Such a man will not
re-examine his conclusions with endless re-
petition, and he will not be delayed long by
consulting other persons, after he has ceas-
ed to consult himself. He cannot bear to
sit still among unexecuted decisions, and
unattempted projects. We wait to hear of
his achievements, and are confident we shall
not wait long. The possibility or the means
may not be obvious to us, but we know that
every thing will be attempted, and that such
a mind is like a river, which, in whatever
manner it is obstructed, will make its way
somewhere. It must have cost Caesar ma-
ny anxious hours of deliberation, before he
decided to pass the Rubicon ; but it is prob-
able he suffered but few to elapse after his
decision, before he did pass it. And any
one of his friends, who should have been ap-
prized of this determination, and understood
his character, would have smiled contempt-
uously to hear it insinuated that though Cre-
sar had resolved, Caesar would not dare ; or
that, though he might cross the Rubicon,
whose opposite bank presented to him no
hostile legions, he might come to other riv-
ers, which he would not cross ; or that either
rivers, or any other obstacle, would deter
him from prosecuting the determination
from tills ominous commencement to its very
last consequence.

One signal advantage possessed by a
mind of tSs character is, that its passions
are not wasted. The whole measure of
passion of which any mind, with important
transactions before it, is capable, is not more
than enough to supply interest and energy
to its practical exertions ; and therefore as

FOSTER ON DECISION

little as possible of this sacred fire-should be
expended in a way that does not augment
the Ibrce of action. But nothing can lees
contribute to vigor of action, than protract-
ed anxious fluctuation, intermixed with res-
olutions decided and revoked, while yet
nothing causes a greater expense of feeling.
The heart is fretted and exhausted by being
subjected to an alternation of contrary ex-
citements, with the ultimate mortifying con-
sciousness of their contributing to no end.
The long-wavering deliberation, whether to
perform some bold action of difficult virtue,
has often cost more to feeling than the action
itself, or a series of such actions, would have
cost ; witli the great disadvantage, too, of
being relieved by none of that invigoration,
which, to the man in action, would have
sprung from the spirit of the action itseli",
and have renovated the ardor which it was
expending. A person of decisive character,
by consuming as little passion as possible in
dubious musings, and abortive resolutions,
can secure its utmost value and use, by
tlirowing it all into effective operation.

Another advantage of this charac-ter, is,
that it exempts from a great deal of inter-
ference and persecution, to which an irres-
olute man is subjected. Weakness in every
form, tempts arrogance ; and a man may
be allowed to wish for a kind of character
with which stupidity and impertinence may
not make so free. When a firm decisive
spirit is recognized, it is curious to see how
the space clears around a man, and leaves
him room and freedom. The disposition to
interrogate, dictate, or banter, preserves a
respectful and politic distpnce, judging it not
unwise to keep the peace with a person of
BO much energy. A conviction that he un
derstands and that he wills with extraordi
nary force, silences the conceit that intended
to perplex or instruct him, and intimidates
. the malice tliat was disposed to attack him
There is a I'eeling, as in respect to Fate,
that the decrees of so inflexible a spirit viust
be right, or tliat, at least, they will be ac
comphshed.

But not only will he secure the freedom
of acting for himself, he will obtain also by
degrees the coincidence of those in whose
company he is to transact the business of
hfe. If the manners of such a man are free
from arrogance, and he can qualify his firm
ness Avith a moderate degree of insinuation ;
and if his measures have partly lost the ap-
pearance of being the dictates of his will,
under the wider and softer sanction of some
experience that they are reasonable ; both
competition and fear will be laid to sleep,
and his will may acquire an unresisted as-
cendency over many who will be pleased to
fall into the mechanism of a system, which
they find makes them more successful and
happy than they could have been amidst

the anxiety of adjusting plans and expedi-
ents of their own, and the consequences of
often adjusting them ill. I have known sev-
eral parents, both fathers and mothers,
whose management of their families has
answered this description ; and has display-
ed a striking example of the facile compla-
cency with which a number of persons, of
different ages and dispositions, will yield to
the decisions of a firm mind, acting on an
equitable and .enlightened system.

The last resource of this character is,
hard inflexible pertinacity, on which it may
be allowed to rest its strfcngth, after finding
it can be efiectual in none of its milder forms.
I remember admiring an instance of this
kind, in a firm, sagacious, and very estima-
ble old man, Avhom I well knew, and who
is now dead. Being on a jury, in a trial of
life and death, he Avas completely satisfied
of the innocence of the prisoner ; the other
eleven were of the opposite opinion. But
he was resolved the man should not be con-
demned ; and as the first effort lor prevent-
ing it, very properly made application to
the minds of his associates, spending seve-
ral hours in laboring to convince them. But
he found he made no impression, while he
was exhausting the strength which was to
be reserved lor another mode of operation.
He then calmly told them, it should now be
a trial who could endure confinement and
famine the longest, and that they might be
quite assured he would sooner die than re-
lease them at the expense of the prisoner's
hfe. In this situation, they spent about
twentj^-four hours ; when, at length, all ac-
ceded to his verdict of acquittal.

It is not necessary to amplify on the in-
dispensable importance of this quality, in
order to the accomplishment of any thing
eminently good. We instantly see that ev-
ery path to signal excellence is so obstruct-
ed and beset, that none but a spirit so qual-
ified can pass. But it is time to examine
what are the elements which compose the
character.

LETTER II.

Brief inquiry into the Constituents of this
commanding Quality. Corpoi'eal Con-
stitution. Possibili/y, nevertheless., of a
firm Mind in a feeble Body. Confidence
in a Man^s own Judgment. Hiis is an
uncommon Distinction. Picture of a Man
who wants it. This Confidence distin-
guished from Obstinacy. Partly found-
ed on E.iyperience. Takes a high Tone
of Independence in devising Schemes.
Distressing Dilemmas.

Perhap.s the best mode would be to bring
into our thoughts, in succession, the most

FOSTER ON DECISION.

remarkable examples of this character that
we have known in real life, or that we have
read of in history, or even in fiction, and at-
tentively to observe, in their conversations,
manners, and actions, what principles ap-
pear to produce, or to constitute this com-
manding distinction. You will easily pur-
sue this investigation yourself. I lately
made a partial attempt, and shall offer you
a number of suggestions.

As a previous observation, it is beyond
all doubt that very much depends on the
constitution of the body. It would be for
physiologists to explain, if it were explica-
ble, the via7i7ier in which corporeal organ-
ization affects the mind; I only assume it as a
fact, that there is, in the material construction
of some persons, much more than of others,
some quality which augments, if it does not
create, both the stability of their resolution,
and the energy of their active tendencies.
There is something that, like the ligatures
which one class of the Olympic combatants
bound on their hands and wrists, braces
round, if I may so describe it, and compress-
es the powers of the mind, giving them a
steady forcible spring and re-action, which
they would presently lose if they could be
transferred into a constitution of soft, yield-
ing, treacherous debility. The action of
strong character seems to demand some-
tliing firm in its corporeal basis, as massive
engines require, for their weight and for
their working, to be fixed on a solid founda-
tion. Accordingly I believe it would be
found, that a majority of the persons most
remarkable for decisive character, have pos-
sessed great constitutional firmness. I do
not mean an exemption from disease and
pain, nor any certain measure of mechani-
cal strength, but a tone of vigor, the oppo-
site to lassitude, and adapted to great exer-
tion and endurance. This is clearly evinced
in respect to many of them, by the prodig-
ious labors and deprivations which they
have borne in prosecuting their designs.
The physical nature has seemed a proud
ally of the moral one, and with a hardness
that would never shrink, has sustained the
energy that could never remit.

A view of the disparities between the dif-
ferent races of animals inferior to man, will
show the effect of organization on disposi-
tion. Compare, for instance, a lion with
the common beasts of our fields, many of
them composed of a larger bulk of animated
substance. What a vast superiority of
courage impetuous movement, and determin-
ed action ; and we attribute tliis difference
to some great dissimilarity of modification
in tlie composition of the animated materi-
al. Now it is probable that a difference
somewhat analagous subsists between some
human bodies and others, and tliat tJiis is
no small part of the cause of the striking in

equalities in respect to decisive character.
A very decisive man has probably more of
the physical quality of a lion in his compo-
sition than other men.

It is observable that women in general
have less inflexibihty of character than men ;
and though many moral influences contrib-
ute to this difference, the principal cause
may probably be something less firm in
the corporeal texture. Now that physical
quality, whatever it is, from the existence
of a smaller measure of which in the con-
stitution of the frame, women have less
firmness than men, may be possessed by
one man more than by men in general, in
a greater degree of difference than that by
which men in general exceed women.

If there have been found some resolute
spirits powerfully asserting themselves in
feeble vehicles, it is so much the better;
since this would authorize a hope, that if
all the other grand requisites can be com-
bined, they may form a strong character, in
spite of the counteraction of an unadapted
constitution. And, on the other hand, no
constitutional hardness will form the true
character, without those grand principles ;
though it may produce that false and con-
temptible kind of decision which we term
obstinacy ; a stubbornness of temper, which
can assign no reasons but mere will, for a
constancy which acts in the nature of dead
weight rather than of strength ; resembling
less the re-action of a powerful spring, than
the gravitation of a big stone.

The first prominent mental characteristic
of the person whom I describe is, a com-
plete confidence in his own judgment. It
will perhaps be said, that this is not so un-
common a qualification. I however think it
is uncommon. It is indeed obvious enough,
that almost all men have a flattering esti-
mate of their own understanding, and that
so long as this understanding has no hard-
er task than to form opinions which are not
to be tried in action, they have a most self-
complacent assurance of being right. This
assurance extends to the judgments which
they pass on the proceedings of others.
But let them be brought into the necessity
of adopting actual measures in an untried
proceeding, where, miassisted by any pre-
vious example or practice, they are redu-
ced to depend on the resources of pure
judgment alone, and you will see, in many
cases, this confidence of opinion vanish
away. The mind seems all at once placed
in a misty vacuity, where it reaches round
on all sides, but can find nothing to take
hold of Or if not lost in vacuity, it is over-
whelmed by confusion ; and feels as if its
faculties were annihilated as soon as it be-
gins to think of schemes and calculations
among the possibilities, chances, and haz-
ards, which overspread a wide, untrodden

FOSTER OiN DECISION,

field ; and tliis conscious imbecility becomes
severe distress, when it is believed that con-
sequences, of serious or unknown good or
evil, are depending on the decisions which
are to be formed amidst so mudi uncertain-
ty. The thought painfully recurs at each
step and turn, I may be right, but it is more
probable I am wrong. It is like tlie case
of a rustic, walking in London, who, hav-
ing no certain direction through the vast
confusion of streets to the place where he
wishes to be, advances, and hesitates, and
turns, and inquires, and becomes, at each
corner, still more inextricably perplexed.*
A man in tliis situation feels he shall be very
unfortunate if he cannot accomplish more
than he can understand. Is not this ire-
quently, when brought to the practical test,
the stiite of a mind not much disposed, in
general, to undervalue its own judgment?

In cases where judgment is not so com-
pletely bewildered, you will yet perceive a
great practical distrust oi' it. A man has
perhaps advanced a considerable way
towards a decision, but then lingers at a
small distance from it, till necessity, with
a stronger hand than conviction, impels him
upon it. He cannot see the whole length
of the question, and suspects the part be-
yond his sight to be the most important,
because it is beyond. He fears that cer-
tain possible consequences, if they should
follow, would cause him to reproach him-
self for his present determination. He won-
ders how this or tlie other person would
have acted in the same circumstances;
eagerly catches at any thing like a respect-
able precedent ; and looks anxiously round
to know what each person thinks on the
subject; while the various and opposite
opinions to which he listens, perhaps only
serve to confound his perception of the
track of thought by which he had hoped to
reach his conclusion. Even when that con-
clusion is obtained, there are not many
minds that might not be brought a few de-
grees back into dubious hesitation, by a
man of respected understanding saying, in
a confident tone, Your plan is injudicious ;
your selection is unfortunate; the event
will disappoint you.

It cannot be supposed that I am main-
taining such an absurdity as that a man's
complete reliance on his own judgment is
necessarily a proof of that judgment be-
ing correct and strong. Intense stupidity
may be in this point the rival of clear-sight-
ed wisdom. I had once some knowledge
of a person,, whom no mortal, not even

' "Why does not the man call a hackney-coach 1" a
gay reader, I am aware, will say of a person so beinaz-
ed in a great town. So he migtit, certainly ; and the gay
reader and I have only to deplore that there is no paral-
lel crmvenionco for the ase;iitance of perplexed under-
istaiidings.

Cromwell, could have excelled in the arti-
cle of confidence in his judgment, and con-
sequent inflexibility of conduct; v^^hile at
the same time his successive schemes were
ill-judged to a degree that made his disap-
pointments ridiculous rather than pitiable.
He was not an example of that simple ob-
stinacy which I have mentioned before ;
for he considered his measures, and did
not want for reasons which satisfied him-
self beyond a doubt of their being most ju-
dicious. This confidence of opinion may
be pos.sessed by a person in whom it will be
contemptible or mischievous ; but its prop-
er place is in a very different character, and
without it there can be no dignified actors
in human affairs.

If, after observing how foolish this confi-
dence appears as a feature in a weak char-
acter, it be inquired what it is in a justly de-
cisive person's manner of thinking, which
authorizes him in this firm assurtxnce tliat
his view of the concerns before him is com-
prehensive and accurate ; he may, in an-
swer, justify his confidence upon euch
grounds as these : that he is conscious that
objects are presented to his mind with an
exceedingly distinct and perspicuous aspect,
not like the shapes of moonlight, or like
Ossian's ghosts, dim forms of uncircumscrib-
ed shade ; that he sees the different parts
of the subject in an arranged order, not in
dispersed fragments ; that in each delibera-
tion the main object keeps its clear pre-em-
inence, and he perceives tlie bearings wliich
the subordinate and conducive ones have
on it ; that perhaps several dissimilar trains
of thought lead him to the same conclu-
sion ; and that he finds his judgment does
not vary according to tlie moods of his
feelings.

It may be presumed that a high degree
of this character is not attained without a
considerable measure of that kind of cer-
tainty, with respect to the relations of things,
which can be acquired only from experi-
ence and observation ; though an extreme
vigilance in the exercise of observation, and
a strong and strongly exerted power of
generalizing on experience, may have made
a comparatively short time enough to sup-
ply a large share of the wisdom derivable
from these sources ; so that a mtm may be
rich in the benefits of experience, and there-
fore may have all the decision of judgment
legitimately (bunded on that accomplish-
ment, long before he is old. Tlais experi-
mental knowledge he will be able to apply
in a direct and immediate mannner, and
without refining it into general principles,
to some situations of affairs, so as to antici-
pate the consequences of certain actions in
those situations as confidently and ration-
ally as the kind of fruit to be produced by
a given kind of tree. Thus far the facts

FOSTER ON DECISION.

of his experience will serve him as prece-
dents. At the next step, he will be able to
apply this knowledge, now converted into
general principles, to a multitude of cases
bearing but a partial resemblance to any-
thing he has actually witnessed. And then,
in looking forward to the possible occur-
rence of altogether new combinations of
circumstances, he can trust to the I'csources
which he is persuaded his intellect will open
to him, or is humbly confident, if he is a
devout man, that the Supreme Intelligence
will not suti'er to be wanting to him, when
the occasion arrives. In proportion as his
views include, at all events, more certain-
ties than those of other men, he is less fear-
ful of contingencies. And if, in the course
of executing his design, unexpected disas-
trous events should befal, but which are
not owing to any thing wrong in the plan
and principles of that design, but to for-
eign causes ; it will be characteristic of
a strong mind to attribute these events dis-
criminately to their own causes, and not to
the plan, which, therefore, instead of being
disliked and rehnquished, will be still as
much approved as before, and the man
will proceed calmly to the sequel of it
without any change of arrangement ; un-
less indeed these sinister events should be
such as to alter the whole state of things
to which the plan was correctly adapted,
and so to create a necessity on this account
for an entirely new one to be formed.

Without absolutely despising the under-
standings of other men, he will perceive
their dimensions compared with his own,
which will preserve its independence through
every communication and encounter. It is
however a part of this very independence,
that he will hold himself at liberty to alter
his opinion, if the information which may
be communicated to him, shall give suffi-
cient reason. And as no one is so sensible
of the importance of a complete acquaint-
ance with a subject as the man wlio is al-
ways endeavoring to think conclusively, he
will listen with the utmost attention to the
inforynaiion, which may be received some-
times from persons for whose judgment he
has no great respect. The information
which they may afford to him is not all the
less valuable for the circumstance, that his
practical inferences from it may be quite
dirterent from theirs. Counsel will in gen-
eral have only so much weight with him as
it supplies knowledge wliich may assist his
judgment ; he will yield nothing to it as
authority; but he may hear it with more
candor and good temper, from being con-
scious of this independence of his judg-
ment, than the man who is afraid lest the
first person that begins to persuade him,
should confound his determination. He
feels it entirely a work of his own to delibe-

rate and to resolve, amidst all the advice
which may be attempting to control him.
If, with an assurance of his intellect being
of the highest order, he also holds a com-
manding station, he will feel it gratuitous
to consult with any one, excepting merely
to receive statements of facts. This ap-
pears to be exemplified in the man, who
has lately shown the nations of Europe
how large a portion of the world may, when
Heaven permits, be at the mercy of the sol-
itary workings of an individual mind.

The strongest trial of this determined
style of judgment is in those cases of ur-
gency where something must immediately
be done, and where the consequences of
deciding right or wrong are of great impor-
tance ; as in the office of a medical man in
treating a patient whose situation, while it
renders some hazardous means indispensa-
ble, also renders it extremely doubtful
which ought to be selected. A still strong-
er illustration is the case of a general, who
is compelled, in the very instant, to make
dispositions on which the event of a battle,
the lives of thousands of his men, or per-
haps almost the fate of a nation may de-
pend. He may even be reduced to an al-
ternative which appears equally dreadful
on both sides. Such a dilemma is describ-
ed in Denon's account of one of the san-
guinary confficts between the French and
the Mamelukes, as having for a while held
General Desaix, though a very decisive
commander, in a state of anguish.

LETTER III.

Energy of Feeling as neccssai'y as Confi-
dence of Opinion. Conduct that results
from, their combination. Effect and
Value of a Ruling Passion. Great
Decision of Character invests even icick-
ed Beings with something which we are
tempted to admire. Satan. Zanga.
A Spanish Assassin. Remarkable Ex-
ample of this Quality in a man who was
a Prodigal and became poor, but turned
Miser andbecamerich. Howard. White-
field. Christian Missionaries.

This indispensable basis, confidence of
opinion, is however, not enough to consti-
tute the character in question. For many
persons, who have been conscious and
proud of a much stronger grasp of thought
than ordinary men, and have held the most
decided opinions on important things to be
done, have yet exhibited, in the hstlessness
or inconstancy of their actions, a contrast
and a disgrace to tlie operations of tJieir
understandings. For Avant of some cogent
feeling impelling them to carry every inter-

FOSTER ON DECISION.

nal decision into action, they have been
still left where they were ; and a dignified
judgment has been seen in the hapless
plight of having no effective forces to exe-
cute its decrees.

It is evident then, (and I perceive I have
partly anticipated this article in the first
letter,) that another essential principle of
the character is, a total incapability of sur-
rendering to indifference or delay the seri-
ous determinations of the mind. A stren-
uous icill must accompany the conclusions
of thought, and constantly incite the utmost
efforts for their practical accomplishment.
The intellect must be invested, if I may so
describe it, witli a glowmg atmosphere of
passion, under the influence of which, the
cold dictates of reason take fire, and spring
into active powers.

Revert once more in your thoughts to
the persons most remarkably distinguished
by tills decision. You will perceive, that
instead of allowing themselves to sit down
dehghted after the labor of successful think-
ing, as if they had completed some great
thing, they regard this labor but as a cir-
cumstance of preparation, and the conclu-
sions resulting from it as of no more value,
till applied to the greater labor which is to
follow, than tne entombed lamps of the
Rosicrucians. They are not disposed to be
content in a region of mere ideas, while
they ought to be advancing into the field of
corresponding realities ; they retire to that
region sometimes, as ambitious adventurers
anciently went to Delphi, to consult, but
not to reside. You will therefore find tliem
almost uniformly in determined pursuit of
some object, on which tliey fix a keen and
steady look, and which they never lose
sight of, while they follow it through the
confused multitude of other things.

A person actuated by such a spirit, seems
by his manner to say, Do you think that I
would not disdain to adopt a purpose which
I would not devote my utmost force to ef-
fect ; or that having thus devoted my ex-
ertions, I will intermit or withdraw them,
through indolence, debility, or caprice ; or
that I will surrender my object to any inter-
ference except the uncontrollable dispensa-
tions of Providence ? No, I am linked to
my determination with iron bands ; it clings
to me with the tenacity of my fate, of the
accomplishment of which, the frustration of
my purpose may indeed be doomed as a
part, but is doomed so only through calami-
ty or death.

This display of systematic energy seems
to indicate a constitution of mind in which
the passions are commensurate with the in-
tellectual part, and ai the same time hold
an inseparable correspondence with it, like
the faitnful sympathy of the tides with the
phases of the moon. There is such an

equality and connection, that subjects of
the decisions of judgment become propor-
tionably and of course the objects of pas-
sion. When the judgment decides with a
very strong preference, that same strength
of preference, actuating also the passions,
devotes them with energy to the object,
so long as it is thus approved ; and this
will produce such a conduct as I have des-
cribed. When therefore a firm, self-confi-
ding, and unaltering judgment fails to
make a decisive character, it is evident
either that the passions in that mind are
too languid to be capable of a strong and
unremitting excitement, which defects make
an indolent or irresolute man ; or that they
perversely sometimes coincide with judg-
ment and sometimes clash with it, which
makes an inconsistent or versatile man.

There is no man so irresolute as not to
act with determination in many single ca-
ses, where the motive is powerful and sim-
ple, and where there is no need of plan
and perseverance ; but this gives no claim
to the term character, which expresses the
habitual tenor of a man's active being.
The character may be displayed in the
successive unconnected undertakings, which
are each of limited extent, and end with the
attainment of their particular objects. But
it is seen to the greatest advantage in those
grand schemes of action, which have no
necessary point of conclusion, which con-
tinue on tlirough successive years, and ex-
tend even to that dark period when the
agent himself is withdrawn from human
sight.

I have repeatedly remarked to you, in
conversation, the effect of what has been
called a Ruhng Passion. When its object
is noble, and an enhghtened understanding
directs its movements, it appears to me a
great felicity; but whether its object be
noble or not, it infallibly creates, where it
exists in great force, tlmt active, ardent con-
stancy, which I describe as a capital feat-
ure of the decisive character. The Sub-
ject of such a commanding passion won-
ders, if indeed he were at leisure to won-
der, at the persons who pretend to attach
importance to an object which they make
none but the most languid efforts to secure.
The utmost powers of the man are con-
strained into the service of the favorite
Cause by this passion, which sweeps away,
as it advances, all the trivial objections and
little opposing motives, and seems almost
to open a way tlirough impossibilities. This
spirit comes on him in the morning as soon
as he recovers his consciousness, and com-
mands and impels him through the day,
with a power from which he could not
emancipate himself if he would. When
the force of habit is added, the determina-
tion becomes invincible, and seems to as-

FOSTER ON DECISION.

sume rank with the great laws of nature,
making it nearly as certain that such a
man will persist in his course as that in
the morning the sun will rise.

A persisting, untameable efficacy of soul
gives a seductive and pernicious dignity
even to a character and a course which
every moral principle ibrbids us to approve.
Often in the narrations of history and fic-
tion, an agent of the most dreadful designs
compels a sentiment of deep respect for
the unconquerable mind displayed in their
execution. While we shudder at his activ-
ity, we say witli regret, mingled with an
admiration which borders on partiality,
What a noble being this would have been,
if goodness, had been his destiny! The
partiality is evinced in the very selection of
terms, by which we show that we are tempt-
ed to refer his atrocity rather to his destiny
than to his choice. I wonder whether an
•emotion like this, has not been experienced
by each reader of Paradise Lost, relative to
the Leader of the infernal spirits ; a proof,
if sucli were the fact, that a very serious
error has been committed by the greatest
poet. In some of the Iiigh examples of am-
bition, we almost revere tlie force of mind
which impelled them forward through the
longest series of action, superior to doubt
and fluctuation, and disdainful of ease, of
pleasures, of opposition, and of danger.
We bow to the ambitious spirit which reach-
ed the true subhme in the reply of Pompey
to his friends, who dissuaded him from haz-
arding his life on a tempestuous sea in or-
der to be at Rome on an imporant occasion :
" It is necessary for me to go ; it is not ne-
cessary for me to live."

Revenge lias produced wonderful exam-
ples of this unremitting constancy to a pur-
pose. Zanga is a well-supported illustra-
lion. And you may have read a real in-
.stance of a Spaniard, wlio, being injured
by another inhabitant of the same town,
resolved to destroy him : the other was ap-
prised of this, and removed with the ut-
most secrecy, as he thought, to another
town at a considerable distance, where how-
ever he had not been more than a day or
two, before he found that his enemy was
arrived there. He removed in the same
manner to several parts of the kingdom,
remote from each other ; but in every place
quickly perceived that his deadly pursuer
was near him. At last he went to South
America, where he had enjoyed his secu-
rity but a very short time, before his unre-
lenting enemy came up with him, and ac-
complished his purpose.

You may recollect the mention, in one of
our conversations, of a young man who
vvasted in two or three years, a large pat-
rimony in profligate revels with a number
of worthless associates who called them-,

Vol. 3.— B.

selves his friends, and who, when his last
means were exhausted, treated him of
course with neglect or contempt. Reduced
to absolute want, he one day went out of
the house with an intention to put an end to
his life ; but wandering a while almost un-
consciously, he came to the brow of an em-
inence which overlooked what were lately
his estates. Here he sat down, and re-
mained fixed in thought a number of hours,
at the end of wliich he sprang from the
ground with a vehement, exulting emotion.
He had formed iiis resolution, whicli was,
that all these estates should be his again ; he
had formed his plan too, which he instantly
began to execute. He walked hastily for-
ward, determined to seize the very first
opportunity, of however humble a kind, to
gain any money, though it Avere ever so
despicable a trifle, and resolved absolutely
not to spend, if he could help it a farthing of
whatever he might obtain. TJie first thing
that drew his attention was a heap of coals
shot out of carts on the pavement before a
house. He offered himself to shovel or
wheel them into the place where they were
to be laid, and was employed. He receiv-
ed a few pence for the labor ; and then, in
pursuance of the saving part of his plan,
requested some small gratuity of meat and
drink, which was given him. He then
looked ovtt for the next thing that might
chance to offer ; and went, with indefatiga-
ble industry, through a succession of ser-
vile employments, in different places, of
longer and shorter duration, still scrupu-
lously avoiding, as far as possible, the ex-
pense of a penny. He promptly seized
every opportunity which could advance his
design, without regarding the meanness of
occupation or appearance. By this meth-
od he had gained after a considerable time,
money enough to purchase in order to sell
again a few cattle, of which he had taken
pains to understand the value. He speedily
but cautiously turned his first gains into
second advantages ; retained without a sin-
gle deviation his extreme parsimony ; and
thus advanced by degrees into larger trans-
actions and hicipient wealth. I did not
hear, or have forgotten, the continued
course of his life; but the final result was,
that he more than recovered his lost pos-
sessions, and died an inveterate miser, worth
sixty thousand pounds. I have always
recollected this as a signal instance, though
in an unfortunate and ignoble direction, of
decisive character, and of the extraordinary
effect, which according to general laws, be-
longs to the strongest form of such a char-
acter.

But not less decision has been displayed
by men of virtue. In this distinction no
man ever exceeded, for instance, or ever
will exceed, the late illustrious Howard.

FOSTER ON DECISION.

The energy of his determination was so
great, that if, instead of being habitual, it
had been shown only for a short time on
particular occasions, it would have appeared
a vehement impetuosity ; but by being un-
intermitted, it had an equability of man-
ner which scarcely appeared to exceed the
tone of a calm constancy, it was so totally
the reverse of any thing like turbulence or
agitation. It was the cahnness of an inten-
sity kept uniform by the nature of the hu-
man mind forbidding it to be more, and by
tlie character of the individual forbidding
ittobeless. The habitual passion of the mind
was a measure of feehng almost equal to
the temporary extremes and paroxysms of
common minds : as a great river, in its
customary state, is equal to a small or
moderate one when swollen to a torrent.

The moment of finishing his plans in de-
liberation, and commencing them in action
was the same. I wonder what must have
been the amount of that bribe, in emolu-
ment or pleasure, that would have detained
him a week inactive after their final adjust-
ment. The law which carries water down
a declivity, was not more unconquerable
and invariable than the determination of
his feelings towards the main object. The
importance of this object held his faculties
in a state of excitement which was too
rigid to be effected by lighter interests, and
on which therefore the beauties of nature
and of art had no power. He had no leis-
ure feeling which he could spare to be di-
verted among the innumerable varieties of
the extensive scene which he traversed ; all
his subordinate feeUngs lost their separate
existence and operation, by falling into the
grand one. There have not been wanting
trivial minds, to mark this as a fault in his
character. But the mere men of taste
ought to be silent respecting such a man
. as Howard ; he is above their sphere of
judgment. The invisible spirits, who ful-
fil their commission of philanthropy among
mortals, do not care about pictures, statues,
and sumptuous buildings ; and no more did
he, when the time in which he must have
inspected and admired them, would have
been taken from the work to which he had
consecrated his life. The curiosity which
he might feel, was reduced to wait till the hour
should arrive, when its gratification should
be presented by conscience, which kept a
scrupulous charge of all his time, as the
most sacred duty of that hour. If he was
still at every hour, when it came, fated to
to feel the attractions of the fine arts but

the second claim, they might be sure of
their revenge ; for no other man will ever
visit Rome under such a despotic conscious-
ness of duty, as to refuse himself time for
surveying the magnificence of its ruins.
Such a sin against taste is very far beyond
the reach of common saintship to commit.
It implied an inconceivable severity of con-
viction, that he had one thing to dn, and
that he who would do some great thing in
this short life, must apply himself to the
work with such a concentration of his forces,
as, to idle spectators who live only to amuse
themselves, looks like insanity.

His attention was so strongly and tena-
ciously fixed on his object, that even at the
greatest distance, as the Egyptian pyramids
to travellers, it appeared to him with a lu-
minous distinctness as if it had been nij^h,
and beguiled the toilsome length of labor
and enterprise by which he was to reach it.
It was so conspicuous before him, that not
a step deviated from the direction, and
every movement and every day was an ap-
proximation. As his method referred every
thing he did and thought to the end. and
as his exertion did not relax for a moment,
he made the trial, so seldom made, what is
the utmost effect which may be granted to
the last possible efforts of a human agent :
and therefore what he did not accomplish,
he might conclude to be placed beyond the
sphere of moral activity, and calmly leave
to the immediate disposal of Providence.

Unless the eternal happiness of mankind
be an insignificant concern, and the passion
to promote it an inglorious distinction, I may
cite George Whitefield as a noble instance
of this attribute of the decisive character,
this intense necessity of action. The great
Cause which was so languid a thing in the
hands of many of its advocates, assumed in
his administrations an unmitigable urgen-
cy-
Many of the Christian missionaries among
the heathens, such as Brainerd, Elliot, and
Schwartz, have displayed memorable ex-
amples of this dedication of their whole
being to their office, this abjuration of all
the quiescent feelings.

This would be the proper place for in-
troducing (if I did not hesitate to introduce
in any connection with merely human in-
stances) the example of him who said, " I
must be about my Father's business. My
meat and drink is to do the will of him that
sent me, and to finish his work. I have a
baptism to be baptized with, and how am
I straitened till it be accomplished."

FOSTER ON DECISION.

LETTER IV.

Courage a chief Coiistilueiii of the Charac-
ter. Effect of this in encountering Censure
and Ridicule. Almagro. Pizarro, and
Be Lttques. Defiance of Danger. Lu-
ther. Daniel. Aivother indispemable
Requisite to Decision is the full Agree-
ment of all the Powers of the Mind. La-
dy Macbeth. Richard III. Cromwell.
A Father who had the opportunity of sav-
ing one of two Sons from Death.

After the illustration on the last arti-
cle, it will seem but a very slight transition
when I proceed to specify Courage, as an
essential part of the decisive character.
An intelligent man, adventurous only in
thought, may sketch the most excellent
scheme, and after duly admiring it, and
himself as its author, may be reduced to
say. What a noble spirit that would be which
should dare to realize this ! A noble spirit !
is it I ? And his heart may answer in the
negative, while he glances a mortified
thought of inquiry round to recollect per-
sons who would venture what he dares not,
and almost hopes not to find them. Or if
by extreme effort he has brought himself to
a'resolution of braving the difficulty, he is
compelled to execrate the timid fingerings
that still keep him back from the trial. A
man endowed with the complete character,
might say, with a sober consciousness as
remote from the spirit of bravado as it is
from timidity, Thus, and thus, is my con-
viction and my determination ; now tor tlie
phantoms of lear ; let me look them in the
face ; they will find I am not made of trem-
bling materials : " I dare do all that may
become a man. I shall firmly confront
every thing that threatens me in the prose-
cuting of my purpose, and I am prepared to
meet the consequences of it when it is accom-
plished. I should despise a being, though
it were myself, whose agency could be held
enslaved by the gloomy shapes of imagi-
nation, by the haunting recollections of a
dream, by the whistling or the howling of
winds, by the shriek of owls, by the shades
of midnight, or by the threats or frowns of
man. I should be indignant to feel that, in
the commencement of an adventure, I could
think of nothing but the deep pit by the
side of the way where I must walk, into
which I may slide, the mad animal which
it is not impossible that I may meet, or the
assassin who may lurk in a thicket of yon-
der wood. And I disdain to compromise
the interests that rouse me to action, for the
privilege of a disgraceful security.

As the conduct of a decisive man is al-
ways individual, and often singular, he may
expect some serious trials of courage. For

one thing he may be encountered by the
strongest disapprobation of many of his
connections, and the censure of the great-
er part of the society where he is known.
In this case, it is not a man of common
spirit that can show himself just as at other
times, and meet their anger in the same
undisturbed manner as he would meet some
ordinary inclemency of the weather ; that
can, without harshness or violence, contin-
ue to effect every moment some part of his
design coolly replying to each ungracious
look and indignant voice, I am sorry to op-
pose you : I am not unfriendly to you, while
thus persisting in what excite your dis-
pleasure ; it would please me to have your
approbation and concurrence, and I think I
should have them if you would seriously
consider my reasons ; but meanwhile, I am
superior to opinion, I am not to be intimi-
dated by reproaches, nor would your favor
and applause be any reward for the sacri-
fice of my object. As you can do without
my approbation, I can certainly do without
yours ; it is enough that I can approve my-
self, it is enough that I can appeal to the last
authority in the creation. Amuse your-
selves, as you may, by continuing to cen-
sure or to rail ; / must continue to act.

The attack of contempt and ridicule is
perhaps a still greater trial of courage.
It is felt by all to be an admirable thing,
when it can in no degree be ascribed to the
hardness of either stupidity or confirmed
depravity, to sustain for a considerable time,
or in numerous instances, the looks of scorn,
or an unrestrained shower of taunts and
jeers, with a perfect composure, which shall
immediately after, or even at the time, pro-
ceed on the business that provokes all this
ridicule. This invincibility of temper will
often make even the scoffers themselves
tired of the sport ; they begin to feel that
against such a man it is a poor sort of hos-
tility to laugh. There is nothing that peo-
ple are more mortified to spend in vain than
their scorn. Till, however, a man becomes
a veteran, he must reckon on sometimes
meeting this trial ; and I instantly know,
if I hear him anxiously reply, to an impor-
tant suggestion of any measure to be adopt-
ed. But will they not laugh at me ? I know
that he is not the person whom this essay
attempts to describe. A man of the right
kind would say. They will smile, they will
laugh, will they ? Much good may it do
them. I have something else to do than to
trouble myself about their mirtli. I do not
care if the whole neighborhood were to
laugh in a chorus. I should indeed be sor-
ry to see or hear such a number of fools,
but pleased enough to find that they did
not consider me as one of their stamp.
The good to result from my project will not
be less, because vain and shallow minds

FOSTER ON DECISION

ihat cannot understand it, are diverted at
it and at me. What should I think of my
pursuits, if every trivial, tlioughtless being
could comprehend or would applaud them ;
and of myself, if my courage needed levity
and ignorance for their allies, or could
shrink at their sneers?

I remember, tliat on reading the account
of the project of conquering Peru, formed
by Almagro, Pizarro, and De Luques,
while abhorring the principle and the de-
sign of the men, I could not help admiring
the hardihood of mind, which made them
regardless of scorn. These three individ-
uals, before they had obtained any associ-
ates, or arms, or soldiers, or a complete
knowledge of the power of the kingdom
they were to conquer, celebrated a solemn
mass in one of the great churches, as a
pledge and a commencement of the enter-
prise, amidst the astonishment and contempt
expressed by a multitude of people for what
was deemed a monstrous project. They
hoAvever proceeded through the service,
and afterwards to their respective depart-
ments of preparation, with an apparently
entire insensibility to all this triumphant
scorn ; and thus gave the first proof of pos-
sessing that invincible firmness with which
they afterward.-^ prosecuted their design,
till they attained a success, the destructive
process and many of the results of which
humanity will forever deplore.

Milton's Abdiel is a noble illustration of
the courage that defies scorn.

But in some of the situations where de-
cision of character is to be evinced, a man
will be threatened by evils of a darker as-
pect than disapprobation or contempt. He
may apprehend serious sufferings; and
very often, to dare as far as conscience or
a great cause required, has been to dare to
die. In almost all plans of great enterprise
a man must systematically dismiss, at the
entrance, every wish to stipulate for safety
with his destiny. He voluntarily treads
witliin the precincts of danger ; and though
it is possible that he may escape, he ought
to be prepared with the Ibrtitude of a self-
devoted victim. This is the inevitable con
dition on which heroes, travellers or mis-
fiionaries among savage nations, and re-
formers on a grand scale, must commence
their career. Either they must allay their
fire of enterprise, or tliey must hold them
Bclves in readiness to be exploded by it
from the world.

The last decisive energy of a rational
courage, which confides in the Supreme
Power, is very sublime. It makes a man,
who intrepidly dares every thing that can
oppose or attack him within the whole
sphere of mortality ; who would retain his
purpose unshaken amidst the ruins of the

world ; Avho will still press toward his ob-
ject while death is impending over him.

It was in the true elevation of this char-
acter that Lutiier, when cited to appear at
the Diet of Worms, under a very questiona-
ble assurance of safety from high authority,
said to his friends, who conjured him not to
go, and justly brougiit the example of John
Huss, who, in a similar situation, and with
the same pledge of protection, had notwith-
standing been burnt filive, " I am called in
the name of God to go, and I would go,
though I were certain to meet as many
devils in Worms as there are tiles on the
hovises."

A reader of the Bible will not forget
Daniel, braving in calm devotion the de-
cree which virtually consigned him to the
den of lions; Shadracli, Meshach and Abed-
nego, saying to the tyrant, " We are not
careful to answer tliee in this matter," when
the furnace was in sight.

The combination of these several essen-
tial principles constitutes that state of mind
which is the grand requisite to decision of
character, and perhaps its most striking dis-
tinction, that is, the full agreement of the
mind with itself, tlie co-operation of all its
powers and all its dispositions.

What an unfortunate task it would be for a
charioteer, who hadharnessed a set of horses
however strong, if he could not make thenv
draw together ; if, while one of them would
go forward, another was restive, another
struggled backward, another started aside.
If even one of the four were immanagea-
bly perverse, while the three were obedient,
an aged beggar Avith his crutch might leave
Phaeton behind. So in a human being,
unless the chief forces act consentaneously,
there can be no inflexible vigor, either of will
or of execution. One dissentient principle
in the mind not only deducts so much from
the strength and mass of its agency, but
counteracts and embarrasses all the rest. li'
the judgment holds in low estimation that
which yet the passions incline a man to pur-
sue, his pursuit will be irregular and incon-
stant, though it may have occasional fits of
animation, when those passions happen to
be highly stimulated. If tliere is an oppo-
sition between judgment and habit, though
the man will probably continue to act main-
ly under tlie direction of habit in spite of
his opinions, yet sometimes the intrusion of
tliose opinions will have for the moment an
effect like that of Prospero's wand on the
limbs of Ferdinand ; and to be alternately
impelled by habit, and checked by opinion,
will be a state of vexatious debility. If two
principal passions are opposite to each
other, they will utterly distract any mind,
whatever might be the force of its faculties,
when acting without cmbarassment. The

FOSTER ON DECISION.

one passion may be somewhat stronger
than the other, and therefore just prevail
barely enough to give a feeble impulse to
the conduct of the man ; but no powerful
impulse can be given ; till the disparity of
these two rivals becomes greater, in conse-
quence of the gradual weight ol' habit, or
the reinforcement supplied by some new
impressions, being added to the preponder-
ating passion. The disparity must be no
less than an absolute predominance of the
one and subjection of the other, before the
prevailing passion will have at liberty from
the intestine conflict any large measure of
its force to throw activity into the system of
conduct. If, for instance, a man feels at
once the love of fame which is to be gained
only by arduous exertions, and an equal de-
gree of the love of pleasure which pre-
cludes those exertions ; if he is eager to
show off in splendor, and yet anxious to save
money ; if he has the curiosity of adven-
ture, and yet that sohciiude for his safety,
which forbids him to climb a precipice,
descend into a cavern, or explore a dan-
gerous wild ; if he has the stern will of a
tyrant, and yet the relentings of a man ;
if he has the ambition which would subdue
his fellow-mortals, counteracted by the hu-
manity which would not hurt them ; we
can easily anticipate the irresolute, con-
tradictory tenor of his actions. Especially
if conscience, that great troubler of the hu-
man breast, loudly declares against a man's
wishes or projects, it will be a fatal enemy
to decision, till it either reclaim the delin-
quent passions, or be debauched or mur-
dered by them.

Lady Macbeth may be cited as a harmo-
nious character, though the epithet seems
strangely applied. She had capacity, am-
bition, and courage; and she willed the death
of the king. Macbeth had still more capa-
city, ambition, and courage; and he also
willed the murder of the king. But he had,
besides, humanity, generosity, conscience,
and some measure of what forms the power
of conscience, the fear of a Superior Being.
Consequently, when the dreadful moment
approached, he felt an insupportable con-
flict between these opposite principles, and
when it was arrived, his utmost courage be-
gan to fail. The worse part of his nature
fell prostrate under the power of the better;
the angel of goodness arrested the demon
that grasped the dagger ; and would have
taken the dagger away, if the pure demo-
niac firmness of his wife, who had none of
these counteracting principles, had not
shamed, and hardened him to the deed.

The poets delineation of Richard III,
gives a dreadful specimen of this indivisibil-
ity of mental impulse. After his determi-
nation was fixed, his whole mind, with the
compactest fidelity supported him in pros-

ecuting it. Securely privileged from all
interference of doubt that could linger, or
humanity that could soften, or timidity that
could shrink, he advanced with a grim, con-
centrated constancy through scene after
scene of atrocity, still fulfilling his vow to
" cut his way through with a bloody axe."
He did not waver while he pursued hi.s
object, nor relent when he seized it.

Cromwell, (whom I mention as a parallel,
not to Richard's depravity, but to his in-
flexible vigor,) lost his mental consistency
in the latter end of a career distinguished
by as much decision as the world ever saw.
It appears that the wish to be a king, at
last arose in a mind which had execrated
royalty, and battled it from the land. As
far as he really had any republican princi-
ples and partialities, this new desire must
have been a very uncomplacent associate
for them, and must have produced a schism
in the breast where all the strong forces of
thought and passion had acted till then in
concord. The new form of ambition be-
came just predominant enough to carry him,
by slow degrees, through the embarrass-
ment and the shame of this incongruity,
into an irresolute determination to assume
the crown; so irresolute, that he was re-
duced again to a mortifying indecision by
the remonstrances of some of his friends,
which he could have slighted, and by an
apprehension of the public disapprobation,
which he could have braved, if some of the
principles of his own mind had not shrunk
or revolted from the design. When at last
the motives for relinquishing this design
prevailed, it was by so small a degree of
preponderance, that his reluctant refusal of
the offered crown was the voice only of
half his soul.

Not only two distinct counteracting pas-
sions, but one passion interested for two
objects, both equally desirable, but of which
the one must be sacrificed, may annihilate
in that instance the possibility of determin-
ed conduct. I recollect reading in an old
divine, a story from an older historian, ap-
plicable to this remark. A father went to
the agents of a tyrant, to endeavor to re-
deem his two sons, miUtary men, who with
some other captives of war were condemn-
ed to die. He offered, as a ransom, to sur-
render his own life and a large sum of
money. The tyrant's agents who had
them in charge, informed him that this
equivalent would be accepted for one of his
sons, and for one only, because they should
be accountable for the execution of two
persons ; he might therefore choose which
lie would redeem. Anxious to save even
one of them thus at the expense of his own
life, he yet was unable to decide which
should die, by choosing the other to live,
and remained in the agony of this dilemma

FOSTER ON DECISION.

so long that they were both irreversibly
ordered for execution.

LETTER V.

Formidable Power of Mischief which this
high Quality gives to bad Men. Care
required to prevent its rendering good
Men unconciliating and overbearing.
Independence and overruling Manner in
Consultation. Lord Chatham. Decision
of Character not incompatible with Sen-
sibility and mild Manners. But proba-
bly the Majority of the most eminent
E.ramples of it deficient in the kinder
Affections. King of Prussia. Situa-
tions in which it may bean absolute Duty
to act in Opposition to the Promptings of
those Affections.

It were absurd to suppose that any hu-
man being can attain a state of mind capa-
ble of acting in all instances invariably with
the full power of determination ; but it is
obvious that many have possessed a habit-
ual and very commanding measure of it ;
and I thinlc the preceding remarks have
taken account of its chief characteristics
and constituent principles. A number of
additional observations remain.

The slightest view of human affairs
shows what fatal and ample mischief may
be caused by men of tliis character, when
misled or wicked. You have but to recol
lect the conquerors, despots, bigots, unjust
conspirators, and signal villains of every
class, who have blasted society by the re-
lentless vigor which could act consistently
and heroically wrong. Till therefore the
virtue of mankind be greater, there is rea-
son to be pleased that so few of them are
endowed with extraordinary decision.
■ When this character is dignified by wis-
dom and principle, great care is yet requir-
ed in the possessors of it to prevent it from
becoming unamiable. As it involves much
practical assertion of superiority over other
human beings, the manner ought to be as
mild and conciliating as possible ; else pride
will feel provoked, affection hurt, and weak-
ness oppressed. But this manner is not the
one which will be most natural to such a
man; rather it will be that of sternness,
rejserve, and incompliance. He will have
the appearance of keeping himself always
at a distance from social equality ; and his
friends will feel as if their friendship were
continually sliding into subserviency ; while
his intimate connections will think he does
not attach the due importance either to their
opinions or to their regard. His manner,
when they differ from him. or complain,
will be in danger of giving the impression

of careless inattention, and sometimes of
disdain.

When he can accomplish a design in his
own person alone, he may separate himself
to tlie work with the cold, self-inclosed indi-
viduality on Avhich no one has any hold,
which seems to recognise no kindred being
in the world, which takes little account of
good wishes and kind concern, any more
than it cares lor opposition ; which seeks
neither aid nor sympathy, and which seems
to say, I do |iot want any of you, and I am
glad that I do not ; leave me alone to suc-
ceed or die. This has a very repellant
effect on the friends who wished to feel
themselves of some importance, in some
way or other, to a person whom they are
constrained to respect. When assistance
is indispensable to his imdertakings, his
mode of signifying it will seem rather to
command the co-operation, than to invite it.

In consultation, his manner will indicate
that when he is equally with the rest in
possession of the circumstances of the case,
he does not at all expect to hear any opin-
ions that shall correct his own ; but is satis-
fied that either his present conception of the
subject is the just one, or that his own mind
must originate that which shall be so. This
striking difference Avill be apparent between
him and his associates, that their manner of
receiving his opinions is that of agreement
or dissent ; his manner of receiving theirs
is that of sanction or rejection. He has tlie
tone of authoritatively deciding on what
they say, but never of submitting to decision
of what himself says. Their coincidence
with his views does not give him a firmer
assurance of his being right, nor their dis-
sent any other impression than that of their
incapacity to judge. If his feeling took
the distinct form of a reflection, it would
be, Mine is the business of comprehending
and devising, and I am here to rule this
company, and not to consult them ; I want
their docility and not their arguments ; I
am come, not to seek their co-operation in
thinking, but to determine their concurrence
in executing what is already thought for
them. Of course, many suggestions and
reasons which appear important to those
from whom they come, will be disposed of
by him with a transient attention, or a light
facility, that will seem very disrespectful to
persons who possibly hesitate to admit that
he is a demigod, and that they are but
idiots. Lord Chatham, in going out of the
House of Commons, just as one of the
speakers against him concluded his speech
by emphatically urging what he perhaps
riglitly thought the unanswerable question,
" Where can wo find means to support such
a Avar?" turned round a moment, and gaily
replied, " Gentle shepherd, tell me where."
Even the assenting convictions, and prac-

FOSTER ON DECISION,

tical compliances, yielded by degrees to this
decisive man, may be somewhat under
valued, as they will appear to him no more
than simply coming, and that perhaps very
slowly, to a right apprehension ; whereas
himself understood and decided justly from
the first, and has been right all this while.

He will be in danger of extending but
little tolerance to the prejudices, hesitation,
and timidity, of those with whom he has to
act. He will say to himself, I wish there were
any thing like manhood among the beings
called men ; and that they could have the
sense and spirit not to let themselves be
hampered by so many silly notions and
childish fears. Why cannot they either
determine with some promptitude, or let
me, that can, do it for them ? Am I to wait
till debility become strong, and folly wise ?
If full scope be allowed to these tendencies,
tliey will make even a man of elevated
virtue a tyrant, who, in the consciousness of
the right intention, and the assurance of the
wise contrivance, of his designs, will hold
himself justified in being regardless of every
thing but the accomplishment of them. He
will forget all respect for the feelings and
liberties of beings who are to be regarded
as but a subordinate machinery, to be actu-
ated, or to be thrown aside when not actu-
ated, by the spring of his commanding
spirit.

I have before asserted that this strong
character may be exhibited with a mildness
of maimer, and that generally, it will thus
best secure its efficacy. But this mildness
must often be at the cost of great effort
and how much considerate policy or benev-
olent forbearance it will require, for a man
to exert his utmost vigor in the very task,
as it will appear to him at the time, of
cramping that vigor ! Lycurgus appears
to have been a high example of mild pa-
tience in the firm prosecution of designs
which were to be effected among a perverse
multitude.

It is probable that the men most distin-
guished for decision, have not, in general,
possessed a large share of tenderness ; and
it is easy to imagine that the laws of our
nature will with great difficulty allow the
combination of the refined sensibilities with
a hardy, never-shrinking, never-yielding
constancy. Is it not almost of the essence
of this constancy to be free from even the
perception of such impressions as cause a
mind, weak through susceptibility, to relax
or waver ; just as the skin of the elephant,
or the armor of the rhinoceros, would be
but indistinctly sensible to the application
of a force by which a small animal, with a
skin of thin and delicate texture, would be
pierced or lacerated to death ? No doubt,
this firmness consists partly in overcoming
feelings, but it may consist partly too in not

having them. To be tremblingly alive to
gentle impressions, and yet to be able to
preserve, when the prosecution of a design
requires it, an immoveable heart, amidst
the most imperious causes of subduing
emotion, is perhaps not an impossible con-
stitution of mind, but it must be the rarest
endowment of humanity.

If you take a view of the first rank of
decisive men, you will observe that their
faculties have been too much bent to ardu-
ous effort, their souls have been kept in too
military an attitude, they have been begirt
with too much iron, for the melting move-
ments of the heart. Their whole being
appears too much arrogated and occupied
by the spirit of severe design, compelling
them to work systematically toward some
defined end, to be sufficiently at ease for
the indolent complacency, the soft lassitude,
of gentle affections, which love to surrender
themselves to the present felicities, forgetful
of all " enterprises of great pith and mo-
ment." The man seems rigorously intent
still on his own affairs, as he walks, or re-
gales, or mingles with domestic society ;
and appears to despise all the feelings that
will not take rank with the grave labors and
decisions of intellect, or coalesce with the
unremitting passion which is his spring of
action: he values not feelings which he
cannot employ either as weapons or as
engines. He loves to be actuated by a
passion so strong as to compel into exercise
the utmost force of his being, and fix him
in a tone, compared with which, the gentle
affections, if he had felt them, would be
accounted tameness, and their exciting
causes, insipidity.

Yet we cannot willingly allow that ten-
derness is totally incompatible with the most
impregnable inflexibility ; nor can we help
believing that such men as Timoleon, Al-
fred, and Gustavus Adolphus, must have
been very fascinating domestic associates,
whenever the urgency of their affairs would
allow them to withdraw from the interests
of statesmen and warriors, to indulge the
affections of men ; most fascinating, for,
with a relative or friend who had any right
perceptions, all the value of their stronger
character would be recognized in the gen-
tler one ; the man whom nothing could sub-
due, would exalt the quality of the tender-
ness which softened him to recline.

But it were much easier to enumerate a
long train of ancient and modern names of
men, who have had the decision witliout the
softness. Perhaps indeed they have yield-
ed sometim.es to some species of love, as a
mode of amusing their passions for an in-
terval, till greater engagements have sum-
moned them into tJieir proper element;
when they have shown how little the senti-
ment ever belonged to the heart, by the case

FOSTER ON DECISION.

with which they could relinquish the tern
porary favorite. In other cai«cs, where
tliore have not been the selfish inducements,
whicli this passion supplies, to the cxliibi
fion of something like softness, and where
they have been left, to the pure sympathies
of iunuanity alone, no rock on the face of
the earth could be harder.

The celebrated King of Prussia occurs
to nie, as a capital instance of the decisive
character ; and there occurs to me, at the
same time, one of the anecdotes of his life.*
Intending to make, in the night, an impor-
tant movement in his camp, which was in
sight of tlie enemy, he gave orders that by
eight o'clock all the lights in the camp
should be put out, on pain of death. The
Kiomcnt (hat the time was past, he walked
out himself to see whether all were dark.
He found a light in the tent of a Captain
Zietern, which he entered just as the officer
was folding up a letter. Zietern loiew him,
and instantly fell on his knees to entreat his
mercy. The King asked to whom he had
been Avriting ; he said it was a letter to his
wife, which he had retained the candle these
few minutes beyond the time in order to
finish. The King coolly ordered him to
rise, and write one line more which he
should dictate. This line was to inform his
wife, without any explanation, that by such
an hour the next day, he should be a dead
man. The letter was then sealed, and de-
spatched as it had been intended ; and, the
next day, the Captain was executed. I say
nothing of the justice of the punishment
itself; but this cool barbarity to the affec-
tion both of the officer and his wife, was
enough to brand the character indelibly.
It proved how little the decisive hero and
pretended philosopher was susceptible of
such an affection, or capable of sympathiz-
ing with its pains.

At the same time, it is proper to observe,
that the case may easily occur, in which a
man must be resolute to act in a manner
which may make him appear to want the
finer feelings. He must do what he knows
will cause pain to persons who will feel it
severely. He may be obliged to resist
affectionate wishes, expostulations, entreat-
ies, and tears. Take this same instance.
If the wife of Zietern had come to suppli-
cate for him, not only the remission of the
punishment of death, but an exemption

■ The .lutlienticity of this anecdote, which I road in
some Iriding fiigitivc publication many years since.
has been questioned. Possibly enough it inistit be
one of the many bul lialf-true stories which could iml
fail to go abroad concerning a man who made, in his
day, so great a figure. Hut as it does not nt all misrejire-
sent the general character of his mind, since there are
many incontrovertible facts proving against him a.s
creat a degree of deliberate cruelty .as this anecdote
would charge on him, the want of means to prove (his
one fact doe.s not seem to impose any necessity for
omitting the illustration.

from any other severe punishment, which
was perhaps justly due to the violation of
such an order, on so important an occasion,
it had then probably been the duty and the
virtue of the commander to deny the most
interesting suppliant, and to resist the most
pathetic appeals which could have been
made to his leelmgs.

LETTER VI.

Circumstances tending to consolidate this
Character. Opposition. Desertion. Ma-
rius. Satan. Charles de Moor. Suc-
cess has the same Tendency. Ccesar.
Habit of associating wilfi, Inferiors.
Voluntanj means of forming or confrm-
ing this Character. The Acquisition of
perfect Knowledge in the Department in
which roe are to act. The cultivation of
a connected and conclusive Manner of
reasoning. The resolute commencement
of Action, in a Manner to commit our-
selves irretrievably. Ledyard. The
choice of a dignified Order of Concerns.
The Approbation of Conscience. Yet
melancholy to consider how many of the
most distinguished Possessors of the
Quality have been wicked.

Various assignable circumstances may
contribute much to confirm the character in
question. I shall just notice two or three.

And first, opposition. The passions which
inspirit men to resistance, and sustain them
in it, such as anger, indignation, and re-
sentment, are evidently far stronger than
those which have reference to friendly ob-
jects ; and if any of these strong passions
are frequently excited by opposition, they
infuse a certain quality into the general
temperament of the mind, which remains
after the immediate excitement is past.
They continually strengthen the principle
of rc-action ; they put the mind in the ha-
bitual array of defence and self-afesertion,
and often give it the aspect and the posture
of a gladiator, when there appears no con-
fronting condiatant. When these passions
are felt by the man whom I describe, it is
probable that each excitement is folloAvcd
by a greater increase of tJiis principle of
re-action than in other men, because this
result is so congenial with his naturally
resolute disposition. Let him be opposed
then, through the whole course of an ex-
tended design, or in the general tenor of his
actions ; and this constant opposition would
render him the service of an ally by cor-
roborating his inflexibility. An irresolute
mind indeed might be quelled, and subju-
gated by a formidable kind of opposition ;
but the strong wind which blows out a ta-

t'OSTER ON DECISION.

per, augments a powerful fire, if there is
fuel enough, to an indefinite intensity.

I beheve you will find in fact that many
of the individuals most eminently decisive
in conduct, have made their way through
opposition and contest ; in which they have
acquired both a prompt acuteness of faculty,
and an inflexibility of temper, which even
strong minds could never have attained in
the tame security of facile, friendly coinci-
dence. Very often, however, it is granted,
the firmness matured by such discipline is
accompanied, in a man of virtue, with a
Catonic severity, and in a mere man of the
world, with an unhumanized, repulsive
hardness.

Desertion is another cause which may
•conduce to consolidate this chararcter. A
Itind, mutually reclining dependence, is cer-
tainly the happiest state of human beings ;
but this necessarily prevents the develop-
ment of some great individual powers which
would be forced into action by a state of
desertion. I lately happened to notice,
with some surprise, an ivy, which being
presented from attaching itself to the rock
beyond a certain point, had shot off' into a
bold, elastic stem, with an air of as much
independence as any branch of oak in the
vicinity. So a human being, thrown, wheth-
er by cruelty, justice, or accident, from all
social support and kindness, if he has any
vigor of spirit, and is not in the bodily de-
bility of either childhood or age, will in-
stantly begin to act for himself with a reso-
lution which will appear like a new faculty.
And the most absolute inflexibility is likely
to characterize the resolution of an individ-
ual who is obliged to deliberate without
consultation, and execute without assistance.
He will disdain to concede to beings that
have rejected him, or to forego a single
particle of his designs or advantages, tor
the sake of the opinions or the will of all
the world. Himself, his pursuits, and his
interests, are emphatically his own. " The
world is not his friend, nor the world's law,"
and therefore he becomes regardless of
every thing but its power, of which his
policy carefully takes the measure, in order
to ascertain his own means of action and
impunity, as set against the world's means
of annoyance, prevention, and retaUation.

If this person has but Httle humanity or
principle, he will become a misanthrope, or
perhaps a villain, that will resemble a soli-
tary wild beast of the night, which makes
prey of every thing it can overpower, and
cares for nothing but fire. If he is capable
of grand conception and enterprise, he may,
like Spartacus, make a daring attempt
against the whole social order of the state
where he heis been oppressed. If he has
great humanity and principle, he may be-
come one of the noblest of mankind, and

Vol. 3.— C.

display a generous virtue to which society
had no claim, and which it is not worthy to
reward, if it should at last become inclined.
No, he will say, give your rewards to
another ; as it has been no part of my ob-
ject to gain them, they are not necessary to
my satisfaction. I have done good, without
expecting your gratitude, and without car-
ing for your approbation. If conscience
and my Creator had not been more auspi-
cious than you, none of these virtues would
ever have opened to the day. When I
ought to have been an object of your com-
passion, I might have perished ; now, when
you find I can serve your interests, you will
affect to acknowledge me and reward me ;
I will not accept your rewards. In either
case, virtuous or wicked, the man who has
been compelled to do without assistance,
will spurn interference.

Common life would supply illustrations of
the effect of desertion. Some of the most
resolute men have become such, partly from
being left friendless in early life. The case
has also sometimes happened, that a wife
and motlier, remarkable perhaps for gentle-
ness and acquiescence before, has been
compelled, after the death of her husband
on whom she depended, and when she has
met with nothing but neglect or unkindness
from relatives and those who had been
deemed friends, to adopt a plan of her own,
and has executed it with a resolution which
has astonished even herself

One regrets that the signal examples, real
or fictitious, that most readily present them-
selves, are still of the depraved order. I
fancy myself to see Marius sitting on the
ruins of Carthage, where no arch or column
that remained unshaken amidst the desola-
tion, could present a stronger image of a
firmness beyond the power of calamitous
events to subdue. The rigid constancy
which had before distinguished his charac-
ter, would be aggravated by his finding
himself thus an outcast from all human
society; and he would proudly shake off"
every sentiment that had ever for an instant
checked his designs by reminding him of
social obligations. The lonely individual
was placed in the alternative of becoming
tlie victim or the antagonist of the power
of the empire. While, with a spirit capa-
ble of confronting that power, he resolved,
amidst those ruins, on a great experiment,
he would enjoy a kind of sullen luxury in
surveying the dreary situation, and recol-
lecting the circumstances of his expulsion ;
since they would seem to him to sanction
an unlimited vengeance; to present what
had been his country as the pure legitimate
prize for desperate achievement; and to
give him a proud consequence in being re-
duced to maintain singly a quarrel against
the bulk of mankind. He would exult that

FOSTER ON DECISION.

his desolate condition gave him a proof of
liis possessing a mind which no misfortunes
could repress or intimidate, and that it kin-
dled an animosity intense enough to force
that mind from firm endurance into impetu-
ous action. He would feel as if he became
stronger for enterprise, in proportion as he
became more inexorable ; and the senti-
ment with wiiich he quitted his solitude
would be, Rome expelled her patriot, let
her receive her evil genius.

The decision of Satan, in Paradise Lost,
is represented as consolidated by his reflec-
tions on his hopeless banishment from heav-
en, which oppress him with sadness for a
moment, but he soon resumes his invincible
spirit, and utters the impious but sublime
sentiment,

" What matter where, if /be still the same."

You remember how this effect of deser-
tion is represented in Charles de Moor,
lither's supposed cruel rejection con

signed him irretrievably to the career of
atrocious enterprise, in which, notwith
standing the most interesting emotions oi'
humanity and tenderness, he persisted witli
heroic determination till he considered his
destiny as accomphshed

Success tends considerably to reinforce
this cliaracter. It is true that a man pos-
sessing it in a high degree will not lose it
by occasional failure : for if the failure was
caused by something entirely beyond the
reach of all human knowledge and ability,
he will remember that fortitude is the virtue
required in meeting unl'avoral)le events
which in no sense depended on him ; if by
something which might have been known
and prevented, he will feel that even the
experience of failure completes his compe-
tence, by admonishing his prudence, and
enlarging his understanding. But as all
schemes and measures ol action have refer-
ence to some end, and if wise, are correctly
adapted to attain that end, continual failure
would .show something essentially wrong in
a man's system, and either destroy his con-
fidence, or prove it to be mere absurdity or
obstinacy. On the contrary, when a man
has ascertained by experiment the justness
of his calculations and the extent of his
powers, when he has metisured his force
with various persons, when he has braved
;md conquered difficulty, and partly seized
the prize, he will advance with increasing
assurance to the trials which still await him

In some men whose lives htive been
spent in constant perils, continued success
lias produced a confidence beyond its ra-
tional effect, by inspiring a persuasion that
the common laws of human afftiirs were,
in their case, superseded by the decrees of
a peculiar destiny, securing them from
almost the possibility of disaster ; and this

superstitious feeling, though it has displa-
ced the unconquerable resolution from its
rational basis, has yet often produced the
most wonderful effects. Tiiia persuasion
dictated Caesar's expression to the mariner
who was terrified at the storm and billows,
" What art thou afraid of? Thy vessef
carries Ctpsar." This id«a had some in-
fluence among the intrepid men in tlie time
of the English Commonwealth.

The wilfulness of an obstinate person is
sometimes fortified by some single instance
of remarkable success in his undertakings,
which is promptly recalled in every case
where his decisions are questioned or op-
posed, as a proof that he must in this in-
stance too be right ; especially if that one
success happened contrary to your predic-
tions.

I shall only add, and without illustration,
that the habit of associating with inferiors,
among whom a man can always, and there-
fore does always, take the lead, is very con-
ducive to a subordinate kind oi" decision of
character. You may see this exemphfied
any day in an ignorant countr)'^ 'squire
among his vassals ; especially if he wears
the superadded majesty of Justice of the
Peace.

In viewing the characters and actions of
the men who have possessed the supreme
degree of the quality which I have attempt-
ed to describe, one cannot but wish it were
possible to know how much of tliis aston-
ishing superiority was created by the cir
cumstances in which they were placed ;
but it seems inevitable to believe that there
was some vast difference from ordinary
men in the very strvicture of the mind. In
observing lately a man who appeared too
vacant almost to think of a purpose, too
indifferent to resolve upon it, and too slug-
gish to execute it if he had resolved. I
was distinctly struck with the idea of the
difference between him and Marius, of
whom I happened to have been thinlcing ;
and I felt it utterly beyond my power to
believe tliat any circumstances on earth,
though ever so perfectly combined and
adapted, would have produced in this man,
if placed under their fullest influence from
his childhood, any resemblance (beyond
perhaps a diminutive kmd of revenge and
cruelty) of the formidtible Roman.

It is needless to discuss whether a person
who is practically evinced, at the iige of
m;iturit>% to want ihe stamina of this char-
acter, can, by any process, acquire it. In-
deed such a person cannot have sufficient
force of will to make the complete experi-
ment. If there is the unconquerable will
that would persist to seize all possible means,
and apply them in order to attain such an
erid, it would prove tiie existence already
of a high degree of tlie character sought ;

FOSTER ON DECISION.

and if there is not this will, how tlien is the
Supposed attainment possible ?

Yet though it is improbable that a very
irresolute man can never become a habit-
ually decisive one, it should be observed,
tliat since there are many degrees of deter-
mined character, and since the essential
Srinciples of it, partially existing in those
egrees, cannot be supposed subject to an
absolute and ultimate limitation, like the
dimension of the bodily stature, it might
"be possible to apply a discipline which
should advance a man from the first degree
to the second, and from that to the third,
and how much further — it will be well worth
his trying, after he shall have made this
first progress. I have but a very imper-
fect conception of the discipline; butwill
suggest a hint or two.

And in the first place, the indispensable
necessity of a clear and comprehensive
knowledge of the concerns before us, seems
too obvious for remark 5 and yet no man
has been sufficiently sensible of it, till he
has been placed in circumstances which
forced him to act before he had time, or
after he had made ineffectual efforts, to ob-
tain the needful information. The pain of
having brought things to an unfortunate
issue, is hardly greater than that of pro-
ceeding in the conscious ignorance which
continually threatens such an issue. While
thus proceeding without plan or guide, be-
cause he positively cannot be permitted to
remain in inaction, a man looks round for
information as eagerly as a benighted wan-
derer would for t!ie light of a human dwell-
ing. He perhaps labors to recal what he
■thinks he once heard or read in relation to
a similar situation, without dreaming at the
time he heard or read it, that such nistruc-
•tion could ever be of importance to him ;
and is distressed to find that he cannot ac-
curately recollect it. He would give a con-
siderable sum, if some particular book could
be brought to him at the instant ; or a cer-
tain document which he believes to be in
existence ; or the detail of a process, the
term.s of a prescription, or the model of an
implement. He thinks how many people
know, without its being of any present use
to them, exactly what could be of such im-
portant service to him, if he could know it.
In some cases, a line, a sentence, a mono-
syllable of affirming or denying, or a mo-
jnentary sight of an object, would be inex-
pressibly valuable and welcome. And he
resolves that if he can once happily escape
from the present difficulty, he will apply
liimself day and night to obtain laiowledge,
rather than be so involved and harrassed
again. It might even be of service to have
been occasionally forced to act under the
disadvantage of conscious ignorance, if tlie
affair wtib not very important, nor the con-

sequence very injurious, as an effectual les-
son on the necessity of knowledge in order
to decision either of plan or execution. It
is indeed an extreme case that will compel
a considerate man to act without knowl-
edge ; yet he may often be necessitated to
proceed to action, when he is sensible his
information does not extend to the whole of
the concern in which he is going to commit
himself And in this case, he will feel no
little uneasiness, while transacting that part
of it in which his knowledge is competent,
when he looks forward to the point where
tliat knowedge terminates ; luiless he is con-
scious of a very prompt faculty of catching
information at the moment that he wants it
for use ; as Indians set out on a long jour-
ney with but a small stock of provision, be-
cause they are certain that their bows or
guns will procure it by the way. It is one
of the nicest points of wisdom to decide
how much less than complete knowledge,
in any question of practical interest, will
warrant a man to venture on an undertak-
ing, in the presumption that the deficiency
will be supplied in time to prevent either
perplexity or disaster.

A tlaousand familiar instances show the
efi'ect of perfect knowledge on determina-
tion. An artizan may be said to be deci-
sive as to the mode of working a piece of
iron or wood, because he is certain of the
proper process and the effect. A man per-
fectly acquainted with the intricate paths
of a district, takes the right one without a
moment's hesitation ; while a stranger who
has only some very vague information,
is lost in perplexity. It is easy to imagine
what a number of circumstances may oc-
cur in the course of a life or even of a year,
in which a man cannot thus readily deter-
mine, and thus confidently proceed, without
an extent and exactness of knowledge which
few persons have application enough to ac-
quire.

In connection with the necessity of knowl-
edge, I would suggest the importance of
cultivating, witli the utmost industry, a con-
clusive manner of reasoning. In the first
place, let the general course of thinking be
reasoning; for it should be remembered
that this name does not belong to a series
of thoughts and fancies which follow one
another without deduction or dependence,
and which can therefore no more bring a
subject to a proper issue, than a number of
separate links will answer the mechanical
purpose of a chain. The conclusion which
terminates such a series, does not deserve
the name of result, since it has little more
than a casual connection with what went
before ; the conclusion might as well have
taken place at an earlier point of the train,
or have been deferred till that train had
been extended much further. Instead of

POSTER ON DECISION.

having been busily employed in this kind
of thinking, for perhaps many hours, a man
might as well have been sleeping all the
time ; since the single thought which is now
to determine his conduct, might have hap-
pened to be the first thought that occurred
to him on awaking. It only happetis to oc-
cur to him now; it does not follow from
what he has been thinking all these hours ;
at least, he cannot prove that some other
thought might not just as properly have
come in its place, at the end of this long
series. It is easy to see how feeble that
determination is likely to be, which is form-
ed on so narrow a ground as the last acci-
dental idea that comes into the mind, or on
80 loose a ground as this crude uncombined
assemblage of ideas. Indeed it is difficult
to form a determination at all on such slight
ground. A man delays, and waits for some
more satisfactory thought to occur to him ;
and perhaps he has not waited long, before
an idea arises in his mind of a quite con-
trary tendency to the last. As this addi-
tional idea is not, more than that which pre-
ceded it, the result of any process of reason-
ing, nor brings with it any arguments, it is
likely to give place soon to another, and
still another ; and tliey are all in succession
of equal authority, that is, of none. If at
last an idea occurs to him which seems of
considerable authority, he may here make
a stand, and adopt his resolution, with firm-
ness, as he thinks, and commence the exe-
cution. But still, as he cannot verify the
authority of the principle which has deter-
mined him, his resolution is likely to prove
treacherous and evanescent in any serious
trial. A principle so little defined and es-
tablished by sound reasoning, is not terra
firma for a man to trust himself upon ; it is
only as a slight incrustation on a yielding
element ; it is like the sand on the surface
of the lake Serbonis, which broke away
under the unfortunate army which had be-
gun to advance on it, mistaking it for solid
ground. — These remarks may seem to re-
fer only io^ single instance of deliberation ;
but they are equally applicable to all the
deliberations and undertakings of a man's
life : the same closely connected manner
of thinking, which is so necessary to give
firmness of determination and of conduct
in a particular instance, will if habitual,
greatly contribute to form a decisive char-
acter.

Not only should thinking be thus reduced
by a rigid discipline, to a train, in which all
the parts at once depend upon and support
one another, but also this train should be
followed on to a full conclusion. It should
be held as an absolute law, that the ques-
tion must be disposed of before it is let
alone. The mind may carry on this accu

rate process to some length, and then stop
through indolence, or divert tlirough levity ;
but it can never possess that rational con-
fidence in its opinions which is requisite to
the character in question, till it is conscious
of acquiring them from trains of reasoning
which are followed on to their result. The
habit of thinking thus completely is indis-
pensable to the character in general ; and in
any particular instance, it is found that short
pieces of trains of reasoning, though correct
as far as they go, are inadequate to qualify
a man for the immediate concern. They
are besides of little value for the assistance
of future thinking ; because from being left
thus incomplete, they are but slightly re-
tained by the mind, and soon sink away;
in the same manner as walls left unfinished
speedily moulder.

After these remarks, I should take occa-
sion to observe, that a vigorous exercise of
thought may sometimes for a while seem
to increase the difficulty of decision, by dis-
covering a great number of unthought-of
reasons for a measure and against it, so
that even a discriminating mind may, dur-
ing a short space, find itself in the state of
the magnetic needle under the equator.
But no case in the world can really have
this perfect equality of opposite reasons ;
nor will it long appear to have it, in the es-
timate of a clear and strongly exerted in-
tellect, which after some time will ascertain,
though the difference is small, Avhich side of
the question has twenty, and which haa
but nineteen.

Another thing that would powerfully as-
sist toward complete decision, both in the
particular instance, and in the general spirit
of the character, is for a man to place him-
self in a situation like that in which Cajsar
placed his soldiers, when he burnt the ships
which brought them to land. If hi.s judg-
ment is really decided, let him commit him-
self irretrievably by doing something which
shall compel him to do more, which shall
necessitate him to do all. If a man re-
solves as a general intention to be a phi-
lanthropist, I would say to him. Form some
actual plan of philanthropy, and begin the
execution of it to-morrow, (perhaps I should
say to-day,) so explicitly, that you cannot
relinquish it without becoming despicable
even in your own estimation. If a man
would be a hero, let him, if it is possible to
find a good cause in arms, go instantly to
the camp. If a man would be a traveller
through distant countries, let him actually
prepare to set off. Let him not still dwell,
in imagination, on mountains, rivers, and
temples ; but give directions about his re-
mittances, his clothes, or the carriage, or
the vessel, in which he is to go. Ledyard
surprised the official person who asked him

ORIGIN OF INFANT BAPTISM AND COMMUNION, gj

how soon he could be ready to set off for
the interior of Africa, by replying promptly
and firmly, " To-morrow."

Again, it is highly conducive to a manly
firmness, that the interests in which it is ex-
erted, should be of a dignified order, so as
to give tlie passions an ample scope, and
a noble object. The degradation that
should devote these passions to mean and
trivial pursuits, would in general, I should
think, likewise debilitate their energy,
and therefore preclude strength of charac-
ter.

And finally, if I would repeat that one
should think a man's own conscientious ap-
probation of his conduct must be of vast
importance to his decision in the outset, and
his persevering constancy, I must at the
same time acknowledge that it is astonish-
ing to observe how many of the eminent
examples have been very wicked men.
These must certainly be deemed also ex-
amples of the original want, or the depra-

vation, or the destruction, of the moral
sense.

I am sorry, and I attribute it to the de-
fect of memory, that a greater proportion
of the illustrations introduced in this essay,
are not as conspicuous for goodness as for
power. It is melancholy to contemplate
beings, whom our imagination represents
as capable, (when they possessed great ex-
ternal means in addition to the force of
their minds,) of the grandest utility, capa-
ble of vindicating each good cause which
has languished in a world adverse to all
goodness, and capable of intimidating the
collective vices of a nation or an age — be-
coming themselves the very centres and
volcanoes of those vices ; and it is melan-
choly to follow them in serious thought,
from this region, of which not all the pow-
ers and diificulties and inhabitants togeth-
er could have subdued their adamantine res-
olution, to the Supreme Tribunal where that
resolution must tremble and melt away.

fitC. AfKjft^/

ORIGIN OF 'V'^:^SOL.Ogj0^

INFANT BAPTISM AND COMMUNIONt;*^^

In the third century there is clear evi-
dence of infant baptism and infant commun-
ion. In ecclesiastical history, these two
practices may be traced to the same origin,
and they are both supported by tlie same
arguments. In proof of this we will cite
some authorities.

Says St. Austin, " No one who professes
himself a Christian of the catholic faith denies
or doubts, that children, without receiving
the grace of regeneration in Christ, and
without eating his flesh and drinking his
blood, (i. e. without baptism and the Lord's
supper) have not life in them, and there-
fore are liable to everlasting punishment."
Would Austin, do we think, ever talk after
this rate, unless he knew it to have been the
practice of the eastern as well as the west-
ern churches to give the Lord's supper to
children ? and very remarkable is another
passage of St. Austin, which Dr. Wall has
taken notice of, and thus translated — " The
Christians of Airica do Avell call baptism
itself one's salvation ; and the sacrament of
Christ's body one's life. From whence is
this, but, as I suppose, from that ancient
and apoetolical tradition, by which the

churches of Christ do naturally hold that
without baptism and partaking of the Lord's
table, none can come, either to the kingdom
of God, or to salvation and eternal life ?
For the scripture, as I showed before, says
the same." This is without doubt, clear
evidence that St. Austin was satisfied that
infant communion was as necessary and as
much apostolic as inl'ant baptism. All
agree that the false construction of the pas-
sage in the 6th chap, of John, 53d verse,
"except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man,
and drink his blood, ye have no life in you,"
was the erroneous ground on which they
placed the necessity of infant communion.
On a similar perversion of certain texts,
which speak of baptism, they ground the
necessity of imposing this rite on infants.
History traces both these ceremonies to one
common origin, namely, necessity ; and sup-
ports both by the same process of argu-
ment.

It seems then impossible to invalidate the
the historic argimients for infant commun-
ion, without ruining to the same extent
the arguments in favor of infant baptism. —
Dr. Giapin^s Letters.

THE

TRAVELS

TRUE GODLINESS.

By benjamin KEACH.

C H AP T E R I.

IVhat True Godliness is. His Origin and
Antiquity.

True Godliness being a great stranger
to most men, and indeed known but by few,
I shall, in the first place, before I treat of
his travels, and of the entertainment he
meets with, give you a description of him ;
because many persons are subject to so
great an error, as to take Morality for him :
some also take Counterfeit Godliness for
him ; and others, out of ignorance, (to say
no worse,) rail, and ignominiously call him
Singularity. Stubbornness, Pride and lie-
hellion, as if he were not fit to live, he be-
ing considered a seditious disturber of king-
doms, cities, towns and villages, wherever
he comes ; yea, such a factious and quar-
relsome companion, that he is indeed the
cause of all those unhappy differences, di-
visions, troubles, and miseries, that are in
the world. I conclude, therefore, nothing
is more necessary, than to take off that
mask which his implacable enemies have
put upon him, and clear him of all unjust
slanders, and reproaches of the sons of
Belial ; so that he may appear in his own
original and spotless innocency, that none
may be afraid of him, or be unwilling to
entertain him, nor ashamed to own him, and
make him their bosom companion.

Know, therefore, in the first place, that
Godliness consists in the right knowledge
of divine truths, or fundamental principles
of the Gospel, which all raeo ought to know,

and be established in, that would be saved.
Without controversy, " great is the myste-
tery of godliness. God manifested in the
flesh, justified in the spirit, seen of angels,
preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in
the world, and received up to glory." 1 Tim.
iii. 16. These great trutlis of the Cliristian
religion, are called Godliness.

Now, should any demand farther to hear
more particularly what those principles of
divine truth, or fundamentals of the Chris-
tian faith be, which are the essentials of
True Godliness, I answer,

1. That there is one eternal, infinite,
most holy, most wise, just, good and gra-
cious God, or glorious Deity, subsisting in
three distinct persons — the Father, the Son,
and the Holy Ghost ; and these are one —
that is, one in essence.

2. That this God, out of his great love
and goodness, hath given us one sure, and
infallible rule of faith and practice, viz. the
Holy Scriptures, by which we may know,
not only that there is a God and Creator^
but the manner of the creation of the world^
and of all things, in six days ; together with,
the design, or reason, wheretbre he made
all things ; and also to show us how sin
came into the world, and what righteous-
ness it is which God's holy nature requires,
to our justification, or discharge from the
guilt of sin, &c. viz : by a Redeemer — his
own Son, whom he sent into the world ;
and that there is no other rule or way to
know these things, so as for men to be sav-
ed, but by revelation, or the sacred records
of the holy Scriptures. And that the mys-
ter)' of salvation lies above human reason.

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

and cannot be known by the natural light in
men.

3. That our Redeemer, the Lord Jesus
Christ, who is the surety of the new cove-
nant, and only Mediator between God and
man, is truly God of the essence of the
Father, and truly man of the substance of
the virgin Mary, consisting of these two
natures in one person ; and that redemp-
tion, peace, and reconciliation, are by this
Lord Jesus Christ alone.

4. That justification and pardon of sin is
alone by that lull satisfaction which Christ
made to God's justice ; and tliat is appre-
hended by faith alone, through the Holy
Spirit.

5. That all men who are, or can be sav-
ed, must be renewed, regenerated, and sanc-
tified by tlie Holy Spirit.

6. That there will be a resurrection of
the bodies of all men at the last day.

7. That there will be an eternal judg
ment, that is, all shall be brought to the
tribunal of Jesus Clirist in the great day,
and give an account for all tilings done in
the body ; and that there will be a future
state of glory and eternal happiness of all
true believers, and of etei-nal torment and
.misery of all unbelievers and ungodly per-
sons, who live and die in their sins.

Now, I say, in the true knowledge and
belief of these principles (wJiich compre-
hend the fundamentals ef true rehgion, or
tlie Christian faith) does True Godliness
consist, as to his essential part.

Secondly, Godliness^ as to his inward
parts, is a holy conformity to these sacred
and divine principles, which natural men
understand not. True Godliness consists
in the light of supernatural truths and life
oi' grace, God manifesting himself in the
light of those glorious principles, and work-
ing the life of supernatural grace in the
soul by the Holy Ghost It consists in the
■saving and experimental knowledge of God
and Jesus Christ 5 in having the evil quali-
ties of the soul removed, and heavenly hab-
its infused in their room ; or in a gracious
conformity, disposition, and affection of the
heart to God, cleaving to all truths made
"known to us, finding the powerful influences
of the gospel and spirit of Christ upon us,
whereby our souls are brought into the im-
age and hkeness of his deatli and resurrec-
tion. This is True Godliness. Not a bare
livmg up to the natural principles of moral-
ity nor an historical, notional, or dogmati-
cal knowledge of the sacred gospel, and its
precepts, but in a laithful living up to the
principles of the gospel, discharging our
duties with as much readiness and faithful
ness towards God as towards man, so that
our conscience may be kept void of offence
towards both. Acts xxiv. 16.

It consists in forsaking every sin, and

loathing it as the greatest evil, and cleav-
ing to God in sincerity of heart, valuing him
above all ; and, from a principle of divine
love, being willingly subject to all his laws
and appointments. Godliness makes a man
say with the Psalmist, " Whom have I in
heaven but thee?" &c. Psal. Ixxiii. 25.
St. Austin saith, " He loves not Christ at
all, that loves him not above all." He that
entertains True Godliness, is as zealous lor
the work of religion, as for the wages of re-
ligion. Some there be, v/ho serve God,
that they may serve themselves upon God.
But a true Christian desires grace, not on-
ly that God would glorify him in heaven,
but that he may glorify God on earth. He
cries, " Lord, rather let me have a good
heart, than a great estate." Though he
loves many things beside God, yet he loves
nothing above God. This man fears sin
more than suffering, and therefore he will
suffer rather than sin.

Thirdly, That you may have a complete
and perfect knowledge of him, it may not
be amiss if I describe his form, together
with the very habiliments he continually
wears.

The external parts of True Godliness are
very beautiful ; and no wonder that they
are so, seeing he was fashioned by the wis-
dom of the only wise God our Saviour, the
works of whose hands are all glorious.
But this, viz. the formation of Godliness,
being one of the highest, and most admircy
ble contrivances of his eternal wisdom,
must of necessity excel in glory and amia-
bleness. His form and external beauty,
therefore, are such, that he needs no hu-
man artifice to paint or adorn him, or to il-
lustrate or set off his comeliness of coun-
tenance ; for there is nothing defective as
to his evangelical and apostohcal form, as
he came out of his great Creator's hands.
And as there is noticing from head to foot
that is superfluous, so every line and linea-
ment, vein, nerve and sinew of him, are in
such an exact and admirable order placed,
that to his beauty there can be no addition.
Every one, therefore, that adds too, or alters
any thing, touching the form of True God-
liness, mars and defiles instead of beautify-
ing. Besides, God hath strictly forbidden
any thing of tliis nature to be done. " Add
thou not unto his word, lest he reprove thee,
and thou be found a liar," (Prov. xxx. 6,)
by ascribing that to God which is none of
his. Do not the Papists call those super-
stitious and vain ceremonies used in their
church, by the name of God's worship?
And what is this less than putting a lie
upon him? Besides, it reflects vipon the
wisdom of God, to attempt to change or
alter any thing in the form of Godliness, as
if he did not know best how he himself
would be worshipped; but must be indebt-

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

ed to man for his help, wisdom, and con-
trivances, touching many things that are
called decent and necessary. And does it
not reflect upon the care and faithfulness
of God, to suppose that he should not him-
self take care to lay down in his blessed
word, things which are all necessary to the
form of Godliness, without weak man's care
and wisdom, to supply what he should
omit?

All, therefore, may perceive, that True
Godliness never changes his countenance :
he is the very same, and not altered in the
least from the aspect he bore in primitive
times; nay, and there is indeed nothing
more foreign to him than those pompous
garbs, superstitious vestments, images, cross-
ings, salt, oil, holy water, and other cere-
monies, which are by many thought neces-
sary to his existence. Therefore take heed
you do not mistake the counterfeit form of
Godliness for the true one. It is only ne-
cessary to note one thing more, viz. you
must be sure to receive the power of God-
liness with his form ; for his form, without
his inward life and power, will do you no
good : it is but as the body without the soul,
or the shell without the kernel, or the cab-
inet without the jewel. Neither ought any
to slight his i'orm, for^you may remember
what the apostle speaks of " the form of
doctrine," Rom. vi. 17, and of" the form of
sound words," 2 Tim. i. 13, for as the true
faith must be held fast, so must the profess-
ion of it also. You may, it is true, meet
with a shell without the kernel ; but it is
rare to meet the kernel without the shell !

Having thus briefly given you the des-
cription both of the inside and outside pow-
er and form of Ti'ue Godliness, we shall
proceed to show you whose offspring he is.
By his name, (roii-Iiness, or G'orf-likeness,
we may discover from whence he descends,
and learn of what noble parentage he is.
He is indeed high-born, the great and glo-
rious offsjiring of the Lord Jehovah, the
Almighty Prince of heaven and earth, the
King of kings, the Lord of lords, the uni-
versal monarch of the world, whose king-
dom rulcth over all. And as this is his no-
ble extract, so likewise he is always in high
favor with his prince ; for there is not one
in heaven or earth, whom he loves more,
or in whom he takes more delight, than in
True Godliness ; nor is there any indeed
more like him, or that more represents him
in all the earth for he bears his express and
heavenly image ; yea, and such a venera-
ble respect and gracious esteem hath he
of him, that those who love him, he loves ;
those who hate him, he hates ; those who
receive him, he receives, and those who re-
ject him, he rejects; where he comes to
dwell, there God, Christ, and the Holy
Ghost dwell.

Godliness is of great antiquity: nay, ac-
cording to the description we gave you of
him, in the first place, we may well say, he
is without beginning of days, for Truth,
(sometimes he bears that name,) dwelt in
God from everlasting. But if we speak of
his antiquity, in respect of his dwelling here
below, the first man that knew him was
Adam ; who, whilst he stood in the state
of innocency, enjoyed his company, but by
the malice of a great and potent enemy he
was abused, and his image so defaced and
marred, that he forsook his habitation, which
was the ruin of our first parents, and their
whole posterity ; and had not the King of
heaven and eartli, through his infinite wis-
dom, provided a way to recover man from
his lost estate, Godliness had made his
abode no longer in this world ; for by means
of corruption of nature, there was brought
forth a monster whose name was Vice, oth-
erwise Ltist, who found so much favor
with Adam's children, that Godliness was
utterly discountenanced. Though he was
the offspring of Heaven, and the only de-
light of Jehovah, and unto man the great-
est friend and benefactor, striving to enrich
him, cheer his heart, and make him truly
noble and renowned on earth, and bring
him back into his primitive glory, and there-
by at last make him eternally happy in
heaven, yet he was so lamentably slighted,
that but one of Adam's oflTspring cared for
him at that time. And he, for entertaining
him with that just and good respect he de-
served was by his brother, whose name
was Cain, basely murdered. Godliness,
by this, perceived very early with what
kind of usage and entertainment amongst
the children of men he was likely to meet.
And truly never was there any one so no-
bly descended, and of such an excellent,
peaceable, a nature and behaviour, so dealt
with as Godliness hath been, from the be-
gimiing to this day, except the Prince of
Godliness himself Yet he found some
friends at'ter Abel was slain, who enter-
tained him kindly : and though they were
reproached, hated, and persecuted for show-
ing favor to him, yet they never lost by him,
but were infinite gainers ; nay, so great a
friend was he to the next man who emi-
nently embraced him, that he saved him
from the grave; he sent him to heaven
without calling at the gate of death. It is
impossible to describe what sweet and heav-
enly communion, true joy and felicity, this
good man had with Godliness, for the space
of three hundred years ; for so long they
abode together on earth, and now dwell to-
gether with the Father of Ti'ue Godliness,
and his only begotten Son in heaven. Some
time after this great Prince (for so they are
all made who entertain True Godliness,)
was carried to heaven, the dominion of Vice

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

became so complete, and the gtiilt of men
grew to such an awful magnitude that Je-
hovah was constrained to destroy them from
off the earth, by a fearful and amazing flood
of water. There was, at this time, but one
man on earth,(viz. Noah,) who was an em-
inent lover of Godliness, though it is not to
be doubted but his wife and sons especial-
ly two of them, were likewise in some
measure friends to him. Noah was com-
missioned to advocate the cause of virtue
and the character of True Godliness by
public preaching for one hundred and twen-
ty years ; but we are not informed of the
least impression being on any heart, so dom-
inant was sin.

But to proceed in this brief account of
the antiquity of Godliness, it will not be
amiss if we speak of the next renowned
man after Noah, Avho entertained him, and
how he was blessed in so doing : his name
at first was Abram, but afterwards Abra-
ham. This man lived for sometime amongst
a blind and idolatrous people, and was ig-
norant of True Godliness; but when he
became acquainted with him, (ew men ever
loved him better. He made him his bosom
companion, and chief delight (and so in-
deed must every one that entertains him ;)
and hereby he became great, and his glory
and renown were spread abroad. Indeed,
because he cherished True Godliness, he
was called the " friend of God," and the
father of all true lovers of Godliness : and
besides the outward blessings this faithful
man reaped as the fruit or reward of God-
li^iess, which were many, for he had much
cattle, men-servants, sheep, camels and
asses ; he was blessed also with all spiritu
al blessings, viz. he had sweet fellowship
and communion with God, and abounded
in faith, love, and joy in the Holy Ghost.

I might proceed further, and show you
who they were that entertained Godliness
in the succeeding ages, for the space of more
than two thousand year.?, what great bless-
ings he brought them, and what they suf-
fered for his sake ; but I can give you a
brief hint or two upon this account. Lot
was saved by him from the fire of Sodom,
for the angel could do nothing till Lot was
gone forth. Josepli suffered ibr him by his
envious brethren, but Godliness advanced
him for his integrity at last. David, for the
love he bare to him, was for many years
together, greatly persecuted, but ailerwards
Godliness raised him to great honor, made
him rich, and set a crown upon his head.

I might show how in ancient days, he
was very much hated and persecuted : some
of his true friends cast into a fiery furnace,
and another into a lion's den; yet they
never lost any thing by him, nor did they
ever repent the eniertaiument they gave
him. If we come into the times" of the'

Vol. 3.— D.

Gospel, it is well known what usage he meit
with in our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ,
and his blessed apostles. Afterwards, by
the heathen Emperors, he was most cruelly
hated and persecuted ; and those who en-
tertained him were put to all manner of
deaths and torments imaginable. Lastly,
we might show you what hard usage he
met with by Counterfeit Godliness, I mean
papistry, for near twelve hundred years ;
and how many of his dear children and
servants have, for the sake of him, been
burnt to death, and otherwise tormented, in
most nations in Europe. But what has
been said is sufiicient in relation to the an-
tiquity of True Godliness, and his various
treatment in former days.

CHAPTER 11.

The chief Enemies of Godliness.

Having given you a brief account of the
antiquity of True Godliness, and some of
those great abuses he met with in ancient
times, it may not be amiss, before I come to
treat of his Travels and entertainment in
these latter days, to give a description of
some of his chief adversaries, that true lov-
ers of Godliness may be aware of them ;
and those who have a mind to be acquaint-
ed with him, and are hindered from receiv-
ing him into their houses, may know the
cause and reason of it.

1. One of the chief enemies of thi« great
favorite of heaven, is the Devil ; nor is there
any one that hates him more.

2. Sin, or Vice, and as it is sometimes
termed. Lust.

3. The Flesh.

4. The World.

But this general description is not suffi-
cient to discover the great danger men are
in, by certain emissaries and servants of
those grand adversaries which many are
ready to entertain as friends, not suspecting
their fatal danger. I shall, therefore, give
you an account of a few of tliem, and tell you
their names. 1. Unbelief. 2. Pride. 3.
Vain-Glory. 4. Formality. 5. Hypocrisy.
6. Opposition. 7. Heresy. 8. Supersti-
tion. 9. Idolatry. 10. Prosperity. 11.
Persecution. 12. Ignorance. 13. Blimt,
Zeal. 14. Vain-Hope. 15. Sloth, or Idle-
ness. 16. Covet eousness. 17. Old-Custom.
18. Evil-Example. 19. Self Righteous-
ness. 20. Presumption. 21. Despair. 22.
Slavish^Fear. 23. Sensual- Pleasiire. 24.
Apostacy : with many others of like qual-
ity, too tedious here to reckon up ; but by
mentioning the names of these, you may
easily discern who and what the others are,-
who with their attendants are all implaca*-

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS,

ble enemies to True Godliness, and en-
deavor to hinder his being entertained
where he comes, as you will find in tlie en-
suing history of his Travels.

CHAPTER III.

Godliness, having received a Commission
to travel, and visit the Children of Men,
comes to a certain Town on the Conjines
of Babylon, where Riches dwelt. His
Usage and Treatment there.

The great Jehovah, Father of True
Grace or Godliness, out of his infinite good-
ness to mankind, was graciously pleased to
send them a Saviour, even the Lord Jesus
Christ, who is " able to save to the utter-
most all that come to God by him." Heb.
vii. 25. But in his eternal wisdom hath so
ordained, that no man should have any sav-
ing benefit by this glorious Saviour, but he
who doth receive, entertain, and embrace
True Godliness. I now, therefore, resume
my allegorical narrative, by considering
Godliness as having received a commission
from the King of heaven and earth, to
travel and ascertain who would embrace
and entertain him. His commission was
very large : not hmited to the land of Ca-
naan, but embracing all nations, coimtries,
and kingdoms. Matt, xxviii. 19, 20. Mark
xvi. 15. And to visit the rich and the
poor, the old and young; as well the
king on the throne as the beggar on the
dunghill ; even all, bond and free, male and
female. Nor was he sent to travel alone,
but had a very rich and glorious retinue al-
ways with him; neither did he come to any
man's house empty handed, but brought with
him most rich and glorious presents of the
choicest things of heaven, the Avorth of
which is infinitely beyond our computation.
I first saw him draw near a city in which
Riches dwelt ; a man to whom great defer-
ence was paid by the inhabitants, and into
whose noble mansion I hoped he would be
readily welcomed.

Godliness knocked, however, very hard
and often, before any within would give
an answer. Riches being full of busi-
ness, either telling his money, or casting up
his accounts, to see what his neighbors
oived him, or consulting new projects to in-
crease his store ; for he is a person never
satisfied. Besides, the times being very
perilous, his mind was filled with perplex-
ing and vexatious thoughts, how to save
and keep what he had already gotten ; so
that he nad no leisure to listen to the con-
tinual knocking of True Godliness at his
door, he was therefore forced to wait a long
time. But that which grieved this high

born prince most all was this, viz : he per-
ceived that no sooner did some other guest*
come to his door, who were much inferior,
as to birth and quality, (and indeed not
worthy of the least regard, not having bu-
siness of that great weight and moment with
him which he had) than he opened his door
immediately to them; yet before this re-
nowned personage could get in. Riches had
so many base and ill-bred servants in his
house, that ihey shut the door, so tliat he
could not get so much as one foot in. The
guests he so readily opened to, were " the
Lust of the Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes,
and the Pride of Life," 1 John ii. 16. These
he took much delight in, and kept company
with continually ; sometimes they conduct-
ed him to the tavern, sometimes to the play-
house, and sometimes amused him at bowls,
cards, and dice, and divers other sensual
sports and pleasures. But at last he was
taken veiy sick, and Godliness still waited at
his door. At this time one was in his house,
who forced him to listen to this earnest and
continual knocking. His name was Mr.
Fearful. He is one that Riches doth not
at all love, but when sickness comes he is
grievously troubled with him ; and he made
him at this season cry out, Who is there 1
Who is at my door ?

Godli. I am here, and have a long time
waited at your door.

Riches. What is your name ?

Godli. My name is True Godliness, one
that you have little reason to slight, neglect,
and condemn as you have done ; for there
is none you stand more in need of, nor can
do you that good which I can and will do
you, if you but open your door and receive
me.

Riches. Sir, I am troubled that I have
not regarded you all this while, for I have
a great reverence and respect for Godliness;
God forbid I sliould keep you out any long-
er I

Upon this the whole house was in an
uproar, for he had (as I told you before)
divers loose, ill-bred, or rather hell-bred ser-
vants, all bitter enemies to True Godli-
ness ; their names were, Presumption,
Pride, Unbelief Ignorance, Malice, Vain-
Hope, Cotetoiitiucss, and several other base
persons, whom he had brought up, and a
long time cherished in his house. These
seemed greatly concerned, that the least
heed or attention should be given to True
Godliness. Tiiey also inquired who was
the cau.se of the proposal to admit Godli-
ness. At last, understanding it was Mr.
Fearful, they presently joined together to
fall upon him, and expel him from the
house. Presumption struck the first blow,
and spoke to this ])urpose :

Presump. Are not yovi a base fellow, so-
to disturb my master, as to cause him t^

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS,

2';

doubt of the sufficiency of his strong and
impregnable fortification, wherein he hath
long and satisfactorily placed his confidence,
and now to force him to incline to open to
True Godliness^ who is our utter enemy?
Is not our master an honest man ? What
can you charge him with ? What cause or
ground is there for this disturbance ? Hath
he not done much good in the parish where
he lives, and given many a piece of bread
at his door? I engage it will go well with
him. Fearful, what do you say ?

Fearful. Truly, Sir, seeing him very
sick, I thought he might die in his sins.

Presump. Thou fool ! what if he should,
did not Jesus Christ die for sinners ? God
is merciful, and \vill forgive men their sins
at any time, even at the last hour, if they
do but call upon him. Besides, Fearful,
are you mad, to give way, much more to
force him to incline to open to True Godli-
ness? for if once he is admitted to the
house, you will be immediately turned out
and hardly, if ever, have the least counte-
nance.

Fearful. Truly, Presumption, the fault
was not principally mine ; I was partly
forced to do what I did.

Presump. Forced ! by whom ? who forc-
ed you ?

Fearful. It was the steward of the house,
who keeps the records, or an account of all
that is done, whose name is Conscience.
He, finding much guilt lying upon him
through his cruelty, hard-heartedness, and
debauched life, stirred me up to do what I
have done: nay, Conscience told him he
had been so vile and graceless, that if he
died, he would go immediately to hell ;
therefore you cannot censure me for disqui-
eting him.

Pride. Hearken to me a little : Is it not
below such a brave and heroic spirit as al-
ways attends Riches, to be troubled about
sin, or to give way to a clamorous Con-
science, and this ill-bred Fearful ? I hate
the thoughts of it ; this is the way to bring
him to reproach and shame amongst his
neighbors, and to make men of distinction,
who have been his companions, laugh at
him, and contemn him. My great prince
Lucifer sent me into his service, and I will
not betray my trust, ever to consent that
this unwelcome and hateful traveller, should
be admitted, who would beguile my prince
of his right.

Unbelief. Dear Sirs, there is no danger
I agree with my friend and brother Pre-
sumption, that his condition is good enough,
let Conscience say what he will. If there
be a hell, (though I much question it,) yet
he will go, should he die, I will assure you,
to heaven.

Ignor. What a tumult is here ! If our
master were poor, there might be some

ground for this base Fearful, to disqmet
him. I can give as good counsel as any of^
you : " Money answers all things ;" he may
"make him friends with the mammon of
unrighteousnesss ;" let him give a little
more than usual to the poor, and tliat will
merit Grod's favor. Who would not part
with a little money, to get peace of con-
science, and purchase a place in heaven ?
Charity is more than all your new notions
of religion : Charity covers a mviltitude of
sins. Though I know but little, yet I am
not such an ignoramus as some think.

Vain-Hope. I am of the mind with my
brother, Unbeliefs and it was I also, you
know, who have kept up his spirits all
along, and did what I could to stop stew-
ard Conscieiice from giving way to Mr.
Fearful to open the door : let him there-
fore put his trust in me, and he will fear
nothing.

Presump. Come, cease this noise : all is
well yet ; Godliness is not let in, and our
master is much better than he was ; and
though Conscience inclines to embrace this
our enemy, yet you will find he will not be
regarded in a little while. Let us all agree,
at present, to stir up Riches'' eldest son,
whose name is Hojwr, the father's favorite,
and the hopes of all the family, to see what
he can effect, in order to keep our enemy
Godliness out. Now our friend Pride is the
fittest to be employed in this work ; for he
is much in favor with our master's eldest
son.

A fter a short time it resulted thus : Rich-
es being recovered, he consulted with
Worldly-Honor, a great enemy to True
Godliness, which was one reason why the
Almighty said a great while ago, "How
can you believe that receive honor one of
another, and seek not'the honor that cometh
from God only?" John v. 44. Now Pride,
Ambition and Hcnior, being all three the
natural offspring of Riches, so much pos-
sessed his affection, that Godliness was
kept out, (making good that word, " The
wicked, through the pride of his counte-
nance, will not seek after God — God is not
in aU his thoughts :") and Conscience being
at this time almost stifled, Fearful was
forced to fly and conceal himself till anoth-
er season. But Godliness remained at his
door for a long time — even till he waxed old;
and Conscience, having recovered a little
strength by reason of his going now and
then to hear a sermon, stirred up Mr. Fear-
ful again to open the door, and had almost
prevailed, had not a base servant of Riches,
(who, I take it, was his Purse-bearer,) be-
stirred himself. His name was Covetous-
ness, an implacable enemy to Tme Godli-
ness. He perceiving that Godliness was
like to meet with some entertainment, spoke
to Riches after this sort;

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS,

Covet. Sir, will you be so unwise now in
your old age, as to open your door to this
stranger ? It will be to your great injury,
I assure you : and besides, I, who have been
a drudge to you all along, and the means by
which you have gained the most of your es-
tate, shall, at the very instant you receive
him into your house, be turned out ; nay,
and not only so, but be also brought under
a severe sentence, and be condemned to die
for idolatry. And then your treasures will
fly; lor you AviU find him a chargeable
gentleman, teaching a doctrine that I am
sure you hale ; and I cannot blame you,
for it is very destructive to your interest.

Riches. What doctrine is that ? Prithee,
inform me, for I have a very great esteem
for thee ; and in truth, for a long time have
been sensible of the service thou hast done
me ; for when I kept my old servant
Prodigality for a purse keeper, I could
never thrive ; but since I met with thee, I
have increased my substance exceedingly.

Covet. Why, Sir, then I will tell you ; he
teaches Riches to be what he calls rich in
good works, that is, generous in building up
religion in the world, and to follow a new
master, who had not one foot of land in all
the world, nor a house to dwell in ; no, nor
one penny of money ; whose disciples were
generally poor, illiterate and contemptible
people. Sir, in a word, if you open to God-
liness, you will be undone ; for though you
are not put upon selling all you have pres-
ently, as some that Avould have received
liim in ancient days were required to do,
yet you will be forced to give to the poor
saints, as they call them, not merely a little,
but according to what your estate and their
necessity is. Nay, you will never know
when you have done, for he Avill find out
for you every day new objects of charity ;
he will tell you there are so many poor
heathen without Bibles or teachers, and so
many poor and desolate churches, so many
poor widows, and so many neglected chil-
dren in the city, and nobody knows what
other objects of charity, (as he calls them,)
for whom efforts must be made ; and who
should do it, he will say, but Riches? nay,
it is a thousand to one, if he do not put you
to build an hospital, or endow some profess-
orship. Besides, when you have done this,
he will not let you re.st, but will tell you,
when-soever Christ's members are sick, you
must visit them ; and when hungry, feed
them ; when naked, cloth them ; and when
in prison, you must relieve them. And then,
if times of persecution for the sake of reli-
gion should come, he will send you to pris-
on, to see if Christ be not there ; I mean
some of his poor children, who lie there for
liis sake. If there be any, though they
may not in all points of religion agree with
you, yet he will tell you,, j'ou m\ist not let

them want, whilst you have enough to sup-
ply their necessity ; and if you do, he will
tell you, " Go ye cursed," &c. will be your
portion at last. Beside all this, you do not
think what an amount of money he will tell
you it is your duty to give to Pastors and
Ministers of the gospel, who are his great
instruments and promoters in the world ;
nay. Sir, he po.sitively afflrms, you ought
not only to give them just so much as will
supply their necessities, but that it is your
duty to give, and their right to have, a plen-
tiful allowance, so that fhey may be freed
from all the perplexing cares of this life ;
and may have as much out of your estate,
as to be able to give to others also, that so
they may be examples of charity ; (and in-
deed I cannot deny but that the Scriptures
do say they ought to be men given to hos-
pitality. Tit. i. 8,) and many of them are
poor, and therefore that they should do this
Godliness says is impossible, unless they
are capacitated so to do by Riches. More-
over, this Godliness is so unhappy, ard, in
truth, hath always been, that he hath ma-
ny great and potent enemies ; so that they
who receive and entertain him have been
exposed to great troubles and frequent per-
secutions.

Riches. I must confess thou hast said
enough to make me Ibrever out of love with
Godliness ; I cannot bear the thoughts of
entertainig such a guest as this in my house :
but what shall I do with my clamorous
steward Conscience 7 for he every now and
then tells me I must listen to him, and stira
up that Fearfid, a fellow that I certainly
hate, but cannot get rid of, to terrify me
with the thoughts of hell and damnation ;
telling me that " without holiness, (I must
confess I have so read,) no man shall see
the Lord ;" and that " whoever will live
godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecu-
tion."

Covet. Why truly, Sir, I see no remedy
but you must resolve to keep him under.
I perceive he is the chief cause of all the
disturbance and trouble that is in your
house. But for the way this shall be done,
I must refer you to that worthy gentleman,
and understanding servant of yours, Dr.
Self-love ; for in this case I am not quali-
fied to give counsel, being not brought up
in learning ; but he and Sir Worldly- Wis-
dom, being both able divines, will be sure
to find out a ready way to do it, so that you
shall not be troubled with him any more ;
and this I will assure you, if I can be help-
ful to them in the business, I will be at your
command.

Dr. Self-love and Sir Worldly-Wisdom,
being at hand. Riches called for them, to
whom he addressed himself after this man-
ner:

Riches. Gentlemen, you have both great

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS,

learning and experience in the laAVs, divine
and human. Be pleased to give me a Ht-
tle of your counsel. My case is this : there
is one who calls himself True Godliness, at
my door, and presses hard for entertain-
ment; but by means of a description I
have lately had of his manners and attend-
ants, I perceive it will be dangerous at this
time for me to receive him, or to show him
kindness. But I have a troublesome stew-
ard, whom I cannot get rid of, who too
much favors him, and is ready often to open
the door ; so that by his means, and one
Fearful, a timorous fellow, whom he stirs
up, I have of late had but very htlle quiet.
Now, what will you advise me to do in this
sad condition 7

Dr. Self-love. You must not give way
to Conscience. Sir, if you follow his dic-
tates, and embrace this Godliness, you will
be undone, and your wife and children will
soon be brought to a piece of bread, notwith-
standing your great estate. Sir, your great
fault hath been this, (I perceive it clearly,)
you have read too much of late ; why should
you concern yourself with the Bible ? I
think it had been well if it had never been
translated into our mother tongue ; this
hath given him opportunity to disturb your
mind. Come, give over this in the first
place. The cause, you know, of a distem-
per must be first removed, or no radical
cure can be effected ; it is enough for you
to mind your secular affairs ; things of reli-
gion belong to religious men ; and when
Conscience for any sin distresses you, divert
yourself amongst the brave heroes you used
to keep company with ; go to the tavern,
or to some play-house ; but at no time read
any book besides your books of accompts,
and romances. What this traveller saith,
is but mysterious nonsense, enough to make
men mad ; I do not say, you should not be
religious at all: no, God forbid I should
give you such counsel ; but let it be liberal
religion. If we try to do as we would be
done by, we shall fare well enough. There
is no need to entertain strict Godliness, be-
cause you may be saved without it ; else,
what will become of the greatest part of
the word ! Go to church and hear prayers,
but be sure never to go to any churches
where methodistical preachers endeavor to
reach your conscience. Can any man per-
suade me his soul cannot be saved, unless
he " sell all he hath, and give it to the poor,"
and so " become a fool, that he may be
wise ?"

Sir Worldly-wisdom. Mr. Riches, the
counsel which my brother hath given is
very good : be sure you are never led, by
the dictates of your fanatical steward, Con-
science, to expose yourself to any loss or
reproach for religion. You hear you may
be, nay, ought to be religious : and what is

religion, but to live an honest and sober
life ; to fear God, honor our rulers, say our
prayers, and pay our debts 1 But I have
just now thought of a way that will do.
You have a great estate, pray get another
member into your family — keep a chaplain;
this done, you will find all will be well, and
you will hear no more complaints from with-
in or without ; for you will be taken by all
your servants, and others too, for a very
godly man ; neither believe nor regard
what such babblers say, who talk of things
that lie above all human reason, as Mr. Self-
Love noted. Can three be one, or one be
three? or, can a man be that God who
made the world ? or, can his righteousness
be yours 1 or, can God give men a religion
to guide them, and yet have mysteries m
it ■? No, no, your own deeds must justify
you : this Godliness is but foolisliness ; re-
gard him not.

Riches, having thanked them for their
good counsel, with a great deal of joy, re-
tires himself, being very well satisfied with
the advice that his neighbors, Doctor Self-
Love and Sir Worldly- Wisdom had given
him.

Riches now got a chaplain, and instead
of opening to True Godliness, he introduc-
ed Counterfeit Godliness, which was occa-
sioned through his own Ignorance, and the
foolish counsel he had received. Now, this
man, as it appears, proved a sad fellow ;
for though he was a good scholar, being
brought up in a university, yet his religion
consisted merely in strict forms and out-
ward show. There was indeed not one
in all the family that hated True Godliness
more than he ; for he made songs of him,
and scoffed, jeered, and derided him contin-
ually, calling him a mysterious and non-
sensical fellow, talking of things above all
human reason, and above all belief He
also stirred up all the neighborhood to find
fault anil quarrel with those who were
friends of True Godliness, while he affirm-
ed that he himself was properly entitled to
that name. Poor Conscience himself was
in some measure deceived and appeased.
He saw so much appearance of piety in
the order of family worship, and going
to meeting, and reading the prayer book,
that he seemed to think his hopes of his
master's reformation were now realized.

Godliness now perceived he was like to
have but cool entertainment at this house;
so having waited at Riches'' gate till all his
patience was almost exhausted, he began
to think of a removal, and to travel to some
other place : but before he took his final
farewell, he was resolved to speak his mind
freely to him, thereby to leave him without
excuse ; and therefore addressed him af-
ter this manner, being at the door ready to
depart :

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS

Godli. Well, Riches, I see now very
clearly you did but flatter me when you
began to hearken to your poor steward,
Conscience, relative to my reception into
your house ; for it is very plain, you are
grown far worse than belure, and have
blinded his eyes, by entertaining another,
who calls himself by my name. But before
I depart, I will show you the great danger
you are in, and the cause of it. The truth
IS, you have got such a company of loose,
base and deceitful servants, that they will
utterly undo you, and bring upon you the
eternal ruin of your poor soul, which I de-
signed, by my coming to you, to save, and
make happy forever. There was never
any who entertained those graceless ene-
mies of God, but were ruined by them at
last; nay, and not only eternally in the
world to come, but many times outwardly
in this world ; therefore I advise and en-
treat you to get rid of them, and promise I
will help you to far better servants in their
stead. For, first of all, can you think it
will be safe for you to keep Presumption in
your house, since there is scarce a more
deceitful and dangerous wretch m the world?
How many thousands of poor souls has he
destroyed by causing them to presume on
the mercy of God, and the death of Christ,
and yet live in sin, pride, and covetousness,
and in a vile manner hating and contem-
ning me? Doth not God say, " It is hard
for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of
heaven ;" and yet you are persuaded by
him to think it is an easy thing. And doth
not the Scripture say, " Except your right-
eousness exceed the righteousness of the
scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no wise
enter into the kingdom of God ?" Matt.
V. 20 ; and yet he tells you, that by doing a
few good deeds, or by giving a little of
your abundance to the poor, your state is
safe, whereas many of the Pharisees, as to
acts of chariry, exceedingly outdid you:
nay, doth not St. Paul say, " Though he
gave all his goods to the poor, and his body
to be burned, yet without charity (that is to
say, true love to God and Godliness) he
was nothing ?" 1 Cor. xiii. 3 ; and yet you
though you slight and condemn Godliness,
are taught to presume on God's mercy,
who hath notwithstanding positively said
concerning you, and such as you are, " He
that made them, will not save them ; and
lie that formed them, will shew them no fa-
vor," Isaiah xxvii. 11.

As touching what Self-love saith, it is
abominable. Do you not find the Lord
Jesus say, that " Unless a man deny him-
self, he cannot be my disciple?" Matt.
xvi. 24. Now, this follow is one of the rest
there meant, even Sclf-lnve and Self-right-
eousness, as well as Sinful-self and Natu-

ral-self. Sir, you must get rid of them all,
or perish forever.

And then as to Worldly- Wisdom, he is
Satan's Attorney-general, that ever gives
counsel to all that hearken to him against
God and Clirist, and all revealed religion.
He deceives and ruins the souls of men :
ridicules all supernatural discoveries of God,
or revealed religion, and would indeed pa-
ganize this land again. Doth not Paul
say, " The world by wisdom knew not
God?" He would have you believe noth-
ing to be a truth or principle of religion,
that lies above your own reason ; and there-
fore he says that there is nothing mysteri-
ous in Christianity ; by which he gives the
Scripture the lie, that says, " Without con-
troversy, great is the mystery of Godli-
ness." 1 Tim. iii. 16.

He will not suffer those that hearken to
him to believe the Trinity of persons in the
sacred Godhead, nor that Christ is the most
high God, and yet very Man, in one per-
son, because it lies above man's wisdom or
understanding to comprehend it ; nor that
sinnners can be justified by the active Eind
passive obedience of Christ, though it is
positively asserted to be thus by the Spirit
of God in his word.

This Worldly- Wisdom and Sir Human-
Reason taught the Greeks (in the apostles'
time) to contemn the preaching of Christ
crucified, and salvation by him, as a foolish
notion or idle dream, and so tliey strive to
persuade people to think now, and thus to
trample the chief principles of the Christian
faith under their feet.

Alas ! it is evident that there are many
earthly things, or things in nature, which
no man can comprehend, nor give a reason
for; and is it surprising then, that the
mysteries of the gospel, or the deep things
of God, are above human reason to con-
ceive, so as fully to comprehend them ?

Yet, tliough these mysteries are above
human reason, it is not against reason to
believe them. Is it not reasonable that
men believe what the God of Truth af-
firms ? These scorners would not have you
" sell all you have and give it to the poor ;"
yet you know the Lord Jesus Christ gave
that counsel to a rich man; and if you
do not part with all in your love and af-
fection, and actually when God calls for
it, you can be no true Christian, because
you do not love God with all your heart,
nor above your gold and silver, or earthly
riches.

Moreover, if you will not choose to be-
come a fool in the esteem of carnal men,
you can never be truly wise. See 1 Cor.
iii. 18, " If any man among you seemeth to
be wise in this world, let him become a fool
that he may be wise." Let worldly wise

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

men account you a fool ; if you are spirit-
ually wise, wise unto salvation, it matters
not how you are called and censured by
such whom Satan has blinded. Doth not
the apostle say, " That the world by wis-
dom knew not God ?"

Your servant Unbelief, is a wicked, de-
vouring monster, that hath sent millions to
hell, by hmdering them from beheving
what God hath said in his word. He will
not sufler you to believe nor give credit to
that word, " If any man loves the world, the
love of the Father is not in him," 1 John. i.
15 ; nor to that word, " Except a man be
born again, he cannot see the kingdom of
God," John iii. 3 ; and " he that believeth
not shall be damned," Mark xvi. 16 ; and
many like awakening sentences. And thus
he teaches you to make God a liar ; for he
hath said, You shall, loithoiU true faith,
perish in your sItis : but Unbelief says. Ye
shall be saved though ye live in yo^ir sins.

As to what Ignorance says. That you
may purchase or merit peace of conscience
by giving more liberally to the poor ; and
that you may also make you friends of the
mammon of unrighteousness; he would
make you think, that God and Jesus Christ
will in that way become your friends, and
save your soul when you die.

Sir, if you gave all your goods to feed
the poor, (which you are far from doing,)
yet you would be miserable ; nothing that
you can do can change your state, or pro-
cure God's acceptance of your person ; no
you must obtain union with Christ, and re-
ceive me, or perish in your sins forever.

If money could purchase peace of con-
science, or giving liberally to the poor merit
heaven, what rich man need to fear being
damned ? And then also it might be very
easy " for a rich man to enter into the king-
dom of heaven," which the Lord Christ
says is not an easy thing. Sir, while the
world is in your heart, in your love and af-
fection, " the love of the Father is not in
you," tliough you give much to the poor.
As the young man, who was very rich,
wanted one thing, so do you ; that is, true
fiiith and an interest in Christ. " Yon
must be born again, or you caimot enter
into the kingdom of heaven;" and tiiat
you can never be, until you receive tlie
Holy Spirit, and let in True Godliness,
Whosoever receives me, receives the Spirit,
and true and right principles ; such as these,
that " all your own righteousness is as filthy
rags ;" and that all works before grace,
are dead works, and profit men nothing.
Moreover, That Christ's righteousness, ex-
clusive of all inherent righteousness, alone
justifies a believing sinner.

As concerning Pride, wliom you enter-
tain, as a sweet and beloved friend, he hath
been the ruin of many souls ; nay, and not

only men, but angels also ; for it is thought
he was the principal one who wrought their
destruction, and from heaven cast them
down to hell, and of angels of light, made
devils. But, Sir, remember that word,
" Pride goes before destruction, and a
haughty spirit before a fall." What be-
came of the great king of Babylon, Neb-
uchadnezzar, for entertaining this fellow?
Was it not Pride that brought him down,
and turned him a grazing, to eat straw like
oxen? Dan. iii. 4. Moreover, what became
of Herod the Great, who was fond of this
companion ? Did he not bring God's heavy
wrath upon him in such a fearful manner,
that a blessed angel was sent to smite him
with death immediately, and he was eaten
of worms? Acts xii. 23. Have you not
read, that, "the day cometh which shall
burn as an oven, and all tlie proud, and all
that do wickedly, shall be as stubble ?" Hos.
iv. 1. This haughty Pride is one of those
seven things, as Solomon shoAvs, which
God hates, Prov. vi. 16. If you will not, O
Riches be persuaded from all I have said,
to turn him out of your house, even take
what will follow.

Vain-Hope, I know, is one that hath kept
up your spirits, and spoken peace to you all
along ; but he will leave you like a false-
hearted, and treacherous friend, when you
come into distress. You hope to be saved,
(and so did many thousands that are now
in outer darkness ;) but alas ! what ground
have you to build your hope upon ? " The
hypocrite's hope shall perish ; whose hope
shall be cut off, and whose trust shall be as
a spiders web," Job xviii. 13, 14. Ah ! Sir,
what will your hope avail you, though you
have gained the world, when God taketh
away your soul ?" Job xxvii. 8.

And lastly, as to your chosen friend Cov-
etmisness, he is made up of idolatry ; and
what can be more detestable to the Lord ?
He is indeed the ringleader to almost all
manner of wickedness ; nay, there is scarce-
ly a viler and more abominable wretch
breathing on earth, therefore justly called,
" the root of all evil," 1 Tim. vi. 10. He
hath taught many to play the thief, others
to commit treason, and others to murder
innocents for their inheritance ; he is guilty
of bribery, usury, extortion and oppress-
ion : it was he that made poor Achan lose
his life : he also contrived the death of Na-
both and his sons ; and, more than all, he
tempted Judas to sell, and basely to betray
my dear Lord and Master Jesus Christ,
for thirty pieces of silver. Do not blame
me, therefore, if I bear so hard against
him. Moreover, I can seldom get one foot
into any rich man's house through his
means; it is he and his companions who
keep me out: he liath, tlirough his hard
lieartedness, almost famished all die poor,

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLIx\ESS.

both in city and country ; and hath also of
late very near betrayed my whole interest
that I have in the world, into the enemy's
hands : he hath also grievously corrupted
many who profess kindness to me, by en-
cumbering their minds so with the affairs
of this life, that they cannot find the way
to the church. When they should be hear-
ing God's word, he forces them to abide in
their shops ; nor will he suffer many of
them to take a little time to pray in their
families, nor in their closets. He has also
exposed many of my poor ministers to ma-
ny great straits and necessities, by which
means their heads have been so filled with
the cares of this life, that they have been
incapacitated to preach the gospel as they
ought to preach it ; nor can they get such
helps as are necessary, and all because of
him. Nay, he hath almost undone every
nation, by corrupting the law, and subvert-
ing justice, causing judges to judge for re-
ward, and lawyers to plead more for fees
than equity; and hath spoiled commerce,
for he hath monopolized trades and com-
modities, so that many men have been un-
done by him. I cannot. Sir, reckon up all
his horrible crimes ; and is this he you so
dearly love? And must I be slighted and
disregarded by you through the love you
bear to him ? Alas ! Sir, he will bring your
soul, if you follow him, to destruction. Pray,
what became of Ananias and Sapphira,
whom he forced to tell a lie to the Holy
Ghost? Acts V. 1—4. Who was it tliat
caused the young man in the gospel to iall
short of heaven, and to go away from Je-
sus Christ very sorrowful, and Demas to
turn apostate, and embrace this evil world ?
Was it not Coveioiisness ? Ah ! Sir, take
heed of this miscreant; for though some
wicked ones of the earth may bless you,
yet he will cause God to hate you. See
what David saith, " The wicked boasteth
of his heart's desire, and blesseth the cov-
etous, whom the Lord abhorreth." Psl. x.
3. Consider these things, and be persuad-
ed to put away all these deceitful compan-
ions, which you have a long time nourish-
ed in your house. Oh ! that you would
now at last, before I leave you, hearken to
my counsel, and receive me into your house,
and renounce that monster you have lately
embraced, who calls himself by my name !
What do you say. Riches?

Riches. Do you think I shall give enter-
tainment to you, and lose all my great hon-
or and credit amongst men?

Godli. Is not that honor that comes
from God better than all the vain honor
poor mortals can give you ? You have, 1
am sure, a rare example to follow in this
case : remember Moses ; he was not of your
mind. Some rich and noble men have, for
my sake, denied themselves all the glory of
this world, and accounted the reproaches of

Christ greater riches than earthly honors
and the pleasures of sin, which are but for
a season.

Riches. If others were such fools to dis-
grace themselves, what is that to me ?

Godli. Sir, I perceive your condition is
miserable, for you seem to be hardened ; and
whilst you have had gracious means alibrd-
ed you, to bring you to repentance, you are
grown worse and worse : however, let me
tell you, if you die before you have em-
braced and received me into your house,
you will perish in your sins, and hell will be
your portion forever. Those who reject
me, reject God and Jesus Christ also ; and
to tell you the truth, all this time I have been
at your door, the Lord Jesus hath stood
waiting Ukewise.

Riches. Leave your canting. Do you
begin to threaten me ? am I not my own
master ? would you lord it over me ? I per-
ceive what you aim at : you would have me
entertain you that so your poor despised
offspring may take advantage of me. I
could find in my heart to be revenged on
you, and set all the rabble of the town upon
you. Sirrah ! I have considered the busi-
ness, and have had advice what to do from
two able counsellors, Dr. Self-Love and Sir
Worldly- Wisdom.

Godli. Sir, St. Paul did not take advice
of those two depraved, degraded counsel-
lors ; that is, " he consulted not with flesh
and blood."

Riches. Will you not leave your prating?
You are called Godliness, but that is not
your name: you are, I understand, a fac-
tious ye/Zow, and your name is Stubbornness,
alias Singidarity ; one may know what you
are by the many names you go by. Know
you, therefore, friend, that I have received
the Thnie Godliness already, and him will I
keep. He is indeed an honorable person,
one whom great men love, and is in favor
with the princes of the earth: but as for
you, I see no encouragement for any one to
respect you ; for as most people in all na-
tions speak against you, and hate you, so
you would, I know, soon spoil all my joys,
and bring nothing but sorrow and fear along
witla you. I must not so much as make a
false statement for my advantage, but you
would threaten me with eternal ruin ; nor
go to a tavern, and by chance take a glass
too much, and let now and then an oath
slip, but you would stir up my stCAvard,
Conscience, to censure me unmercifully;
but I shall teach him his place. Beside, if
I should not give to the poor according to
your humor, I should be censured and con-
demned by you as a wicked person ; yea,
and most of my habitual desires you would
call hurtful lusts, and say they must be
mortified, and that my greatest favorite
must not be spared. 1 perceive what a fool
you would make me; be gone fr'^'^ my

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS,

door, or I will call one of my servants, who
shall drive you out of the town.

His anger now rose excessively, and he
began violently to thrust Godliness from the
door^ which no sooner did his chaplain, Mr.
Redder^ perceive, but he came to his assist-
ance, with cruel rage, being stirred up by
Envy, and accused Godliness in a most hase
and cruel manner, calling him all the vilest
names he could devise, enough to make any
ignorant and unthinking man conclude True
Godliness was a hateful companion, and
before all things to be avoided and discoun-
tenanced. His chaplain also warmly chal-
lenged him to dispute with him, and bois-
terously urged that text, " Be not righteous
over much, neither make thyself over wise ;
why shouldest thou destroy thyself?" Eccl.
vii. 16. He thought with this one weapon to
have knocked True Godliness down, and
have spoiled his traveUing forever.

But he soon answered and said, that no
man could be truly righteous over much,
nor have too much of that pure wisdom
that is from above ; but that a man might,
he told him, under pretence of righteous-
ness, do more than God required of him,
and so be righteous over much, (as the Pa-
pists and otliers are,) and thereby destroy
himself, since will-worship was of such an
abominable nature ; and that a man also
might be over wise in his own conceit.

At this answer the dispute ended: and
Riches perceiving his chaplain was worsted,
disliked True Godliness much more, and
raised all the rabble of the town upon him ;
among which were Pride, Ignorance, Wil-
ful, Hate Good, Outside, Riot, Wastefid,
Hard Heart, Giddy-Head, Pick-Thank,
Roh-Saint, and other such ill-bred fellows.
And moreover he affirmed, if he were not
gone soon, he would send for the two con-
stables, Oppressimi and Cruelty, to put him
where he should be safe. Upon which.
Godliness was forced to get away and hide
himself, or else he had been cruelly beaten,
or basely put to death : but he, being out
of their reach, by the providence of God
escaped without injury.

Godliness being thus forced to leave
Riches^ door, Vice and Ungodliness took the
full possession of his house, and Godliness
went on his way, grieved to see how he had
hitherto been slighted and abused.

CHAPTER IV.

Godliness, in his Travels, came to a Cot-
tage, where dwelt one called Poverty, with
whom he earnestly desired to make his
Abode, but was denied Entertainme'ivt.

Godliness, finding how basely he had
Vol. 3.-E.

been served by Riches, and that he could
not, with the strongest arguments and mo-
tives imaginable, get entertainment with
him, travelled farther : and at last chanced
to come to a small village, at the farthest
end of which, (upon the common,) he espied
a little cottage ; a poor old ruinous building,
the windows of which being broken, they
had crowded into the holes some old clothes,
to keep out the cold ; and, by its being
propped up, it seemed as if it was ready to
fall. But, however, he remembering what
his blessed Lord and Master said, "the
poor receive the gospel," resolved to go
thither, for he " is no respecter of persons."
He is as willing to be a guest to the poor
as to the rich, and to dwell with the peasant
as with the prince, or to make his abode in
a cottage as in a palace. Being come up
to the door, he understood the man's name
who dwelt there was Poverty. Now Godr
liness knocked five or six times before he
had any answer : but at last, being between
sleeping and waking. Poverty asked, (though
very faintly,) Who is there ? Who is at the
door?

Godli. A friend ; my name is Tnie God-
liness.

Pov. I have heard of your name, yet
know you not: and moreover, I was forbid
formerly to entertain one who goes by your
name ; and it may be you as far as I know.
I have heard that many thousands, through
your means, have lost their lives as well as
their estates. And though I have not much
to lose, yet my life is as dear to me as any
man's.

Godli. I will do thee no wrong, my
friend ; but contrary-wise, if you open the
door and kindly entertain me, you shall find
me the best friend that ever you met with.

Pov. You speak well ; but what is it you
will do for me ? Have you any money to
impart, to procure food for my family, or
clothing for my almost naked children ?

Godli. I cannot at present assure thee
of worldly good things : I do not proffer
men money, or hire them to open their
doors to me : if I am not freely and heartily
received, I will not come in at all. Friend.
I do not trade in gold and silver ; but this I
will promise, if thou wilt kindly let me in,
whatsoever good thing the Lord sees thou
dost need, thou shalt, upon the word of
Christ himself, have it. " Seek first the
kingdom of God and his righteousness, and
all these things shall be added unto you."
Matt. vi. 33. You complain of want;
come open to me : do you not remember
that word, "They that fear the Lord shall
not want any good thing ?" Pel. xjcxiv. 10.
" The Lord will give grace and glory, and
no good thing will he withhold from them
that walk uprightly." Psl. Ixxxiv. 11.
What dost thou say. Poverty ?

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS

Pov. I am in a very low condition : what
you mean I cannot tell ; but this I know,
my head and heart are filled about other
things. Alas ! what can you think to meet
with, or expect from me ? Do you not see
what a number of poor, hungry and ragged
children I have ? It is enough for me to
get bread for them : I must leave the things
which you talk of to my betters ; I mean
such who have more time to mind them,
and are better learned. I cannot tell what
to say to you.

Truly, Ave poor folks in the country think
it is godliness enough for us to bear an
honest mind, and pay truly for what we
have, and go to church now and then, to
hear some good prayers, and say the Creed,
the Ten Commandments, and the Lord's
Prayer, sometimes at home, when we come
from work, if we do not chance to fall asleep
first ; but if I thought it would be for my
profit, I would open to you.

Godli. Poverty, I will assure thee it will
be infinitely for thy advantage ; hEist thou
not read —

Pov. I cannot read. Sir.

Godli. But have you not heard then of
that word, " Godliness is profitable unto all
things, having the promise of the life that
now is, and of that which is to come," 1
Tim. iv. 8 ; and that word, " Godliness with
cententment is great gain?" And now,
because I see you are weak, I will tell you
of some of those great blessings you will
gain, if you receive me in truth. Whereso-
ever I come, I bring reconciliation with God,
pardon of sin, peace of conscience, and joy
m the Holy Ghost ; I teach men to be dili-
gent and frugal, and so help them to a de-
cent competency ; nay, I raise men to honor
too ; I will make thee a son of God, an heir
of heaven, and at last set a crown of endless
glory on thy head. What dost thou say.
Poverty ?

Pov. I had rather have better clothes,
and good provisions, and a better habita-
tion ; these things suit my present necessi-
ty ; but as touching those things you talk
of, I do not well understand what they are ;
they may be but fancies. Besides, what
work will you set me about? I cannot en-
dure hard labor.

Godli. But stay, Poverty., what kind of
fellows are those you have in your house ?

Pov. What is that to you ; why do you
rtot answer my questions ?

Godli. Why then I will you ; you must
believe in Christ, and very fervently read
the Holy Bible, and every Lord's-day, with
great reverence and seriousness, hear God's
blessed word, and pray at least twice a day ;
nay, and I shall teach you to be more pain-
ful and laborious in your trade and worldly
business ; but this, I know, cannot be done,
unless you put away that horde of loose
fellows in your house.

Now Poverty had, it seems, divers base
and lazy companions, who were all grand
enemies to Tiue Godliness ; their names
were Unbelief, Ignorance, Idleness, Waste-
ful, and Fear-Man, together with some
others. His own children, viz : Light-Fin-
gers, Faint-Heart, and Carping-Care, were
no better. Now, when he felt disposed to
open to Godliness, these hindered him.

First, Sloth and Idleness would not let
him rise to call upon God, nor take pains to
pull up the briars and thorns that grew in
his heart ; by which means his field lay bar-
ren and untilled, nothing growing therein,
but what the ground brought forth natural-
ly : nay, these made him of such a sluggish
temper, and such a lover of rest, that he
complained sometimes because he could not
go without motion ; nay, he was unwilling
to be at the trouble of feeding himself;
therefore would wish that men might live
as trees and plants do. I remember a very
wise man told me, " That he hides his hand
in his bosom, and it grieveth him to bring
it again to his mouth," Prov. xxvi. 15, by
the sad influence of these two lazy fellows,
Sloth and Idleness.

Unbelief told him that those things of
which Godliness talked were mere fictions ;
being unseen things, there was no reality
in them , but when Poverty questioned the
truth of what Unbelief spoke upon this
account, and requested some explanations,
then the wretch told him they were things
far out of his reach, and that he had no part
or lot in them : neither could they (if it were
possible to obtain them) answer his present
necessities.

Light-Fingers told him, he had been for
a long while his best friend ; and if it had
not been for liim, he had been starved long
before now.

Distrust agreed to the discourse of his
thieving brother, and positively said, if he
turned Light- Fingers out of his house, (as
he knew he must if Godliness came in,) he
would certainly beg from door to door.

Wasteful told him, that True Godliness,
if entertained, would not suffer him to buy
such good provisions as he was used to do,
on trust, unless he knew he was able to pay
for them ; and that he would not suffer him
to go any more to merry meetings, and ca-
rouse amongst good fellows at the bar-room,
nor recreate himself at cards, bowls, nine-
pins, and other sports, for money, on holi-
days ; and that he must be content with such
things as he had, and never lose a day's
work to gratify the lusts of the flesh, and
that also he must change his company;
which particularly was grievous tor Poverty
to hear.

Carping- Care filled his head so full of
distracting thoughts, that he had not time
to think of God, Christ, nor his own soul,
from one week to another; but his orreat

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

study was either to think where to borrow
money, and so get more in debt, or else how
to pay what he owed, to get out of debt, or
how he should obtain employment. By this
means he was filled with sad thoughts, not
knowing how he should procure food or
clothing for the future. Besides, it could
not go out of his mind, but that at one time
or other he should be arrested, and thrown
into a jail, having many times fearfully
broken his word.

Faint-Heart and Fear-Man represented
to him the danger he would be in upon many
considerations, if True Godliness was enter-
tained.

For, first, they told him how contemptible
real godliness was grown, being of very
little credit or esteem amongst men by rea-
son of Vice, which was never more rampant
and popular; insomuch that True Godli-
ness was likely to be driven out of the world.
Mr. Riches, who is lord of the manor, hath
beat him away from his door, and hateth
him with a perfect hatred ; now, if you en-
tertain him, he will soon hear of it, and so
will become your deadly enemy, and will
pull down your cottage, or warn you out,
or be sure not to let you have a farthing of
the poor's-money, nor ever set you to work
any more ; and what will become then of
your poor wife and cliildren? Nay, said
they, we will tell you more; do you not
hear what cruel edicts have been made
against Tnie Godliness ? And how many
of the Protestant churches have been pulled
down and utterly demolished ? And how
he is persecuted almost every where 1 A
more liberal and pleasing form of religion
is now becoming popular, and will in a lit-
tle time be generally embraced, and they
who entertain T-ue Godliness must expect
to be reproached and reviled, nay, murder-
ed. Besides, do you not hear that many
who have for a long time entertained him,
have lately turned him out of doors ? they
are weary of him, or afraid to own him ;
and is this a time for you to think of em-
bracing him? Poverty (said they) pity
yourself, and have more wit ; you are poor
enough already, and this is the way to make
yourself more miserable. If Riches will
not entertain him, who hath many advanta-
ges to relieve and help himself in distressing
times, and sad exigencies, over what Pov-
erty hath, or can promise himself, there is
no ground of encouragement for you to
open to him.

Upon this poor Poverty resolved not to
let Tnie Godliness have a lodging in his
house, but rather, instead thereof, to put
stronger bolts and bars on his door. God-
Imess having waited to hear what these

Godli. Well, Poverty, I expected but
little less from you when I perceived you
were resolved to hearken to those graceless
companions and wicked children, for they
would do their worst to keep me out ; but I
shall now, however, to undeceive you, an-
swer them all.

As to those lazy companions, Sloth and
Idleness, who would not wish you to labor
for the good either of body or soul, they
have in part brought you into this poor and
miserable condition. Oh ! how many have
they brought to beg their bread from door
to door ! and stirred up others to rob, steal,
and commit horrible murders, to uphold
them in their loose, lazy, and ungodly lives ;
by which means they have brought, and
daily do bring, a number of men and wo-
men to the gallows ; but the greatest mis-
chief they do, is to the souls of men ; for
they cast thousands into such a deep sleep,
that they will never awake till they lift up
their eyes in hell. They will not suffer
them to labor to find out their danger, till it
is too late ; and others, when they do per-
ceive their woful condition, are hindered by
them from endeavoring timely, and in a
right manner, to get out ; they many times
cry, " Lord, help us !' and " Lord, have
mercy upon us !" but never strive to take
hold of the offers of his grace and mercy,
by cleaving to Christ, and leaving their
abominable wickedness. It is the idle soul
that suffers hunger, who shall beg at har-
vest, and have nothing; though there is
bread enough and to spare in God's house,
yet they will not suffer you to seek for it ;
but cause you to cry, " Yet a little sleep,
yet a little slumber, yet a little folding of
the hands to sleep." Prov. xxiv. 33. Is it
not sad, notwithstanding your house is on
fire, you cannot through Sloth and Idleness
rise up ? You are just ready to drop into
ruin, and yet will not endeavor to deliver
your own soul. O remember that word !
" Take tlie slothful and unprofitable servant,
and bind him hand and foot, and cast him
into outer darkness ; there shall be weeping
and gnashing of teeth." Matt. xxv. 30.
And then.

As to Light-Fingers, he is a thief, and if
you follow his dictates, he will bring you to
the gibbet; besides, "No thief shall enter
into the kingdom of God." 1 Cor. vi. 10.

Wasteful, his brother, is almost as bad as
he. It was this vain fellow tJiat brought the
poor "Prodigal to eat husks with the swine,"
Luke XV. It is he who not only causes you
to waste, and foolishly spend your money,
but also your precious time, which should
be improved for the good of your perishing
soul. Poverty, can it do you any harm to

eTiemiee of his would say, and perceiving! be taught to become a better husband, and
they had now done, he broke silence, andjnot to consume the little you sometimes get,
began to speak after this manner. amongst riotous company, which might be

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

a great comfort to your poor wife and chil-lthe using? And as they are corruptible,
dren? Let me now appeal to my neighbor so likewise they can never satisfy nor fill

Morality^ whether there is any ground for
you to refuse to entertain me, because I
teach you to be content with mean things,
hard fare, and put you upon severe labor,
and tell you not to run into debt, unless you
know how to pay it.

Ignorance is a murderer; and hatli de-
stroyed millions of souls : tliough there was
a time indeed when God seemed to wink at
him ; Acts, xvii. 30 ; that is, did not lay (as
it were) his hands immediately upon him ;
he now is left altogether inexcusable, be-
cause God hath afforded you a sufficiency
of light, to bring you to the true knowledge
of salvation, the necessity of faith and true
godliness, if you would escape the damna-
tion of hell.

I found Unbelief the other day with
Riches, and indeed I can come to no one's
door, but I find him within. He affirm
that all my promises are fictions ; being un-
seen things, they have no reality in them,
or things to which you can never attain ;
and if you could, yet they could not answer
your present necessities. If you would give
credit to such a notorious liar, murderer, and
blasphemer, who certainly, in a sly and
treacherous manner, seeks to stab you at
the heart, who can help it ? Are Christ's
promises of grace and peace here, and
glory hereafter, because not seen with ex-
ternal eyes, fictions 1 He will tell you also,
ere long, if you will believe him, that there
is no God nor Devil, Heaven nor Hell, be-
cause not visibly seen with eyes ; he may
suggest the one to you, as well as the other.
Come, Poverty, thousands of my children,
by blessed experience, have found my prom-
ises no fictions nor idle fancies, but things
full of realit}^, marrow and fatness : " O
taste and see how good the Lord is ! " And
. why may not you obtain these glorious good
things, viz : union and communion with
God, pardon of sin, peace of conscience
and joy in the Holy Ghost, as well as oth-
ers? They were commonly given in the
time of the gospel to tlie poor. Come,
Poverty, these tilings are thine, (as sure as
God is in heaven,) if thou wilt but let me
in ; poor Lazarus understood them, and
experienced the sweetness of them, and
shall through eternity. And then, lastly,
have you nu need of those good things of
mine, because they may not so directly an-
swer your outward necessity ? Are not the
necessities of your soul more to be minded
than to get store of meat, drink, clothes,
silver, and gold ? Wiiat are all these things
to the love and favor of God, an interest in
Christ, and a right to the kingdom of heav-
en ? How soon, alas ! may your life be
gone, and what good will these things do
you then ? Do you not see they perish in

the desires of your soul, nor do they suit
the necessities thereof Consider, can any
of these things make thy soul happy ? Can
gold or silver enrich it? Or the rarest
worldly dainties feed it ? Or wine cheer it?
No, Pocerty : if thou hadst the things of
this world in abundance, yet till thou lettest
me in, and makest me thy chief companion,
thy soul will be miserable. What is it to
have plenty of all good things, and no God,
no Christ, no pardon, no peace, but contra-
ry-wise, the curse of God, horror of con-
science, and ruin at last? Thou wilt, Pov-
erty, become more happy if thou dost open
thy door to me, and thou and I dwell to-
gether, than the proudest monarch of the
earth : thy comforts, inward peace, and joy,
will excel theirs, and thy riches be more
abundant in quantity, besides the rare and
excellent quality of them ; nay, and thy
glory will be far more transcendent; and
besides, it will abide with thee to all eter-
nity.

As touching Carping-Care, he hath al-
most broken thy heart already : he will not
let thee sleep in the night ; but by telling
thee of thy wants and necessities, sadly
disturbs thy mind, but never gave thee a
farthing; and why shouldst thou hearken
to him any longer ? He is thy utter enemy
as well as mine. Turn him away, and
Christ will care for you.

He has depressed thy very spirits, and
weakened thy body, marred thy senses, es-
pecially the spiritual senses of thy soul ; so
that thou canst not think one serious thought
all the day ; nay, when Sloth and Idleness
will let thee go to hear God's word, he fol-
lows thee thither too ; and so confounds tliy
mind with wandering thoughts, that devo-
tion is spoiled, and you can profit nothing ;
therefore, I beseech you, thrust him out.

Distrust, that faithless fellow, sets on this
base Carping- Care, to perplex thy mind;
and this is not all ; for he tells thee, if thou
turnest Ught-Fingers out of doors, thou
wilt certainly go a begging. Come, P&iy
erty, they are a pack of sad villains, set on
by their great master Apollyon, to bring
thee to shame, as if tlierc was no way to
live, but by breaking God's commandment,
" Thou shalt not steal." And is not he a
wretch that sliall call into question the care
and faithfulness of God, whose promises are
to feed and clothe thee, and to supply all
thy necessities in the way of thy duty, so
that thou shalt " want no good thing" (as
I stated before,) tiiough thou possibly mayst
think that good for thee, which God knows
is not? Isa. xl. 11. Psal. xxiv. 9, 10.

And now, in the last place, let me speak
a few words to those cowardly fellows,
Faint- Heart and Fear-man. Isa. li. 12.

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS,

They would have you fear man more than
God ; and yet I am ready to believe some
of their words take as much place upon your
heart as any thing you heard from the other.

They say I am grown here of late very
contemptible, and am of very little esteem
or credit amongst men, Isa. liii. 3, and that
I shall ere long be constrained to fly into a
corner to hide myself.

To this I answer, I never had much es-
teem amongst great men ; nay, in every age
of the world very few gave credit to me ;
and now being come almost to the end of
my travels into the last and worst age, I
expect no other usage. How should I have
many to admire and fall in love with me,
when the Bible positively says, "All the
world wondered after the beast," Rev. xiii.
3, that is, they were in love with, and ad-
mired Counterfeit Godliness ? and the truth
is, I marvel not at it, because the False
Prophets have ever been more readily em-
braced than the True, and their words gen-
erally believed. •' If another comes in his
own name," saith Jesus Christ, "him you
will receive." The reason is easily dis-
cerned : Because they soothe the people in
their sins, 1 Kings xxii. 13, 22. Alas ! do
not you see how Counterfeit Godliness gives
liberty to men to please their sensual lusts,
teaching an easier way to Heaven than I
ever did or can ? for I always taught, as at
this day, the doctrine of Self-denial, Mark
viii. 34, the necessity of faith in Christ, re-
generation, and mortification of sin, &c.
John iii. 5.

They say, I shall ere long be forced to fly
into some corner ; if it should chance so to
come to pass, wo be to you; and indeed
you had the more need with all speed to
receive me into your house, lest if I retire
you find me not, and so perish in your sins.
John viii. 22.

Again, What though Riches hath reject-
ed me, he never had much kindness for me,
but was generally my enemy ; and where-
as they say, he will be displeased with you,
and warn you out of your house, if you
entertain me, what then? Christ will re-
ceive you into his house, and you had bet-
ter possess him lor a friend, than any prince
upon the earth: "When my father and
mother forsake me," saith David, " the Lord
will take me up." Have you not read of
that poor man whom the Pharisees excom-
municated for cleaving to me, and how the
Lord Jesus graciously received him ? John
ix. 35. Come, Poverty, do not fear the
worst that men can do ; God will help you,
and he is above them all ; and it will be
but a little while before that word shall be
made good, "Your brethren that hated
you, and cast you out for my name's sake,
said, Let the Lord be glorified ; but he will
appear to your joy, and they shall be asham-

ed," Isa. Ixvi. 5. Alas ! man, the time is at
hand when all will be undone, and be forced
to cry out. Wo, wo, wo, that ever they
were born ! except those who have made
me the joy and delight of their hearts.
Say to the righteous, " it shall be well with
him ; wo to the wicked, it shall be ill with
him," Isa. iii. 10. It is sad, indeed, to see
any leave me in my adversity; but they
were false friends, and let them go, John
vi. 66 ; but do thou but kindly embrace me,
and I will keep thee from falling ; nay, thou
shalt find me a sure refuge and defence to
thee in the day of distress, Psl. ix. 9. Yea,
and I will store thee with such good things
as the rich have not. I am resolved to
feast thy soul continually, and never leave
thee nor forsake thee. Isa. xxv. 6. Come,
thou and I shall live most happily together,
notwithstandig thou art poor, if we can but
get my dear friend Content to dwell with
us. 1 Tim. vi. 6. What dost thou say,
Poverty 7 Shall I find admittance?

Notwithstanding all that Godliness could
say. Poverty Avould not give way to him,
but began to give him reviling words, say-
ing, he was born a gentleman, though he
was fallen to decay ; and that he would not
suffer such tumults at his door ; for it seems
while Godliness was praying and pressing
for entertainment, one Persecution, the off-
spring of Adam's eldest son Cain, Gen. iv.
S, had collected many wicked fellows to-
gether, to drive Godliness away from Pov-
erty''s door : so by the opposition within
doors and without. Godliness found no lodg-
ing there ; yea, and finally escaped not with-
out many bitter threatnings, and blasphe-
mous words. Now, one reason why Riches
and Poverty did not receive Tme Godli-
ness, was, because Consideration dwelt
with neither of them, who, being a grave
counsellor, might possibly have given them
better advice, than to deny entertainment
to so estimable a friend. Godliness, after
this, began to be at a stand which way to
travel next; but hearing of one Youth, who
hved not far off", he resolved to see whether
he might not get a dwelling with him, be-
cause he was one that his commission par-
ticularly directed him to visit.

CHAPTER V.

Godliness applies to Youth, who pleads va-
rious Excuses, and at last utterly de-
clines receiving him ai present.

Not discouraged with the mal-treatment
from which he had just escaped. Godliness
hastens to Youth, whom he perceives en-
joying himself in the shade of a beautiful
grove, attended by his companions.

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

With difficulty could he obtain any no-|
tice ; and when he did, Youth looked on
him with some rudeness, and inquired, with
visible resentment at tlie intrusion, who he
was.

GodlL Your true friend and well wish-
er, Godliness. I have come to offer my
company and services, and am ready not
only to teach you how best to enjoy this
present life, but the only method of es-
caping the awful evils of the world to
come.

Youth. Dear Sir, I am not so ignorant
of the sources of deliglit as to need your
counsel ; and as to the future dangers, of
which you spealc, I mean to guard against
them. And beside, do you think me a
wicked reprobate? I mean to injure no
one in my gaiety. My moral character is
without a spot, I assure you. Go to the
old cruel misers, and to thieves, and such
wicked persons, and reform them ; as tor
me, 1 have no need of you at present.

Godli. Aye, Sir, but you need my Mas-
ter's righteousness. Rev. iii. 17, 18, and
also a part in his kingdom ; and these are
some of those glorious commodities I have
to bestow upon you, il' you will entertain
me.

Youth. Aye, there it is ; I perceive I
must entertam you, if I would have them :
but I tell you plainly, your company does
not suit my age. Sir, you will spoil all my
pleasures, if I receive you. You will cause
me also to abandon these dear friends and
companions who rejoice my heart by their
delightful society.

Now, those he called friends were Pride,
Waiiton, Vain-Glory, Love-Lust, Ambition,
Gay-Clothes, Gamester, Please- Friend,
Time-Server, Scornful, Hate-Good, and
Scoffer.

Godli. Young man, believe me, those
pleasures and delights upon which your
heart is so much set are very hateful to
God. and also abase your noble soul, which
is of a sublime extraction. Farthermore,
hear what wise Solomon saith, " Rejoice,
O young man, in the days of thy youth,
and walk in the ways of thy heart, and in
the sight of thine eyes. But know, that
for all these things, God will bring thee
into judgment." You will pay dear at
last for all your sensual pleasures.

Youth. But for all you say, wise Solo-
•mon made trial of all the delights of the
children of man before he condemned them ;
and so will I too, as far as I can.

Godli. It is true, Solomon did so ; and
doth he not, by the sad experience he had
of them, tell you, " All was vanity and
vexation of spirit?" Come, Son, you had
better believe the poison in the cup is dead-
ly, than taste of it.

Youth. Sir, pray speak no more ; I have

not yet sowed all my wild oats ; let me
alone. In due time I shall send for you,

Godli. Let me rather persuade you to
remember that " he that soweth to the flesh,
shall of the flesh reap corruption." Gal.
vi. 8. You had better sow to the spirit.
And now I will inform you what kind of
crop you will have at harvest by sowing to
the flesh.

Yoidh. Why, Sir, what crop shall I
reap?

Godli. You are likely, in the first place,
to reap in this world a crop of disappoint-
ment and regret, as the fruit of your folly
and irreligion. Secondly, you will reap a
crop of infamy and reproach ; for " »in is
the shame of any people." Prov. xiv. 34.
And it will be a wonder if you reap not
a crop of want and beggary too in the end.
Thirdly, you will reap a crop of horrible
and unsupportable guilt, Prov. xviii. 14, by
which means your conscience will so tor-
ment you, that you will not be able to en-
dure it, unless you go on in this ungodly
course so long, that it is seared with a hot
iron, and then you will reap a crop of all
manner of foul and detesUible pollution ;
yea, such corruption, that will cause God to
loath your soul. Fourthly, you Avill reap
also a' crop of all the fearful plagues and
curses that are in the book of God pro-
nounced against wicked and presumptuous
sinners, Deut. xxix. 19, 20, 21. And last-
ly, at the great and terrible day of judg-
ment, you will reap a full crop of God's
eternal wrath and vengeance ; a crop of
endless torments in hell-fire. Matt. xxv. 41.
Now, if you hke to gather in such a harvest,
go on and sow your wild oats plentifully.

Youth. Sir, I intend to sow other seed
hereafter; I desire only a little liberty in
these my youthful days: if you should call
at my door when I am old, I shall be will-
ing to entertain you ; nay. Sir, I do prom-
ise you, I will then open my doors to yon.

Godli. Alas ! my young friend, present
promises to open hereafter to God and True
Godliness, seldom end in real performance :
he who promised to go and work in his mas-
ter's vineyard, went not. Matt. xxi. 30.
Such who put me off with promises to be-
come godly hereafter, it is evident, purpose to
be wicked for the present. Besides, do you
know you shall live to be old ? Or, if you
should, that God will send me then to knock
at your door ? Nay, and let me tell you,
if I should then visit you, I fear it will be
to no purpose, because. Sir, you ripen apace
already in wickedness, and sin isof a harden-
ing nature. Evil habits are not easily chang-
ed ; the Ethiopian may as soon change his
skin, or the leopard his spots, as you may learn
to do well, Jer. xiii. 23, and open to me,
when you have been a long time accustom-
ed to do evil : therefore open to me now.

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS,

Youth, Sir, you will raise my temper
presently, if you leave not off your canting.
You are, I am sure, a gentleman for whom
few or none care. Have any of the rulers
and nobles of the nations embraced you ?
John vii. 48. Why do you not see if they
will entertain you ?

Godli. Nay, pray be not offended with
me ; I seek your profit ; I will do you no
wrong. You shall not lose any thing in
the end by me, though possibly you may
have to part with something for my sake ;
but if you do, I will repay you again an
hundred-fold in this world. Matt. xix. 29;
and in the world to come you shall have
life everlasting. And what though not
many mighty, and not many noble ones do
love me, or will entertain me, 1 Cor. i. 26,
it is not because I do not deserve esteem
from them, but because they are incensed
against me by the devil, and are so in love
with Vice^ my mortal enemy. Sir, I am
abused, and rendered very odious by wick-
ed men, as if I were factious, restless, and
seditious. Acts xxiv. 25. And this is the
reason why I am so slighted and contemn-
ed.

Youth. Aye, and to speak the truth, I
cannot believe but you are the cause of all
the present discord, animosities, and confu-
sions that are amongst us ; for since you
came into this country, what disputes, con-
tentions, and distractions, have been here ?

Godli. I and ray children ever, I must
confess, were thus censured and falsely ac-
cused, though never so stigm.atized as now
of late, Isa. viii. 18. Jerusalem of old was
called a rebellious and bad city, because I
dwelt in it; and my enemies said of old
time. Sedition had been there, and that it
was a great enemy to kings and govern-
ments, Ezra iv. 12, 15. But it is no mar-
vel I am thus abused, considering my Lord
and Master himself was loaded with like
calumnies, John x. 20, being accused with
sedition, and called an enemy to Cgesar like-
wise. But let not this discourage you from
receiving me, for all these things are utter-
ly contrary to my nature, and abhorred by
me and all my good friends.

Youth. It will not be for my honor to
give you a reception; I shall be derided
and scoffed at, should I do it, and be look-
ed upon as a foolish person : therefore pray
depart.

Godli. What if you lose the honor of
this world ? — I will raise you to far greater :
"For honor and riches are with Christ;
yea, lasting riches and righteousness."
Prov. viii. 18. John xii. 26. They that re-
ceive me, and serve Christ, God will honor.

Youth. Pray let me alone until another
time, until I am a little older.

Godli. Sir, my Master commands you
to " remember him now in the days of your

youth," Eccles. xii. 1, and to remember
him, is to embrace me : and let me tell you,
to reject me, is rebellion against him who is
the King of kings, and Lord of lords, John
xii. 48. Shall not what he requires be
done ?

Youth. I have other business at present
of greater concern than to attend on such
a guest ; take your answer, therefore, and
be gone.

Godli. Do not mistake yourself To
receive me, and to lead a godly Hfe, is bu-
siness of the greatest concernment. Were
you not made and sent hither on purpose
to serve and honor your Creator, and not
to live like an irrational being, and serve
the enemy of all righteousness, as hereto-
fore you have done? Isa. xliii. 21. Acts
xvi. 27. If you do persist in these courses,
be asssured you will perish in hell at last.

Upon this the young gallant was in a
great rage, and swore he would be reveng-
ed on him, and on all his friends, if he did
not keep at a distance. And presently all
his companions and attendants, mentioned
before, stirred him up to fall upon Godliness
immediately, and force him away. Pride
swelled; Fam-G/or// vaunted himself ; and
both bid him disdain the proposal Godli-
ness had made. Tinie-Server and Please-
Friends bid him mind what was the cus-
tom of the times, and do as other youth
did. Scornful looked with contempt upon
True Godliness; Gamester., set him to
play at cards ; Love-LvM enticed him to
the abodes of infamy ; Scoffer and Scorn-
ful jeered and derided him : nay, and not
only so, but made base songs of him ; and
Hate- Good commanded them all to fall upon
him, and banish him out of the world. And
had it not been for fear of some neighbors,
though they were but moral people, he had
doubtless been utterly trodden down under
their feet. But happily he escaped this
time also, and got away, leaving the poor
deluded YoiUh to himself, resolved to grat-
ify his own sensual and luxurious appetite.

CHAPTER VL

Godliness at the Door of Old-Age ; the
Beasons why he refused to entertain him.

Godliness, being rejected both by Rich-
es, Poverty, and Youth, resolved to see
whether he might not be entertained by a
certain decrepit and feeble person, called
Old- Age, concluding with himself, that it
was very probable his dear friend. Consid-
eration, whom he had a long time souglit
for, might lodge in his house ; for, said he,
surely Wisdom, though he dwell not with
Riche.t, Poverty^ nor YoiUh, yet doubtless

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS

he doth with the aged, Job xxxii. 7. He
therefore made directly up to his door,
where he knocked and called a considera-
ble time without any answer ; but at last
Old-Age inquired who was at his door.

Godli. Your real friend, TV-we Godli-
ness, who would fain have a lodging with
you.

Old- Age. Godliness! I have heard, I
think, of you, but do not know you. Be-
sides, I am not able to rise up from my
chair to let you in. I have such a weak
and crazy body, and am so full of pains
and aches, that 1 have enough to do to sus-
tain my own infirmities: pray come anoth-
er time : do not now trouble me.

Godli. Alas I Fatlier, you may not live
another day ; death may seize you beibre
to-morrow morning, Prov. xxvii. 1. Why
should you put me off? I came to you
when you were young, and then you stated
that you could not welcome me, because
you had not sowed all your wild oats, and
you were too young, and I was not a fit
companion for Youth. Moreover, you then
said, when you were old, you would let me
ill ; and will you put me off row too ?

But all the means Godliness could use
were of no avail ; Old- Age was settled so
on his lees, and had had such rebellious
servants and children, that they would not
suffer him to show Godliness the least fa-
vor, Jer. xlviii 11. The names of some
of them were Weary-Limbs, Dim-Eyes,
Peevish, Hard-Hearty Iinpenitency, Self-
Conceit, Enmity, Unbelief, and Ignorance ;
with many more of the like sort. The
first I named were his own natural off-
spring, and somewhat younger than the
rest. Hard-Heart he had nourished and
fed continually from his youth, for Godli-
ness found him at his house when he gave
him a visit in the prime of his days ; but
now he was grown very stout, stubborn,
and obdurate. This fellow made Old-Age
not to regard at all tlTe threats of God.
And he was so void of pity, that he stirred
Old-Age up to stifle poor Conscience, who
kept his accounts, and at every turn to tread
him under foot, if he had at any time so
much light and power as to tell him of his
debts, viz. what abundance of abominable
sins he had committed against God ; and
not only so, but not to regard or pity the sad
, estate of his own soul. Nor did he con-
cern himself with the low condition of God's
church, but would curse and swear, and
tell many storie.'? and lies, and now and
then be drunk, notwithstanding he was
even ready to drop into hell ! And all this
comes to pass through the evil nature of
this Hard-Heart, and his companions En
mity and Unbelief.

These three had also bred up another
graceless inmate as bad as themselves,

one Impenitency ; so that all that could be
said to him by Godliness, and his servant,
Theology, concerning the detestable nature
of sin, and his miserable condition, yet he
could not be brought to repent, nor to let
one tear fall for his sins ; so that that word
of the blessed apostle was made good in
him, "But after thy hard and impenitent
heart, thou treasurest up unto thyself wrath
against the day of wrath, and revelation
of the righteous judgment of God, who will
render to every man according to his deeds."
Rom. ii. 5, 6.

Ignorance was in Youth's house, and in
Poveity''s house, but not such a sottish Ig-
norance as seemed to be with Old-Age ;
for he aflirmed that God did not trouble
himself to take notice of what men did be-
low, but was taken up about high matters
in heaven ; neither indeed could he believe
that he saw through dark clouds. " Is not
God," saith he, ''in the height of heaven?
and behold the height of the stars, how
high they are ! And how doth God know ?
Can he judge through the dark clouds?
Thick clouds are a covering to him, that
he seeth not ; and he walketh in the circuit
of heaven." Job xxii. 12, 13, 14.

Moreover, he and Unbelief told him that
he had as good a heart as the best ; and
that to hear and read some good prayers,
and to mean well, was godliness enough
for him. Besides, they would not suti'er
him to believe that God ever cast any of
his creatures, whom he had made, into a
lake of fire and brimstone. Nay, he was
almost persuaded by them to believe there
was no hell at all. As it regarded heaven,
they told him there might be some such
state, and that though he might not have
so elevated a place there as some men, yet
he should get in among the crowd and find
some corner, for heaven was a very spa-
cious place.

Self- Conceit caused him to think so high-
ly of himself, that notwithstanding all that
Godliness could say to confute Ignorance
and Unbelief, he did not regard it all ; for
he said, they were all fools who troubled
themselves about sin and anotlier world ;
and that he Avho had lived so many years,
understood better, and knew what to do ;
and bid Godliness cease his importunity;
for, said he, every tub must st&nd upon its
own bottom ; and sure I am, God v/ill not
cast away an old man. I was born a Chris-
tian, and made a child of God, a member
of Christ, an heir of the kingdom of heaven
by my baptism, and would you persuade me
to think my condition is bad at last? No,
Sir, I understand what religion is very well.
Do not mistake yourself, for I do not see
that I am much pressed by our parson to
strict godliness ; but to come now and then
to hear prayers, and receive the sacrament,

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

and this I am resolved to do. And though
my condition is considered so bad by you,
I am sure there are many in our parish, and
good churchmen, as bad if not far worse
than I.

Godliness by this time perceived Old-Age
was so hardened in his sins, and trained up
by Ignorance for so long a time, that it was
next to an impossibihty to think the evil
habits he had got by being accustomed so
long to those ways of Vice and Ungodliness,
should ever be changed; and considering
he was become so vuiteachable and self
conceited, was resolved to leave him, not
thinking it was worth his time to wait long-
er at his door, nor give any reply to those
base bred children and servants he kept in
his house ; for Peevish made him so snap-
pish that there was no speaking to hirri;
remembering that word of the prophet,
" Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the
leopard his spots? Then may you, who
are accustomed to do evil, learn to do well."
Jer. xiii. 23. Yet he could not but take
pity on him, considering his age ; therefore
he gave him the following general reply,
and departed.

Godli. Father Old-Age, it grieves me
to find you thus blind, and hardened in your
evil ways; and the rather, because I see
your enemy, death, now standing with his
sword drawn here at your door, ready to
enter in, and hell is at his heels. Alas !
death, who now shakes his sword over your
head, will soon sheath it in your heart.
What will you do when you come to stand
before God in judgment? There is but a
little airy breathing between you and eter-
nal burning : it is better to have your eyes
open on earth, to bewail your sins, than to
have your eyes open in hell to bewail your
sufferings; though you will not let me in
now, who would make you happy, yet you
will not be able very long to keep death
out, who will make you eternally miserable.
Psal. Ixxxix. 84. It is sad you will not see
your danger, till you cannot escape it. As
I now stand at your door, saying, Open to
me, but am not let in ; so you ere long will
say, " Lord, Lord, open to me ;" but you
will be kept out, for none but those who re-
ceive me into their hearts on earth, will be
received by Christ hereafter into heaven.
Those who contemn Godliness here, will be
contemned for their Ungodliness hereafter.
Your poor, deluded soul, who thinks its state
so good without grace and regeneration,
will find it bad ere long, under wrath and
condemnation : " For except a man be born
again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of
God." John iii. 3. This is the day of
God's long-suffering, but quickly will come
the day of your long-suffering ; for he whose
mercy you have abused, while vou live,

Vol. 3.— F.

will let out liis vengeance against you to
eternity when you die. Thess. i. 8, 9.

Much to the same purpose he spake to
him, and with deep sorrow left him to perish
in his sins !

CHAPTER VII.

True Godhness, after this, travelled towards
the city Jerusalem, near to which was a
small village called Religion, in which
dwelt Mr. Legalist, at whose door he
knocked. The cause why he did not en-
tertain him.

Godliness, havmg hitherto barely es-
caped with his life, thought it now full time
to leave those parts, where he had long
travelled up and down, and suffered many
hardships, (being generally slighted and
contemned by all where he came) and to
travel into some other country, amongst
people (if he could find such) who were not
so abominably wicked, or at least not such
visible and open enemies to him as others
were ; and he thought it might be best to
bend his course towards Jerusalem; but
before he entered Salem, he perceived a
village lying near the city, and the name of
that town he understood was Religion ; he
therefore turned aside thither, and being
informed that Mr. Legalist lived at the
town's end, near Mount Sinai, he resolved
to give him a visit, and immediately came
to his door, where with great earnestness
he knocked ; and he, being within, spake to
this purpose :

Legal. Who is at my door ?

Godli. Sir, a stranger to you, though
your very good friend, and one who would
gladly have a lodging in your house.

Legal. What is your name ?

Godli. Sir, my name is True Godliness.

Legal. I wonder much you should say
True Godliness is a stranger to me, or I to
him. He has long been a cherished mem-
ber of my family. Do be gone, you must
be an impostor.

Godli. Sir, it is a mistake ; you have
been greatly deceived.

Legal. What, do I not know TVue God-
liness ? This is strange ! Do not he and
I converse together every day ?

Godli. Sir, it is indeed true that there
are one or two persons who go sometimes
by my name ; and it is very probable you
may be acquainted with one of them. Pray
what are his manners ? What instructions
does he give you ? For by these I shall
know who your guest is.

Legal. Why, Sir, he teaches me to keep
the commandmente of God, to lead a right-

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS,

eous life, to do unto all men as I would
tliey should do unto me.

Godli. O ! Sir, that is my friend and
honest neighbor Morality, one that I love
very well, and I am sure it is your great
ignorance to take him for me : he will not
say his name is Tnie GocUinsss ; for though
in some things we are a little alike, I teach-
ing the same doctrine you mention, yet we
differ exceedingly in many things. First,
we agree in saying you must keep God's
commands. Secondly, he says that you
must be righteous ; I say the Hke. And,
thirdly, that you should do unto all men as
you would have them do to you ; I say the
very same, it being my Master's own doc-
trine. But we differ prodigiously on other
points. He teaches you to seek justification
by doing ; but I, by believing ; he by keep-
ing the law ; I by God's free grace, through
the merits of Christ.

Legal. What is that, friend, you say?
Are we not required to keep the law of
God?

Godli. Sir, you ought to keep it as far
as you are able, though not as it is the law
of works, but as it is the law of Christ
You must not look for righteousness and
justification by your keeping the law in any
sense, (it was on this very block the Jews
of old stumbled, and were broken in pieces,)
because you have sinned, and daily break
the law ; and the least transgression there-
of exposeth you to the wratih and curse of
God.

Legal. I know I cannot perfectly keep
the law, but I will do, by the help of God,
what I can. And wherein I, through weak-
ness, transgress the law, God is merciful,
and I trust he will forgive me.

Godli. Forgive you! Why, he hath
said, "He will in no wise clear the guilty."
Moreover, "What the law saith, it saith to
them that are under the law, that all mouths
may be stopped, and the whole world be-
come guilty liefore God." Rom. iii. 19.

Legal. What do you say? Will not
God forgive me, who am a penitent person ?
Oh ! what a horrible doctrine is this ! I be-
lieve he will not forgive the impenitent, and
such guilty ones, that the Scriptures speak
of

Godli. Mistake not. Sir, all are guilty ;
all have broken the law or first covenant ;
all are under sin and wrath. It is not your
repentance that will do ; God will not for-
give any man, let him bo who he will, ex-
cept he believes in Jesus Christ, and takes
hold of the merits of his blood. " By the
deeds of the law no flesh shall be justified."
God will not pardon your sins, notwith-
standing your repentance, as a simple act
of his mercy, unless you fly to him through
Christ, who hath satisfied his justice ; for

what you say renders Christ's glorious un-
dertaking void and unnecessary; and so
casts a great reflection upon the wisdom of
God, in sending his Son mto the world.

Legal. How do you make that appear?

Godli. Do you not say you will do what
you can to keep the law ; and wherein you
transgress, God will through his mercy for-
give you ? Now, if God accepts of your
obedience in keeping the law, and forgives
all your deviations, as a simple act of his
mercy, and that hereby you are justified and
accepted by him; why then did he send
Jesus Christ into the world, to die the curs-
ed death of the cross ? For if by this way
righteousness and salvation are attainable,
it is evident Christ is dead in vain ; for
could not God have done all this if Christ
had never come? Thou art a wretched
creature ; look to Christ, or tliou art undone.

Legal. Nay, Sir, do not mistake me
neither; I do not think my righteousness
justifies me any otherwise than through the
merits of Christ.

Godli. Sir, you err exceedingly; it ia
not your personal righteousness, no, not
through Christ's merits, that justifies, but
the merits of Christ, received by faith alone.
Alas ! now you discover indeed what a great
stranger you are to me: you are one of
those just men, it seems, who never went
astray, or righteous ones that Christ came
not to call. Alas ! I always declare and
testify, that all men must perish without
faith in Christ. Doth not the text positively
say, "He that believeth not shall be damn-
ed?" Mark xvi. 16. "He that hath tJic
Son, hath life ; and he that hath not the
Son, shall not see life, but the wrath of God
abides upon him." John iii. 36. Sir, "there
is no other name given under heaven,
whereby men can be saved." Acts iv. 12.
" Another foundation can no man kn', than
that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ."
1 Cor. iii. 11. Come, let me in, and I will
expel those dark clouds, and teach you
another kind of doctrine. I will help yon
to be holy, and not to depend upon it ; to be
righteous, but not to trust in it ; I will lead
you to say, " In the Lord have I righteous-
ness ;" and that he is made of God " wis-
dom, and righteousness, and sanctification
and redemption." But I forewarn you, if I
come in, you must turn out those helpless
and unprofitable servants you have kept.

Legal. What servants Avould you have
me turn out ?

Godli. Mr. Mis- Belief, and Good- Opin-
ion, and Self-Righteousness you must turn
out. Beside, you must also remove your
dwelling farther off from Mount Sinai ; for
look about you, be gone quickly, for I see
dreadful flashes of lightning, the mountain
seems to be all on fire : and hark ! do you

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS,

not hear it thunder, Legalist 7 God is
angry with you, Sir ; there is no seeing his
face but through a Mediator.

Legal. What, most I turn my tried ser-
vants out of doors '?

Godli. There is no help for it ; you must
cast out Blind-Zeal^ Ignorance^ and Legal-
Hearty too, for these are dangerous persons ;
and in their room place True-Zeal, Right-
Faith, Broken-Heart, and Good-Under-
standing. Nay, Sir, and let me tell you, if
you do not quickly expel these out of your
tabernacle, you will be undone, and perish
in your sins ; for notwithstanding your great
hopes of heaven, they will soon thrust you
down into hell ; for " publicans and harlots
go into heaven before you."

Upon this he began to be very angry,
and gave True Godliness hard words, call-
ing him Libertine and Antinomian, charac-
■ Iters that Godliness gre£j,tly detests. More-
over Legalist told him he was sure he whom
he had already received into his house was
, True Godliness, and he but an impostor.
Finally, in a great rage he bid him begone
from his door.

Upon this, Godliness perceiving Legalist
;was so wedded to his own opinion, that
, (there was no hope of getting entertainment
in his house, left him, and travelled a little
/urther into the town, being told that seve-
ral persons lived not far off, who were
Miought to be sound Christians.

I CHAPTER VII L

lodliness encounters a Man of strange^
Countenance, who it appears was an
Antinomian.

As Godliness passed on from the house of
Jiis self-righteous professor, he was accosted
■*y a haughty looking person who seemed
jgreatly disposed to dispute upon religion.
1 The matter of good works was soon
hroached, and with no small self-confidence
]|ie rattled over his threadbare story.

Godliness. I am afraid you are not
Sound. Pray, friend, what do you believe
ibout justification ?

Antinomian. I believe all the elect are

personally and actually justified from eter-

lity, and beloved by the Lord with a love

bf complacency, before they believe, even

as they are after being called and sanctified.

^ Godli. You certainly are very corrupt

ftn your judgment, and hold a doctrine Jesus

,f Christ abhors. Besides, you talk as if you

understand not common sense : can any be

actually and personally justified before they

actually and personally exist ?

Anti. I believe the elect were all actu-
ally justified from eternity.

Godli. What, actually and personally
justified, and yet actually and personally
condemned, at one and the same time!
This is strange. Adam, for his first sin,
fell under wrath and condemnation, and
being a public person, all partake of his
corrupt nature ; and thus are children of
wrath, as well as by their own actual trans-
gressions, and so abide until they are trans-
planted out of that dead root, and are im-
planted into Jesus Christ, and partake of a
vital union with him. John iii. 18, 36. Can
righteousness be imputed and sin charged
upon a person at the same time ? Or are
unbelievers justified persons? To justify
or acquit a sinner, implies he was before
guilty and condemned ; and thus it was
with all believers, before they were united
to Christ, as the word of God testifieth, and
so doth the Holy Ghost also, by conviction,
when it first works upon the hearts and
consciences of sinners ; therefore your no-
tion charges the Holy Ghost with being a liar.

Anti. I tell you, I like you not, nor do I
regard what you say. I am for free grace ;
God sees no sin, nor ever did, in his elect,
nor need they mourn for sin, nor indulge
any doiibt ; nay, though they are ungodly,
their state is good, say what you will.

Godli. You are such as expose me and
my friends to reproach; your doctrine,
alas ! tends to looseness and ungodliness.
I also hear that your preachers never pray
for pardon of sin ; and also tolerate igno-
rant people to rend themselves from the
true churches of Christ, and will hardly
allow any to be true ministers but them-
selves. Those of your communion I see
are just like the church of Laodicea ; that
is, " increased in goods, and have need of
nothing" in their own sight, not poor in
spirit. This is manifest, because your
haughty preachers are so full, that they
need not confess their sins, nor ask pardon
of God.

The case of this man was so hopeless
that Godliness would not stand to dispute
with him, and therefore passed on.

CHAPTER IX.

Godliness came to Mr. Formalist's door,
who bid him very welcome ; but he stis-
pecting his integrity, and that he har-
bored divers grand enemies of his, par-
ticularly one Hypocrisy, hesitated to go
in. How Hypocrisy came to be discover-
ed. Formalist at last refused to entertain
True Godliness.

Godliness being informed that there was
another great professor living in this village
of Religion, he thought it was convenient

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

for him to see whether he might not get a
lodging in his house, because he was a man
whom all the neighborhood said had a great
love to True Godliness : nay, many verily
thought he had for a long time taken up
his lodging with him, and wondered when
they heard him ask for his house, (for by
that means they perceived he was a stran-
ger to him,) but it was a considerable time
before he could find where he dwelt ; for it
appeared he was called by another name,
viz. Devotion. But at last, coming by one
man's door, and by another, he heard a man
at prayer, and he spake so loud, that all
who walked along the street, might hear
him : he then concluded, it was very proba-
ble he might dwell there ; and to liis door
he came and knocked.

Formal. Who 's there ?

Godli. My name is True Godliness.

Formal. TVue Godliness! Pray, Sir,
come in : there is none in all the world I
love more dearly ; the beet room in all my
house is at your service. Pray where have
you been, and what news do you hear ?
Are the Imperialists and Turks at peace,
and all things adjusted 1 How go things in
the world ? How doth it fare with our poor
Protestant brethren in France? What
news from Scotland ? When will the times
be better ?

Many such questions he asked, and pro-
fessed abundance of respect to True God-
liness., and (as you heard) bid him come in,
but never offered to open the door. Godli-
ness was grieved to find him so full of
words ; but more especially, because he
took up his time, and troubled his mind so
much after news ; nay, and that too, when
he should open to True Godliness^ and just
upon ending his devotion ; yet nevertheless.
Godliness very mildly answered him to this
purpose :

Godli. Sir, as to your first question, I
answer, I have wandered about from place
to place, to seek entertainment, I mean, a
fit and convenient lodging for a little time,
for it will not be long ere I have done trav-
elling ; but I am fallen into such an evil and
perilous time, that scarcely any one will
show me the favor to take me in, and make
me welcome. Riches, Poverty, Youth and
Old Age, have all refused me, and shut
.their doors against me ; and since I came
into those parts, and particularly to your
town, where every one concluded I should
be most kindly embraced, the very first man
I came to, hath denied me entertainment
and not only so, but called me hard names,
and declared I was a vile impostor.

Formal. Wliat man is that? pray in^
form me.

Godli. My friend, to answer your ques-
tion, the man is called Legalist.

Formal. O ! Sir, there is not a man in

all this town more haughty, proud, and
conceited than he ; he concludes, I warrant
you, that he hath godliness enough already;
he makes, in truth, the whole of religion to
consist in principles of morality. I have
heard him say that if a man do but square
his life as near as he can according to the
law of the ten commandments, not being
guilty of gross sins, nor wilfully break any
precepts of the two tables, he shall be saved.
He never considers all the while the neces-
sity of faith and regeneration ; and although
he trusted thus to his own righteousness, he
is a very worldly, proud, and passionate
person ; nay, and he himself confesseth, he
is a sinner, and yet would be justified by
the law ; whereas you know the least sins,
lusts of the heart, and evil thoughts, are a
breach of it; and the smallest breach is
death and eternal wrath, without a com-
pensation made to offended justice ; and
none was able to do this but Jesus Christ ;
and none have the blessing of his under-
taking, but such as believe.

Godli. You seem to have a good under-
standing, and can talk well ; but how comes
it about, you let me stand all this while at
your door? Is this your kindness to me?
What avails your knowledge and parts,
except you entertain Tnie Godliness 7

Formal. Dear Sir, have I not opened to
you already ? you are in my affections, and
I will farther open to you ; pray come in,
and do as you please in my ho\jse.

Godli. I fear you mistake ; you have
opened to me in one respect, but not in
another : you seem to like my form, but not
my power ; my external rites, but not my
internal life. I am indeed received into
your head, but not into your heart. The
truth is, I suspect you.

Formal. Suspect me, Sir ! for what ?

Godli. That you have one or two im-
placable enemies of mine hid secretly in
your house.

Formal. Who; I, Sir! God forbid I
should hide any enemies of Tnie Godli-
ness ! Who are they ? Pray tell me their
names ? They shall be instantly dismissed.

Godli. Old-Man, Carnal-Affections, and
Hypocrisy.

Formal. As touching Old-Man, there is
no Christian can be quite rid of him ; God
forbid I should show him any countenance ;
and as to Carnal-Affections, in this you
mistake, for my affections are spiritiial.
But why should you think I harbor Hypoc-
risy in my house ? I will assure you, there
is none in all the world I hate more than
that base fellow, for I know God hates him;
and shall I show countenance to him?
Lord, far be it from me.

Godli. Nay, Formalist, be not too con-
fident ; it is not your bare denial of it which
is sufficient to acquit you of the suspicion I

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS,

have of you upon this account. I will see
if I cannot find him out ; for you have a
certain officer in your house, who I am sure
can make a righteous decision, if he be not
basely corrupted and blinded by your pre-
tending so much love and zeal to seeming
holiness. I know he will not flatter any
man, but speak according to his light and
knowledge impartially at all times. Sir, I
■yvill appeal to him.

Formal. What is his name ?

Godli. His name is Ccmscieiice.

Upon this, Conscience was called, and
inquired of after this manner :

Godli. Conscience., I require you in the
fear of God, to answer me a question or
two concerning your master : Doth he not
secretly lodge and hide one in his house,
called Hypocrisy? For I very much sus-
pect hira herein to be guilty ; what do you
say?

Crni. Sir, if you please to give me his
character, or give me some certain signs of
his behavior and properties, whereby I may
know him, I will faithfully discover all that
I understand as touching this matter.

Godli. Conscience., I thank you ; you
speak like an honest man, and indeed I have
always found you impartial according to
your light. I will then give you such a de-
scription of this subtle and deceitful enemy
of mine, that you cannot well mistake ; and
this I shall do by propounding a few ques-
tions to you.

First. Sir, was your master ever thor-
oughly wounded in the sense of sin, being
convinced of its ugly and abominable na-
ture ; there is nothing more hateful to God
than that ; not only convinced of the evil
which attends it, or is the fruit of it, but
that cursed evil there is in it, being utterly
contrary to the holy and pure nature of God,
a breach of his law ; and that which hath
made a breach between God and man, de-
faced the image of God in him, and is the
cause of all that abominable enmity that is
in his heart against God, and me his bless-
ed offspring ; and also makes a man in love
with the ways of the devil ; nay, to be like
the devil, conformable to him, and to do his
will.

Secondly. Is there no one sin that se-
cretly he loves and hves in (the evil habit
never being broken ?) Have you not found
him now and then telling a lie for his ad-
vantage, or telling tales or stories, adding
to them, to please the company, or to ex-
cuse himself, when accused, that so he may
gain credit? Is he not sometimes over-
taken by drunkenness ? Is he not proud,
minding more the honor, praise, and ap-
plause of men, in what he doth in religion,
than the praise of God 1 Is he not cove-
tous 1 Does he give according to his ability
to the poor ? Does he not rob God to serve

the world 1 I mean, neglect hearing God's
word, and other indispensable duties, for
worldly profit, and so prefer the world above
the word ? Does he never in trading,
offend you, by speaking better of his com-
modities than they deserve? Is not the
world more in his love and affections than
God and Jesus Christ? Does he always
give just weight and measure, and not take
unlawful profit ? Does he not make gain
of Godliness., and use religion as a cloak to
cover his secret sin ? Does he concern
himself for the interest of the gospel, and,
by his open-heartedness, show upon that
account, he loves Christ above son or
davighter ? Is he resolved to part with all,
rather than to sin against God, and to of-
fend you his Conscience! Does he see
more evil in the least sin, than in the great-
est suffering ?

Thirdly. Does he desire as much to have
his sins mortified as pardoned ; to be made
holy here, as well as happy hereafter ? Is
he as much in love with tlie work of holi-
ness as with the wages of holiness ? Does
he love the word of God because of the
purity of it ? Is he willing to bear the cross
as well as wear the crown ; to be with
Christ in his temptations here, as well as
with Christ in his exaltations hereafter?
To live to God on earth, as well as to live
with God in heaven ?

Fourthly. Is he the same in private as
in pubhc ? Does he not rest satisfied upon
the bare performance of duty, not minding
whether he hath met with God or not?
Does he pray in private as if men saw him;
and in public, as knowing God sees him ?
Does not his satisfaction more lie in hia
asking of God, than in his receiving from
God ? Does he not seek more for suitable
words in prayer, than for a suitable heart ?
Does he not study more for acute expres-
sions to affect the hearts of others, than to
meet with powerful impressions upon his
own? Does he not lengthen his prayers
before others, and hurry them over in pri-
vate ? Does he as much seek after what
he needs from God, as that which he needs
of the world ?

Fifthly. Can he bear reproofs kindly for
his faults, and take them patiently ; nay,
and esteem him his greatest friend, who
deals most candidly with him ? Is he ready
to take shame to himself, and give glory to
God ? Can he be contented in the way of
well doing, though he meet with little sen-
sible comfbrt from God, or outward re-
spect from saints ?

Sixthly. Does he as much desire to have
his heart filled with grace, as his head with
knowledge ? Does he take as much care to
make the glory of God his end, as the com-
mand of God his ground, in what he does ?

Seventhly. Is he not more severe in press-

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

ing the smaller concerns of religion, than in
urging the greater Does he not recjuire
those duties of others, which he himself is
loth to practice ? Is he not more curious
to know other men's conditions than his
own ?

Eighthly. Has he received a whole Christ
with a whole heart ? 1. A whole Christ
comprehends all his offices, and a whole
heart comprehends all his faculties. Has
he recieved Christ, not only as a priest to
die for him, but also as a prince to rule
over him ? Does he obey all God's precepts,
as well as believe all God's promises ? 2.
As to his faculties, his understanding may
be somewhat enlightened, but his affections
may be carnal, and his will adverse to Tme
Godliness; is his heart divided? Come
Conscience, I do now command you, in the
presence of the great and dreadful God
who searches all hearts, to make a right-
eous decision ; tell me plainly, is my ene
my Hypocrisy here or not 1 By these hints
you may easily know him.

Con. Sir. I must confess Hypocrisy is
here ; now I have found him out ; nay, Sir,
and he hath hid himself in his house ever
since he came to live in this town of Reli
gion. His greatest care has been to keep
his name from being reproached by men.
Should I tell of those lusts which he har-
bors in his heart, and what favor he shows
to that old man (you mentioned before,) I
should quite shame him. He prays, hears
and reads, but I have often found him very
weary of these duties ; nay, Sir, he would
seldom pray at all, were it not to quiet me ;
besides, he performs them with a sad, cold,
dead, carnal, and lifeless spirit He cares
much for the small things of religion, but
neglects the more weighty; nay, there is
one thing more I will state ; as he does not
love strict Godliness himself, so his heart
is ready to rise against such who outdo him.
Sir, I plainly perceive, he is a mere dissem-
bler, yet he would be thought as religious a
man as any in the town. I find him much
abroad, finding faults in others, or espying
tlie mote that is in his brother's eye, but he
never perceives the beam that is in his
own ; nay, and he is ready to fall out with
manv good Christians, because they will
not follow him in habit, mode, and gesture,
& c. In a word, most of those black marks
of Hypocrisy, at which you hinted, I find
in him.

Gndli. Say no more ; I see I was not
mistaken. Now Formalist, how can you
pretend kindness to me, and thus secretly
entertain one of my worst enemies? Sir,
it is you who has brovight so great a re-
proach upon this poor town Religion, and
on ail iti! inhabitants ; nay, and it is through
vour means I am so vilified and condemned
by Igtioreuvce, for he is ready to conclude.

that all my friends and true favorites are
such as yourself, viz. mere loose and for-
mal hypocrites. Oh ! you are like to be
undone and perish forever, unless you soon
turn this enemy of mine out of doors ; for I
expect no other result but that you will in
a little time fall into apostacy ; nut should
vou die first, yet assure yourself you will
be lost ; for hell is prepared for such as you
are. You are in the worst condition of all
men; for tlie wicked hate you, because
you pretend so much love to Religion and
Godliness; God also, because you have
not real, only pretended love to them, being
not sincere and upright in your profession.
Formalist at this began to be very angry,
being greatly offended at Ttub Godliness ;
for he could not endure to see his con-
dition depicted in this manner, nor to hear
of his present or future misery, being per-
suaded by Mr. Vain-Hope, Unbelief', and
Good Opinion, to think his condition might
be safe enough. However Vain-Hope told
him, though at present his state might be
doubtful, yet he sliould have many days on
earth, and that he might repent, and set all
things right before he died ; whose word
and promise he adventured to take, and so
bade Tme Godliness adieu ; and no man's
state in all liis travels did he indeed more
lament than that of bhnded, hopeless For-
malist.

CHAPTER X.

Godliness, travelling farther into the Town
(called Religion,) saw many People who
had been great professors, retiring from
the Town as fast as they coidd. In the
discourse he had with one of them, the
tiature and danger of Apostacy is des-
cribed.

Godliness had no sooner left Formalist's
door, and gone a little fartlier into the town
of Religion, than he espied a great number
of people hasting out as fast as possible ;
nay, he observed some of them ran, though
others went slowly. At first he wondered
what occasioned this commotion, because
the town was a little before supposed to be
as sale and honorable a place to dwell in,
as any in all the country, and had as great
and glorious privileges belonging to it ; but
upon inquiry he was told, there was a num-
ber of lions, evening wolves, and other evil
beasts (which had for a long been shut up
in their derts) getting out; and, having a
great while been kept without prey, they
were afraid they should be torn in pieces.

True Godliness at this seemed so deep
concerned, that he could not let them pass
without speaking to them ; and observing
that one of them looked like a sober man^

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

though he hung down his head, as if he
had been ashamed, resolved to have a httle
discourse with him. To him he thus ad-
dressed himself.

Godli. Sir, What is the reason you
leave this town, and haste away so fast ?
When you first took up your dwelling here,
did you not intend to abide in it as long as
you lived ?

Apostate^ (for that it seems was his name.)
Truly, Sir, I did intend it ; I had a great
love for this poor town, but I must now re-
move out, and be gone.

Godli. Why must you 1 Is there a ne-
cessity laid upon you to quit this place, this
honorable town of Religion 7
■ Apost. Sir, I shall be destroyed else, for
the walls of late are gone much to decay ;
I do not see that safety to reside here as
formerly: besides, they say there are a
great number of lions, wolves, and other
beasts of prey, breaking out upon us, and I
am afraid, if I shouki escape with my Hfe,
yet having a few sheep and lambs, they will
devour them: truly, Sir, I do it to save
what I have ; yet I wish very well to the
place.

Godli. I am heartily sorry that you in-
dulge such fears ; let me persuade you to
return, and rest in this town. Sir, do not
fear those lions ; for God hath said, " He
will break the teeth of the lions, the old
lion, and the lions' whelps." Job iv. 10
But what though they should destroy your
substance, is not your soul worth more than
all the world ? Mat. xxvi. 26. Come, go
back again with me, and I will dwell with
you, and be a sure defence to you, so that you
will not be hurt, let lions, wolves, and devils
too, do what they can. My name is True
Godliness. Sir, I have saved many thou-
sands from ruin in as great danger as you
can be.

Apost. Sir, there will be no safe living
for me. I must quit the place, the town is
besieged.

Godli. What though it is besieged, God
is able to defend it, and will be a wall of
fire about it. But, Sir, if you proceed, I
fear there will be no end to your wander-
ings. You must go far indeed to find a
place as safe as the city you are leaving.

Apost. Sir, do not mistake me ; I do not
intend to go far, and am fully determined
to return again when the danger is over :
at present I will go but a little way out of
town.

Godli. Sir, you will show yourself to be
a traitorous and hypocritical person, if you
leave this town in its distress. If the dan-
ger be great which attends it, you had the
more need to abide in it, to strengthen and
encourage the poor inhabitants. Pray do
not show so base and cowardly a spirit.
What is this less than to betray the town

to enemies 1 Is not the strength of any
place the people 1 Besides, your flying
encourages the adversaries ; for by this
means they may think to frighten all out,
and then with much ease take the town,
and utterly destroy it. Beside, you weaken
the hands, and grieve the hearts, of all true
Christians, whose chief treasure lies in the
town, and cannot be removed ; and it be-
ing also tlieir spiritual native place, they
resolve to abide in it to the last, let what
will come. You say you intend to return
igain when the danger is over. What
dangers you see above others, to move
you to quit the town, I know not ; but let
me tell you, few who leave from fear of
human loss or danger, return again. You
say you intend to go but a little way ; alas !
you cannot tell where you shall stop. When
once you desert God's gracious protection ;
you may go on to atlieism, or any thing.
Come, go back ; let me save you from a
fatal fall.

Apost. Sir, I retain the same principles
tliat I formerly held, and my love is the
same to the town as it ever was.

Godli. Poor man ! You own the prin-
ciples of True Religion., and yet cleave to
vanity and sin. The three worthies of old,
by your doctrine, might have retained laith
and right principles of the true God in their
hearts, and yet have bowed down to the
golden image, and so needed not to have
exposed themselves to the fiery furnace.
Nay, by this doctrine, who need suffer per-
secution? Besides, it renders all the mar-
tyrs of old, mere fools and madmen. What
do you say ? Will you return ? My com-
pany, it may be hoped, will allure you.

Apost. No, Sir, I have formerly had
your company, and do not find you a ne-
cessary companion : besides, the town is
sadly divided ; those who love you do not
agree.

Godli. Nay, Sir, what though the town
is divided ? It is my great grief to see it ;
but you had the more need to abide in it,
to do what you can to persuade the divided
inhabitants to unite in affection. Come,
humble yourself before God for this great
sin, and let us dwell together now, and thou
shalt abide secure, notwithstanding the di-
visions within, and the troubles without,
and have sweet peace and inward joy.
What dost thou say ?

Apost. Sir, say no more. I am resolv-
to be gone.

Godli. Well, since I see I cannot per-
suade you to return, but that you are re-
solved to leave Religion, and not receive
True Godliness., I will tell you what your
present state is, and what your future por-
tion is like to be.

Apost. Pray, Sir, do not detain me; I
must pass on.

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS

Godli. I cannot let you go till I show
you plainly your condition and prospects.
Let me solemnly warn you of several deep-
ly interesting things.

First, It appears, as I hinted before, that
you have apostatized from Christ.

Secondly, You are, it is to be feared, for-
saken of God, and left to yourself.

Thirdly, Either God will set Conscience
against you, to torment you, (as he did
upon Francis Spira) or else wholly give
you up to your own heart's lust, to walk in
your own counsel.

Fourthly, Your sin tends towards the sin
against the Holy Ghost, that shall never be
forgiven, neither in this world, nor in that
which is to come ; for you have been a per-
son much enlightened, and now wilfully
cast off God and religion. Pray read these
scriptures, Heb. vi. 4, 5, 6. " For it is im-
possible for those who were once enlight-
ened, and have tasted of* the heavenly gift,
and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost,
and have tasted the good word of God, and
the powers of the world to come, if they
shall fall away, to renew them again unto
repentance ; seeing they crucify to them-
selves the Son of God afresh, and put him
to an open shame." Heb. x. 26—28 : " For
if we sin wilfully after that we have receiv-
ed the knowledge of the truth, there re-
maineth no more sacrifice for sins, but a
certain fearful looking for of judgment, and
fiery indignation which shall devour the ad-
versaries. He that despised Moses' law.
died without mercy, under tA\'o or three
witnesses."

Fifthly, Jesus Christ will be ashamed of
you at the last day, when he comes in the
glory of the Father, with all his Holy An-
gels. Mark viii. 38.

Sixthly, Those who set their hands to the
plough, and look back, are not fit for the
kingdom of heaven, Luke ix. 62 ; nor will
God's soul take pleasure in them.

Seventhly, You are like to have the most
miserable place in hell. " The same shall
drink of the wine of the wrath of God,
which is poured out Avithout mixture into
the cup of his indignation ; and he shall be
tormented with fire and Isrimstone in the
presence of the holy angels, and in the
presence of the Lamb." Rev. xiv. 10.

Eighthly, Remember the fearful end. of
such persons as you are, and what dread-
ful judgments God hath many times brought
upon them. Besides, who will trust you?
For you that are false to God, and to your
own soul, will never be faithllil to men.
Come, that very way you think to save all,
you may lose all. Besides, let me tell you,
" Light is sown for the righteous, (though
it is a dark time now,) and joy ibr the up-
right in heart." Nay, this precious seed is
sown, ae I could chow you, in this present

dispensation ; but I am in haste. What do
you say to these things ? Will you return 1

Apost. I dare not. Sir, at present.

Godli. Well then, I see you love the
world above Christ. I have but little more
to say to you ; but. Sir, what man in his
right mind would, to avoid a few sparks,
leap into the fire ? or to save his hat, lose
his head? Alas ! whilst you seek to save
your estates, you are likely eternally to loose
your soul.

Apost. Well, Sir, trouble not yourself;

farewell.
Godli.

Adieu then, poor soul !

CHAPTER XL

Godliness, coming to Thoughtful's hotise
foundthere his JriendConsideraiion whom
he had a long time sought for. The
great opposition Consideration met with.

Godliness, being still not without hopes
of finding Serioics Consideration, in or near
this place, knocked at a man's door who
was come to dwell in tlie town Religion.
It encouraged him to learn tliat while so
many were leaving the place, this man
sought it for a habitation. Now, this per-
son formerly had been a very great enemy
to True Godliness, having lived a loose
and profuse life ; and wasted his chief sub-
stance, though he had not really come to
poverty, but seemed to be in middling cir-
cumstances. Godliness had not long Jcnock-
ed at his door, before he hstened to him
and spake within himself to this purpose :
Who is this that is come to my door ? Sure,
said he, this is a voice different from any
I ever heard in my life ; and he doth not
knock as others used to do. At last he cried
out. Who is tliere ? Who is it that is at
my door?

Godli. Soul, Christ is at the door, and I,
his noble and renowned offspring, Tnte
Godliness. Dost thou not remember tliat
word, " Behold I stand at the door and
knock ?" &c. Rev. iii. 20. Sir, now I will
ask you the like question ; pray what is
your name ? I hope I am come to tlie right
door.

He answered, I might very well be call-
ed Prodigal ; for I have hitherto lived a
very thoughtless and wicked life ; but some
call me of late Thought/id, because, bless-
ed be God, I am newly come to myself, by
thinking upon my latter end, and the evil
of my former ways.

Godli. But why dost thou choose to take
up thy dwelling in this village now, when
so many are going out ?

Thought. Because I hear it is the best
town in all the country to secure a man

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

from danger in evil times, provided I can
but get a place in one of its strong holds in
the heart of the town ; for I have heard
there is no safe dwelling at the town's end ;
no, nor any where in the suburbs. Besides,
I was told lately, that the city where I have
dwelt till now of late, will suddenly be de-
stroyed. I do it indeed to save my own
soul. I am. Sir, desirous to find out, if it
may be, where true peace, happiness and
eternal felicity is to be had ; for I see they
are not to be found in those paths I former-
ly walked ; I mean, in the ways of Riches,
Honor, and the Pleasures of this world.

Godli. I commend thee, honest Thought-
ful ; thou hast done wisely, and like a. con-
siderate man. Prithee, let me come in and
dwell with thee, and thou wilt find thi.s
poor town the safest and most secure place
in these dangerous times, in all the world.
Sir, I have wandered about a long time,
travelling from place to place, to seek for
one to whom I bear much good will, but
hitherto I have not found him ; his name is
Consideration.

Upon this Consideration, who it seems
was within, Avhispered Thoughtfid in his
ear, and said, This is he that can alone
made thee happy, if he be readily, sincere-
ly, and heartily embraced and entertained.
Is it not good for thee to muse upon the
worth and excellent nature ot thy soul?
Thou art made a man, and therefore for a
nobler and higher end and employment,
surely, than eating and drinking, sleeping
and playing, trade and secular affairs, and
to enjoy sensual pleasures. This glorious
soul which lies in thy bosom, is capable of
knowing God, and of enjoying union and
communion with him forever ; and all those
who suffer the honors, profits, and pleasures
of the world to take up and engross their
hearts, go astray, and err from the great
end of their creation. Alas ! nothing can
fill the desires of thy soul, but God him-
self; thou hast hitherto suffered thy affec-
tions and desires to run after whatsoever
thou couldst think might yield thee felicity ;
but it is evident there is nothing thou canst
find here below, that can satisfy thy thirsty
and ever craving soul. Riches, which some-
times thy heart hath been so much set upon,
cannot be thy chief happiness ; for they are
uncertain, fleeting, and variable : and let a
man have ever so much of them, yet if they
are his chief delight, he is still craving and
desiring more; so that it is as Solomon
says, " He that desireth silver, shall not be
satisfied with silver."

Honors are of like nature ; and besides
their vanity, they depend on the minds,
will, and humors of men, who are changea-
ble and inconstant.

Pleasures and voluptuousness are com-
mon to beasts as well as men, and, what is

Vol. 3.— G.

worse, manhas this additional disadvantage,
that he endures remorse and discontent
when the enjoyment is past.

Besides all this. Consideration, to induce
him to open to True Godliness, bid him ask
his soul in what state it now was, what it
was doing, and whither it was going.

First, He endeavored to show him, that
his soul was in the gall of bitterness, and
in the bond of iniquity, being under the law
and curse of God, both in respect of origi-
nal and actual sin ; he having not yet clos-
ed with Christ, nor received True Godli-
ness.

Secondly, Then as to what he was doing,
he bid him see if he did not neglect that
one thing needful. Have you, said Con-
sideration, made religion your chief busi-
ness since you came to live in this place ?
Have you not rather spent too much of
your time about notions and speculations ?

Thirdly, Whither are you going ? Are
you fit to die ? Are you going the way to
heaven? Surely that cannot be, unless
you receive True Godliness; for I have
heard that he consists in a right faith, as
well as in an holy life. Oh! what cost,
labor, pains, means, motives and argu-
ments hath God used to make men sensi-
ble of the everlasting interest of their souls,
and to engage them to a serious prepara-
tion tor another world !

And this serious preparation must neces-
sarily be a thorough work of regeneration,
faith, and spotless conversation ; for the na-
ture of the means must ever be suitable
and agreeable to the nature of the end ;
and heaven being a holy place, nothing but
perfect holiness reigneth there ; so it were
impossible to enter into it hereafter, without
progress be made in holiness here. And
how can it be thought that a man should
reach the highest step of a ladder without
ascending the lowermost first ? Who (said
he) ever hoped for a crop of corn without
sowing any, or expected to reap wheat, and
sowed nothing but tares ?

Besides these. Consideration dwelt much
on the nature and holiness of God, his infi-
nite hatred of sin, and great severity against
all unbelieving and impenitent souls, to-
gether with the perfect knowledge he had
of the heart, thoughts, and ways of the
children of men. He endeavored to set in
array the dreadful judgments, commands,
threats, and precious promises of Jehovah.

He also brought to his mind the evil of
sin, showing him what an abominable thing
it was for a man to seek to please, obey,
and do the will of the devil ; and offend,
disobey, and cross the will of God. Nay,
he began to speak of the excellency of
True Godliness also, and what he should
gain by embracing him, and letting Christ,
and the Spirit of Christ, Christ and tlie

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS,

Grace of Christ, Christ and Tnie Godli-
ness, reign in his heart. Nay, he had so
much to say, that Thoughtfid was so per-
suaded, as to be on the point of opening
the door to True Godliness ; but on a sud-
den, there was a great disturbance in the
house, several fellows made a violent up-
roar, and poor Considei-ation was quite put
down, and came near being utterly driven
out of the house.

Those who made all this disturbance
were some old servants, who not having
been often called to duty of late, had grown
apprehensive of losing their places, and
justly feared the actual admission of True
Godliness would now drive them all away.
Their names were Difficulty, Sloth, Defi-
ciency, Security, Danger, Worldly Cares,
and Carnal Company. These and other
wicked servants therefore combined to ob-
struct this great and important business of
opening to True Godliness.

First, Difficulty spake after this manner :
Sir, do not trouble yourself to study to find
out these great mysteries of Religion, for it
is a work too difficult for you to understand ;
there is nothing more mysterious; there-
fore to muse upon them would be lost labor.

Sloth told him it was laborious and toil-
some work, and it would be great weariness
to him, if Difficidty did not make it utterly
impossible.

Deficiency said he was a man of a weak
understanding, and those things were mat-
ters for the learned and most knowing men to
study ; nay, that many of them too, notwith-
standing all their profound learning, pro-
ficiency, and skill in the languages, could
hardly attain to the right knowledge of
them.

Security endeavored to make it appear
that his condition was very good and safe
now, and that he had godliness enough,
without troubling himself farther ; and that
he exceeded in holiness many men that
had lived long in the town. Moreover, he
told him, that he had followed the counsel
of Consideration too much already.

Danger also spake several things. 1.
That to give place to him, would let in his
enemy Melancholy, which might endanger
his life. Do you not see, said he, how un-
comfortable this Consideration has made
many brave men, causing them, by think-
ing on their latter end, to hang down their
heads like a bullrush, fold tlieir arms, and
spend their days in tears and weeping?
Hearken not to him, for he will certainly
infuse sad thoughts into your mind, and
give you as it were nothing but gall and
vinegar to drink.

2. He said, moreover. Consideration had
made many men go beside themselves ;
and if he gave way to hini ubout this affair,
he would be distracted.

3. He insinuated also, that if he seriously
mused upon this matter, or gave place to
Consideration, so that Godliness were let
in, the times were such he would be undone,
and utterly ruined.

Worldly-Cares proved as great an ene-
my to Consideration as any of them ; lor
he could not seriously muse nor think upon
eternity, or the present condition his poor
soul was in, he Avae so hurried in his mind
about the affairs of this life : nay, no soon-
er at any season did he set himself to ru-
minate or ponder them in his mind, bul
Worldly-Cares would expel and drive such
thoughts away.

Carnal Company and Old Cmnpanions
greatly abused Consideration. They turn-
ed Religion and Godliness into a jest, and
made the precepts of the gospel matter tor
raillery ; and told him, that those men who
seemed most serious, were the most sedi-
tious ; and that their profession savored
of nothing but pride, singularity, and hy-
pocrisy.

Now, after they had spoken all tlieir
pleasure, and had silenced, nay, had quite
routed poor Consideration, his mind was
filled and hurried about many things, which
Godliness, though not yet let in, overheard,
and presently took them all up seriously
and answered them ene by one.

Godli. Honest Thoughtful, I would not
have thee discouraged by those enemies
thou has witliin, so as to slight Considera-
tion, for he is thy very good friend, and as
able a counsellor as most in this town.
Moreover, very great inconveniencies liave
always followed those who have ignorantly
slighted and contemned him ; nay, I must
tell thee, most of all those great miseries
and heavy judgments tliat have befallen
nations, cities, towns, churches, and partic-
ular souls, have been occasioned through
their great neglect to hearken to Conside-
ration. This was the cause of Israel's ruin
of old. God, by his merciful providence^
sent to them by his prophets, to warn them
of their perilous estate and condition by
reason of their sins, and not only told them
of their imminent danger, but also revealed it3
true causes, and how they might easily pro-
vide remedies for the prevention of it ; but
they refused to lay it to heart, or give way to
Coimderation about it, which made Jeho-
vah bewail their future misery after this
manner : " O that they were wise, that they
understood this, that they would consider
their latter end." Deut. xxxii. 29. Among
other causes of their dismal calamities,
none is more general, or oftener alleged,
than tlie lack of Consideration. It is through
this means, as by a conijtnon snare and de-
ceit of the alversary, that must men fall
into sin and reject me, and are hoiden also
perpetually in Satan's bond.^^, to their de-

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

struction and perdition. Men seem deter-
mined to go on in their abominable lusts,
pride, oppression, excess of riot, drunken-
ness, and all manner of debauchery, with-
out considering what the end of these things
will be. " Wo unto them," saith the Lord,
"that rise up early in the morning, that
they may follow strong drink, and continue
until night, till wine inflame them ; and the
harp and viol, the tabret and pipe, and wine
are in their feasts, but they regard not the
work of the Lord, neither consider the ope-
rations of his hands." Isa. v. 11. Their
lusts and sensuality brought them to neg-
lect Consideration. " For this cause is my
people led away captive, &c. for they have
no knowledge, no understanding of the
time to come, no consideration of their dan-
ger." He that will not lend an ear to Con-
sideration, renders himself little better than
a brute : and what follows this folly and
madness ? " Therefore (saith the Holy
Ghost,) hell hath enlarged herself, and open-
ed her mouth without measure, and their
glory, and their multitude, and their pomp,
and he that rejoiceth, shall descend into it."
Isa. v. 13, 14. "A brutish man knoweth
not, neither doth a fool understand this,
when the wicked spring as the grass, and
when all the workers of iniquity do flourish :
it is that they should be destroyed forever."
Psal. xcii. 6, 7. " The ox knoweth his
owner, and the ass his master's crib, but
Israel doth not know, my people doth not
consider." Isa. i. 3.

Negligence, Carelessness, Ignorance, and
absence of Consideration, as they brought
Jerusalem down wonderfully. Lam. i. 9, so
they have been the bane and ruin of wretch-
ed men in all ages, and will be yours, if
you hearken to these evil enemies of your
soul, and suffer Consideration to be expel-
led. Why at this day are there so many
people who drink up iniquity as the ox
drinks water; that commit all manner of
sin, outrage, and injustice, treading down
the poor, and contemning me, without re
morse of conscience, or dread of God's
wrath and fearful vengeance ; but for the
lack of considering that which is like to be
their reward and punishment ? Thus saith
the Lord, " Consider your ways, consider
your doings." Haggai. i. " Consider this,
ye that forget God, lest he tear you in
pieces, and there be none to deliver you."
Psal. i. Aye, but they will not consider it,
nor lay it to heart ; they will not know in
this their day, the things that belong to
their peace, but inconsiderately put the
evil day far away, and harden their hearts
against God, provoking him to draw his
sword, and cause his hand to take hold of
judgment. Nothing doubtless can be more
intolerable in the presence of the Almighty,
tlian this iniquity, since he hath published

his law, declared his pleasure concerning
godliness, charging all to bear it in their
minds, to ponder it in their hearts, to study
and meditate upon it both day and night,
at home and abroad, when they rise up, and
when they lie do^vn, and to make it their
thoughts continually. And oh ! that men
should ever, notwithstanding all this, con-
temn it, and make it no part of their thoughts,
but rather avoid with care the knowledge
thereof! God makes his complaint, and de-
nounceth judgment, but no man (as the
prophet Jeremiah sheweth) will enter into
consideration, nor mind why the land
mourns: none cry out, " What have I done!"
All men, alas! are set upon their own
courses, and run on with as great vehem-
ence and fierce obstinacy, as the war horse
rushes into battle, when he hears the trum-
pet sound a charge.

Come, Thoughtful, if thou adhere to Con-
sideration, he will help thee to know God
and thyself, and to find out the miserable
condition thou and all men are in by nature.
He is the key that openeth the door for me
to enter the innermost room of thy heart ;
though it is true, he cannot open it witliout
help. Nay, farthermore, he is the looking-
glass, or rather the very eye of thy soul,
whereby thou raayst view thyself, and see
what a condition thy soul is in: hereby
thou mayst espy thy debts, thy danger, thy
duties, thy defects, thy safety, the course
thou dost follow, the company thou dost
keep ; finally, the place and end to which
thou drawest. He will give thee a view of
all God's dealings with men since the crea-
tion of the world ; the reason why God sent
his Son, his gospel, his Spirit, his servants,
and takes so much pains to bring men to
salvation. By his help, thou mayst also
find that all the means God uses to bring
thee to a true sight and sense of sin and
wrath, and to recover thee out of thy fallen
estate, will prove vain and ineffectual to
thee. Let, therefore, the consideration of
the danger thou mayst escape through
hearkening to him on the one hand, and the
great advantage thou mayst receive on the
other, together with the absolute necessity
of cherishing him, if thou wouldst be hap-
py, engage thee not to be discouraged to
incline to him, nor regard what any speak
against so good a servant as Considera-
tion.

Give me admission, and I will bring thee
acquainted with God and Jesus Christ;
nay, help thee to a room in his heart, and
lead thee into union and communion with
him, and give thee much glorious light, and
help thee to pardon for sin, peace of con-
science, and joy in the Holy Ghost. I will
make thee a son of God, give thee a place
in the heavenly family, feed thee with the
bread of life, clothe thee with glorious robes,

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS

which sparkle like diamonds, and make
thee rich ; rich in faith, in knowledge, in
experience, truly rich, always rich, eternal-
ly rich, yea, set a crown of glory upon thy
head, and make thee an heir of heaven and
earth. Thy renown also will be great;
thou shalt have angels to guard thee, Christ
to serve thee, God to honor tliee. Oh !
love him who would lead thee into Christ's
bosom, and cause thee to sit in heavenly
places; make thee to triumph with sera-
phims, and set down with thy glorified Re-
deemer upon the throne of God for ever-
more. Alas ! men deal with me and my
friend Consideration, as the inhabitants of
Sodom did with the three heavenly messen-
gers that entered into Lot's house, viz.
quarrel with us, abuse us, and offer violence
to us — who seek to preserve them from be-
ing consumed, and who whilst we are with
them, stay the hand of heaven from falling
upon them, the hand of the destroying an-
gel, that they perish not, and endeavor to
make them forever happy, possessing all
true felicity, and free them from all misery.
Does not every man desire that which is
good? Was ever any man in love with
torment ? Is it not every one's interest to
study how to prevent it ? Why then surely
Consideration cannot but have thy affection,
unless thou dost contemn rivers of pleas-
ures, inconceivable glory, even the inex-
haustible riches of both worlds, and choos-
est anguish, death, hell, and the lake that
burneth with fire for thy portion.

As to the objections which Difficidty
raises against thy compHance with my ad-
vice, they are soon answered.

First, He basely insinuates that to muse
and ponder on the great concerns of God-
liness and another world is a hard and diffi-
cult work. In great, and hazardous, and
dangerous achievments for worldly advan-
tages, however this is not made an objec-
tion. Men do not care how difficult the
work is, if it be but profitable : and shall
this be a stumbling block in the way ? How
should some houses be built, bridges over
great rivers be made, fields be sowed, and
dangerous voyages to sea be taken ? Shall
the carpenter say, Oh it is difficult, and the
husbandman say. It is difficult, and the
mariner say. It is difficult, and so lay the
enterprise aside 1

Is it not sad, and very surprising, that
the enemies of the gospel, should not think
any thing too hard and difficult to under-
take to suppress and destroy Godliness;
and yet many who profess love to me are
not willing to encounter small difficulties to
entertain and embrace me, though it be
their only business and chief interest in the
world ! Were a man's house on fire over
his head, and he likely to be burned, would
he not think of ways to escape though it

was difficult ? It is not because considera-
tion about heaven and happiness is so dif-
ficult, that men avoid them, but because
they have no will nor love to these things ;
other things are more in their aflections.
Besides, the rarest things are not obtained
but through great difficulty. What hazard
do men often run for honor and worldly
riches I Oh, what projects and contrivan-
ces do they find out ! And wilt thou desist
from this work, because it is difficult ? Men
do not think it hard to carry talents of lead,
or mountains of sin on their backs, and yet
think Consideration difficult, who, like a
faithful friend, would tell them how to be
rid of that load, that will sink them downi
into the lowest pit, except they obtain faith
in Christ, or receive True Godliness into
their hearts. They do not think it hard to
dig into hell, yet they think Consideration
hard, who would teach them a way to
quench that fire. They do not think it
hard to be oppressed by an usurper, and
yet they think Consideration hard, who
would help them to shake him off. O fools,
and slow of heart ! They tliat have cour-
age to meet an army in tlie field, and have
confidence to laugh at the glittering spear
and shield ; they that have courage to
plough the sea, to face the mouth of a can-
non, to stand a volley of shot, to fight du-
els, endure the noise of guns, hear the clash-
ing of swords, and lie on the cold ground
many nights together, to have an arm or
leg cut off, think consideration about re-
ligious things too hard ! Contemn the
thoughts of being overcome by deceitful
and timorous Difficidty.

As to what Deficiency says, that thou art
a man of weak understanding ; thou canst
perceive that gold is better than glass, and
that pearls are better than pebbles. Thou
art able to perceive thou art mortal, and
must die ; and know, when a bone is bro-
ken, it is good to have it set ; that food is
good when thou art hungry ; and that it is
good to get clothes to cover thee. Art thou
not, then, able to consider that there is need
of food for thy soul, and clothes to cover
the nakedness of thy soul, and that it is good
to have grace to enrich thy soul ? Art thou
able to find out how grievous it is to be cast
into a furnace of fire, and yet canst not
understand that it is worse to be cast
into a fire that cannot be quenched ? Nay,
have not very weak and simple persons-
attained to the skill of Consideration about
their eternal state ; and have even outdone
the wise and learned of the world? "'Knowl-
edge is easy unto him that hath understand-
ing." Prov. xiv. 16. " Wisdom gives sub-
tlety to tlie simple, and young men knowl-
edge and discretion." Prov. i. 4. " When
wisdom entereth into thine heart, and knowl-
edge is pleasant to thy soul, discretion shall

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS

preserve thee, and understanding shall keep
thee." Prov. ii. 10, 11.

As for what Sloth saith, thou hast cause
to abhor him, for he is a beggarly character,
and deserves to be driven not only out of
thy house, but out of the world, for he nev-
er did any man the least good : cast him
out then as a vagabond. Thoughtful,
wouldst thou not be at pains ? Remember,
the slothlul person shall beg at harvest, and
have nothing. Thy house is ready to fail,
and thy vineyard is grown over with thorns
and nettles, and yet he would not have thee
consider thy danger, until it is too late to
escape it. Oh ! how many liave lost their
souls by this wretch ! What good comes
of Idleness 7 Besides, do you not see how
the men of this world hate him ? They
will not hearken to him, but will in despite
of him engage in all ways and means to
get bread to eat, and clothes to put on ;
nay, seek out, through great industry,
rare projects to amass riches ; and wilt
thou be drawn away by him, from thinking
on the ready way to be made rich, great,
and renowned forever ? It is the dihgent
hand that hath the promise : " Thou must
seek for wisdom as for silver, and search
for her as for hid treasure." Prov. ii. 4.
Do not think that I put too great a burden
upon thee ; for observe, it is not necessary
to take greater pains about this inestimable
jewel, than men of the world take to get
the perishing things of this life : nay, ii"
men did but bestow half the labor about
the good of their souls, that they do about
getting the world, and providing for their
bodies, what happy persons might they be !

As to what timorous, faint-hearted Dan-
ger has laid before thee, in respect to let-
ting in Melancholy, this is a mere deceit ;
for there is a vast ditference between seri-
ous Consideration and destructive Melan-
choly : a man is not sad, because he will
not swear, cheat, gamble, and be drunk.
Consideration will let thee see, that those
men who are pleased so much with vain
sports and merriment, have the least cause
to rejoice of any men in the world.

Consideration will show you that what-
soever vain men may prate and boast of,
touching joy and pleasures, yet there is no
delight and felicity like that which is found
in the ways of true virtue ; that Godliness
is the best security ; that those serious per-
sons who look dejected and melancholy to
the carnal eye, have joys within which no
stranger intermeddles with ; and carry in
tlieir breast that which can make their life
perpetually peacelul and joyous.

They are fools that count the life of a
Christian madness, and liis inward peace,
an airy notion. Who is so frantic, as he
who ciierishes a serpent in his bosom, that
will certainly sting him to death ; who nev-

er sows, yet thinks to reap at harvest ; who
might have glorious robes to clothe him,
and yet values his own rags above tliem, or
chooses to go unclothed ; who hates, and
seeks to destroy his best friends, for the
sake of whom he is not destroyed; who
thinks to go to heaven, and yet walks the
direct way to hell ? Can there be greater
madness than to prefer a stone before bread,
or feed upon husks with the swine, when
there are all things to be had, by seeking
for them 1 Can there be greater madness
than to value a base lust above God, Christ,
and eternal glory ?

Whereas Danger, in order to obstruct Con-
sideration from opening to me, tells thee
of the evils of the times, and that, if I am
let in, thou wilt be undone, be assured, if I am
kept out, there is no way to escape, but ru-
ined thou wilt be. No danger is like soul-
danger : he can never be undone that hath
God for his portion, and heaven for his in-
heritance. Lose thy soul, and what hast
thou more? And unless thou consider
soon, and open to me, thou canst not save
it ; for " without holiness no man shall see
the Lord."

Worldly-Cares, I know, hinders my dear
friend Consideration as much as any one ;
he would persuade thee thou hast no time
to think on God nor Godliness, having a
trade to follow, a family to provide for, &c.
But shall those things hinder thee from
thinking of any thing else ? Is there not
one thing more needful, viz — to seriously
think on me, and of the concerns of thy soul,
when thou art at work, or about thy world-
ly affairs ; when thou goest out, and when
thou comest in ; when thou liest down, and
when thou risest up ? Thy heart may be
with God, when tliy hands are fully employ-
ed. True, if the world is in thy heart,
there can be but little room for Considera-
tion, much less for True Godliness. A con-
tinual liurry of business puts out the eye
whereby it should reflect upon itself But
shall tlie earth keep out heaven, and the
prince of darkness shut out the Prince of
Light, and briars and thorns choke the
good seed? Shall Worldly-Cares and
business be thy chief guests whom thou
biddest welcome, and Christ stand at thy
door as a neglected stranger? Shall World-
ly Consideration be cherished, and Serious
Coiisideraiion be crushed, who would put
thee in, a way to get to heaven ? But re-
member this, he that hath not time to open to
Christ here, Christ will find no time to
open to him hereafter. Can the world help
thee to peace and pardon on a death bed,
or riches deliver tliee in the day of wrath ?

As to what thy Old Companions lay be-
fore tliee, to render me odious, if thou per-
sist in regarding them, adieu forever !
They that hate Seriousness for themselves,

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

must needs dislike it in others : these are
Satan's agents, whom lie sends abroad in-
to the world to destroy virtue ; these strive
to put me into a wolf's skin, and then set
the dogs of the town upon nie. Shun keep-
ing company with these scoffers and con-
temners of True Cfodliness, for the sake of
thy precious soul. As thou art come into
the town of Rdigion, so let tlie truly reli-
gious be thy companions, who will, instead
of hindering, help Serious Consideration.
What ground is there to think a man should
mind the true interest of his soul, that keeps
company witli persons who make sport of
Serious Considcjationl What is he that
keeps company with sinners, but an abettor
of sinners? Remember that society in sin
strangely diminishes the sense of its hein-
ousness. As is a man's company, such is
the man ; and as is his company here, such
it is likely to be hereafter. Oh, how do sin-
ners harden one another in ways of wicked-
ness ! They think there is some comfort
in having associates in misery. It is a hard
thing indeed, Thoughtful, to be serious in
such a wicked age as this. A wicked man,
as he poisons the air in which he breathes,
so he pollutes the age in which he lives.
It is bad lodging in the house where God
refuses to dwell ; with the froward thou
wilt soon learn frowardness : but it is bet-
ter to be contemned for virtue by men on
earth, than to be condemned for vice by
the God of heaven. What sayst tliou,
Thoughtful, shall Cunsidcratiwi prevail
with thee to open the door to me ?

Conscience being now brought over to
join with the solicitations of Godliness,
Thoughtful was fully resolved to cherish
Serious Consideration, in spite of all the
clamor, raised by the other inmates of his
house. Indeed he determined to rid him-
self as soon as possible of every one of
them, and had no doubt of immediate sue
cess — but Ip ! on a sudden, new enemies
rose up in his house, and made strong op-
position to the admission of Godliness. Of
this we shall give an account in the next
Chapter.

CHAPTER XIL

Thoughtful, though he had embraced Con
eideration, and was resolved to receive
Godliness into his house, is hindered by
Old-Man, Wilful- Will, Carnal-Affections,
and Apollyon. He is aided by Labori-
ous, but had not prevailed, had it nut
been for another who came in to his as
sistance.

Thooghtpul, having with much joy and
gladness embraced CojisicZeraiion, and over
come the snares and impediments tliose ad-

versaries (we mentioned before) laid in
his way, was now resolved to receive True
Godliness, and speedily close with Jesus
Christ ; but all on a sudden other enemies,
that he had not suspected to be in his house
before, rose up, and made strong opposi-
tion against his receiving this heavenly
guest. These enemies were Old-Man,
Carnal- Affections, and IVilful- Will, all stir-
red up by the envious prince Apollyon. But
though he was thus discouraged by unex-
pected opposition, he found that he had, by
the means of Consideration, and the light
of God's word, some new friends to help
and assist him ; their names were Con-
science and Enlightened- Understanding.
Now Apollyon being in great fear that
Thoughtful, by the help of Consideratio7'i,
Conscience, and Enlightened- Understand-
ing, would embrace True Godliness, rose
up in great fury, and spoke to the rest of
the infernal host to this purpose :

Most iiiiglity pow'rs, who once from heaven fell,
To raise this throne and monarchy in hell,
Bestir yourselves with speed, or all is gone,
For Thoughtful has almost the battle won.

All the powers of hell now combined to
prevent Thoughtful I'rom receiving Tnie
Godliness, and endeavored to stir up Old-
Man and Carnal- Affections, to do what
they could to place his mind and thoughts
on the perishing things of this life. This
put poor Thoughtful to a stand. One
while he was resolved to open the door,
but tlien suddenly his heart was captivated
with the pleasures and delights of this life.
This was because his affections were not
yet thoroughly changed, nor the evil quali-
ties of his soul removed ; for Old-Man had
grievously corrupted all his powers and
faculties, which Godliness (who with pa-
tience waited still at his door) perceiving,
asked him what the matter was that he did
not let him in.

Thoughtfid answered, he was hindered
by a base adviser that he had in his house :
upon this. Godliness and he fell into serious
discourse again.

Godli. Who is it, Thoughtfid, that hin-
ders my being received ?

Thoicght. His name is Old-Man.

Godli. Ah ! he is my grand enemy, and
hath been nearly six thousand years. There
is not one in all the world, that has done
more wrong than he and his daughter,
Carnal- Affect ions.

Thought. I find also JVilful- Will is ut-
terly against your admision : Lord, what
will become of me ? I know you are wor-
thy of entertainment ; and oh ! who am I,
that you should come to be guest to such a
vile and unworthy wretch !

Godli. Nay, IVioughtful, I do not stand
alone, but here are others waiting at thy

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS,

door to come in with me also, who are per-
sons of no mean quahty.

Thought. Others ! pray who are they ?

GodlL Why here is the eternal Jeho-
vah, with Jesus Christ, the Prince of the
kings of the earth, and the Holy Spirit,
Rev. iii. 30.

Tliought. Lord! what shall I do? O
infinite and admirable grace and condescen-
sion ! God and Jesus Christ, and the Holy
Ghost, at my door, and I not let them in !
Oh ! this is amazing !

Godli. Moreover, I must tell thee ; they
have been waiting here ever since I came
first to knock at thy door ; and I so inform-
ed thee ; but I perceive thy memory proves
false. Thou art doubtless misled by that
deceptive Old-Man ; but if thou dost not
open to me soon, I shall leave thee, and
these illustrious guests will take their de-
parture. Why dost thou not lay Old-Man
prostrate ? It is not enough to cry. What,
Lord, shall I do ? but thou must shake off
Sloth, and Uke a brave and courageous
soul acquit thyself.

Tlwught. Alas ! what can I do ? This
Old-Mail is too strong for me, and Wilful-
YVill is very stubborn too ; I am unequal to
them.

Godli. Why, I will tell thee; there is
one in thy house that will help thee, if thou
hearken to him.

Thought. What is his name. Sir 1

Godli. His name is Conscience.

Thought. Sir, I know him well ; he has,
since his eyes were opened, been a very
good friend to me : but for a great while
he lay in my house as one dead, and I found
Ids eyes almost put out by Old-Man; but
all that he can do, is not sufficient without
farther help.

Godli. Thou sayest right ; thank Enlight-
ened-Understanding for that. Considera-
tion, by bringing him to read and hear
God's holy word, opened his eyes also. But
is there no other friend of mine in thy house,
who can lend thee assistance in this time of
need ?

Thought. Alas ! Sir, whom have I else
that can do apy thing for me 1 for my house
is full of adversaries ; never was a cage
fuller of unclean and hateful birds.

Godli. Thou sayest right; I believe thee,
poor Thoughtful ; but see if thou canst
not Jind a friend that I dearly love, and
have a long time sought for.

Thought. Pray, Sir, who is that? Tell
me his name.

Godli. His name is Endeavor, alias La-
borious. You cannot imagine, Thoughtful,
what great things he hath done : O ! I love
liim much; he helped Noah to build the
1 ark, and Jacob to get the blessing, and to
1 wrestle with the angel, and to prevail too ;
and Solomon to build the temple. Consid

eration, it is true, caused David to think on
his ways, but it was Endeavor, that turned
his foot to keep God's statutes. Conside-
ration also brought the poor prodigal to
his right mind, but it was Endeavor that
sent him home to his father's house : it
was he that made him find his feet, after
the Spirit of God had brought him to him-
self: nay, I could tell thee, I have taught
him to get many a blessing by prayer.
Who was it that got the three loaves in the
gospel ? Was it not the importunate Labo-
rious ? Was it not he likewise that made
the poor widow prevail with the unjust
judge to avenge her of her adversary?
Ng.y, in a word, the promise of God is
made to him — " If you follow on to know
the Lord, then you shall know him." It is
this dihgent person that makes men, with
God's blessing, rich ; I mean spiritually
rich. Now, what dost thou say. Thought-
ful ? Canst thou find my good friend En-
deavor ?

Thought. Truly, Sir, now I think of it,
I hope I have found him ; but he has been
here but a little time, and has been too
much neglected by me : for I did not "strive
to enter in at the straight gate," till now.
But I pray, wherein will he be so useful to
me ? What are his properties ?

Godli. Why, he commonly stirs up men
to open the door to me. He is a great ene-
my to Sloth and Idleness ; he makes them
rise betimes in the morning to call upon
God, and to read his word, and search into
it very diligently. He will make you incline
your ear to what Conscience says, and make
you tremble at his reproofs and accusations
when you sin against God, if you will take
his counsel. He will also cause you to go
and hear sermons, and not to sleep when
you get there, nor neglect nor slight con-
victions, nor be careless and negligent in
any duty ; and will help you to labor after
faith, and not to rest upon any thing short
of Christ.

Thought. 01 Sir, this is the very friend
I want ; and blessed be God I have found
him. I am resolved to make use of his
help and assistance continually.

Upon this he became very diligent in
attending upon all the means of grace.
Moreover, by the help of Endeavor, he cut
off some one or two of the members of Old-
Man, that body ol' sin, and prayed morning
and evening ; shunned all open prolaneness
and scandalous sins; would not speak at
random with his tongue, nor neglect to hear
one good sermon, when an opportunity pre-
sented, and became just in all his deaUngs
with men. But now Apollyon, by the treach-
ery of Old-Man, raised up another enemy
which had almost undone him insensibly.
This was Self-Riglvteousness, a very great
enemy to True Godliness. By his influence,

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

Thoughtful was becoming quite contented
with himself, and began to forget tliat he
had not admitted True Godliness ; but at
last, he knocked again, and demanded in-
stant admittance.

Godli. What is tlie cause of this great
neglect ? What, shall I not be received ?

0 what a long time have I stood at your
door ! What is the difficulty now ?

Thought. Truly, Sir, I had concluded
tliat now the door was open, by the help of
my good friend Laborious, for I have done
what he required of me.

Godli. No, no, Thoughtfid, I am still
kept out. Wilfid- Will and Old-Man have
beguiled you, and let in another dangeroys
enemy, whose name is Self-Righteousness.

1 cannot enter till he be expelled and hated.
This was he that quite undid poor Legalist,
and will quite ruin you too, if you do not
take heed. I would not have you slight
Endeavor, but do not make an idol of him.
If you be found in your own righteousness,
you will be lost by your own unrighteous-
ness ; duties can never have too much of
your diligence, nor too little of your de-
pendence. Not the salt sea of thy own
tears, but the red sea of Christ's blood
must wash away thy sins. You must owe
the life of your soul to the deatli of your
Saviour. If you have no better righteous-
ness than what is of your own providing,
you will meet with no higher happiness tlian
what is of your own deserving. You must
take up duties in point of performance, but
lay them all down again in point of depend-
ence. There is as much cause to fear for
you now as there ever was. What will
you do !

Thought. Lord, help me ! what shall I
do indeed ? O ! how many are deceived,
who think it is an easy thing to be saved !
Surely I shall never attain to a state of
grace and true conversion.

Upon this a melancholy and very dan-
gerous person, (called Despond,) attacked
him, and almost prostrated him to the earth.
Nay, I perceived, he fractured some of his
bones, wounding him so grievously, that he
despaired of hfe. Indeed, he was over-
whelmed with trouble ; and that which
grieved him most of all, was, to think, that
all this time, not only True Godliness, but
Christ himself also waited at his door.
Godliness, perceiving what a deplorable
condition he was in, spake to him after this
manner :

Godli. Poor TJioughtfid, do not give
way to Apollijon, that prince of darkness ;
for it is he who hath stirred up that cruel
enemy Despond to take away thy lil'e ; that
cruel destroyer hath sent many souls to hell.
Come, though thy own righteousness is
worth nothing, being but like filthy rags,
yet Christ's righteousness is sufficient to

cover thee, and his blood to heal thy wounds.
Your business is to believe, viz. wholly to
get out of yourself, and rely upon Christ's
all-sufficient merits ; and know assuredly,
that the very moment you cast yourself, by
a lively act of faith, upon Jesus Christ, I
shall enter your habitation.

O know, poor Thoughtful, tliat Christ's
righteousness hath more worth in it to save
you, and raise you up to heaven, than your
own unrighteousness hath weight to cast
you down to hell. You say you are a great,
and hell-deserving sinner ; but you can be
but a sinner, and Christ died for sinners ;
and never did any throw themselves by an
act of true faith upon him, but they were
saved. He died for the chief of sinners.
Do you not hear him say, " Come unto me,
all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and
I will give you rest ?" Matt. xi. 28, 29.

Thought. O that I could believe ! My
sins ! my sins !

No sooner had Godliness showed him
what it was to open the door, and laid
before him the necessity of union with
Christ, and of faith in him, but ApoUyon,
with the Old-Man, and other bitter ene-
mies, began to cause dreadful commotions
in his house; for nothing doth the devil
fear more than true faith: and Thoughtful
Ibund it very hard to believe. Wilful- It ill
being stubborn and perverse. ApoUyon,
also tried his skill in many other ways to
undo him, so that he was hard beset; but
when he saw none of those ways were
likely to succeed, he laid before him the
outward danger he would be in, if True
Godliness were embraced ; he told him, he
was likely to suffer great persecution, it
being the portion of all who entertained
True Godliness, insomuch that his very life
might be in danger. But Godliness com-
forted him with many precious promises;
telling him also, he had such a glorious
retinue to attend him, which he would bring
into his house with him, that he need not
I'ear any difficulty, provided he would but
admit him ; and seeing he was still unable
to open the door, his enemies being too
strong for him, he told him, there was one
friend of his, whom, if he could prevail with
to come to his assistance, he would soon
make the way clear, and open the door.
Who is that ? said Thoughtful, with great
earnestness mingled with joy. Godliness
then discovered immediately the excellency
of his person, and the nature of his opera-
tion, by which he soon understood it was
the Holy Ghost. Upon this he was not a
httle delighted, and presently cried out, as
one whose life is in danger, to God, to send
the Holy Spirit to assist him. " O Lord,
the Holy Spirit, teach me thy tnith, and
work in me to do thy pleasure." Thus he
cried, with the greatest fervency, and pree-

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

«ntly there were strange strugglings in-
deed (tile Holy Spirit acting upon all the
faculties of his soul ;) yea, such a conflict
as he never before met with. Judgment in
the combat behaved himself valiantly ;
Consideration was not wanting ; Conscience
laid on home blows, being backed by En-
deavor ; and in the beginning of tlie com-
bat, the Holy Spirit came in, and with him
Faith and other attendants of Godliness ;
then the door flew open, and Godliness en-
tered. OldrMan hid himself Wilful- Will
submitted, and became TlioughtfuVs very
good servant. Carnal Affections changed
their minds, and were made heavenly ; and
so abode, increasingly, to his dying day.

True Godliness being now entered into
Ills house, with his attendants. Thoughtful
was not a little comforted. Now the reti-
nue of Godliness, who came in with him,
were these, viz. Newman, True Love, Hu-
mility, Sobriety, Sincerity, Temperance,
Self -Clearing, Faithful, Excellent- Knowl-
edge, Blessed-Experience, Godly-Zeal, Fil-
ial-Fear, Precious-Promises, Holy-Revenge,
Vehement-Desire, Constant-Supplication,
Spiritual-Indignation, Christian-Courage,
Sincere Aims and Ends, Carefid. Patience,
Hospitality, Stability, Charily, Liberality,
Chastity, Purity, Holy- Sympathy, Wake-
Man, JVatch- Well, Peaceable, Harmless,
Gentleness, Brotherly -Kindness, and Love-
All, besides several others of like quality.
These, as I formerly stated, were all per-
sons of noble birth, being the offspring of
Heaven. I perceived also a most glorious
company with them ; and that you may
know what a happy man poor Thoughtful
now became, I shall intbrm you who they
were.

The first, was The Father of True God-
liness, for he always dwells where he dwells,
and abides with this his glorious and heav
enly attendant. Then the Lord Jesus
Christ; which brought tliat word to my
remembrance, " If any man love me, he
will keep my words, and my Father will
love him, and we will come unto him, and
make our abode with him." John xiv. 23.
Also the other words, " I will come in to
him, and sup with him, and he with me,"
Rev. iii. 20. 2 Tim. i. 14. Also, The Holy
Spirit, for he is said to dwell in us ; and be-
sides these, there was, Union. Reconcilia-
tion. Justification. Acceptation. Commun-
ionwiththe Father and Son. Adoption. Par-
don of Sin. The Image of God. Peace
of Conscience. Joy in the Holy Ghost.
Free Access to the Throne of Grace. A
Place in the heavenly Family. Fellowship
with Saints. The earnest Sealing of the
Spirit. Increase of Grace. The Attend-
ance of an innumerable Company of An-
gels.

But lo ! I looked, and afar off I espied

Vol. 3.— H.

another glorious train Ibllowing, in the
midst of which I plainly discerned, amongst
others, (whose glory was so great I could
not behold them,) Immortality, Incorrup-
tion. Perfection, Glorious Victory, Heaven-
ly Triumph, the Beautiful Vision, Rivers
of Pleasure, the Tree of Life, the King
in his Beauty, a while Throne, Mansions
of Glory, the Holy City, New Jerusalem, a
Crown of Righteousness, and Millions of
glorified saints coming amongst the holy
Cherubim and Se7-aphim, and all the Host
of Heaven, with palms and harps in their
liands, singing Hallelujah to God and the
Lamb. They made such melody, that it
was sufficient to ravish the soul in such a
manner, as to leave no heart nor spirit in
us for the empty objects of this world.

Now the two first glorious companies
who attended True Godliness here, entered
with him immediately, and the other glories
Tliuughtful was sure of possessing after
being faithful until death, so that he was
wonderfully fortified against all domestic
commotions, or loreign approaching dan-
gers. He could not indeed, but expect
new troubles would be raised against him,
both i'rom within and without; and so in-
deed it suddenly came to pass, Ibr Apollyon,
the prince of darkness, first raised up all
his scattered forces which still remained
within, and lurked in secure corners of his
house. Old-Man, though he was danger-
ously wounded, and lay bleeding, and though
Holy Revenge had a strict command to kill
him, he did not presently do it, by which
means it happened, that in a little time he
seemed to revive again ; which was a great
grief to him, and a hinderance also to True
Godliness. And the worst was, this inward
corruption, alias, Old-Man, alias Body of
Sin, getting too great power by the treach-
ery oi Apollyon, Prince of darkness, so laid
before him his manifold evils, and remiss-
ness in holy duties, as to persuade him that
he harbored an enemy of True Godliness
named Hypocrisy ; and that he was likely,
upon that account, to lose all his hopes
here, and that happiness of which Godli-
ness assuredhim hereafter. But, as the Lord
had ordered it, Self-Clearing, by the help
of Conscience, made it apparent to him,
that Hypocrisy was not concealed in his
house, nor in the least countenanced by
him. For, first, they proved that he had a
hatred of all iniquity, and did not allow of,
nor countenance any sin whatsoever, by the
aid of Spiritual Indignation. And second-
ly, that there was no one duty which he
was convinced of, but he readily submitted
to it by the help of New-Obedience. Third-
ly, That he was peculiarly careful of, and
had alway (by the help of Christian Watch-
Well) kept a strict eye over Mrs. Heart,
whom he most of all mistrusted, and had a

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

great jealousy of. Fourthly, That he rest-
ed not upon the external perlbrmancc of
any duty, but did all to the praise and glo-
ry of God, bj^ the help of Triie-Lovc.
Fifthly, That ho was the same continually
in private which he was in public, by the
assistance of Filial-Fear. Sixthly, And
that also he gave, according to his ability,
at all times, to Theology (Christ's minister)
and to the poor saints ; the one by the aid
of New- Obedience, Bounty, Liberality, and
Godly-Zeal, and the other by the help of
Christian- Charity. Seventhly, That he did
nothing to be seen of men, or for the sake
of Vain- Glory, by the directions of Holy-
Ends and Alms, and by the power of Heav-
enly Neio-Man. Eighthly, That he was
always constant in his love to, and his es-
teem of True Godliness, being as much
for the work of Godliness, as for the wages,
by the assistance of Faithful. Ninthly,
That he did not inordinately love, nor set
his affections upon, the things of this life,
by the help of Temperance and Sobriety.
Tenthly, That he labored to live a spotless
life, being taught so to do by Purity. Elev-
enthly, That he bore up valiantly in the
profession of the gospel, not being asham-
nor afraid to own .Tesus Christ before men,
by the means of Stability and Christian-
Courage. Twelfthly, That he did not faint
under afflictions and trials, by the help of
Blessed-E.rpcrienr.e, Patience, and Pre
cious-Promises. Thirteenthly, And that he
was kept from being corrupted in principle,
or led into error, by the means of Excellent-
Knowledge.

Now Conscience and Self-Clearing hav-
ing thus freed Thoughtful from the false
charge about harboring Hypocrisy, he per-
ceived what excellent advantage he had,
and should receive by Godliness' noble ret-
inue ; and hereupon he fell so in love with
them, that he never would go any where,
nor perform any service without their com-
pany ; which Apollyon perceiving, knew it
was in vain to assault him any more in that
way ; but being filled with rage and malice
against him, he raised up mighty forces and
powers upon him from without. He stirred
up many of the base sort to abuse him,
amongst which were these following : Hate-
Good, Time-Server. Pride, Oid-Side, Riot,
Ignorance, Hard-Heart, Scoffer, Please- All,
Ijove-Lust, Giddy-Head, Rob-Saint, Tem-
porizer, Iclolator, Avarice, Shameless, High-
Minded, Seared- Conscience ; who, Avith
many more of like sort, compassed him
about like bees, mis-called and abused him
in a cruel and unmerciful manner, which
made him anxiously inquire what the cause
should be; but a"t last he perceived the
ground and reason of it was only because
he had received 7\-ue Godliness.

Remembering that word of Jesus Christ,

" Marvel not if tlie world hate you ;" and
that word, " They shall say all manner of
evil against you falsely for my name sake ;"
with the saying of the apostle, "And all
that will live godly in Christ Jesus, shall
suffer persecution ;" he saw that nothing
could be expected but that these fellows
would distress him. Though by tiie help
he had from Godliness^ glorious retinue, he
was supported and established in the ways
of grace and true holiness, yet he was
somewhat disquieted in his mind. He now
began to think he must remove from these
tormentors. He wondered they should sa
perplex him, and felt sure, Avere he to
change his condition and manner of living,
he should certainly escape their annoyance
and serve God with more pleasure and ad-
vantage. What was now essential to his
peace was, to be associated with Christian
Contentment.

CHAPTER XIII.

Thoughtful, meeting with his Fnend Con-
tentment, and finding nmo nothing want-
ing in order to the making of his Life
sweet and comfortable, sung Hallebijahs,
Hymns of Praise and Thanksgiving to
God and the Lamb.

Thoughtful Christi.\n, for so now we
must call him, notwithstanding all the high
and unutterable blessings, riches, and honor,
he had acquired by embracing True Godli-
ness, became sad and melancholy, by per-
ceiving not only the great distresses and
troubles which his family were like to meet
with in this world, but also what unsettled,
and unhappy days, he was fallen into, and
of the abounding evils and horrid blasphe-
mies which he witnessed wherever he came.
Godliness, however, informed him of a per-
son named Coiztentment, whom he saw he
had not yet found ; and remarked, that if
he could but acquire him for an associate,
his mind would remain sweetly settled and
composed, and that he would enjoy all im-
aginable calmness of soul, and be delivered
from all anxious thoughts, and undergo
crosses and harsh accidents with equanimity
and acquiescence of spirit ; wholly submit-
ting unto, and being fully satisfied with, the
divine disposal. Now, this glorious, noble,
and renowned personage. Contentment, had
been, it seems, travelling from place to place,
like a poor pilgrim, as Tnie Godliness had
done, seeking a fit resting place, but could
find none. He had been to visit Riches,
but Avas not admitted ; and Poverty also,
but found no lodging there ; Avith Youth he
could find no abode, and Old-Age was a
stranger to hi in ; Pleasure, could give him
no entertainment ; Honors were forced to

TRAVELS OF TRUE GODLINESS.

say, we know him not. He was not lodged
in the prince's palace, nor in the peasant's
cottage: the unmarried sought him, but
could not find him, and the married wished
for him, but he tbund tliere was no abiding
with them neither. Thoughtful now hear-
ing that he was accustomed to dwell where
Godliness took up his lodging, sent pres-
ently his old friend Consideration to seek
for him, and by the providence of God, it
was not long before he was found. For the
information of my thinking reader, I shall
show how Consideration^ by the assistance
of Faith, met with him, and brought him
home to Thoughtful Christian, and made
him his fixed companion.

First, Co7isideraiion led him forth to pon-
der upon the divine attributes, providences,
and promises, and taught him to confide
■cheerfully in tlie infinite power, wisdom,
holiness, mercy, goodness, truth, and faith-
fulness of God.

Secondly, He stirred him up to seek for
ContentmeiU, by observing his present state
and condition. What, saith he, hath God
done for thee ! Thou wast in the gall of
bitterness, and bond of iniquity, and God
hath brought thee out, and yet not content !
Thou wast a child of wrath, and now art a
child of God, yet not content! Hast thou
God for thy God, Christ for thy Saviour,
the Holy Spirit for thy Comforter, and yet
not content! Nay, doth God, Christ, and
the Holy Spirit dwell with thee, and yet
not content! Hast thou received True
Godliness^ glorious retinue into thy house,
to abide witli thee, to enrich thee, to strength-
en thee, to comfort thee, and make thy life
sweet to thee, and yet not content ! Are
thy sins pardoned, thy soul justified — hast
thou union and communion with the Father
and Son, and yet not content ! Is thy name
written in the Book of Life ! Art thou an
heir of a crown and a kingdom that fadeth
not away, and yet not content! Nay, let
me tell thee, all these things, and many
more, are absolutely thine with Content-
ment. Come, art thou willing to possess
them, to make them thine own, and enjoy
them forever ? If thou wouldst be sure of
them, then get Contentment to dwell with
thee ; for " Godliness with contentment is
great gain." 1 Tim. vi. 6. It doth not say.
Godliness without Contentment but with
Contentment. This glorious prince will
put thee into the present possession of all
true happiness, and wilt thou not resolve to
give him a residence in thy house ?

Thirdly, Ponder upon the excellency of
Contentment ; for a saint never looks like
himself, or acts like a person of rank and
quaUty, who hath received so many glori-
ous and excellent qualities and privileges,
but when in all conditions he is therewith
content.

Fourthly, Ponder, saith Consideration,
upon the evils of Discontent. Oh ! what
dishonor doth it bring to God ! what re-
proach to True Godliness ! and wliat great
wrong to thy own soul!

Fifthly, It is below thy Christian relation,
to be discontent. It was the speech of Jo-
nadab to Amon, '• Why art thou, being a
king's son, lean from day to day ?" But
that was for a wicked cause ; he saw his
spirit was troubled, for otherwise he was
healthful enough. It is below thy relation
to God, who is thy portion, thy shield, thy
sanctuary, thy iatiier. David thougjit it no
small matter to be a son-in-law to an earthly
king ; and thou art the King's son of heav-
en and eartli, and yet not content ! It is
below thy relation to Jesus Christ. What,
art thou the spouse of Christ, a member of
Christ, the brother and friend of Christ, an
heir with Christ, and yet not content ! It is
below thy relation to the Holy Ghost. Is
he thy comforter, guide, witness, strength,
and art thou not content ! It is below thy
relation to the holy angels who are thy
guard, thy attendants, thy friends, thy
watch-men ! hast tlaou millions of those
glorious spirits to minister to thee, to fight
for thee, keep thee in all thy ways, and yet
not content ! It is below thy relation to the
saints and heavenly family. Art thou
brought home to sit down with them, to
partake of all the sacred privileges of God's
house with them, and to have a share in all
their prayers, and yet not content! It is
below the high and sovereign dignity thou
art raised to. Art thou born from above, a
prince, a favorite of heaven, an heir of both
worlds, and yet not content !

Lastly, Consider, all thy afflictions, trou-
bles, and sorrows are nothing, in comparison
of what other saints have met with ; nay,
to those Jesus Christ met with himself for
thy sake, and art thou not content! Be-
sides, are they not less than thy sins de-
serve? Nay, all those hard things thou
meetest with, God intended to work for thy
good. All the bitter things thou art ever
hke to meet with, may be in this world
nothing but sweet hereafter, and yet not
content! All thy troubles will soon be
gone, they are but for a moment ; besides,
they are intermixed with much sweet, and
yet not content !

No sooner had Consideration laid all
these things and many other of the like na-
ture before him, but lo ! to his joy. Content-
ment came in, and was immediately wel-
comed by Godliness'' heavenly retinue;
yea, it cannot be imagined what rejoicing
there was now in poor ThoughffiWs house ;
it would have diffused joy through every
benevolent mind, to see how the scattered
powers of the enemy were forced to fly
into conceahnent. ApoUyon him^;elf was

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

forced to withdraw ; Despond was vanish-
ed ; Disquiet and Munnur could find no
place. Oh ! this was to him the joyful day
of days.

Now that blessed Contentment was fairly
settled in the house, he witli the kind retinue
which Godliness had brought in before, soon
began to set the affairs of Thoughtful in
order. Constant Supplication proved him-
self an excellent help. Careful, Hospitality,

Holy Sympathy, I^ve-All, and others con-
tributed to secure the respect of all his
neighbors. His residence in the town of
Religion proved a public blessing ; and so
long as my knowledge of him continued, he
remained happy and prosperous, ever bless-
ing the day he became acquainted with
True Godliness, and employed much of
his time in thanksgiving and praise to God
and the Lamb.

HELP

ZION'S TRAVELLERS

AN ATTEMPT TO REMOVE VARIOUS STUMBLING-BLOCKS OUT OF

THE VV^AY RELATING TO DOCTRINAL, EXPERIMENTAL

AND PRACTICAL RELIGION.

By ROBERT HALL, Late op Arnsby.

INTRODUCTION

" Cast ye up, cast ye up, prepare the way, take iip the
stumbling-block out of the way of my people." — Isaiah
Ivii. 14.

These words seem to have been the lan-
guage of those who in a time of general
declension adhered to God and religion, and
in every difficulty and danger trusted in the
Lord, being encouraged by his precious
promises, as mentioned in the preceding
verse. Knowing, by mournful experience,
the various obstacles and intricacies which
annoy and perplex the heavenly traveller
in times of distress and obscurity, they are
represented as saying, on behalf of the dis-
couraged and entangled, to those who were
employed in the ways of Zion, Cast ye up,
cast ye up, prepare the way, &c.

Wnether the text be considered as his-
torical, or prophetical, as a relation of what
was the request of the godly in the days

of the prophet, or a prediction of what
would be solicited in some future period, it
is evident from the words that the people
of God are represented as on a journey,
seeking a better country, which is an heav-
enly ; therefore are frequently called, stran-
gers, and pilgrims on the earth ; that the
way in which they are to walk is not at all
times easy to be discovered ; and when ob-
scurity attends the patli, hesitation prevents
a progress. Hence tlie servants of the
Lord are called upon to cast up and pre-
pare the way, to render it more visible and
obvious to every spiritual passenger, to see
that it be raised or elevated, and thereby
rendered safe, even when floods of perse-
cution and temptation abound, and made
as plain as possible, by the removal of every
thing tending to injure the weak or benight-
ed traveller : therefore it is added, Take
up the stumbling-block out of the way of
my people. This desire, this request seems
to be represented as the personal and imited
wish of every good man, whether in the
days of llie prophet, or in future periods of

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

time. For thus saith the Lord, " He that
putteth his trust in me — shall say, Cast ye
up, cast ye up, prepare the way, take up
the stumbhng -block out ol' the way of my
people."

Though etumbhng-block is mentioned
only in the singular, as if pointing to some
one danger or difficulty to he removed, yet
it is evident from scripture, that various
things are so denominated ; but the singu-
lar number only being used in the words,
may denote the dreadful nature and dan-
gerous tendency of the doctrine and prac-
tice of idolatry, which was the stumbling-
block Balaam taught Balak to cast before
the children of Israel, and against which
the prophet in this chapter had been bear
ing his testimony. The doctrine of idola-
try in its different forms has been, and con-
tinues to be, a fatal stumbling-block to ma-
ny: hence the church of Pergamos was
censured for keeping in her community
them that held the doctrine of Balaam.
Rev. ii. 14. Again, if the text be consid-
ered as the language of every believer, it
may refer to, or include, whatever was or
may be found of a stumbling nature to
each of them. The experiences of Chris-
tians are very different respecting what is,
or has been, to them of a trying, perplex-
ing nature ; and as each Christian is ready
to fear what has been the principle stum-
bling-block to him may be the same to oth-
ers, it is natural to suppose, that as every
heart knows its own bitterness, each tried
believer would thus express himself, and in
reference to his own experience, say, " Take
the stumbling-block out of the way of my
people."

Besides, as there is often a prevalence of
various errors in different periods, and dis-
tinct places ; so, what is injurious to the
people of God, as a prevailing stumbling-
block in their way, is variable, according to
the methods taken to obscure, misrepresent,
or oppose the solemn and sacred truths,
which God has graciously revealed in his
word ; or lessen their genuine influence
and native tendency, as recorded in the
holy scriptures.

From these considerations we may infer,
that though the text speaks in the singular
number, yet the servants of the Lord must
expect to have various things of a stum-
bling nature to remove, according to the
different exercises of the saints, or the in-
jury done to truth at different times, and by
different persons.

The ministers of Christ are set for the
defence of the gospel, and are appointed to
help the faith and joy of those who have
believed through grace. And as this is a
day in which errors of various kinds abound,
a day of gloominess and perplexity to ma-
ny sincere Christians who desire to know

the truth as it is in Jesus, to be devoted to
him through life, as well as found in him at
death ; for the sake of such 1 would endeav-
or, as the Lord shall help, to remove some
of those stumbling-blocks, which he in their
way, relating to doctrinal, experimentau
and PRACTICAL religion.

CHAPTER 'i?-^
The Deity of &kfi»&r^

Respecting doctrinal difficulties, we may
observe the most common and artful meth-
ods taken by many to overturn the soul-
supporting truth of Christ's divinity. It is
only from the sacred scriptures we can have
information respecting the person and work
of our precious Redeemer : to these he ap-
pealed in the days of his flesh, saying,
Search the scriptures, for they testify of me :
but with what deceitfulness is the word of
God handled by many, when the person
of Christ is the subject of inquiry ! [In-
stances might easily be multiphed; but I
shall mention only the following.]

1. Some in order to overthrow his claim
to divinity, and the supreme love of his
people, have collected a number of passa-
ges of scripture, which plainly declare his
inferiority to God : from which they infer,
with an appearance of gravity and good
will to truth, that as scripture is evidently
consistent with itself, he therefore who ia
therein declared to be inferior to deity, can-
not possibly be divine. But a little atten-
tion is sufficient to discover that art is sub-
stituted in the room of argument, and soph-
istry occupies the place of sense. Every
good man will rejoice in the harmony and
consistency of divine revelation, and readi-
ly allow that inferiority and equality are
opposites, and that in the sense in which
Christ is spoken of as an inferior, he is not,
cannot be equal with God.

But as in the person of Christ two dis-
tinct natures are united, in consequence of
which he is Immanuel, God with us ; there-
fore it does not follow, because he has a
nature inferior to God, yea, even to angels,
that his superior nature is not properly
divine. Ten thousand testimonies in proof
of his humanity do not in the least degree
enervate his claim to deity : a very small

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS,

attention to the subject under considera-I
tion, is sufficient to discover the fallacious-
ness of such reasoning as the above. For
those who maintain the divinity of the bless-
ed Saviour, as firmly believe him to be
properly man. as they do who deny him to
be God over all.

It is our unspeakable felicity, that the Son
of Grod was sent into the world as a Medi-
ator, to make peace between Jehovah in
his public character as a governor, and re-
bellious men, that the Lord God might
dwell among them, and they with him.
In order to accomplish which, it was ne-
cessary he .should assume human nature,
and dwell among us. To reconcile God
and man, it was needful he should be a
middle person, possessing the nature of
both, and as equally interested in favor of
each party, be able to establish Heaven's
righteous claim, and raise self-ruined man
to a state of safety, dignity, and delight.

Considered as a complex person, he kind-
ly condescended to act on our behalf in
office capacity, as if inferior to Deity. For
as Mediator he acted as under the direction
and commission of his Father ; and as such,
was God's servant, though his Son ; there-
fore said, of himsell' he could do nothing :
not through the want of ability, but being
under official obligations to adhere to his
Father's directions. Though an embassa-
dor can do nothing of himself, but is bound
in duty to act in all things in conformity to
his instructions, yet it is not from thence
inferable that his nature, ability, or men-
tal powers, are inferior to those of his sov-
ereign ; for the restriction or limitation is
not the effect of personal debility, but of
office capacity. The blessed Jesus is there-
fore not only inferior to God as man, but
as Mediator; nevertheless, inferiority in
office does not prove, nor imply, an inferi-
ority of nature. Nay, on the contrary, the
errand on which he came, and the work
assigned him to perform, were so infinitely
important, awful, and arduous, that he
could not have discharged his trust without
the power and penetration of Deity. Hence
he appealed to his works in prooi of his di-
vine mission, likewise as evidences of his
filial relation to God, in such a sense as ex-
posed him to the charge of blasphemy, had
he not been properly divine : John x. 24 —
38. His true dignity as a divine person be
ing inferable from what he did, his enemies
were on that account inexcusable, because
his works sufficiently demonstrated to every
honest inquiring mind, who he was, as well
as from whence he came ; though it was
inconsistent with his then state of humilia-
tion and debasement, to allow the glories
of divinity to shine forth in their native lus
tre and infinite splendor : hence he repeat-
edly charged his friends not to publish to

the world who he was, till after his resur-
rection from the dead. That he was a
man, his enemies knew as well as his dis-
ciples ; yea, some of them thought him to be
the promised Messiah, and said one to anoth-
er, riiis is the heir, let us kill him : but as
a divine person they,knew him not; for,
had they known him, they would not have
crucified the Lord of Glory. For the prin-
cipal charge brought against him, and for
which he was condemned, was, that, being
a man, he made himself equal with God ;
John V. 18. Chap. xix. 7.

If Christ exposed himself to death through
ambiguity, how did he witness a good con-
fession at Pilate's bar? If he did not
mean an equality with God, which the Jews
thought he did, strange that his regard to
truth did not lead to an explanation of what
he intended.

It is no wonder that priests and others in
that day of prevalent ignorance and per-
verseness, should have a secret conviction
of his office capacity as Messiah, without
an idea of his divinity, seeing, some under
the profession of gospel ministers, acknowl-
edge and plead lor his divine mission, and
yet oppose and reject with contempt the
idea of his being a divine person.

How kind and wonderful the condescen-
sion of the blessed Jesus, that he should
stoop to take upon him human nature (not
as when in its original dignity, but in its de-
based state) in order to suffer, and serve,
in favor of those who would, he knew, on
that very account, rob him of his reputa-
tion, as a divine person ! It is mournful to
tliink he should be despised on earth for
that, on account of which he is admired in
heaven.

Consider the complex capacity of the
adorable Jesus as God, and as man, with
his acting as Mediator, in consequence of
such an vmion of distinct natures, and then
the scripture account of his inferiority and
subjection to the divine Father will appear
quite consonant with the doctrine of his
true and proper divinity ; and the stum-
bling-block aforesaid be totally removed.
But when the aforesaid [difficulty] is re-
moved, behold another is with equal art
thrown in the way of the ignorant and un-
wary, which is

2. A perversion of the terms used ia
treating of this important subject. In con-
sequence of such unwarrantable, not to say
unmanly craft, the uniiy of the divine es-
sence is represented to be so evidently in-
consistent with a plurality of divine persons,
as if it was universally agreed to consider
them as absolute contradictions, and to con-
vey irreconcilable ideas ; whereas it is ve-
ry well known that those who believe the
divinity of the blessed Jesus (and the Holy
Ghost) as firmly maintain the unity of the

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

divine essence, or that there is only one
God, as they do who oppose a pluraUty of
divine persons. Yet things are so repre-
sented as if they and the Trinitarians agreed
in that about which they ditfer, and again
as if they differed about that in wliich they
are agreed: for the consistency between
a pluraUty of persons in the one divine es-
sence is the very thing Ibr which those con-
tend who believe the divinity of Christ. And
that there is but one living and true God,
both parties unite and agree in acknowl-
edging. The doctrines of 2mUy in the di-
vine essence, and a plurality oi' persons, are
in their very nature distinct, and ought
never to be confounded. But that they
are opposites and inconsistent in reference
to God, has not yet been proved, and I be-
lieve never will. But though the adversa-
ries of Christ's divinity oppose the one to
the other, as if they were allowed contra-
rieties ; yet, by and by, they will treat those
very terms by which the doctrines are dis-
tinguished, as if they were intended to ex-
press the same thing, or convey similar
ideas. Hence, if the essence of God be
the subject treated of, the term person is
immediately substituted, as if synonymous
with that of essence, and then with an air
of triumph it is inferred, that^ If God be
one, he w not two or three. Again, il' the
doctrine of divine personality be the mat
ter of immedioAe consideration, and scrip-
tural proofs be adduced in support of a
plurality of persons truly divine, behold
the idea of essence is by them substituted
in the room of person, and nnity instead
of plurality, and by the help of such a
substitution and perversion of terms, and
shuffle of ideas, they very gravely exclaim
against Tritheism, i. e. the doctrine of three
Gods. As the friends of Christ's divinity
never assert God to be three in the sense
in which he is one, nor one in the same
sense in which he is three, but perpetually
distinguish between a plurality of persons
and the imity of God, the methods taken as
aforesaid are disingenous, contemptible,
mean, and even beneath notice, were it not
that thereby inattentive minds are imposed
upon, the opposition to the Redeemer's
dignity is supported, and weak Christians
are stumbled.

It is evident, however, beyond contradic-
tion, that according to the scriptures there
was a plurality of persons antecedent to
creation ; for in the beginning was the
Word, and the Word was with God, and
the Word was God, the same was in the
beginning witii God : all things were made
by him, and without him, was not any thing
made that was made ; John i. 1, 2, 3 : that
glorious person who was unth God was
therefore distinct from him with whom he
was, and yet of the same nature, being one

in essence with tlie Father. For the word
was God, and that Jesus Christ is intended
by the Word who was in the beginning
with God, and the author of creation, is
plain from verse 10. He was in the world,
and the world was made by him. Again,
verse 14, The Word was made flesh and
dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory,
the glory as of the only begotten of the
Father, full of grace and truth. As he
was before all things, so by him all things
consist ; Col. i. 17. He was with the Fath-
er from everlasting, and all that is done in
lime is according to the eternal purpose
which the Father purposed in him. Hence
God chose his people in him, committed
them to his care in the everlasting cove-
nant, and promised eternal life in him before
the world began. Many instances might
be given of Christ's existence before his
incarnation, as he said. Before Abraham
was, I am ; John viii. 58. The plural pro-
nouns used in scripture by the great Eter-
nal when speaking of acts, authority, and
properties peculiar to Deity, are striking
proofs of a plurality of persons in one es-
sence, God said. Let us make man in our
image, after our likeness ; Gen. i. 26. Be-
hold the man is become like one of us ;
chap. iii. 22. Let us go down and confound
their language : chap. xi. 7. Whom shall
I send, who will go for us ? Isaiah, vi. 8.
And respecting all other objects of worship,
Jehovah's language is, Produce your cause,
saith the Lord, bring forth your strong rea-
sons, saith the King of Jacob ; let them
show the former things what they be, that
WE may consider them. Or declare us
things to come, that we may know that ye
are gods ; yea, do good or do evil, that we
may be dismayed, and behold it together.
Isaiah xli. 21, 22, 23. Again, to stain the
pride of man and curb human arrogance,
he asserts his divine prerogative in the fol-
lowing solemn and instructive interroga-
tions. Who hath declared from the begin-
nig that we may know ? And before time,
that WE may say he is righteous ? I be-
held, and there was no man, no counsellor,
that when I asked them could answer a
word ; Isaiah xli. 26, 28. From these and
many more instances which might be pro-
duced, it is evident, that there is a plu-
rality of persons in the one eternal God,
even the Father, the Word, and the Holy
Ghost, and that these three are one. In
the name of which sacred three the holy
ordinance of baptism Avas ordered to be
administered.

The adversaries of Christ's divinity be-
ing conscious, that the scriptures treat of a
plurality of persons employed in creation,
&c. and lest the artful manner of treating
the argument respecting person and es-
sence as aforesaid should not block up the

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

way leading to the divine glories of Jesus,
have invented another stumbling-block to
render the path of faith in Christ's divinity
quite impassable, which is [to advocate]

3. The pre-existence of Christ's soul.
It is acknowledged some have maintained
this sentimant witiiout any designed injury
to the doctrine of the Truiity. But it is
equally evident that some of the most vir-
ulent enemies of Christ's divine personal-
ity, find it impossible to give their scheme
of opposition even the appearance of con-
sistency, but as aided by the aforesaid hy-
pothesis ; therefore gi'eai pains have been
taken to render it plausible, in consequence
of which it has proved a stumbling-block
to some.

But that it was not a human soul which
existed witli the Father before time, and
which made the world, and to which God
spake, saying, Let us make man, &c. &c.
but his own infinitely glorious Son, will ap-
pear, if the following things be duly con-
sidered. He who was with the Father,
was with him from everlasting, rejoicing
always before him, and whose goings forth
have been from of old, from everlasting ;
Mic. V. 2, and who should be called, though
clothed with humanity, the everlasting Fath-
er the mighty God ; Isaiah ix. 6. But it is
absurd to suppose a creature to have exist-
ed before time began. Every creature once
was not ; to suppose a creature always to
have been, is to form an idea of a creature
which was never created ; all things were
made by Jesus Christ, without him nothing
was made that was made ; bat according
to the aforesaid opinion, there was a crea-
ture made which Jesus Christ was no way
concerned in the formation of; for a crea-
ture cannot be thought to have created it-
self, without absvirdly supposing it to have
been before it was, to exist prior to its ex-
istence, or to act while it was nothing, in
order to be something — the above absurdi-
ties are unavoidable : if tlie scripture ac-
count of the creation (as the production of
a plurality of persons) be credited, and the
divinity of Christ be denied.

As a soul could not create itself, so neith-
er could it be the author of the other parts
of the creation, which Jesus Christ is posi-
tively declared to be. For by him Avere all
tilings created that are in heaven, and that
are in earth, visible and invisible, whether
they be thrones, or dominions, principalities,
or powers : all things were created by him
and for him : Col. i. 16. If a human soul
be the author of creation, various creatures
would be above their Creator. Angels,
for instance, would be superior to their
Maker, and excel him in strength ; for man
(which Christ is asserted only to be) is nat-
urally inferior to those celestial spirits.
Thou madest him a little lower than the

angels; which supposes tlie angels were,
when his humanity, was made ; Heb. ii. 7.
The acknowledgment of Christ as Creator,
renders the denial of his proper divinity in-
excusable, and says the foundation oi not
only revealed, but natural religion : for, if
Jesus be the former of all things, the invis-
ible things of him from the creation of the
world are clearly seen, being understood by
tlie tilings that are made, even his eternal
power and Godhead, so that they are without
excuse who glorify him not as God. Rom.
i. 20, 21. Some assert that Christ was on-
ly an instrument in creation ; but the work
of creation was of such a nature as to ex-
clude the idea of an instrumental creator.
An instrument, ii" concerned at all, must
have been employed either before or after
the proditction oi" being, for there was no
medium. Not before, because prior to cre-
ation there was not any thing existing for
an instrument to act upon, or to be em-
ployed about. Not after, because when
a creature does exist, it is too late for an
instrument to be employed in producing it.
Nothing short of infinite agency could pos-
sibly be concerned in creation ; the persons
so engaged were properly divine, and es-
sentially one. However, that there was
no instrument concerned is beyond all di.s-
pute, if what Jehovah says be duly regard-
ed ; for he declares there was none such
with him. Prov. viii. ; Mic. v. 2. Thus
saith the Lord thy Redeemer, and he that
formed thee from the womb ; I am the Lord
that maketh all things, that stretched out
tlie heavens alone, that spreadeth abroad
the earth by myself. Isaiah xliv. 24.
"Which ALONE spreadeth out the heavens.
Job ix. S. Hence it appears, that though
they were distinct persons employed in cre-
ation, yet they were eo united as to be in-
cluded in the one all-creating Jehovah.

4. To render the scheme of opposition to
Christ's divinity more consistent, and the
idea of the soul existing before time, instead
of the Son of God, less exceptionable ; it
has been tliouglit proper to exclude the
body from being an essential constituent
part of a man. Such an exclusion to be
sure was a happy thought, and quite neces-
sary; for without it the all-creating creature
would not have been properly eitlier God,
angel, or man. But that it might be con-
sidered as belonging to some scale or class
of being, " It is asserted to be a proper hu-
man person, a true and real man, the body
being only a temporary covering for, but
not a constituent part of, human nature."
But this method of depreciating the divine
glories ot" the blessed Jesus will prove abor-
tive, if the Scripture account of human
nature be attended to ; and without doubt
he who made man could best describe him.
From the sacred pages we learn, that the

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

Lord God formed man of the dust of the
ground, and breathed into his nostrils the
breath of hfe, and man became a hving
soul ; Gen. ii. 7 : and that the rib, Avhich the
Lord God had taken from man, made he a
woman ! and Adam said, She shall be call-
ed woman, because she was taken out of
man. Again, to Adam as a transgressor,
the Lord said, Dust thou art, and unto dust
shalt thou return ; Gen. iii. 19. Ma7i shall
return again to dust. Now as the soul was
not formed of the dust, nor the rib of which
Eve was made, taken out of the soul ; but
the rib from the body, and the body from
the gi^ound ; therefore the body must be a
constituent part of inan, (or the body only
returns to dust, and yet the Lord says, man
shall return thither. Job xxxiv. 15. Again :
the personal name of man is often given to
the body, which Avould be improper if the
body was not a part of the person. Jacob
in his affecting lamentation says, Joseph is
without doubt rent in pieces. I will go
down into the grave unto my son mourning :
thus his father Avept for him. Gen. xxxvii.
33, 35. It was not the soul, but the body of
his son which he concluded was torn asun
der ; nor his own soul, but his body, that
would go down to the grave. And when
the same patriarch was near death, he
charged his sons, saying. Bury me with my
fathers ; in such a cave which he described :
adding, there they buried Abraham and
Sarah his wife ; there they buried Isaac
and Rebecca his wife, and there I buried
Leah. Gen. xlix. 29, 31.

And that the body of Christ Avas an es
sential part of his humanity, is evident
from what the angel said to his weeping
friends. He is not here he is risen : Come
see the place where the Lord lay. Matt,
xxviii. 6. But if the body was no proper
constituent part of his manhood, he never
lay in the grave ; nor did he ever inse from
the dead, for he did not die. They did not
nail him to the tree ; the whole account of
his corporal sufferings is a mere fiction, if
it be true, that his body was not a proper
constituent part of himself. In a word,
there never will be a resurrectign of any
man, if bodies are not essential to human
nature, and this world of men are quite as
invisible to each other as the world of an-
gels are [to them.] According to that no-
tion, the sight of a man is a singular rarity.
That a soul can exist without a body is
readily allowed, but such a separate exist-
ence is the effect of death ; and can it be
thought reasonable that Christ's first exist-
ence should be a state similar to that of the
dead ? Once more, on such a supposition
Christ could not be the son of man in any
sense, because his soul is said to exist be-
fore all men; and his body not a part of
his humanity. But he was the son of Da-
VoL. 3.— L

vid, a descendant of Abraham, as the scrip-
tures assert, and as the apostle to the He-
brews said, " It is evident our Lord sprung
out of Judah ;"* Heb. vii. 14. To conclude ;
the incarnation of Christ was not only con-
sidered by the great apostle as an instance
of infinite condescension, but admired by
him and every believer in his day, as being
in its nature really inexplicable, and truly
mysterious ; they did not dispute the fact,
though they could not conceive how divinity
and humanity Avere united in one person ;
but rejoiced in, and steadily supported, its
reality as the pillar and ground of the truth.
' Without controversy, great is the mystery
of godliness : God was manifest in the
flesh :" 1 Tim. in. 15, 16. " The Word"
which " was God," " Avas made flesh, and
dwelt amongst us."

But if Christ be only a man, or a mere
creature, the wonder ceases, for it cannot
be thought a thing singular and surprising
for a human soul to possess a body ; nor
for God to manifest himself to a holy crea-
ture, and employ in his .service a good man.
It is truly lamentable and really astonishing
that any who wish to be saved by Jesus,
should endeavor to sink his character and
diminish his dignity : Yea, rejoice in hope
of proving the Saviour infinitely uuAvorthy
of their supreme love and delight. You
happy souls Avho need, knoAV and esteem
the Redeemer, as infinitely powerful, and
divinely precious — oh, pity the condition,
and dread the deception of such, Avhose
peace and pleasure rise high in consequence
of the Saviour sinking lotc in their esteem.
Pray for them, and take heed lest you also
be tempted ; and [labor] that your own
faitli may be firm in, and your love fervent
to, the infinitely glorious and lovely Re-
deemer. Consider and frequently contem-
plate the proofs of his proper divinity, as
recorded in the sacred volume : such as the
properties of which he is possessed, the

■ From a conviction of the sin^lar absurdity attending
the supposiiion of a creature existir.g from eternity, some
have boldly asserted that everlasting from which Christ
is said to exist, only intends a measurable period, and
therefore does not convey the idea of eternity, or un-
limited duration. It is granted that by the term ever-
lasting and eternal hkewise, sometimes is intended no
more than a very distant period, but that is not their
native primary signification. But the natural meaning
of the word is a perpetual existence or infinite duration.
Hence we reaJ, The eternal God is thy refuse, and un-
derneath are the everlasting arms : Deut. xxxiii 27. Art
thou not from everlasting, O Lord, my God ? Hab. i. 12.
If it be said the existence of Christ is limited, as being
only from everlasting, or ever the earth was, and that,
before the mountains were brought forth, or the highest
part of the dust, were qualifying terms tending to estab-
lish a limited idea, therefore though Christ was from
everlasting, yet not eternal ; we answer, the Holy Ghost
has taken care to guard his people against sophistry so
dishonoring to Christ : for Moses, the Man of God, when
treating on Jehovah's eternity, and human morialiiy, says,
Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou
hadst formed the earth and the world, even from ever-
lasting to everlasting thou art God ; Ps. xc. 2. Again,
thy throne is of old. thou art from everlasting. Ps. xciii.
2 See Mich, r 2

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

work he has performed, the worship he has
received from angels and men, the divine
names and titles which are given him, the
honors ascribed to him, the unUmited confi-
dence placed in him by good men in every
age, and the claims which are made by
him ; for he, who was never the subject of
arrogance, thought it not robbery to be
equal with God ; Phil. ii. 6. May the Lord
grant that every reader may search the
scriptures which testify of Jesus, with godly
sincerity and gospel simplicity. To the
upright, light shall rise in darkness. I
might greatly enlarge ; but it is hoped, that
the above considerations may serve through
the Divine blessing to remove the common
difficulties respecting the true knowledge
of, and faith in, the Redeemer's dignity as
a person properly divine. My heart's de-
sire is, that all the saints may be brought
to rejoice in Jesus, as the mighty God, the
Alpha and Omega, the first and the last,
which is, and which was, and which is to
come, the Almighty. Rev. i. 8.

CHAPTER IL

Difficulties concerning the Love of God.

That Jehovah changeth not, is a self-
evident truth, a scripture axiom. " With
him there is no variableness, nor shadow of
turning." Being perfection itself, therefore
the properties of his nature, and purposes
of his will, are absolutely unalterable.
What he has determined, shall be done.
" He is of one mind, and who can turn him?
For the counsel of the Lord standeth for-
ever, the thoughts of his heart to all gene-
rations, and to Zion he says, he will rest in
his love. He will rejoice over her with
singing, for having loved his own wliich
were in the world, he loved them unto the
end." Notwithstanding the above and
such like solemn declarations made by the
God of truth, such objections have been
raised against the unchangeableness of
Jehovah's love, as greatly to perplex and
stumble some who are evidently the dis-
tinguished objects of it.

As wrong conclusions may be drawn
from principles wliich are unexceptionably
right, so I apprehend many of those things
are indisputable facts from whence the
changeable nature of God's love is inferred ;
and indeed, it seems his people are more
agreed in their primary principles, than in
their conclusions. In the former there may
be a happy union, though in the latter they
widely differ, and cast stumbling-blocks in
each other's way. For the exemplification
and removal of which, as relating to the
doctrine of divine love, it may be proper to

observe, that creatures who are now the
objects of God's indignation, were oncu
loved by him; those infernal spirits who
kept not their first estate, thougn now the
abhorred of the Lord, were, while innocent,
the objects of his approbation ; and the
same may be said of man, considered as in
his present state of corruption, and in his
original state of perfection ae created of
God. Jolm i. 1, 14 ; Phil. ii. 6, 7.

It is evident, God could not produce
creatures morally defective, or disagreeable
to himself; tliey were what he willed them
to be, i. e. good, yea, very good, and as such
were loved and delighted in, by their Ma-
ker. Every creature being Jehovah's pro-
duction, therefore no creature was, in its
original state, tiie object of his disapproba-
tion : and yet many of tliem are now the
declared objects of his hatred and indigna-
tion. From the above self-evident facts, it
is inferred by some sincere inquirers after
truth, that the love of God is changeable,
and not invariably fixed on its objects;
which inference has perplexed many of the
people of God, and proved a stumbling-
block in their way to a proper acquaintance
Avith several very important truths in divine
revelation. From this source various errors
have proceeded, by which the glorious gos-
pel of the grace of God has been beclouded,
the faith of many Christians staggered, and
their joy in Jesus and hope of glory greatly
diminished. But that the above plnusible
inference is a false conclusion, (though
drawn from undeniable facts,) will I hope
be made plainly [to] appear, if we impar-
tially survey the doctrine of Jehovah's love
in the light of divine revelation.

The love of God, according to the scrip-
tures, ought to be considered [under these
distinctions, viz.] as Natural and as Sove-
reign. The righteous Lord loveth righte-
ousness, and holiness is his perpetual de-
light. This love arises from the perfection
and purity of his nature, and has lor its
object his own holy image, as enstamped
upon his rational creatures; or in other
words, in holy dispositions and correspond-
ing acts, tlie Lord takes pleasure and de-
light. He is of purer eyes than to behold
iniquity with approbation, or look on holiness
with disgust. His hatred of sin, and love
of purity, are not acts of divine sovereignty.
Sin is not hateful because God willed it
should be so, but is odious in its own nature
to every pure being ; and is therelbre infi-
nitely hateful to an infinitely holy God.

God does not hate sin, because he has by
his law forbidden it ; but has forbidden it,
because it is what he loathes, as contrary
to his holy nature. Perfect conformity to
God, and supreme delight in him as the
chief good, arc enforced by God's holy law,
because of their native excellency and pro-

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

priety. Holiness then, being the object of
God's natural love, or essential approbation,
and sin the reverse, it necessarily follows
that every unholy creature is odious in the
sight of God ; therefore a creature having
lost its purity, ceases to be the object of his
natural approbation ; yet the alteration is
not in God, but in the creature, which is
become, through moral impurity, what he
■abhors. God's natural love is still unalter
ably fixed on personal purity, wherever it
is found; but in reference to a polluted
creature, love has lost its object, that on
which it was fixed being quite annihilated
or destroyed.

Thus it appears that the various ranks of
intelligent creatures AVere, in their original
condition, interested in God's favor. Even
those abominable beings, called devils,
were, while holy, the objects of their Ma-
ker's love and approbation, as well as the
angels who continue to shine in holy splen-
dor and untainted purity. Though a part
of the angelic world, and the whole human
race, have, by their revolt from God, be-
come vile, and cease to be the objects of
the Lord's delight, yet there is no variable-
ness or change in Jehovah. But, to every
proper object, " God is love ;" 1 John. iv.
16; for God has no aversion to his creatures,
simply considered as creatures ; but on ac-
count of their moral depravity ; nor does he
necessarily love them, because they owe
their existence to his sovereign will and
ahniglity power ; but as the subjects of his
moral image, wliich consists in righteous-
ness and true Jioliness. As all mankind
have lost the image of God in which they
were created, and become base and abomi
nable in his sight, being filthy and guilty
before him, they must have continued in a
condition eternally disgustful to God, and
in a state tremendously terrible to them-
selves, had not the Lord been pleased to
show them kindness in a sovereign way ;
being graciously determined to save whom
he thought proper, with an everlasting sal-
vation. That love from which salvation
springs is [not natural but] properly sove-
reign; [not necessary but] absolutely /ree.
None are its objects because they deserved
to be so, nor was God under any necessity
of nature so to distinguish them; but it
consisted in a voluntary determination to do
good to the persons he sovereignly fixed
upon as his people, with infinite and invari-
able delight.

If, then, we consider the voluntary love of
the great Eternal as distinct from, and yet
harmonizing with, that [riatural and neces-
sary love] of which we have been treating,
difficulties, which otherwise are insurmount-
able, will disappear. That love which is
essential, or natural to God, has personal
holiness or pure principles for its invariable

object. But sovereign love fixed upon per-
sons, without a regard had to their disposi-
tions as its cause ; which sovereign favor is
entirely uninfluenced by their dispositions,
and is beautifully illustrated by the Lord's
voluntary favor to the person of Jacob, and
the distinguished special privileges enjoyed
by his posterity, without respect had to his
having done either good or evil. Jacob
have 1 loved, saith the Lord. Rom. ix. 13.*
And Moses, speaking of Israel as a chosen
people, observes. The Lord, did not set his
love upon you, nor choose you because ye
were more in number than any people, (tor
ye were the fewest of all people,) but be-
cause the Lord loved you. Deut. vii. 7, 8.
Such as it hath pleased the Lord to make
his people, 1 Sam. xii. 22. may with humble
joy and holy admiration say, " Behold what
manner of love the Father hath bestowed
upon us, that we should be called the sons
of God." 1 John iii. 1. This sovereign
love of the Lord to his spiritual Israel, set
apart his own son, Immanuel, as the head
of his people, and gave their persons to him
before the world was ; and in time gave him
to die for them. God sovereignly loved
their persons, but abhorring their sinful
conduct and criminal dispositions, was de^
termined to remove that from them which
he hated in them, and by creating them
anew in Christ Jesus, or implanting holy
and heavenly principles in their souls, to
make them a holy people, that as such they
might become the suitable, fit and proper
objects of his natural, necessary, and essen-
tial love ; which, as aforesaid, has holiness
for its invariable object. Sovereign love
having their persons only for its objects,
without being excited by their dispositions,
is therefore invariably the same, without
addition or diminution. Hence all that is
done for them, and wrought in them, is in
consequence of; and according to that great
love wherewith he loved them, even when
they were dead in trespasses and sins.
This sovereign love is the fruit of God's
good pleasure, or the effect of gracious
good-will to them. The utility and propri-
ety of the above distinction, were it suffi-
ciently attended to, would appear as bright
as the sun in a clear meridian. I wish
some able pen would undertake to investi-
gate the subject more fully than either my
talents or time will admit of. However, the
few following remarks I hope may be of .
use to weak Christians, for whose sake I
write, either to rectify tlieir judgments —

The liatred of Esau, as opposed to the love of the
Lord to Jacob, is not to be considered as implying any
positive indignation to his person as a sinner ; because
the love and the hatred spoken of, was without their
having done either good or evil ; it only intends his not
being loved as Jacob was. In this sense, hatred is (o be
understood in Deut. xxi. 15; Luke xiiv. 26; and John
xii. 25.

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

stimulate their obedience — increase their
joy, — or relieve their perplexity.

1. From the sacred oracles it appears,
that God's necessary hatred to sin is not
contrary to his sovereign love or gracious
intentions to do good to his people, even
while ihey are subjecfs of no other dif?posi-
tions tlian what he abhors. If sovereign
love to the sinner was inconsistent with Jiis
infinite hatred to sin, who then could be
saved ? For fallen men are, as such, be-
come altogether abominable in the eyes of
their holy Maker, the imagination of their
hearts being, while unrenewed, evil, only
evil, and that continually. " They are cor-
rupt, they have done abominable works,
there is none that doeth good, no not one ;"
Psal. xiv. 1, 3 ; compared with Rom. iii. 9,
18. " We ourselves also, were sometimes
foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving divers
lusts and pleasures, living in malice and
envy, hateful and hating one another.'
Tit. iii. 3. They who do such things are
worthy of death, and likewise those who
take pleasure in them that do them. Rom
i. 32. " So then they that are in the flesh
cannot please God ;" Rom viii. 8. Never-
theless, '' God commended his love towards
us, in that while Ave were yet sinners Christ
died for us ;" Rom. v. 8. " Herein is love,
not that we loved God, but that he loved
us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation
for our sins ;" 1 John iv. 10. " In this was
the love of God manilest." Ver. 9. "Yea,
I have loved thee Avith an everlasting lov^e :
therefore with loving kindness have I drawn
thee ;" Jer. xxxi. 3. Jesus when pleading
with his Father on behalf of his chosen
says, " Thou hast loved them as thou hast
loved me, and thou lovedst me before the
foundation of the Avorld." John xvii. 23,
24. " We all had our conversation in times
past in the lust of the flesh, fulfilling the
desires of the flesh and of the mind, and
were by nature the children of Avrath, even
as others. But God, Avho is rich in mercy,
for his great love wherewith he loved us,
even when we were dead in sins, hath
quickened us, &c." Eph. ii. 3, 4, 5. Re-
specting their persons they Avere loved
while in their sins; but [they were] not
loved in reference to their rlisposiiiojis.
No ; God necessarily hated, Avhile he sore-
reignly loved. " But after that the kindness
and love of God our Saviour appeared
toward man ; not by works of righteousness
which we have done, but according to his
mercy he saved us, by the Avashing of
regeneration, and renewing of the Holy
Ghost j" Tit. iii. 5. Being thus the Avork-
manship of God created ancAV in Christ,
the church becomes the object of the Lord's
necessary love, or natural dehght. As he
saith, " I will call her beloyed which was
not beloved ;" Rom. ix. 25.

2. Those Avho are renewed in the spirit
of their minds, and possessed of holy prin-
ciples, and arc undeniably, as such, the ob-
jects of God's natural love, yet through sin
become the objects of his holy displeasure.
Nevertheless, that docs not suppose, nor
imply any change in Jeho\'ah. Not in his
snveieigii good will, [Avhich has regard] to
their persons, and Avhich is still the same,
being the effect of his mere good pleasure,
and not fixed on them because of any good
moral quality in them. Nor is there any
change in his natural love, because only
holiness is its iuA'ariable object. Agreeably
to, and in proof of the above, Ave read that
though God loved, yet he greatly ahhon-ed
Israel, and Awas Avroth with his inheritance.
Ps. Ixxviii. 59, 62. Being defiled with their
own Avorks, therefore was the Avrath of the
Lord kindled against his people, insomuch
that he abhorred his own inheritance ;" Ps.
cvi. 40. " Nevertheless he regarded them
when he heard their cry ;" A'er. 44. " Yea, \
mine heritage, saith the Lord, is unto me as {
a lion in the forest, it crieth out against me,
therefore I hate it. I hale the dearly beloved i
of my soul ;" Jer. xii. 7, 8. '• Thou hast
wearied me AAnith thine iniquities ;" yet
sovereign grace breaks forth in Israel's
fixvor, and Jehovah adds, " I, eA^en I, am he
that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine
OAvn sake, and Avill not remember thy sins;"
Isaiah xliii. 24, 25. " I knew thou AA'ouldest
deal very treacherously, and Avas called a
transgressor from the womb. Yet, saith
the Lord, for my name's sake Avill I defer
mine anger, and for mj^ praise will I refrain
for thee, that I cut thee not off"; Isaiah
xlviii. 8, 9. "For the iniquity of his cove-
tousness was I AAToth and smote him, I hid
me and Avas Avroth, and he Avent on fro-
Avardly in the way of his heart." And Avas
not the desperate sinner made a dreadful
example of Divine displeasure ? He must
have been so, had not free exuberant grace
interposed in his favor, saying, " I have
seen his ways, and I will heal him," Isaiah
Ivii. 17, IS. SoA'ereign love triumphs in
the -sinner's salvation, through the merits of
the Almighty Saviour, in a AA^ay AA'hich dis-
plays the infinite purity of Jehovah's nature
and [his] unmerited favor. Sin giA-es many
a mortal AA'ound, but grace provides a cure.

Thus, from the example of God's con-
duct toward backsliding saints, AA'e haA'e
striking proofs that neither God's natural
nor [his] sovereign love change their ob-
jects. Holiness is the invariable object of
the former, and the persons of liis people
the objects of the latter. I might add, all
the good Avhich sovereign grace does Avork,
or implant in tiie human heart, meets with
God's necessary approbation in all its gen-
uine operations. He attends to the lan-
guage of penitence Avith pleasure. He

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

says of mourning Ephraim, whom he heard
bemoaning himselt', " My bowels are trou-
bled for him, and I earnestly remember him
still." With what melting pity does he
address the soul that seeks tor soUtude to
lament its doleful condition ? " O my dove,
thou art in the clefts of the rocks ; let me
see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice,
for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance
is comely." Song ii. 14. Sovereign love
having given sight to the soul which was
before blind to the beauties of Immanuel,
to Jesus it now looks and loves; and he
being delighted with the exercise of grace,
says, " Thou hast ravished my heart, tliou
hast ravished my heart with one of thine
eyes ; how fair is thy love, my sister, my
spouse ! How much better is thy love than
wine ; and the smell of thine ointments than
all spices !" Song iv. 10. The productions
of sovereign grace God naturally loves,
and therefore takes pleasure in them that
fear him, in them who hope in his mercy.
Ps. cxlvii. 11. Once more;

3. Of diat love which is essential to the
nature of God, good men are not equally
the objects ; for as no man is its object but
in consequence of being the subject of holi-
ness, therefore a growth in grace, or in holy
obedience, wiU ever meet with God's in-
creasing approbation. Christ, as man,
though ever pure, " increased in favor with
God ;" Luke ii. 92. " Therefore doth my
Father love me (said Jesus) because I laid
down my life :" John x. 17. " He that lov-
eth me shall be loved of my Father, and I
will love him. If a man love me, he will
keep my words, and my Father will love
him, and we will come unto him, and make
our abode with him." John xiv. 21, 23.
"For the Father himself loveth you, be-
cause ye have loved me, and have believed
that I came out from God ;" John xvi. 27.
" Keep yourselves in the love of God ;
Jude, verse 21. " As the Father hath loved
me, so have I loved you ; continue ye in my
love. If ye keep my commandments, ye
shall abide in my love, even as I have kept
my Father's commandments and abide in
his love ;" John xv. 9, 10. Though all re-
generate persons are evidently the equal
objects of special sovereign favor, and with
them, as in Christ, the Lord is well pleased
for his righteousness' sake; Isaiah xlii. 21,
and their persons are accepted in the belov-
ed ; yet with many of them the Lord is not
well pleased, with respect to the temper of
their hearts, and manner of life. See 1
Cor. X. 4, 5. Therefore " only let your con-
versation be as becometh the gospel of
Christ." " We beseech you, brethren, and
exhort you by the Lord Jesus Christ, that
as ye have received of us how ye ought to

walk, and to please God, so ye would
abound more and more ;" Phil. i. 27. 1
Thess. iv. 1. "Knowing that your labor
shall not be in vain in the Lord." 1 Cor.
XV. 58. " For God is not unrighteous to
forget your work and labor of love ;" Heb.
vi. 10. From the above v/e may infer :

1. That the everlasting damnation of
those who kept not their first estate in
which they enjoyed the Divine approbation,
does not oppose the unchangeable nature
of Jehovah's love, nor render the eternal
salvation of his people precarious or uncer-
tain.

2. How carefully should every saint
watch against every sin, and strive to grow
in perfect conformity to his God. True
happiness will ever be found inseparably
connected with real holiness; and sin,
wherever it is, will invariably remain the
object of God's displeasure. On the ac-
count of this he hides his face, and is wroth
with his people ; and though he pardon
them, yet he will take vengeance on their
inventions ; for whom he loveth he chasten-
eth.

3. How awfully miserable must our con-
dition have been, having lost that rectitude
of nature in which God dehghted, had he
not proceeded tov/ards us in a way of sov-
ereign grace, choosing us in, and commit-
ting our persons to the care of his own
Son, laying our iniquities upon him, and
punishing him for them, and justifying us
on his account, conveying hohness, pardon
and peace, through him, to make us pure
and spotless before his throne ! There, in
that world of bliss, God, in all his essential
glories, will be forever enjoyed the same as
though sin had never been ; with additional
pleasures arising from the amazing infinite
source of sovereign spontaneous favor.
The hearts of the redeemed will be ravish-
ed, their powers of mind animated, and
their elevated songs make heaven's high
arches ring with the joyful acclamation of,
Salvation to our Ood and the Lamb. A
full evidence of the infinite desert of sin,
which seems to be intended by the smoke
of the furnace ascending before the throne,
will heighten their admiration of sovereign
love, and fill their capacious souls with un-
speakable joy, profound reverence, and holy
wonder.

4. Opposition to the sovereign grace of
God is truly lamentable. How mournful
to think that poor condemned criminals
should be filled with enmity against that, in
consequence of which, only, salvation can
become the object of hope. It is a striking
proof of the deceitful and infatuating nature
of sin, and the pride of the human heart.

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

CHAPTER III.

Tlie Doctrine of Electioiu

Some upright minds, being subject to dis-
couragements through misapprehensions
which are olten the truit of misrepresenta-
tions of truth, I shall [now] attend to anoth-
er subject nearly cormected with the above,
at the very name of which some professors
are startled, though it is frequently met
with in the scriptures of truth. [This sub-
ject is the doctrine of Election.]

1. Election or choice always implies free-
dom of will in the person or persons who
choose or elect. Constraint or compulsion
is incompatible with, and opposite to choice,
which must be voluntary or not at all.

2. Every elector has an end in view, in
respect of which he makes his choice, or
for the accomplishment of which the choice
is made.

3. The person chosen is always consid-
ered as passive, being entirely at the will
of the elector, so far as relates to the act
of choosing.

These three ideas are inseparably con-
nected with election, or a proper choice,
whatever kind of election we refer to, wheth-
er made by God or man. But some young
or weak Christians have confused or dis-
couraging ideas of the doctrine now under
consideration, for want of attending to the
diiferent senses in which the scriptures
speak of persons being the chosen, or the
elect of God. Of this ignorance or inat-
tention the opposers of sovereign grace
take the advantage ; and in order to per-
plex or prejudice their minds, produce scrip-
ture instances of some who were elected,
and nevertheless perished in their sins, as
there is rea.son to think Saul and Judas did,
and yet both of them were chosen of God.
Hence it is inferred, that as some are lost
who were elected, therefore election does
not secure the salvation of tliose who are
chosen, but is of such a nature as to leave
their future happiness and final felicity en-
tirely precarious. As such inferences as
the above, at the first view, wear the ap
pearance of truth, it is no wonder that some
gracious persons are inditierent about the
doctrine. But the apostle exhorts Chris
' tians to give all diligence to make their
calling and election sure, by being able to
produce such evidences as may demonstrate
their personal interest in Jehovah's choice :
Ihe knowledge of which, in the judgment
of Jesus, is calculated to produce in his
people greater pleasure than they ought to
take from the evidence of devils being in
subjection to them. To have hell van-
quished must afford unutterable joy to those
who wrestle with the powers of darkness ;

" notwithstanding in this rejoice not, that the
spirits are subject unto you, (saith the Lord,)
but rather rejoice because your names are
written in heaven." Luke x. 20. For the
relief of serious inquirers after the truth, it
may be proper to observe, that by Elec-
tion, in scripture is sometimes intended
God's setting apart, or choosing a people,
to the enjoyment of peculiar external privi-
leges ; in that sense he chose the Jewish
nation, and therefore they as a nation, not-
withstanding their wickedness, are frequent-
ly called the Lord's elect, or chosen peo-
ple. Again, the Lord hath elected, or cho-
sen particular persons to act in office capa-
city ; as Samuel, Saul, David, and many
more under the Old Testament ; and Peter,
James, Judas, and others, were chosen, or
elected in like manner under the New.
Hence Jesus said to his disciples, " Have
not I chosen you twelve ? and one of you
is a devil."

But the election of grace, of which I am
treating, is of a ditierent nature, and con-
sists in God's choosing of persons in Christ
Jesus, or setting them apart as in connec-
tion with him, to salvation, through sancti-
fication of the Spirit and belief of the
truth. Salvation was the end C^od had in
view ; to bring his chosen to the possession
and enjoyment of salvation, not only as
consisting in a dehverance from punish-
ment, but from all iniquity. Therefore in
the definition the apostle gives of the doc-
trine, sanctification by tlie Spirit, and a
true laith, were what tliese persons were
chosen to be the subjects of, through which
only, salvation could be enjoyed. This
choice was Irom the beginning, or ever the
earth was. They were not chosen, because
they were viewed as holy, and therefore
deserving to be distinguished as God's fav-
orites, on account of their obedience or per-
sonal purity, but that they should be holy.
The great apostle, in his deep, but delight-
ful epistle to the saints at Ephesus, treats
of the important subject in so full, plain,
and accurate a manner, as to answer almost
every pertinent query that can be made
respecting the doctrine. He begins with
expressions of fervid affection and humble
gratitude to its infinite Author, saying.
Blessed be the God and Father of our
Lord Jesus Christ.

Q. 1. What hath he done 1

A. Who hath blessed us.

Q. 2. Witli what hath he blessed us ?

A. With all spiritual blessings.

Q. 3. Where are those blessings depos-
ited?

A. In Christ.

Q. 4. Where may seeking souls expect
to find and enjoy them 1

A. In heavenly places (or things.)

Q. 5. According to what does he pro-

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS,

ceed in the bestowment of such special I
privileges : is it owing to our choice of him ?

A. No : but according as he hath cho-
sen us in him.

Q. 6. "When?

A. Before the foundation of the world.

Q. 7. But did he choose us because we
were holy, or because he foresaw we would
be so?

A. No ; but that we should be holy.

Q. 8. Did he then intend that all such
should be made completely holy ?

A. Yes, and without blame before him
in love.

Q. 9. And is every thing aforesaid ab-
solutely secured ?

A. Yes, having predestinated us.

Q. 10. Predestinated to what ?

A. Unto the adoption of children.

Q. 11. By, and to whom ?

A. By Jesus Christ to himself

Q. 12. What is the source of such fa-
vors, or from whence do they flow ?

A. The good pleasure of his will.

Q. 13. In what does the whole termin-
ate, or to what does it lead ?

A. To the praise of the glory of his
grace.

Wherein he hath made us accepted in
the Beloved, in whom we have redemption
through his blood, the forgiveness of sins
according to the riches of his grace. See
Eph. i. 4th to the 12th. Again, the same
inspired writer asserts, such were " chosen
to salvation, through sanctification of the
Spirit and belief of the truth." 2 Thess.
ii. 13. God kindly connected their final fe-
licity and his own eternal glory, when he
ordained them to eternal life. Acts xiii.
48. But though Judas was chosen to office,
he was not chosen to holiness, for Jesus,
when speaking to the disciples as his ser-
vants and true followers (Judas being pres-
ent) he said, I speak not of you all. I know
whom I have chosen. John xiii. IS. The
names of his chosen are written in heaven,
and all such are freed from condemnation.
Who shall lay any thing to the charge of
God's elect? Rom. viii. 33. All this could
not [with propriety] be said, of the Jewish
nation, nor of Judas, and many more who
have been chosen [merely] to office: be-
sides, individuals are called the elect, who
could not bear rule in the church of God ;
for a woman was not suffered to speak in
the church, nor usurp authority over the
man, but was to be in sile;ice. 1 Tim. ii.
12. Yet we read of an elect lady and her
elect sister. 2 John i. 13. If God hath
thus chosen, the end he had in view will
certainly be accomphshed, for saith Jesus,
" All that the Father givelh me shall come
unto me, and him that cometh unto me I
will in no wise cast out." "His people
shall be willing in the day of his power,"

for having " loved them with an everlast-
ing love, therefore with loving kindness
will he draw them." No one instance can
be given of God having chosen any people,
person, or place, to that which was not ac-
tually accomplished. Did the Lord choose
the Jewish nation to peculiar privileges?
Yes, and in consequence of that choice
they had the advantage of all other nations,
and much every way. Samuel did actu-
ally prophesy, and Saul and David were
really kings in Israel. Judas was actually
numbered with the apostles, and with them
took part of the ministry to which he was
elected. Moses was Israel's leader, and
lawgiver, because he was chosen by the
Lord to such dignity. Aaron and his des-
cendants were priests of the most high God,
because they were elected by him to that
office. So the Lord chose Jerusalem as
the residence of the ark, and the place
where sacrifices should be offered ; and
thither the tribes of Israel actually repaired
to worship, and adore him whose dwelling
was in Zion. In no one instance did Jeho-
vah choose in vain. The ends he had in
view were ever accomplished. And if so,
can there be any reason assigned why those,
and those only who were chosen to the
greatest blessings, should fall short of them ?
But the foundation standeth sure, having
this seal, the Lord knoweth them that are
liis. In every age " as many as were or-
dained to eternal hfe believed" " the election
obtained it, but the rest were blinded" by
^' the god of this world, who blindeth the
eyes of them who believe not." " So then
at this present time also there is a remnant
according to the election of grace, and if
by grace, then it is no more of works, other-
wise grace is no more grace." Rom. xi.
5, 6.

Another stumbling-block in the way of
many inquirers, next to the doctrine of elec-
tion, is reprobation, which is generally [but
improperly] considered as the counterpart
of election, and related to it as its direct
opposite ; as a negative, is related to a pos-
itive idea. But if it be understood as the
negative of election, is it not strange it
should change its nature, and, in contro-
versy, become a positive idea? And yet
as such it has been [both] opposed and de-
fended with great warmth ; for the adver-
saries of sovereign grace scarcely ever di-
rectly encounter the doctrine of election ;
but artfully file off to reprobation, as if
they were conscious [that] election was
itself mvulnerable, and could not possibly
be reduced. But from the mountain of
reprobation they attack the doctrine intend-
ed to be demohshed, and charge it with the
most horrid consequences, too shocking to
relate. These consequences tlie defend-
lers of sovereign grace have repeatedly

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

f)roved to be quite foreign to, and not in the
east inferable from, the doctrine of God's
sovereign choice of his people to grace and
glory. But perhaps their defence of the
doctrine of reprobation has not been equal-
ly successful. [And no wonder ; they have
unwarily admitted it to be the opposite of
election ; and tliis admission] has been
stumbling to many inquirers after truth,
and encouraging to its oppoeers. Election
or choice, indeed, implies a negative, or
that some are not chosen ; which the scrip-
ture calls the rest : this is readily allowed,
but reprobation as mentioned in scripture is
never opposed to election. To the doc-
trine of election it does not seem related,
but stands in a quite different situation in
the system of scriptural divinity.

1. I'i reprobation conveyed the idea of
non-election, by a person being reprobated,
we should understand one not elected ; but
how will such an idea comport with the
apostle's reasoning, when he says, " Know
ye not that Jesus Christ is in you except ye
be reprobates ?" 2 Cor. xv. 15. To sup-
pose him to mean they were not elected if
Christ was not in them, is supposing him
to contradict his own experience, and op-
pose self-evident facts ; for there was a
time when Christ was not in Paul himself;
during which period he was exceeding
mad against those who professed the name
of Jesus. But. says he, " it pleased God to
reveal his Son in me." Before this hap-
py change took place he was in a state of
reprobation^ for Christ was not in him, amj
yet he was never in a state of non-election,
but was one chosen in Christ before the
world was. Again, he could not mean if
Christ was not in them they were not elect-
ed, because Christ is not naturally in his
elect, as most of them know ; and [they]
lament, when called by grace, that they
lived without God and without Christ in
the world; therefore, during that period,
they were reprobates, not having Christ in
them ; nevertheless they were the elect of
God, of which their bemg called by grace
is a proof From hence it appears that
reprobation is not the opposite of election.

2. That reprobation is not the opposite
of election will appear evident, if it be con-
sidered that election is an act of divine sov-
ereignity, arising merely from the will of
God, without any fitness in creatures de-
serving to be so distinguished ; but repro-
bation, whenever the word is used in scrip-
ture, respects a comparative deficiency, or
an essential defect in those who are repro-
bated. Election is the effect of or entirely
flows from the good pleasure of God's will
in favor of the persons of his people ; but
reprobation originates not merely from
God's will, but from the natural contrariety

there is between Jehovah's purity and their
'pollution.

3. Ifepmbation in scripture always stands
opposed to, and is the natural negative of,
approbation, whether it respects the state
of a person, the frame of his mind, or the
nature of his actions. Hence, vile profess-
ors are compared to the alloy or dross fre ■
quently mixed with metal, which on trial
is found base or deficient in quality ; there-
fore " reprobate silver shall men call them,
because the Lord has rejected them." Jer.
vi. 30. So in the text before mentioned,
" Know ye not that Christ is in you except
ye be reprobates?" the apostle's obvious
meaning is, that such are destitute of real
worth. For however splendid a profession
be, yet without Christ, all will be found
mere refuse at last ; therefore he puts them
upon close examination, lest they should
be deceived by appearances. Thinking
themselves something, while in fact they are
nothing. Hence in the next verse he adds,
" But I trust that ye shall know that we are
not reprobates." 2 Cor. xiii. 5, 6 ; and in
verse 7, he says, "Now I pray to God tiiat
ye do no evil, not that we should appear
approved, but that ye should do that which
is honest, though we be as reprobate.^."'
Thus he considers reprobation and appro-
bation as natural opposites. Again, men
of corrupt minds are said to be ^-reprobate
concerning the fliith," i. e. destitute of a
true understanding of the truth. 2 Tim.
iii. 8. And the " abominable and disobe-
dient are unto every good work reprobate.''''
Tit i. 16. Agreeable, therefore, to this
view of reprobation, those vile atiections lo
which the Gentiles were given up, are call-
ed '■'■ a reprobate mind.''^ Rom. i. 26, 28, 29.
Meaning that their dispositions and conduct
were odious, and could not possibly be ap-
proved of, either by God or good men.
From the above considerations it evidently
appears, that election and reprobation are
not inseparably connected, nor even so
much as related as kindred ideas, and that
reprobation does not intend an absolute ap-
pointment to eternal misery, for such may
still find mercy as Paul did ; but that it is
the awful opposite to divine approbation,
whether it respects persons, principles, or
proceedings.

But some may reply, Though the term
reprobation should be disused as relating
to election, yet if the ideas be retained
which were conveyed by it, the doctrine is
not less exceptionable than before. True ;
therefore, let us calmly consider whether
those horrid ideas, which the opposers of
election have always connected with the
term reprobation, are, or are not, as foreign
to the doctrine of^ election as the term itself
The most decent and sober opposers of the

HELP TO Z ION'S TRAVELLERS.

doctrine in question, generally charge it
with implying three things : 1. An appoint-
ment to inevitable destruction of those who
are not elected ; therefore, 2. That the doc-
« trine of election is injurious to those not in-
cluded in it ; and consequently, 3. Is a re-
flection on the justice or moral character
of God. These reasons, it is confessed,
are quite sufficient to justify a dissent from
the doctrine, or an opposition to it, suppos-
ing them well founded. But whether these
awful inferences are the genuine offspring
of election or not will appear, if brought
under impartial examination.

1. Respecting the first objection, the
question is. Whether the doctrine of election
(supposing it a fact) be the cause of, or in
the least influential upon, an appointment of
any creature to destruction ? That it was
neither the cause nor the occasion of such
an appointment is demonstrably evident
from its very nature. It could not have such
a tendency, because election is an act abso-
lutely sovereign, or a gracious act arising
simply from Jehovah's will. But punish-
ment does not arise from divine sovereignty.
If it did, it would be causeless ; but God
never punished (therefore never intended to
do so) without a criminal cause in the crea-
ture. God does not punish for sin because
it was his sovereign will ; but his very will
to punish arises from the holiness of his na-
iure and the equity of his government;
therefore God's intention to punish arises
from a distinct source from that out of
which election springs. They are in their
nature eternally distinct, as any acts of God
can possibly be. Such a charge, therefore,
might as well be brought against creation
as election. It seems very strange that any
serious person should oppose the idea of
God's decreeing to punish for sin, seeing
he actually does so, which he could not, if
it was an unrighteous thing in God to take
vengeance. If it be right for the Lord to
punish those who are punished by him, it
could not be wrong to resolve to do so, un-
less it be wrong to determine to do what is
right. However, such a decree does not
arise from election. What is opposite to
election, is a mere negation, or a leaving
others in that state in which ail men are
viewed by the great Eternal when he chose
his people : therefore,

2. The doctrine is not injurious to those
not included in it ; for if election respected
its objects as sinless, or simply considered
as creatures formed of God, which some
think, seeing the happy angels and the per-
son of Christ were included in Jehovah's
choice, those /ro??2. among whom thoy were
chosen could not be deemed ptmishable,
being considered in their pure unlallcn state;
therefore election, if so considered, could
not in the nature of things, be the cause or

Vol. 3.-J.

occasio7i of God's designing to punish any
man. If the election of men be considered
as a choice of criminal creatures, or oi'
creatures considered as in a sinful fallen
state, in which light it is viewed by many,
because the choice is unto salvation through
sanctification of the spirit, (however, the
different stating of the doctrine is only a
circumstance which does not alter the na-
ture of the truth stated, for if it be thus con-
sidered,) it unavoidably follows, that as
those not included in the sovereign choice,
were viewed by God as sinful when the
choice was made ; therefore the choice
could not possibly make them sinful nor
cause them to be viewed as criminals. It
is singularly absurd to suppose the pres-
cience of God, or his all-comprehending
understanding, to be the fruit of his sove-
reign will ; and yet this absurdity, gross as
it is, attends the objection, which is the
same as saying, if God had not elected
some, he would never have known or
thought of the condition of others. As no
injury is done to any man by the doctrine
in question, therefore,

3. It is not contrary to, or an impeach-
ment of, the moral character of God. In
election there is no connivance at sin im-
phed. By it, sin in the chosen was not ren-
dered less odious, nor justice partially ad-
ministered in their favor, but a surety was
graciously substituted in their stead, who
bore their sins, and was wounded for their
transgressions, and by whose obedience the
law of God was magnified, and through his
death impartial justice shone with tremen-
dous lustre. Had the crimes of which the
elect was guilty been transferred or impu-
ted io those who perish, in that case an ex-
emption of the elect from punishment would
have been unjust and injurious, because
mercy shown to them would have heightened
the misery of others. But as every one who
perishes suffers only according to the de-
merit of his own personal sins, therefore to
infer that the doctrine of election is detri-
mental to man, and unworthy of God, dis-
covers either pitiable weakness, or power-
ful prejudice ; for such inferences seem as
opposite to truth, decency and common
sense, as a man would appear to be, if he
undertook to prove that God is cruel be-
cause he is kind, and that those have great
cause to complain who were never injured.
That the doctrine is not inimical to Chris-
tian experience, but of contrary tendency,
will be shown in its proper place. What
has been said I hope may tend to remove
the objections against it,* as a revealed

* The following condensed view of the doctrine of
plection, may, perhaps, not be unacceptable to the young
rhiislian.

1. There is a manife.sl difference among mankind in
their moral and religious character; — a difference which

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

truth of great importance, in consequence
of which Christ and his people were so con-
nected that what he did was impiUable to
them.

CHAPTER IV.

Union to Christ.

Though the Scriptures speak with re-
markable plainness of the near relation sub-
sisting between Christ and his church, in
consequence of electing love, yet various
stumbling-blocks are frequently found in
the way of [those who desire] clear views
of that doctrine ; for the removal of which,
if God please to bless the attempt let us
now briefly consider, [that relation to
Christ which is expressed by the title of
the present chapter.]

Various warm disputes have existed
among the people of God about union to
Christ, particularly as relating to its com-
mencement, which is thought by some to
have been from everlasting, and by others
not till, or after believing. Though agreed in
the main about its nature and duration,
each side has been pretty free, and fertile
in the invention of consequences, as arising
from their opponents' sentiments, which
[consequences,] perhaps, are equally ab-
horrent to both. On this account, many
sincere inquirers after truth have been
greatly discouraged, wounded in their
minds, and prevented making progress in
religious attainments. Some are likewise
perplexed and stumbled by a third party,
who, differing from the other about the na-

is not merely external, but apparently, radical and essen-
tial : some are the subjects of real, vital piety, of which
others are entirely destitute.

2. As every effect must originate in some cause, so
this difference in men's characters is an effect of some
cause, and the Scriptures attribute it to God ; Eph. ii. 3,
5. "We were by nature children of wrath even as oth-
ers; but God — hath quickened us."

3. As God is the author of this difference, he has,
doubtless, in producing it, acted like an intelligent and
wise being. But such a Being does not act till he has
determived to act ; and each act is part of a plan of ope-
ration : therefore, before God produced this difference in
men'scharaclers, he determined to produce it, and the
change produced, is part of his great plan of operations ;
i. e. what he has done in time, he has resolved to do be-
fore time began : he determined, then, to effect the very
change he has effected, and in the very persons in whom
he has effected It ; (Rom. vlii. 29, 30,) and this determi-
nation is election.

From Ihls it will be seen that, election has absolutely
no bearing upon any but the saved ; it does not touch, or
at all regard others ;— no more than if they had not any
being. It leaves them exactly as they were, and as they
would have been if there had been no election at all.

From an inspection of the passage just referred to, in
connection with the above remarks, it will be seen, also,
that so far from election securing the salvation of any,
irrespective of character and piety, their rAarac^er is one
object regarded in their election ; and election secures
that it shall be holy ; (Eph, I, 4.) Election, as we have
seen, was the determination that there should be a differ-
ence in conduct and character between its objects and
others : and that they should be sanctified in spirit, by
the belief of the truth. 2. Thes. ii. 13.

ture of the union, therefore deny its dura-
bility^ and maintain that those who are in
Christ to-day may possibly be in hell to^
morrow. Perhaps the doctrine of union
with Christ may be of such a copious and#
complex nature, as to justify in some meas-
ure the sentiment of each, who viewing the
subject in detached parts only, therefore
may conclude some things are opposite,
which are, in fact, only distinct. However,
so far as that may be the case with com-
mon Christians, an impartial survey, or re-
view of the subject, may have a concilia-
ting tendency; for which purpose it should
be considered, that union to Christ is of a
threefold nature, which may (for the sake
of keeping ideas distinct) be denominated,
visible, vital, and virtual.

First ; By visible, is intended a credible
profession of Christ, joined with an appa-
rent subjection to him, or an embracing his
gospel, and obeying his laws. Where
there appears love to Jesus, and subjection
to him as a Saviour, and a Sovereign, we
are bound to consider such per.sons as rela-
ted to him, and to love them accordingly.
The apostle, treating of the visible church
as in union with Christ, founded on profes-
sion, says. We being many, are one body in
Christ, and every one members one of an-
other. Rom. xii. 5. And speaking of the
churches of Judea, he adds, which were in
Christ. Gal. i. 22. To be therefore m the
church by a credible profession, was called
a being in Christ, as in 1 Cor. xii. 2. See
Gal. iii. 27; 1 Cor. xii. 13. Yet it is evi-
dent that the apostle did not account all
were true believers which were in Christ
by profession, though he was bound in char-
ity to hope thus of them all, till there was
evidence to the contrary. The inspired
penmen did not certainly know the gra-
cious state of the persons they addressed,
but had cheering hopes and distressing
fears, respecting those to whom they min-
istered. See Epist. to Gal. Even Jesus,
" who kneic what was in man," generally, as
a minister, addressed his own people by such
terms as were descriptive of gracious dis-
positions ; Matt. V. As many are in Christ
only by a profession, having a name to live,
and are dead, therefore there is a striking
propriety in the various ifs we meet with
in scripture, when promises and encour-
agements are treated of, which ifs do not
imply an uncertainty of a true believer's
future happiness ; but an uncertainty re-
specting who the persons are that have be-
lieved through grace. With what jealousy
does Paul speak of the Galatian churches,
and of many in that of Corinth ; and with
what caution does Peter mention one whom
he greatly valued, " Sylvanus, a faitliful
brother, as I suppose." 2 Pet. v. 12. The
visible kingdom of Christ is compared to a

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

net which encloseth divers kinds ; but the
Lord, who searcheth the heart, will take
care of the good, and cast the bad away.
Then many who were visibly in connection
with Christ, who ate and drank in his pres-
ence, who were the children of the kingdom,
and visible members of his body, the church,
will be cast out; so that those who are
found fruitless branches in Christ, will be
broken off, and burned with unquenchable
fire. Therefore it is granted that many
who are in Christ, in [this] sense, [i. e. visi-
bly,'} may notwithstanding lift up their eyes
in hell, being in torment.

Secondly; there is a vital union, or a
divine connection between Christ and his
people, which takes place at regeneration,
when the soul is made to hear the voice of
the Son of God and live; for the Son
quickeneth whom he will. Hence the apos-
tle says, " I live ; yet not I, but Christ which
liveth in me." To live imphes three things,
all which, in a spiritual sense, every true
Christian is the subject of, viz. sensation,

ANIMATION, PRESERVATION.

1. Sensation. They feel the burden of
guilt, and are sensible of the plague of their
own hearts. They are convinced of their
wants and weakness, and are conscious of
being in a condition both mean and misera-
ble. They see their own deformity and
Jehovah's beauty. Their ears are open to
receive instruction ; and the voice of God
in his word, whether terrific or tender^
makes deep and durable impressions on
their minds. They have a taste for the
things of religion, after which they hunger
and thirst. To them Christ is precious:
his name is an ointment poured forth, his
beauty is as the olive-tree, and his smell as
Lebanon ; yea, he is altogether lovely. All
their spiritiud sensations, whether painful
or pleasurable, are in consequence, of living
union with Jesus ; for prior to its commence-
ment they were dead in sin, and destitute
of every holy emotion and perception.

2. Animation. Christian activity is en-
tirely owing to Christ's aniviative influence.
Through his Spirit and all-sufficient grace,
they serve with pleasure, or suffer with pa-
tience ; they strive and war against sin, and
wrestle with principalities and powers, over
all which they are more than conquerors
through him who hath loved them. Yea,
they can do all things through Christ
strengthening them, and without him they
can do nothing.

3. Preservation. The principle of am-
mation ever discovers an inchnation to pre-
serve its connection with that which is ani-
mated by it: this is obvious not only in
rational life, but even in animal likewise.
So, Christ has always discovered an entire,
infinite inclination to keep and preserve his
people in connection with himself He

influences them to love, and labor for the
meat which perisheth not. He alarms their
fears that they may escape danger, and
strengthens their faith that they may lay
hold of eternal life, secures their love by
fresh discoveries of divine beauties, and the
suitableness of celestial objects to heaven-
born souls. Thus he draws them in the
paths of duty by the bands of love, and by
the cords of a man. He is the author of
their presei^ation, in such a way as to pre-
vent presumption, and secure their attention
to appointed means, which Divine wisdom
has connected with the desired end. He
says he never will leave them, but will be
with them always to the end of the world ;
and writes his law in their hearts, that they
might not finally depart from him. He
saves them, therefore, not contrary to their
inclination, but witla their /re e consent, and
fervent desire. He that is joined unto the
Lord is one spirit; 1 Cor. vi. 17. Between
Jesus and them, there is a oneness in per-
ception, affection, interest and end. As
they are precious to him, so he is precious
to them ; the chief among ten thousand,
and altogether lovely. His interest is theirs,
and theirs is his. He rejoiceth in (he pro.s-
perity of his people, and they esteem Jeru-
salem, i. e. his cause on earth, above their
chief joy ; his revealed designs correspond
with their real desires. The destruction of
sin and the perfection of purity they long
for. He gave his life for them, neither do
they count theirs too dear to sacrifice on his
behalf; their life therefore is in their hand,
ready to be delivered up at their Saviour's
call. They rejoice in Jesus on account of
his mediatorial obedience, not only as it is
their security from condemnation, but as it
does infinite honor to Heaven's righteous
law. What Christ has done, intentionally
centres, and will ultimately terminate, in
the vindication of God's moral government,
and the eternal display of Jehovah's essen-
tial perfections, in all their native beauty,
and infinite excellency, grandeur, and glory,
that God, to whom sinners have an aver-
sion, may appear and be acknowledged, not
only by angels, but by men, as all in all.
As influenced by grace, the true believer
says, " Oh, how I love thy law !" " I de-
light in the law of God after the inward
man." Jehovah he admires and adores;
and when he takes a solemn view of the
great Eternal, whose glory dazzles angelic
eyes, he is astonished, confounded, and lost.
in pleasing wonder. He sinks into profound
contempt of himself, and feels keen reflec-
tions on his criminal want of affection to,
and departures from a Being so infinitely
deserving the supreme love of men and
angels. But on the revival of hope, with
humble reverence, and holy rapture, he
sings, " The Lord is my portion, sartfi my

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

soul. He is my rock and fortress, and my
deliverer, my God, my strength, my buckler,
my sah'>atio7i, and my high tower. In his
presence is fulness of joy, iit his right hand
are pleasures forevcrniorc. Then shall I
be satisfied, when I awake in his likeness."
Though conscious of meanness and demerit,
his language now is, " Will he plead against
me with his great power ? No, but he will
put strength into nie." " 1 know whom I
nave believed. He hath said, My grace
shall be sufficient for thee, my strength is
made perfect in weakness. The Lord will
preserve me unto his heavenly kingdom, to
whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen."

As such souls freely give themselves
unto the Lord, so he receives them gra-
ciously, and rejoiceth in them as his spouse,
his property, and portion ; it is his will, and
their desire to be like him, and with him
for ever ; and for them to die is gain.
Therefore, though shoals of professors per-
ish, none who are possessors of his grace
ever shall. Their internal life is eternal in
its duration ; for thus saith the Lord, " I
give unto my sheep eternal life, and they
shall never perish, neither shall any pluck
them out of my hand." John x. 28. " He
that believeth on him is not condemned."
John iii. 18. " There is therefore now no
condemnation to them that are in Christ
Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after
the Spirit." Rom. viii. 1. As there is no
condemnation to such noao, there never
shall be any. " Verily, verily, I say unto
you, he that heareth my word and believeth,
shall not come into condemnation, but is
passed from death unto life. John v. 24.
Whoso believeth on him, shall not perish,
but have eternal life. John iii. 15, 16.
They shall never die ; though they were
dead, yet shall they live. John xi. 25.
Who shall separate them from the love of
Christ? Rom. viii. 35. Whose Spirit is
in them as a well of water springing up
into everlasting life. John iv. 14. He that
hath the Son hath life, and he that hath not
the Son of God hath not life." Those,
therefore, who are vitally united to Christ,
cannot lose their spiritual life while he
maintains his own ; for he hath said, " Be-
cause I live ye shall live also." Being
bought by his precious blood, and kept by
almighty power, they therefore may con-
clude with the Jipostle, " That when Christ,
who is their hfe, shall appear, they shall
also appear with him in glory."

There is, therefore, no real contradiction
in the declarations in scripture, though they
may to some appear opposite, respecting
the final state of those who are united to
Christ ; for salvation is not i)isepara,bly con-
nected with a visible, but with a vital union
to the Son of God. Those who perish
never were spiritually in Christ: he was

never the home of their hearts. They
never approved of him, nor he of them ;
therefore he will say to all that shall be
doomed to destruction, I never knew you.
Though they may have been among the
saints, yet such were never of them ; but
of a contrary character all the while. Hence
of apostates the apostle thus speaks:
" They went out from us, but they were
not of us, for if they had been of us, they
would no doubt have continued with us;
but they went out that they might be made
manifest, that they were not all of us, but
ye have an unction from the Holy One,^'*
&c. 1 John ii. 19, 20. Thus it appears,
that a visible and a vital union to Christ
are very distinct; and yet they are not
opposites, for a profession of Christ cannot
be deemed contrary to a possession of him.
Thirdly, Vital union is distinct from vir-
tual, though one is not contrary or opposite
to the other. By virtual union with Christ,
is intended a real connection subsisting be-
tween him and the elect of God considered
simply as such. That there was such a
connection antecedent to vital union, is evi-
dent from the following considerations.
They were chosen in Christ, and given to
him ; in covenant he represented them as a
federal head. He became a surety for
them, and on their behalf was made under
the law, in consequence of which there was
a legal connection of union established be-
tween him and them. The substitution of
his person under the law in their stead, was
the ground of the imputation of their sins
to him, and of his obedience for them.
What he did and endured, would have had
no efficacy in their favor, had they not been
personally interested in him. Their sins
could not have been done away by the sac-
rifice of himself", had he not given himself
for them in particular or died in their stead.
But as their kinsman-Redeemer, he ran-
somed them from death, and as the Head
of the church, he became the Saviour of
the body. Thus was he related to his cho-
sen, as their head of representation ; and,
as their surety, by his gracious engage-
ments and condescending substitution of his
person [to endure the penalties of the law]
in their place, and by his performing for
them what was required of them, he be-
came the Lord their riglitcousness, and by
his death he procured on their behalf an
eternal exemption from deserved punish-
ment, and a legal title to everlasting bliss.
In consequence of this union, the elect were
intrusted to his care, and were preserved
in Christ Jesus, and, therefore, called to be
saints. By virtue of the aforesaid connec-
tion, they are said to be his sheep, whom he
must bring ; for of all that the Father hath
given him, he will lose none : and from
thence ariseth the propriety of the apostle'a

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

language in Eph. ii. 4, 6 : " God who is rich
in mercy, for his great love wherewith he
loved us, even wlien we were dead, in eins,
hath quickened us together with Christ, and
hath raised us up together, and made us
sit together in heavenly places in Christ
Jesus." Now as this virtual union does not
supersede vital, or render it unnecessary,
hut is the secret source trom whence it flows,
why then should the godly quarrel one with
another about what is so evidently consist-
ent? Though yn«^ be only found in the
branches, yet the root is surely not unprofit-
able, seeing from thence the sap of the tree
proceeds. According to this simile we may
observe, what the scripture calls bringing
forth fruit unto God, can only be expected
among professors of religion, who are in
Christ as visible branches. But even
amongst them, will no fruit be found with-
out sap or living nourisliment ; and there
can be no vital nourishment, but in conse-
quence of union with the root. As none
ever imagine there is no connection between
the root and branches of a tree till blossoms
appear, why then should any think there is
no connection between Christ the root of
the righteous, and his people, before the
appearance of grace 1 It is owing to the
appearance of gracious dispositions, that a
relation to Christ is discovered, or claimable
by any person whatever ; nevertheless, the
union or relation in the last sense in which
we have been speaking, does not then com-
mence. If there was no previou^s secret
connection with Christ, from whence did
grace proceed to the soul 1 It must have a
source or original cause. The apostle ob-
serves all spiritual blessings were given us
in Christ. Eph. i. 3. If Christ was intrust-
ed with all spiritual blessings to communi-
cate to his people, then no spiritual blessing
is ever possessed, but what flows from him
and if so, there must be a prior connection
with him. Believers have reason gratefully
to acknowledge that they all have received
out of hie fulness, grace for grace. John i.
16. To the hesitating soul we would re-
commend a close consideration of the apos-
tle's query ; " What hast thou, that thou
didst not receive." 1 Cor. iv. 7.

The doctrine of union between Christ
and his church is of a nature so copious,
that no one metaphor can properly repre-
sent it ; therefore in the scriptures we meet
with various similitudes, tending to illustrate
the important subject. Christ is frequently
compared to a foundation, on which his
people are built; but that conveying only

represented: to supply this defect, Christ
and his people are farther illustrated by the
union subsisting between head and mem-
bers. But though the idea of activity is
thereby conveyed, there is still a material
defect, for tlie relation between these is
quite involuntary. Had it been otherwise,
the head might possibly have chosen better
feet, or better hands; and had theyhe&xv
the subject of distinct volition, they would,
probably, have chosen to have been in union
with a better head : therefore to supply the
deficiency of the above simile, and to include
the idea of mutual choice and social en-
dearments, Christ and his church are com-
pared to husband and wife. If then we
are in such near and close connection with
the blessed Jesus, as the scriptures assert,
and, by so many significant simihtudes, il-
lustrate his own people to be, let us fre-
quently think of, and bless God for, that
sovereign and inseparable love which con-
stituted the relation. It is all of God, as is
devoutly acknowledged by that sweet singer
in our British Israel, the late Dr. Watts,
who of the Father's love and choice thus
speaks :

' Christ be my first elect, he said,
Then chose our souls in Christ our Head ;
Nor shall our souls be thence remov'd,
Till he forgets his first belov'd."

CHAPTER V.

Relation to God.

As there are unhappy differences among
the professors of religion about union to
Christ, so in like manner they are subject
to cast stumbling-blocks in each other's
way respecting relation to God.

For the removal of these, and the pur-
pose of reconciliation, let us consider on
what, relation to God is founded. That re-
lation in which God's people stand unto
himself, distinct from others, according to
the scripture, arises from adoption and re-
generation. Adoption is a taking those in-
to the relation of sons, and treating them
as such, who are not so by nature. Now
God's people were all by nature aliens ;
but, by adopting grace, [they] were by
him considered as his children. Again,
His people are all his children by birth ;
being born again, they possess or partake
of his nature, as it consists in righteous-
ness and true holiness, and so bear his

the idea of support, therefore he is compar- image. Adoption constitutes relation, but
ed to a root, by which the idea of «i^Mettce does not convey likeness of nature; but regen-
is likewise illustrated. But though branches eration does both. Adoption is before or ante-
are influenced, and rendered fruitful, in cedent to regeneration, for there is no propri-
consequence of conveyed nourishment, yet ety in supposing those are made sons by adop-
Christian activity is not thereby properly ' tion Avho are so by birth. No man ever

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

adopted his own son ; those who are sons
by nature, need not to be made sons by
adoption. Though the persons who are re-
generated were adopted, yet they were not
adopted as regenerate, but when they were
in a state oi" ahenation from God. In which
state all men are by nature, as the descend-
ants of an apostate head. Adoption is
therefore the taking those into the relation
of children, who are not so by nature, or
reckoning, or accounting those sons, who
arc not, [as yet, such] by regeneration.
Relation by adoption is, therefore, quite
distinct from sonship arising from regenera-
tion, or a being generated, and born anew ;
and accordingly we find it treated of as a
separate subject in the word of God. Adop-
tion is an act of God's sovereign will ac-
cording to Eph. i. 5, 6. " Having predes-
tinated us unto the adoption of children by
Jesus Christ to himself, according to the
good pleassure of his will, to the praise and
glory of his grace, wherein he hath made
us accepted in the beloved." Regenera-
tion is the work of his power, it is a man-
ifest change of soul produced by his Holy
Spirit. "Not by works of righteousness
which we have done, but according to his
mercy he saved us by the washing of regen-
eration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost."
Tit. iii. 5. The people of God, considered
as children by adoption, were the subjects
of redemption. Being, through sin, in a
state of distance and dreadful captivity,
Christ gave his life a ransom lor them.
" He died, the just for the unjust, that he
might bring them to God." Hence those who
were sometime afar off are made nigh by
the blood of his Son. It was therefore ex-
pedient that Christ should die for the peo-
ple, and gather together in one the children
of God that were scattered abroad. John
xi. 50, 52. For it became him for whom
are all things, and by whom are all things,
in bringing many sons unto glory, to make
the captain of iheir salvation perfect through
sutTcrings. Heb. ii. 10. They were not
redeemed, considered as saints, but as sin-
ners ; not redeemed as children, by regen-
eration, but as sons by adoption ; and of
them, as such, Christ will at last say
" Father, here am I and the children which
thou hast given me." The application of
redeeming love, and the possession of the
Redeemer's purchase is not enjoyed nor
by them desired till renewed in the spirit
of their minds ; but being God's adopted
sons, therefore in his account they were en-
titled to them ; and because they were sons,
the Spirit of Christ is sent into their hearts,
crying, Abba, Father. It is owing to the
Spirit of adoption, or the Holy Ghost, bear-
ing witness to their relationship as the chil-
dren of God, that they are delivered from
that bondage and fear which would other-

wise overwhelm them, in consequence of
a sight and sense of criminal distance from
God, and unlikeness to him. Rom. viii.
15, 17. The bodies of God's people were
included in the act of adoption, and with
their souls were given to Christ, and bought
by him; "Ye are bought with a price,
wherefore glorify God in your bodies, —
which are his. But though the members
of the body are instruments of righteous-
ness unto holiness, in consequence of a per-
son being renewed in the spirit of his mind,
yet while in this life the bodies of the saints
have no peculiar marks of divine sonship,
but are subject to vanity, bondage, and
corruption. The privileges of adoption,
therefore, as relating to them, will not be
enjoyed till the resurrection, for the bodies
of all men through sin are the seat of mis-
ery; and not only bodies in general, but
ourselves also, which have the first fruits
of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan with-
in ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to
wit, the redemption of the body." Rom.
viii. 23. Sonship by adoption is not con-
trary to, nor does it render relationship to
God by regeneration, unnecessary ; there
is as much need of a meetness for heaven
as of a title to it. In order to consummate
happiness, it is as necessary to have a dis-
position, or taste, for pure and refined pleas-
ure, as it is to be delivered from pain.
Therefore, except a man be born again, he
cannot enter into the kingdom of God, he can-
not see it in its nature, beauty, and spiritual
glory, for the natural man perceiveth not the
things of the Spirit of God, neither can he
know them, because they are spiritually dis-
cerned. Hence (says Christ) ye must be
born again. The doctrine of adoption is sup-
porting to the beUever's hope, even when
he loathes and bemoans himself on tlie ac-
count of transgressions, for the very name
Jesus (a Saviour) was given to Immanuel,
because he should save his people from
their sins. Matt. i. 21. But considered as
born again, they are not denominated sin-
ners, but saints, for he that is born of God
sinneth not. Sin is not his occupation.
By adoption God's people were in a point
of relation made near him, as respecting
their persons. By regeneration tliey be-
come followers of liim as dear children,
through their being the subjects of gracious
principles and holy dispositions.

To conclude; as sonship amongst men
arises from adoption and likewise from nat-
ural descent or generation ; the Lord, there-
fore, more fully to express his love to his
people, and the ground of their claim or
title to heavenly things, has been pleased
to discover himself as their Father under
both considerations ; which if properly at-
tended to by the household of^ faith, their
diflferences would in some measure subside,

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

and their diiRculties in some degree dimin- 1 First : It supposes the party to have been
ish; for according to the scriptural account justly injured [or offended] to whom satis-

of relation to God, they are most certainly
right who say, that by regeneration or
heavenly birth the people of God are de-
nominated sons in a proper sense, and in
which sense they were not his children be-
fore, for we are all the children of God by
faith in Christ Jesus ; and if any man have
not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his.
But those who heartily subscribe to this
truth, may surely, without offence, be allow-
ed to say, that by adoption they were con-
stituted sons before believing ; for none are
denominated believers till born of God,
and it would be absurd to suppose they
were not till then adopted. Equally absurd
as to suppose Adam adopted Abel, or that
it is necessary for his majesty to adopt the
prince of Wales. When the scriptures
treat only of men's relation to God, it is
then attributed to adoption ; or the gracious
act of Jehovah's will towards them ; which
does not imply, but is distinct from, his

gowerful influences in and upon them,
iut when likeness and relation to God are
jointly considered, an heavenly birth is then
intended or included. For the Holy Spir-
it's operations in the souls of men are illus'
trated by natural generation ; because such
are thereby made partakers of the Divine
image, as it consisteth in righteousness and
true holiness. The consideration of these
things, it is hoped, may tend to reconcile
the minds of some of the people of God,
and prevent their falling out by the way.

CHAPTER VL

7%e Doctrine of Atonement.

This important truth is attended with
divers difficulties, which are perplexing to
weak Christians, the removal of which calls
for serious attention to its nature and ne-
cessity. Atonemetit signifies reconciliation,
or appeasing of anger ; to atone is to har-
monize or bring parties to an agreement
that were at variance, or to remove that
distance and disaffection which have sub-
sisted between parties offended, so as to be
at one again, or brought into a state of
friendship, amity, and good will. The
atonement under present considration, is
tliat by, or on the account of, which God k
pacified towards, or pardons the sins of his
people. Various ideas are included in the
term, as used in scripture, but they are all
of a kindred nature, and adhere to the im-
portant doctrine, as their central point,
tending to explain its natural origin and
efficacy. In order to obtain a distinct view
of the subject, it may be proper to observe,

faction is due. This was in fact the case
in respect of God. Men, all men, are be-
come enemies to him without any reason
which can possibly exculpate them from
blame. His law, which men have broken,
was in every respect reasonable and right.
His authority, though indisputably the high-
est and best founded, is treated by man
with the greatest contempt. The moral
beauty and excellency of God is become
disgustful to his rebellious creatures. As
Jehovah is the first, the best, and most
worthy of all beings, it is fit he should value
and esteem his own glory in proportion to
its worth, which is infinitely more excellent
and more dear to him than all creatures in
heaven and earth. But man has set up
his own honor and happiness in opposition
to God's and (as it were) deifies himself,
and debases Jehovah, to whom he pays no
further regard than he apprehends will ter-
minate in his own advantage. God's an-
ger is righteous displeasure, for men have
hated him without a cause ; there was noth-
ing in his nature, character, or commands,
with which men could be justly displeased.
God never did any thing to provoke his
creatures to revolt; if he had, he would
have been under obhgation to have made
satisfaction to man for the injury done him,
in order to an honorable reconciliation, that
man might be just, and the justifier of God,
which is shocking to suppose : therefore,

Secondly : The atonement supposes the
offending party, man, to have been justly
deserving punishment, and exposed to mis-
ery. If he was not exposed to misery,
there could have been no need of the ex-
ercise of mercy ; and if he was the real
offender, something was needful to atone
for the offence, in order to a restoration
of friendship between him and his Creator.
There is a prevalent conviction attending
guilt, of the necessity of something to rec-
ommend to and pacify offended Deity. It
is not against atonement that men are nat-
urally prejudiced ; but it is only that of
God's providing to which they have an en-
mity and aversion. " Wherewith shall I
come before the Lord, and bow myself be-
fore the most high God ?" is the common
and grand inquiry of a guilty mind. It is
not a bowing before him, either in a way
of submission, confession, supplication, or
obedience, that will satisfy for past offences,
but something that has worth and efficacy
to atone for the sin of the soul, in order to
an acceptable coming to, and bowing be-
fore the most high God : therefore, " thou-
sands of rams, ten thousand of rivers of
oil," and even " the first-born of the body,"
is thought of for the purpose of pleasing
an offended God. " He hath shown thee,

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

Oman!" (in his word,) "what is good"
for the pacification of Divine justice, and
what he requires of thee, as a grateful re-
turn for the inestimable favor. Mic. vi. 6,
7, 8. Not all created good (was it at the
sinner's disposal) could compensate (or the
injury done to Jehovah's righteous law and
equitable government, because it bears no
proportion to an infinite evil ; therefore, the
wisdom of men and angels could never have
pointed out a method for the exercise of
mercy, consistent with the natural rights of
justice and truth. But God, through infi-
nite wisdom and sovereign love, has made
a gracious proclamation in lavor of crimi-
naf man, saying, " Deliver his soul from
going down to the pit, I have found a ran-
som" or an atonement : this was entirely
a new procedure, the eflect of a new and
well-orilered covenant, according to his eter-
nal purpose, Avhich he purposed in Christ
Jesus our Lord. There was nothing in
God's law, nothing in the original constitu-
tion of things, nor any known property in
Deity, from -whence it could be inlerred,
that mercy would ever be shown to man,
or friendship be restored between him and
his justly offended Sovereign. The gra-
cious intention was hid in God. Eph. iii.
9. Yea, had an intimation been given of
the kind design, fhe nature of atonement is
such that created wisdom could never have
guessed how. or by wliom it could be ac-
complished. For,

1. The person undertaking to atone,
must have been able to ofler to God that
which was infinite in its worth and value.

2. [He must have the nature of those
whom his atonement is to benefit ; i. e. he
must] be man, capable of obeying the law,
and bearing its tremendous curse; [and
this] without personal and perpetual des-
truction.

3. He who atones for another's crimes
must himself be innocent, otherwise an
atonement would be needtid on his own ac-
count; and therefore, "whatever he might
do or endure for the purpose of reconcilia-
tion, could not properly be imputed to, or
benefit any other guilty person. But among
men, where could perfect innocence be found,
seeing the whole Avorld is become guilty
before God? But supposing such a one
could have been found, an atonement would
not have appeared ]X>ssible, because,

4. Equity cannot allow an innocent per-
son to suffer punishment. It is contrary to
the natural rule of right ; penal suffering
cannot be inflicted but in consequence of
guilt : therefore he that justifieth the wick
ed, and he that condenmeth the just, even
they are both an abomination to the Lord.
Prov. xvii. 15. And shall not the Judge of
all the earth do right? It is not possible hi
should do that which is abhorrent to his na-

ture, and abominable in his sight ; there-
fore, as a God of equity he carmot clear
tlie guilty, nor punish the innocent. Again,

5. He who is supposed to endure vica-
rious punishment, or suffer in the room and
stead of another, must stand in such prior
relation to or union with him, on whose be-
half he is punished, as is necessary to sup-
port the delinquent'.s claim to an equitable
discharge. But where could such a friend
be found, standing judicially related to mis-
erable man, to act as his surety, or as a
day's-man between him and his God, and
lay his hand upon them both ? Job ix. 33.
xvii. 3. But on a supposition such a liiend
could have been pointed out, who was al-
lowedly one in law with the sinner, yet he
could not die, or .suffer in his stead, though
even desirous of it, because,

6. No creature has power or authority over
his own life, to lay it down when he pleases,
nor even to sufler mutilation on behalf of'
his dearest friend ; for his life and his limbs
are at the sole and only disposal of God,
in whom we all live and move, and from
whom Ave have our being.

From the above, and similar considera-
tions, it appears, that the nature of sin, and
the condition of men, were such as totally
to preclude every ray of hope, yea, every
idea of the possibility of an atonement be-
ing made, or a reconciliation accomplished.
But in the glorious gospel, God has opened
a door of hope for lost sinners. He has
graciously provided and revealed a meth-
od of salvation, which finite wisdom could
never have deemed possible, a contrivance
wherein he hath abounded towards us in
all wisdom and prudence. Eph. i. 8. For
every difficulty vanishes when the glorious
Immanuel is viewed as the atoning priest
and bleeding victim. Here is infinite wortii,
value and virtue, infinite ability to obey the
precepts of the law, and endure its awful
penalty, without sustaining the loss of final
felicity. He was holy, harmless and sep-
arate from sinners. But that he might le-
gally suffer, the just for the unjust, he who
knew no sin was made sin for vis. The
Lord laid on him the iniquity of us all,
which he bore in his own body on the tree,
when he made his sovd an offering for sin.
Thus, through imputation, he was number-
ed with transgressors, and bore the sins of
many, which he put away by the sacrifice
of himself What he did and endured in
the room and stead of his people, was right-
eously placed to their account. He being
graciously substituted in their stead, being
their surety, made under the law, that he
might redeem them from the curse of the
law, being made a curse for them. He,
therefore, kmdiy gave his life a ransom for
his people, for he had authority and power
to lay down his life, and power to take it

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

up again. This commandment, says he,
I received of my Father. His propitiatory
death was according to the determinate
counsel and foreknowledge of God, and
agreeable to the everlasting covenant, and
therefore with his full approbation and free
consent ; for the counsel of peace was be-
tween them both, (which will ever contin-
ue,) and his dehghts were with the sons of
men.

Christ's atonement was illustrated by the
various atonements under the law, [and was
the central point of them.] The respect-
ive victims were without blemish; were
the property of the persons on whose ac-
count they were to be offered ; the crimes
they were designed to expiate and atone
for, were first solemnly confessed over them,
and then as having sin placed on or trans-
ferred to them, they were offered up as the
sinner's substitute, in consequence of which
temporary forgiveness was obtained ; for
these were only shadows of good things to
come, and were offered year by year con-
tinually, but could never make the comers
thereunto perfect, or take away sin as per-
taining to the conscience. The law could
make nothing perfect, but the bringing in
of a better hope did : see Heb. x. Atone-
ment is a declaration of divine righteous-
ness, and a vindication of Jehovah's just-
ice in condemning and punishing for sin ;
therefore the act of Phineas, in taking ven-
geance in behalf of God on daring offend-
•ers, is called an atonement for the congre-
gation. Atonement is designed as a cover-
ing of the guilty soul ; thereby iheir iniqui-
ties are covered, and their transgressions
are forgiven. When the congregation was
numbered, it was enjoined on every man to
give to the Lord a ransom for his soul ; the
rich were not to give more than half a
shekel,* nor tlie poor less ; which was call-
ed atonement money, as thereby atone-
ment was made for their souls. In conse-
quence of which price, they were covered
from the plague to whic-h they were liable.
See Exod. xxx. 12, 16. So Jesus gave
himself a ransom for many : his people were
bought with a price, not with silver or gold,
but with the precious blood of the Son of
God, in whom we have redemption, even
the forgiveness of sins. By the blessed
Jesus, the purity of God's law was fully ap-
proved and eternally preserved, its righteous
claims established and fully confirmed ; its
tremendous curse was by him endured, and
"his people exempted from wrath to come.
In him mercy and truth are met together,
righteousness and peace have kissed each
other. He is the true antitype of the mer-
•cy-seat, whom God hath set forth to be a

A little over twenty-five cents, and so within the
■compass of the poor

Vol. 3,— K.

propitiation through faith in his blood. The
seat of mercy, where Deity appeared pro-
pitious, was the cover of, and supported by
the ark, which contained and preserved the
holy law which men had violated, denoting
that the glory of God's righteous govern-
ment must be secured before pardoning
mercy could be discovered. To deny the
glory and equity of God's law, by which
sinners are condemned, antecedent to the
gospel, is to undermine the foundation of
mercy, and destroy the pillars which sup-
port the throne of rich, reigning grace.
The blood of atonement, sprinkled annu-
ally on the mercy-seat by the high priest,
was an acknowledgment of Israel's guilt,
and Jehovah's just authority ; and likewise
of their absolute dependence on his volun-
tary mercy, richly dispensed and gloriously
displayed, consistent with his infinite hatred
to sin and inflexible regard to impartial just-
ice and punitive equity.

Some represent tlie atonement of Christ
as unnecessary in order to the pardon of
sin, the remission of which is, by them,
considered as an act of divine clemency,
without respect had to any merit attending
the sufferings of Christ in the stead of those
whose transgressions are forgiven. By this
many have been perplexed, seeing such a
representation and view of things evident-
ly tends to lessen the odious nature of sin,
tarnish the lustre of Jehovah's character,
and diminish the believer's obligation to
Jesus. We therefore shall consider,

1. It is undeniable that a consciousness
of sin is attended with a fear of punish-
ment in those who are not favored with a
divine revelation. Hence the apostle, speak-
ing of the heathen world, says, " Who
knowing the judgment of God, that they
which commit such things are worthy of
death." Rom. i. 32. But if punishment
be not necessarily connected with trans-
gression, how could the dread of suffisring,
and a conviction of the righteousness of
God in taking vengeance, be so deeply en-
graven on the hearts of those who did not
know the will and determination of God,
except as inferred from the natural obliga-
tion his creatures are under to glorify him
as their Creator ? No creature can possi-
bly know what originates in, or is depend-
ent upon, the sovereign will of God, with-
out a divine revelation, but as the punish-
ment of sin can be known where a revela-
tion is not [possessed,] therefore the pun-
ishment of sin arises not from divine sove-
reignty, but from the essential purity, dig-
nity and rectitude of Jehovah's nature : [and
hence] there was a necessity for Christ, as
the surety, to endure the penalty, in order
to his people's enjoying a pardon ; for sin
is so abominable in God's sight, so contra-
ry to his pure nature, that jjunislimejit i'of

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

it cannot be dispensed with ; a sinner, as
such, cannot be safe. Hence there was a
necessity for Jesus the Saviour to put away
sin, by the sacrifice of himself, to endure
the curse, that his people might be exempt-
ed from sin's demerit, enjoy heavenly bless-
ings, and wear the celestial crown.

2. Through the sufferings of Christ the
essential righteousness of God is discover-
ed, and his equity in acquitting the believer
is thereby evidenced, and on that basis eter-
nally established. It is Jesus Christ as a
Redeemer, " whom God hath set forth to
be a propitiation through faith in his blood,
to declare his righteousness lor the remis-
sion of sins that are past," (i. e. the sins of
the Old Testament saints,; "through the
forbearance of God : to declare, I say, at
this time, his righteousness, that he might
be just and the justifier of him that believeth
in Jesus." Rom. iii. 25, 26. If God could
with equity have pardoned sin, and justified
criminals by an act of sovereign clemency,
without an atonement, the death of Jesus did
not render the sinner's acquittal just and right-
eous, which the apostle asserts. But as
the equity of God in justifying the ungodly,
depends upon the Saviour's sufferings,
therefore without his sufferings there could
have been no pardon of sin granted; for
" all his ways are judgment, a God of truth,
and without iniquity, just and right is he."
Deut. xxxii. 4. When we say, God could
not pardon sin without an atonement, or
that "without shedding of blood there is
no remission," a limitation of Jehovah's
power is not intended, nor is it from thence
inferrable ; for pardon and justification are
not productions of Divine power, but are
acts of his will. Besides, God cannot do
■what is improper. He cannot lie, he can-
not deny himself; and of iniquity he says,
" I cannot away with it ;" not owing to a
deficiency in power, but the perfection of
his purity and rectitude of his nature.

3. God's gift of his Son to die for us, is
always, in scripture, admired as the great
est and most astonishing instance of his love
to sinners, and considered as a blessing su-
perior to any other conferred on his people
Hence the apostle infers:, " if God spared
not his own Son, but delivered him up for
lis all, how shall he not, with him, freely
give us all things?" Rom. viii. 32. But
if sinners could liave been made happy
without Jesus, if there was no real necessi-
ty for his death, the gift of Christ, by such
an awful supposition, is diminished in its
value, and the favor sinks into the number
of non-essentials in point of salvation and
eternal felicity.

4. If Divine justice could have dispens-
ed with the punishment of sin, Christ was
60 precious to his righteous Father, and so
entirely loved by him. that it is natural to

suppose he would have been spared ; those
agonizing sorrows and excruciating pains,
under which he groaned and died, would
not have been, without necessity, inflicted
upon the darling of heaven. But as eio
was placed to his account, it pleased the
Father to bruise him, and put him to grief;
though he pleaded to have the cup remov-
ed if possible, yet he spared him not. Now
as in every other thing the Father heard
him always, may we not from thence con-
clude, it was impossible for the connection
between sin and suffering to be broken ?
Who can attend to the tremendous lan-
guage of a sin-avenging God, saying,
" Awake, O sword, against the man that is
my fellow," smite him ; or seriously reflect
on the doleful groans and bloody sufferings
of the Son of God, in the garden, and on
the cross ; and calmly conclude there was
no necessity for any thing of that nature.

5. Those who are redeemed from sin,
and reign with God in heavenly pomp and
holy splendor, ascribe their deliverance and
advancement to the kindness of Clirist, and
the efficacy of his sufferings ; for with tri-
umphant pleasure and gratitude they sing,
" Unto him that loved us, and washed us
from our sins in his own blood, and hatli
made us kings and priests unto God and
his Father, to him be glory and dominion
for ever and ever. Amen." Rev. i. 5, 6-
But how does the propriety of such ac-
knowledgments appear, if what Jesus did
was not at all necessary to their deliver-
ance from sin and advancement to dignity
and delight? From the above considera-
tions it appears, there was a necessity for
Jesus to die, the just for the unjust, that he
might bring them to God.

Some again admit the death of Christ
was necessary, in order to the forgiveness
of sins, yet deny him the honor of properly
meriting for his people an exemption from
punishment, and assert that the efficacy of
his snfferiiigs as a sacTifce arose entirely
from the will and appointment of God.
That he became a mediator, surety, and
sacrifice on behalf of his people, in conse-
quence of Divine appointment, is undoubt-
edly evident ; but that his vahie and worthy
efficacy and merit, arose from thence, can
never be proved. God graciously provided
and found the ransom, on which account
pardon, justification, and the whole of sal-
vation is all of grace ; free exuberant grace,
and rich mercy. That a person of such
infinite worth and dignity as Immanuel,
God's own and only begotten Son, should
die for sinners, is an unparalleled instance
of favor and love. It is the wonder of an-
gels the terror of devils, and the joy and
triumph of saints. But it is absurd to sup-
pose his personal dignity arose from his de-
basement, that he became strong, because

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS,

help was laid upon him, or that his real
worth arose from his appointment to ran-
som miserable captives, and discharge the
debt of prodigal transgressors. Christ
was appointed, and agreed in covenant to
do and suffer what he was under no natural
obligation to perform or endure ; and from
his native dignity, worth, and ability, arose
his merit and efficacy. To suppose God
appointed his death to be efficacious with-
out real efficacy, or meritorious without
personal merit, is a contradiction in terras,
an awful reflection on the Divine under-
standing, and an affront to common sense.
Again, if God accepted of the death of Je-
sus as meritorious, though it was not so in
its own nature, then might he have pardon-
ed sins by a simple act of sovereign clem-
ency, without the death of his Son ; for it
would surely have been equally just to have
pardoned sin without a sacrifice, as to re-
mit sin in consequence of that which is, in
its nature, destitute of merit and efficacy.
Once more, if merit and real efficacy arise
only from the Divine appointment, it would
have been possible for the blood of bulls
and of goats to have taken away sin, or any
other animal would have been sufficient for
the removal of guilt and saving lost sinners,
if God had been pleased to have appointed
such an end to have been answered by
their death. But the direct contrary to the
above is asserted by one who well under-
stood and dehghted in the doctrine of re-
conciliation. His words are : " For it is
not impossible that the blood of bulls and
of goats should take away sins ;" Heb. x.
4, " which sacrifices can never take away
sins ;" verse 1 1. " It was necessary that the
patterns of things in the heavens should be
purified with these, but the heavenly things
themselves with better sacrifices than these.
But now once in the end of the world hath
he (Christ) appeared, to put away sin by
the sacrifice of himself;" chap. ix. 23, 26.
" He hath made peace by the blood of^ his
cross," Heb. ix. 12 ; " having obtained eter-
nal redemption for us, " " made an end of
«in, made reconciliation for iniquity, and
brought in an everlasting righteousness,"
" with which the Lord is well pleased ;"
Dan. ix. 24. Isaiah, xlii. 2L Therefore to
every believer Jehovah says, " Fury is not
in me." Isaiah xxvii. 4.

It is hoped the above remarks may help
the entangled Christian over the objections
made against the necessity, merit, and effi-
cacy of the Saviour's death, as an atoning
sacrifice for sin, and tend to increase his
knowledge of, faith in, and love to the
blessed Jesus, as able to save to the utter-
most all that come unto God by him. I
should therefore add no more on the sub-
iect, were it not for another stumbling-block
lately thrown in the way of believers, equal-

ly, if not more formidable in appearance
than the above : Which is, if Christ was a
Divine person, he could not atone for sin,
because Deity could not die.

This artful objection seems intended to
draw the unwary Christian into a dreadful
dilemma, either to give up the soul-support-
ing doctrine of the atonement, or to deny
the divinity of the Son of God. The ob-
jection is the more dangerous, as it seems
to look on the doctrine of atonement with a
smiling, approving countenance. But in
fact the design of it is to undermine the
real personal merit of Christ, and place the
efficacy of his blood to the account of God's
appointment, as mentioned above. The
evident, though disguised intention of the
objection and language is plainly this:
" Sinners, you must be content with a finite
creature Saviour, or none at all. If Christ
be God, he is too great to do you any es-
sential service as a Saviour, because Deity
cannot die. Therefore do not think sin is
infinitely odious and hateful to God. It
does not demerit infinite displeasure and
punishment. If it did, there could be no
infinite satisfaction made to God ; for even
supposing Christ to be Divine, his sacrifice
could not be of infinite value, because as a
Divine person he could not die." Let us
calmly consider this formidable objection,
and seriously attend to the supposed dread-
ful dilemma, in which will be found more
artful sophistry, than argument and solid
sense.

Death always implies a separation or a*^
loss of that wherein life consisted. Death,
in the sense we are now called to consider
it, is a separation of the principle of sensa-
tion and influence ; thus it is said, " The
body without the spirit is dead." Without
the soul it is in a state of total inactivity,
incapable of voluntary motion, and divested
of all sensation. Now though the body
only be the subject of death, considered as
a state of inactivity and insensibility^ yet
the man is said to be dead, when soul and
body, the constituent parts of humanity, are
separated, although the soul or spirit, dis-
tinctly considered from the body, is not the
subject of death. A spirit cannot die, be-
cause it is of a simple or uncompounded
nature. There is no part of a soul, from
whence another part of itself can be sepa-
rated or divided. If a soul can be so sepa-
rated, consciousness either does, or does
not, continue in each separated part. If
each part remain conscious, then are they
two souls, or two conscious subsistences.
If one separated part of the soul remain
unconscious, or in a state of insensibility,
wherein does that supposed unconscious
part differ from matter 1 A created spirit
might cease to exist, if God so determined ;
but die it cannot. Annihilation is not death.

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

What is annihilated has no existence, but
what is dead exists, however its form be
changed. There is therefore no force in
the objection, Deity cannot die ; for as no
spirit can die, it might as pertinently be
objected, if Christ had a soul he could not
atone for sin, because a soul cannot die.
But the death of a spirit cannot be suppos-
ed ; in that case, death is not predicable ;
yet a man being composed of body and
spirit, is with propriety said to be dead,
when matter and mind, those constituent
parts ol" humanity, are separated. Dead
saints are therefore said to " rest in their
beds," in respect of tlieir bodies: yet in
reference to their souls, " each one is walk-
ing in his uprightness." Death is therefore
called a departure. " The time of my de-
parture is at hand." Now as the Divine
and human Spirit of our Immanuel ceased
to animate his body, the person of the Me-
diator may as properly be said to have been
dead, as the person of Samuel, David, or
any other. It may be necessary to observe,
that death does not dissolve the relation
between the body and spirit, but death con-
sists in a total cessation of vital influence,
or a removal from the body, for a period, of
the principle of sensation and animation.
But the relative union still continuing, there-
fore the spirits of martyrs are represented

the Divine nature, as one person. By vir-
tue of which union, his blood is divinely
precious, and called the blood of God : like
as the spirits under the altar call the blood
with which tiiey sealed their testimony for
God, when in the body, our blood* May
the Lord the Spirit bless these attempts to
remove the stumbling-blocks out of the way
of serious inquirers after the truth as it is in
Jesus.

PART II

EXPERIMENTAL
TIES.

DIFFICUL-

CHAPTER L

A Sinner's Warrant to Apply to Christ,

Stumbling-blocks relating to Christiai*
Experience are various; and what gene-
rally appears first in view is, respecting
what right or warrant an undone sinner
hath to apply to Jesus as a Saviour. It ia
as concerned about, and longing for their I common for those v/ho are convinced of sin,

bodies, which were killed for the cause of
Christ on earth, and at the resurrection
every soul will have its own body. As
through the separation of body and soul,
and the relation between them being undis-
solved, the man is properly dead, and yet
the soul not changed in its natural powers ;
so, in like manner, and for the same reason,
it appears the person of the Mediator was
really dead for a time, his precious body
not being animated by, though related to,
his human and Divine spirit. Yet his death
does not imply or suppose the least change
or mutability in its Divine nature, nor any
alteration in the powers and properties of
his soul. Agreeably to the above view of
things we are told, that when the beloved
disciple saw his Lord in transcendent splen-
dor and majestic glory, and fell at his feet
as dead, the reviving and compassionate
language of Jesus was, " Fear not, I am
the first and the last, he that liveth and was
dead, and behold I live for evennore, amen ;
and have the keys of hell and death."
Rev. i. 17, 18. That he, the first and the
last was dead, is again repeated in the
solemn message sent to the church at Smyr
na. Rev. ii. 8. Thus it appears that there
is no force at all in the objection aforesaid ;
for instead of Christ's divinity rendering
him incapable of atoning for sin, the infinite
virtue and value attending the sufferings
of his humajiity arose from its union with

and see the need of salvation, to look for
some good thing in them, as the ground of
encouragement for their applying to and
closing with the blessed Jesus. But find-
ing themselves altogether vile, sinful, and
unworthy, they apprehend it would be dar-
ing presumption in their present condition
to trust in, or apply to him for salvation.
The stumbling-block, in this case, seems to
arise from a mistaken apprehension, ac-
counting that which supports a person'&

' To elucidate the above subject, and render it plain
to young Christians, it may not be amiss to observe the
following easy illustrative gradations. There is a value
or worth attending simple matter considered as the pro-
duction of God, who made every tiling good, yea, very
good ; yet animated matter is superior to what is not so,
though it were an inferior form ; otherwise a living dog
would not be better than a dead lion, nor the body of a
man preferable to a bag of sand. Animated bodies arise
in value and re.spect, in proportion to the natural superi-
ority of the spirits by which they are governed and influ-
enced; though the body of a sparrow i.s the subject of
animation as much as llie body of a man, yet a human
body is of more value than many sparrows. Again, the
importance of actions through the medium of matter
arises from the volitions and influence of the spirit by
which they are performed ; were it not so, the action of
a man would not excel those of a monkey. Moreover,
in regard to human nature, there is a great disproportion
in real worth, arising from internal qualities, or externat
dignity ; for scarcely for a righteous man will one die,
yet peradvcnture for a good man, some would even dare
to die. Hence David's adherents said, Thou art worlk
ten tliousand vfus. How infinitely precious and worthy
then was the Divine .lesus, in whomdweltall the fulness
of the Godhead bodily. May every believer's heart
glow with love to him, and gratitude for him, and say,
with unfeigned lips, " Thanhs be to God for his imspeaJcr-
able SJft."

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

right to come to Christ is synonymous with,
or equivalent to, what evidences an interest
in him ; or, in other words, persons want to
know that they are really converted before
they dare apply to Jesus. What greatly
tends to entangle and retard the progress
of such souls, are certain injudicious and
dangerous maxims relating to experimen-
tal religion.

First ; Some will say, and many suggest,
that it is not the duty of unconverted peo-
ple to pray. But if so, in order to a convic-
tion of prayer being a duty, the prayerless
person, even while continuing so, must have
evidence of a conversion to God, which is
ridiculously absurd. Though Peter per-
ceived that Simon the sorcerer was in the
gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniqui-
ty, yet he directed him to penitence and
prayer. It is evident there can be no gra-
cious acts, but in consequence of gracious
principles ; yet it is equally evident, that
gracious principles camiot be discerned
but by gracious acts ; therefore such acts
must necessarily precede, or be prior to the
discernment of a spiritual principle. It is
therefore impossible for any man to know
or feel himself to be the subject of grace
while he is prayerless, or to have the least
evidence of^his relation to Christ, without
a reliance upon him and delight in him.

To assert, therefore, that persons are not
to pray till they are converted, is danger-
ous and absurd. Dangerous, as it leads
into a state of deception, into the very es-
sence of Pharisaism ; for such as think
themselves converted before they come to
Christ, by penitential prayer and faith,
found their hopes on self-righteousness :
the secret language of their deceived hearts
is, God he thanked., I am iiot now like other
men, stand by, thou unconverted sinner, I
am holier than thou. Such do not go to
Christ as a trembling criminal, but a confi-
dent convert ; not as an undone sinner, but
a self-admired saint. Again ; such a repre-
sentation is dangerous, as it tends to fatal
security, and keeps a carnal mind in pro-
I'ound and fatal peace ; for a man lives
without prayer, and consequently without
God, yet his conscience does not, cannot
accuse him with the neglect of duty. If he
ought not to pray, an aversion to pray is
not a criminal, but a commendable disposi
tion ; for surely a person is much to be
commended for being averse to what he
ought not to do. If it be said, an unre
generate man ought not to pray, because
while in such a state they are incapable of
spiritual actions, such objectors ought to
point out what duties the iinconverted can
perform acceptably, or allow that they are
not bound to the performance of any ; and
if not under obligation to obedience, they
are not chargeable with sin, and conseqnent-

ly are in a state of safety, not being ex-
posed to punishment ; for whoever are not
culpable need not fear the Divine displeas-
ure. But God has said he will pour out his
fury on all them who call not on his name.

It is shocking to think any poor sinner
should be taught to consider himself ex-
empted from an acknowledgment to God
for the mercies he enjoys, and likewise from
an application to him for present or fu-
ure favors. Besides, it is absurd to assert,
that a person ought not to pray until he
feels himself converted, for it is much the
same as saying a man oughi not to ask for
guidance till he knows he is right, nor seek
for a cure till he feels himself healed.

Secondly ; A second stumbling maxim
is. No man can be the subject of genuine
repentance till he beholds by faith the Re-
deemer as dying for his transgressions, or
at least have hope that his sins are forgiven
him. A poor wounded sinner not being so
favored, is thereby taught to consider the
way to the Saviour as barred against him ;
yea to conclude it would be an affront to
the Lord, a horrid provocation to God, for
him to pray, Take away all iniquity ; or so
much as to cry, God be merciful to me a
sinner : for all such language is only sol-
emn mocking in the lips of the impenitent ;
and impenitent such must be, who are des-
titute of real repentance. But is it not
strange that a person cannot be sorry for a
fault till he hopes he shall not be punished ;
nor sincerely beg for a favor till he enjoys
it 1 How shall a person while he is in a
state of impenitency know, or what is his
warrant to conclude, that Christ died for
him in particular? There is nothing in
scripture to encourage an impenitent sin-
ner to believe or hope he is in a safe condi-
tion, but the very reverse is plainly and aw-
fully expressed, " Thou, — after thy hard-
ness and impenitent heart, treasurest up
unto thyself wrath against the day of
wrath and revelation of the righteous judg-
ment of God." Rom. ii. 5. "For except
ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish."
Luke xiii. 3. " If we confess our sins, God
is faithful and just to forgive us our sins ;"
but the sense of no scripture is, if God will
give us assurance, or hope of a pardon, we
will be faithful and just to acl^nowledge
our offences. If there be no true repent-
ance till the soul behold by faith the Re-
deemer as dying for its sins, then are we
presented with a view of an impenitent be-
liever, or one who beheves his sins are par-
doned, for the commission of which he was
never sorry. The scriptures represent the
nature of repentance and faith, and the
connection between them, as the very re-
verse of those raw and rash assertions be-
fore referred to, "Repent and be converted,
that your sins may be blotted out when the

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

times of refreshing sliall come from the
presence of the Lord." Acts iii. 19. Re-
pentance towards God and faith towards
our Lord Jesus Christ are subjects so im-
portant and comprehensive, as to include
the substance of the gretat apostle's minis-
try : the necessity of repentance in order to
the hope of pardon tlirough faith in tlie
blood of Jesus, he constantly inculcated and
testified both to tlie Jews and Greeks. Acts
XX. 21.

Christ is exalted to give first repentance ;
and tJun remission of sins to Israel. Acts
V. 31. Pardon of sin is never, in all the
scripture, declared as belonging to tlie im-
penitent, but its uniform language is agree-
able to the solemn assertion of the Son of
God ; " Except ye repent, ye shall all like-
wise perish." Luke xiii. 3, 5. Therefore
the belief of a pardon is not prior to repent-
ance indeed implies knowledge of, and be-
lief in the righteous and holy nature of God
and his law, and a persuasion of personal
criminality, as represented in the word of
God. It consists in a pungent sense of the
evil of sin ; a loathing and hearty forsak-
ing of it, and humiliation for it : joined with
a justification of the righteousness of God
in passing sentence on the guilty criminal.
Repentance therefore imphes, and is ac-
companied with the primary actings of faith,
and is the immediate effect of grace in the
soul ; but the first actings of faith are not
a believing the person is pardoned, nor even
a reliance on Christ for the remission of sin.
Nothing can be more false than that an im-
penitent person has a revealed right to par-
don ; if he ought to believe he is pardoned
before he repents, then he ought to believe
a lie. But the most firm, hearty, and con-
stant belief of a falsehood will never make
it a truth. To suppose a person to believe
in Christ as a dying Saviour, without re-
pentance, is the same as supposing a man
to need a physician, and long for a cure,
while he is whole. But that such need not
a physician, but they that are sick; see
Matt. ix. 12. It is impossible such a faith
can be right, which springs from an impen-
itent heart, and which consists in believing
that to be a fact, of the truth of which there
is no evidence. If such a faith be not gen-
uine, liow can a false faith produce true re
,pentance? Repentance is proved to be of
a genuine spiritual nature, by its continu-
ance and increase, when the fault repented
of is remitted. But the conviction of blame
does not spring from a forgiveness of the
crime. Legal repentance, or the terrific op-
eration of the law on the conscience with-
out the grace of the gospel, arises from the
sense of danger, and is continued and in-
creased only by the fear of punishment ;
therefore when danger disappears, and sell'
is supposed to be safe, siicli a repentance

immediately dies, the idea of danger being
its sole support. But true repentance, aris-
ing from a change of heart, a new and ho-
ly principle, and consisting in an aversion to
sin, considered in its/>Oife?'and pollution^ as
well as its pimiahmetd, therefore a sense of
pardon (though it does not give existence
or being to repentance) greatly increases
a godly sorrow for sin, the evil of which is
more deeply impressed on the mind from a
view of the Saviour's sufferings, and the
infinitely amiable character of God as a
righteous lawgiver and loving Father.
Such a view melts the soul into evangelical
sorrow for sin, and inflames the mind with
indignation against it, and a vehement de-
sire after its total destruction ; called by
the apostle revenge. 2Cor. vii. 11. When
God pours on his chosen the spirit of grace,
he first convinceth the soul of sin, and is
then to his people a Sprirt of supplication ;
and such suppliants, saith the Lord, shall
look upon him whom they have pierced,
and they shall mourn for him, as one mourn-
eth for his only son. Zech. xii. 10. The
language of the true penitent, under the
enjoyment of a full pardon, is beautifully set
forth in the following Unes :

Whilst, with a melting, broken heart,
My iiiunlered Lord I view,
I'll raise revenge against my sins.
And slay the murderers too. — Watts.

Again, thirdly : It is frequently asserted,
that a true faith in Christ is inseparably
connected with the knowledge in him, or
that there can be no proper believing in
Jesus without considering him as a person's
own : this has proved a stumbling-block to
many : for as common sense suggests the
absolute necessity of evidence, in order to
support a claim, and the soul before it goes
to Christ not having that evidence, there-
fore is discouraged from applying to him,
till proof of an interest in him appear.
Laboring in vain for marks and signs, as
evidences of their belonging to Christ, in
order to warrant or encourage their appli-
cation to him, they conclude there is no
hope, they are none of his chosen and re-
deemed, &c. But there is no doctrine con-
tained in the gospel, nor even any threat-
ening in the law of God, which is in its
own nature, a bar to an undone sinner's
coming to Christ for salvation. Their right
to come to Christ, does not in the least de-
pend upon, or arise from, prior knowledge
of interest in special blessings, or feeling
themselves the subjects of supernatural
principles. Such knowledge, such experi-
ence, is impossible to be obtained, but in
consequence of believing in or receiving
Jesus the Saviour ; for he who believeth
not, is declared to be under condemnation;
the wrath of God abideth on him. To at-
tempt, therefore, to define, as some do, who

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS

ought, and ought not to return to God by
Christ, is daring presumption, and tends to
discourage the soul, and rivet the fetters of
guilt, where a sense of meanness and mis-
ery prevails, and in others, to encourage j
self-righteousness, by establishing the idea
of previous fitness in order to salvation.

If any one should ask, Have I a right to
apply to Jesus the Saviour, simply as a
poor, undone, perishing sinner, in whom
there appears no good thing? I answer.
Yes ; the gospel proclamation is, " Whoso-
ever will, let him come." " To you O men,
I call, and my voice is to the sons of men."
Prov. viii. 4. The way to Jesus is gracious-
ly laid open for every one who chooses to
come to him. His arms of mercy are ex-
panded to receive the coming soul. Fear
not, poor sinner, to approach him he will
not, on any account, cast thee out. John
vi. 37. He does not receive with reluc-
tance ; no, it his joy, it is his delight to save
to the uttermost all that come unto God by
him. Consider, the painful work of salva-
tion is now, with him, for ever over. His
endearing invitations to poor heavy-laden
sinners, his melting expostulations with
them, and gracious reception of them, are
left on record as the warrant, and for the
encouragement of sinners ; therefore, the
worst of such, even the vilest of the vile,
may come and apply to him for salvation
from sin and sorrow. However remote
you are, however great the distance from
him, he kindly invites you to view him as
as the almighty Saviour ; saying, " Behold
me ; Behold me !" Isaiah, Ixv. 1. " Look
unto me, all ye ends of the earth, and be
ye saved, for I am God, and there is none
else." Isaiah, xlv. 22. The gracious grant
is indefinite ; the way to Jesus is open and
free for whosoever will, without exception ;
nothing that God has done, said, is in its
nature an obstacle. None can in truth say
they desire salvation, but may not apply for
it, or cannot attain it. To infer that per-
sonal unworthiness, or any scriptural doc-
trine, is a bar in their way to Jesus, is either
the effect of strong temptations, or owing
to the want of attention to the grace of God
displayed in the gospel. There is no pre-
ventive bar in the sinner's way to the Sa-
viour, but what arises from a carnal heart ;
such as impenitency for sin, an attachment
to self-righteousness, and an avowed avers-
ion to the holy perfections of God and his sov-
ereign methods of grace. But let it be ob-
served, that a grant to come to Christ does
not support a claim, or give a right to con-
clude they shall be saved by him. No, such
a conclusion is only inferrable from our hav-
ing really believed in his name ; a right to go
to Christ is no proof we have done so. What
evidences a person's being a true believer is
quite distinct from what iiJarra?«/s his apply-

ing to the Saviour: the latter arises from
what God in his word says to him ; the for-
mer appears from the change which is
wrought in him. To put persons, therefore,
examining themselves whether they have
faith, before they believe, is extremely inju-
dicious ; and to encourage professors in the
persuasion they are believers, without scrip-
ture evidence of an internal change, is aw-
fully dangerous.

It would be a great advantage to inquir-
ing souls, and discouraged Christians, as
well as presumptuous professors, to have
right ideas of the nature of faith, or what
it is to believe to the saving of the soul.
Faith is a believing the Divine testimony.
For he that believeth not maketh God a
liar. Faith in Christ is a crediting what
the scriptures assert concerning him ; which
may be comprised in the following three
things : TViat he is, what he is, and whose
he is. The first is absolutely necessary ;
for saith Jesus, "Except ye believe that
I am he," viz. the real and true Messiah,
the promised Saviour, "ye shall die in your
sins." But it is not enough to beheve this,
which wicked men may do ; Simon the sor-
cerer did, and devils believe it and tremble.
These evil spirits knew him to be Christ
the Son of the living God. Luke iv. 41.
But true faith, with which salvation is con-
nected, consists in believing likewise, wliat
he is. Truths, respecting his person, offi-
ces, works, and relations, may be assented
to, by such as hath no faith in his excellen-
cy, but have an enmity against what he is.
But to them that believe Christ is precious ;
he is declared to be the chief among ten
thousand, and altogether lovely. The gra-
cious soul, heartily believes him to be so,
and therefore can sincerely adopt the lan-
guage as his own. His personal qualities,
with the nature and design of his work and
offices, the real Christian believes. He gives
credit to the Divine testimony, not only in
respect of its reality, but hkewise its holy
nature and spirituaUentZency. The tidings
concering the person of Christ, and his in-
finite fulness of merit and grace, are declar-
ed to be good, as well as true ; the renew-
ed soul believes them to be so, even the on-
ly satisfying portion that an immortal mind
can possess. He receives them as every
way suited to his present circumstances, as
guilty and impure ; being divinely adapted
to render him holy and happy for ever.
This is what the scripture calls an embrac-
cing, when true faith is the subject under
immediate consideration. See Heb. xi. 13.

Saving faith is differently denominated
in scripture, but always exactly correspond-
ing with the various representations of
Christ in the gospel. Is he lifted up as an
object to be beheld ? Believers " look to
him" as the wounded Jews did to the braz-

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

en serpent lifted up in the wilderness for
their relief Is he a " gift ?" Faith as such
" receives" him. As he is called the " bread
of Ufe," believing is termed an " eating or
hving upon" him. Considering him as a
support, faith is described as a leaning upon
him. He is called a faitliful friend; and
faith is then denominated a " confiding or
trusting," in him. He is set forth as a " re
fuge," and faith is then termed a " running
or flying" to him for safety. He is repre-
sented as the husband of his people, and
then ilieir faith is called giving themselves
to him. Many more instances might be
produced of the diversification of believing
in Christ, according as its object is repre-
sented ; for the purpose of setting forth the
various infinite blessings in him, and bene-
fits flowing from him, who is the real be-
lievers' aU in all. But I hope the above
few instances may suffice to illustrate the
true Christian's belief in Jesus respecting
what he is ; with which faith salvation is
inseparably connected in the scriptures of
truth. As to faith in the third sense i. e.
Whose he is : Faith, or believing in the last
sense, if right, must be founded on the Di-
vine word as well as the former ; for that
must sink which has not " Thus saith the
Lord" for its support. If faith be a believing
the Divine testimony, then the grand inquiry
ought be, who the scriptures declare to be
interested in Christ? To enforce the sol-
emn inquiry, and lead to solid satisfaction
in a matter so infinitely important, we may
observe two things, which I suppose will
readily be granted by every person of com-
mon understanding.

1. All men are not savingly interested in
Christ, for some are declared to be none of his.

2. No man is described as belonging to
Christ by his personal name, situation in
life, external profession, natural connections,
or descent ; therefore it follow.?, that some
other description of the persons must be
sought for, distinct from the above, on which
the belief for a saving interest in Christ
may be founded.

Who then have a right, according to
scripture, to conclude Christ is theirs, and
they are his ? Some there are whose com-
mon reply to the important query is, Christ
belongs to those who believe themselves sav-
ingly interested in him. But the query
returns. On what is such a faith or belief
founded? If their right to Christ arise
from believing him to be theirs, they had
no title to him before they so believed ;
therefore the thing was false when they
first believed it true ; and it is very extraor-
dinary indeed that a falsehood should be-
come a truth, by its being confidently btliev-
■ed, or induslrionshj propagated. Faith
makes no alteration in the nature of the
thing believed. What is t7'ue does not be-

come ^fee because it is discredited. Nor is
it possible a lie should change its nature, and
become true, however a person may strive
to keep up a fti-m persuasion of its being a
truth, and labor against doubting its reali-
ty. It might be happy lor such professors,
whose faith is founded on falsehood, if they
could be made ashamed of their assurance,
by a deep conviction of their being under
a strong delusion, that they believe a lie,
and rejoice in a thing of nought. (See 2
Thess. ii. 11. Amos vi. 13.) In this condi-
tion, those most certainly are, who believe
Christ is theirs without any scriptural evi-
dence to support persuasion. But alas ! tlie
bands of such are generally made strong
by tJie joy that accompanies their confi-
dence ; for, taking it for granted their faith
is right, they apply to themselves the prom-
ises of salvation, and think it would be a sin
to doubt of their safety, and a much great-
er to cast aAvay their confidence, which
they apprehend will meet with a great re-
compense of reward. Such despise all ev-
idences of a change of heart, and of the
disposition of the sovd, as legal and low :
their maxim is. The u-eakerthe evidence the
stronger the faith. Some of the class reler-
red to have defined faith to consist in a be-
lieving tliat CTirist died for my sins i7i par-
ticular. Such a definition, to be sure, is
consistent enough with tlie sentiment of
universal redemption. For all who believe
that doctrine must have such a faith, unless
they should happen to doubt their being of
the human species. But that faith does
not ensure the salvation of any man, unless
all men be saved. Nay, if the sentiment
aforesaid be granted, the salvation of no
man can be inferred from an interest in the
Saviour's death, because each of those in
hell (if it be allowed any of the human
race are there) may with as much truth as
those in heaven, say, Jesus loved me, and
gave himself for vie. Such a faith is there-
fore destitute of evidence of a saving in-
terest in Christ.

Others have asserted that faith is a be-
lieving Christ to be a person^s own, without
any evidence from scriptures, sense or rea-
son. Be not discouraged, ye seeking souls,
with the boasted attainments of such be-
lievers as aforesaid, who glory in their
freedom from doubts about their soul's sal-
vation. You have a more sure word of
prophecy, to which ye do well to take heed,
as to a light shining in a dark place. God
has, in his word, given a full description of
all those who are interested in Christ, and
are, as such, heirs of his salvation ; those
who answer the description have a right to
conclude, that through the grace of the Lord
Jesus th ey shall be saved. Those who have
not the spirit of the Lord Jesus Christy
(however they may make their boast of

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

Ood, as the carnal Jews did,) they are none
of his. Rom. viii. 9 ; and they that are
Christ's have crucified the flesh with the
affections and lusts. Gal. v. 24 ; they give
full consent to the death of sin, and heartily
cry respecting all their iniquities, Away
with them, crucify them. They wish every
sin to be the object of universal contempt,
and would gladly put them to open shame.
They account them the worst enemies to
God and their souls ; and such is their en-
mity against those grand deceivers, that
nothing can satisfy them short of their total
destruction. The Spirit of God in the
word, in describing the character of real
saints, hearetk witness with our spirits,
which are conscious of a real change, that
we are the children of God ; and if chil-
dren, then heirs ; heirs of God, and joint
heirs with Christ Jesus. Rom. viii. 16, 17.
Therefote, he that believeth on the Son of
God, hath the witness in himself That is,
he is conscious of the acts of his own soul,
that they are in nature and kind, however
they are deficient in degree, what the peo-
ple of God in the scriptures are described by.
Every Christian, therefore, habitually
believes that such persons as answer to the
description of saints, whether themselves or
others, shall have everlasting life, (and that
no other but such shall be saved.) He that
believeth not God, hath made him a liar,
because he believeth not the record that
God gave of his Son; and this is the
record, that God hath given to its eternal
life ; and this life is in his Son ; 1 John, v.
10, 11. There is a cordial believing in
Christ respecting both, that he is, and what
he is, and likewise respecting whose he is ;
in reference to the true character of
those interested in him, before the believer
may be fully satisfied respecting his own
personal claim to Christ. The apostle
Paul, writing to the saints at Ephesus, and
speaking of himself and others who first
trusted in Christ, adds, In whom ye also
trusted, after that ye heard the word of
truth, the gospel of ijour salvation. In
whom also after that ye believed, ye were
sealed with that Holy Spirit of promise.
Eph. i. 13. A seal is a visible impression
made for the purpose of confirmation ; the
saints were not confirmed in their personal
interest in the promises, till after they trust-
ed, or believed in Christ. Another apostle,
in a letter to the people of God in general,
says, these things have I written unto you
that believe on the name of the Son of
God, that ye may know that ye have eter-
nal life ; and that ye may believe on the
name of the Son of God. 1 John, v. 13.
He had in the letter laid down several
marks, by which the saints are distinguish
ed from others, such as obedience to God,
haired to sin, and love to the brethren, and
Vol. a— L.

hereby (says he) we knoio that we' know
him. Chap. ii. 3. The weak among them,
which he called little children, he was con-
fident, from the appearance of real holiness,
that they were in a happy and safe, condi-
tion, having their sins forgiven for Christ's
sake. Yet these were not fully confirmed,
though they had believed to the saving of
the soul ; therefore, what he had wrote for
their serious consideration, was in order
that they might be asstcred of eternal life,
being included among those of whom he
speaks in the preceding verse. That have
the Son. He supposes some professors
might believe without evidence, and boldly
say, We have fellowship with God. Chap,
i. 6. Says another, I knoxo him, chap. ii. 4,
and abide in him, verse 6. / love God.
Chap. iv. 20. Yea, he supposes some pro-
fessors might boast of having attained to
sinless perfection, chap. i. 8. But without
any ceremony he pronomiceth all those who
claim a title to salvation, without evidence
of sanctification, to be self-deceived, and
strangers to God and truth. Chap. i. 6, ii.
10, iv. 20. He calls them to the bar of con-
science, and asserts that those, and those
only, whose hearts do not condemn them,
have confidence towards God. Chap. iii.
19, 21. Every true Christian is possessed
of what Jesus terms an honest heart. Luke
viii. 15. They would not, they dare not
claim, or take possession of what is not
their own ; they are persuaded those who
do, will be.rejected at last, and made asham-
ed of their hope and presumptuous persua-
sion. A God of truth can never require
any man to believe a falsehood ; nor even
any thing relating to a fact which is unre-
vealed. For instance, he requires men to
l)elieve there are three that bear record in
heaven, and that these three are one, and
the union of two natures in the person of
Christ. But how these are one, being not
revealed, is neither the object of faith, nor
the subject of human understanding. The
support of faith is the authority and fidelity
of God. Hence the scriptures are called
the faithfid word. Tit. i. 9 ; the true saying
of God. Rev. xix. 9. And this is a faith-
ful saying, (to be depended upon as an
established fact,) and ivorthy of all accep-
tation, (being fully proved to be infinitely
good as well as true,) that Jesus Christ
came into the world to save siniiers. 1 Tim.
i. 15. Faith therefore includes not only an
assent to gospel truths, but a persuasion of
their infinite worth and transcendent glory ;
and personal interest therein ariseth trom
the evidence of having received the truth in
the love of it ; for faith, objectively consid-
ered, or as it respects the things believed
by the Christian, is a compendium, or the
substance of thingfe hoped tor, as published
in the glorious gospel of the grace of God.

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

Faith, subjectively considered, consisteth in
the evidence of things not seen by the car-
nal mind, or corporeal eye. Hcb. xi. 1 :
which hidden realities, though concealed
from the wise and prudent, are revealed
unto babes. Matt. xi. 25 ; and every one
who really receives Christ Jesus the Lord,
to them he gives power, or authority, to
become the sons of God, even to them tliat
believe on his name. However weak their
faith may be, they are possessed of that
which is in its own nature an evidence that
they are born not of blood, nor of the will
of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of
God. John, i. 12, 13. But though every
heaven-born soul is the subject of what
evidences a relation to God, he has not al-
ways light enough to discern it. Besides,
a view of the depravity of his heart en-
gages his attention, and frequently fills
him with fear that he is not passed from
death unto life. Such persons are referred
to the following chapter.

CHAPTER IL

Conceiving the New Birth.

Some gracious people are greatly dis-
couraged because they cannot ascertain
the time when they passed under such a
change. They are persuaded of the truth,
and are convinced of the propriety of the
Lord's solemn asseveration. Verily^ verily,
I say unto thee, except a man he horn again,
he cannot see, he cannot enter into the king-
dom of God. But not knowing the time
when they were born again, and perhaps,
through confused ideas of wliat is intended
by the term, they are kept in a state of un-
comfortable suspense, and their progress of
vital religion is retarded, not knowing how
to determine, or by what rule to judge, whe-
ther they are, or are not, born again. To
such persons I would propose the following
consideration :

Do you know the exact time of your
natural birth ? None can answer they do
I'rom their own knowledge and memory
and though some cannot obtain certain
information from any one on what day. or
even in what year they were born, yet they
do not doubt of the fact. As effects in
natural things lead back to their respective
causes, and are infallible proofs of their
reality, so it is in spiritual affairs. In tliis
. manner we are taught in scripture to pro-
ceed, in order to gain assurance respecting
facts which fall not under immediate per-
sonal observation. As. saith the apostle,
every house is builded by some man; as
therefore every structure, from the princely
palace to the meanest cottage, are incon-

testible proofs of human agency, so as
saints are God's workmanship, created
anew in Christ Jesus, and habitations of
God through the Spirit, the nature of the
change produced in them claims Jehovah
for its author; therefore, as the apostle
adds, he that buildeth all things is God.
Heb. iii. 4. The great inquiry should be,
Whether we are the subjects of the heav-
enly birth or not? for as to the time when,
it is an immaterial circumstance, any fur-
ther than as related to the question, How
old art thou? As it is not necessary to
know the time of your natural birth, in order
to prove your proper humanity, neither is
the knowledge of your spiritual birth, as to
the time when, at all needful to evidence
your true Christianity ; the change may be
demonstrably evident, though the time when
it first commenced be uncertain. To know
whether a person is born again, it should be
considered that the work of the Spirit of
God upon the soul, whereby sinners are
denominated new creatures, is set forth by
figurative language. As there are new
principles or dispositions produced, it is
called a creation. "Created in Christ
Jesus." Eph. ii. 10. As it bears resem-
blance to procreation, it is therefore called
a regeneration and a new birth. These
terms are used for the purpose of illustrat-
ing its nature, the evident and plain import
of which are to point out, that a person who
is the subject of such a gracious charge,
feels and views himself to be in such cir-
cumstances, in a spiritual sense, as resem-
ble the natural condition of an uifant ; for
such persons feel themselves feeble atid
forlorn ; they are convinced of their utter
inability to provide for the least of their
numerous wants, or even to describe them ;
like a new-born babe they desire the sincere
milk of the word, which they relish, taste
the sweetness of, and are nourished by.
They are dependent entirely on the Lord's
care and kindness, who loves them, deals
tenderly with them, feeds them with what
is convenient for them, as they are able to
bear it, clothes them with the robe of right-
eousness, and garments of salvation. He
teaches them, gradually, the things relating
to the kingdom of grace into which they
are brought, and of which they are natu-
rally ignorant ; for " they shall all be taught
of God, from the least of them to the great-
ost of them." Isa. liv. 13. As they have a
disposition for spiritual activity, so the Lord
increases their strength, takes them by the
hand, teaches them to go. Hos. xi. 3. As
they grow in acquaintance with their heav-
enly Father, and the household of laith,
they feel a love to God, a fear of liim, have
their dependence upon him, and are desirous
of his presence, protection, and guidance.
They love all the people of God, and those

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

the best who, as they think, most resemble
him. Those, therefore, who are thus de-
pendent upon God, humble before him,
having a reUsh for Divine things, or, in a
word, dispositions towards God of a filial
nature, becoming a child to his father and
family ; such have the evidences of being
born again, they having been brought with
godly simplicity to receive tlie kingdom of
heaven as a httle child, without which, the
Redeemer has declared, no man can in any
wise enter therein. Luke, xviii. 17. Thus
the feeble state and forlorn condition of the
Jews, when God first entered into covenant
with them as a people, and they became his
special property and care, is illustrated by
an infant, Ezek. xvi. in the most deplorable
condition. So the spiritual experiences of
his people, both sorrowful and sweet, are
represented by the metaphor of a helpless
infant, under the kind care of its loving
compassionate, and prudent parent. Again
such bear the likeness of their Father
God ; as by their first birth they partake of
the image of the earthly, so by their second
birth they are made partakers of the heav-
enly ; for that which is born of the flesh, is
flesh ; and that which is born of the Spirit,
is spirit. John, iii. 6. They that are born
again, love what God does, and hate what
he abhors, which gradually increaselh as
they grow in grace, or to maturity, as per-
fect men in Christ Jesus. A holy disposi
tion therefore an infallible proof of a heav
enly descent, or that such are born again.

CHAPTER III.

Concerning Spiritual Joys.

Many Christians are discouraged on ac-
count of their not having been favored with
such strong consolation as others speak of;
and some are stumbled because of the short
duration of their joy ; and in both the above
causes perplexities arise about the real dif-
ference between false and true pleasure
attending religion. Such persons would do
well to consider, that it is not the height of
consolation, nor the length of its continu-
ance, which proves it genuine, or of a true
spiritual nature: some of the Galatian
church, of whose gracious state the apostle
was in doubt, spoke of great blessedness.
Gal. iv. 15. The Israelites sang God's
praise with great delight at the Red Sea,
but soon forgot his works, and rebelled
against his authority; the stony ground
hearers received the word with joy, but not
haying depth of root, therefore, when tribu-
lation came for the word's sake, their pleas-
ure and profession died. Even Herod
heard John with gladness, yet clave to his

sins: and Ezekiel was a pleasant song to
many of his hearers who took no delight in
obedience to God. It is possible some may
hold fast their self-deception, and go down
to hell with a lie in their right hand, re-
joicing in a thing of nought ; for a hope of
dehverance from punishment cannot fail
giving pleasure to its possessors ; and while
the pleasing expectation is supported, the
degree of consolation arising from a false
hope may be equal, yea, superior to what is
produced by a good one. Such not know-
ing their own hearts, and the infinite evil of
sin, are therefore not plagued like other
men. Psal. Ixxiii. 5, 14. We ought seri-
ously to consider from what our comforts
spring, and in what they terminate, in order
to know and judge of their true nature and
kind: false comforts frequently arise from
a partial view of God's salvation. An un-
sanctified soul will rejoice in the hope of a
deliverance from the punishment of sin,
simply from the principle of self-love. But
mere safety does not satisfy the truly gra-
cious ; all such likewise want to have tlie
power of sin subdued, and the pollution of
sin removed ; their habitual prayer to God
is, " Take away all iniquity, and receive us
graciously." Hosea, xiv. 1, 2. Pleasures
therefore arising from a prospect of free-
dom from sorrow, may be where sin main-
tains a full dominion ; " I shall have peace,
(saith one,) though I walk in the imagina-
tion of mine heart, to add drunkenness to
thirst ; thus he blesseth himself in his heart,
when he heareth Jehovah's tremendous
curse." How awful is Heaven's language
to such a daring deluded sinner ! " The
Lord Avill not spare him, but the anger of
the Lord and his jealousy shall smoke
against that man, and all the curses written
in this book shall lie upon him." Deut.
xxix. 19, 20.

Again ; false joy sometimes ariseth from
the manner of relief being brought to the
mind, but true pleasure springs from the
matter apphed, or the nature and suitable-
ness of truth discovered. The suddenness
of relief is only a circumstance in itself,
and yet some seem to build their hope of
salvation upon it; but those who infer such
impressions are all of God, and absolutely
safe, forget that Satanical influences are
compared to darts : on the other hand, some
unmercifully censure every extraordinary
relief as diabolical. But as times of dread-
ful temptations and overwhelming sorrows
are periods which will not admit of delay ;
and when viewed in tliat Hght, it is no won-
der the soul with holy vehemence should
cry, " Make haste, make no tarrying, oh my
God ;" and, is it a wonder that God should
hear prayer, or be found a present, yea, a
very present help in time of trouble ? If
not, why then should such appearances be

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS,

opposed or doubted? The Lord flies on
the wings of the wind for the help of Jesh-
\irun, and may he not avenge lus own elect,
who cry unto him day and night, and that
speedily, though he may seem to bear long
with them ; tor as he sendeth forth 'his com-
mandment upon earth, his word rurmeth
very .swiftly ? Yea, he says, '• Before they
call, I will answer ; and whilst they are yet
speaking, I will hear." Isaiah, Ixv. 24.
Daniel Ibund his promise verified in his
experience ; for while he was speaking in
prayer, Gabriel being caused to fly swiftly,
touched him, and told him, that the begin-
ning of his supplication, the commandment
came forth, in obedience to which he ap-
peared in his favor. Dan. ix. 21, 23.

Those, therefore, are not to be censured
or discouraged, who have found that ere
they were aware their souls were made
like the chariots of Aminadab ; providing
their hope leads to holiness, and their peace
and pleasure terminate in purity. Many
Christians have reason to admire the speedy
manner in which the Lord has relieved
them, when their prospects were dismal,
and their souls with horror stood trembling
on the brink of eternal woe ; like a poor
criminal at the fatal tree, expecting every
moment to launch into eternity, but who is
happily prevented by the sudden arrival of
a reprieve or a pardon from his gracious
sovereign. He admires and is thankful for
the speed with which the joyful message
came. Notwithstanding which, he does not
consider the manner of the messenger's
arrival; but the tidings brought are the
principal spring of his joy, anil the only
foundation ol" his present security. The
posts which carried the cruel edict from the
Persian court, to destroy the Jews in every
province were hasted by the king's com-
mandment, as well as those despatched in
their favor ; therefore the monarch's inten-
tion was not from thence discoverable.
The speed with which a message is carried
does not prove it to be of a favorable nature,
nor does it so much as demonstrate from
or to whom it is sent. Neither does the
manner in which any portion of scripture is
brought to the mind, determine its being
the language of God to that person in par-
ticular; the mere mode of impressions is
not essential to spiritual comfort, conviction,
or instruction ; yet many are encouraged or
cast down more from the manner in wliich
impressions are made on tlieir minds, than
from the matter expressed, or the nature
and tendency of truth contained in the
scriptures. A genuine hope in God, or the
enjoyment of pardon, is ever accompanied
with self-diffidence ; such as are so favored,
rejoice in Christ Jesus, and put no conjidence
in the jlesh. Sacred pleasure is not only
incomparably superior, but of a nature op-

posite to levity and camal security ; fervent
love to God will be excited and promoted
by it. I will, says David, love the Lord,
because he hath heard my supplication ;
and of Mary it is said, she loved much be ■
cause much was forgiven her. It invigo-
rates repentance ; " tliey shall look upon me
whom they have pierced, and mourn," yea,
" shall be ashamed and confounded when 1
am pacified towards them, for all that they
have done, saith the Lord." It promotes
humble, cheerful, and universal obedience ;
the language of such a soul is, " Wliat an»
I? or what was my father's house, that
thou shouldest bring me hitherto ? How is
it, Lord, thou shouldest thus manifest thy-
self ! What shall I render unto the Lord 1
I will run the ways of thy commandments.
Bless the Lord, O my soul."

In regard to those who are distressed
about the fluctuation of their enjoyments, it
may be a relief to their minds to consider
that God " went up from Jacob in the place
where he talked with him." Gen. xxxv. 13.
David's mountain stood strong, but when
the Lord hid his face, he was troubled.
Permanent joy is not to be expected in this
world, but is reserved for the next. What
God imparts now, is designed to encourage
and forward the Christian in his duty, and
so to profit rather than to please. Again ;
the shorter our present comforts are, the
oftener should we apply to the God of all
consolation for the renewal of them ; saymg
with David, " Restore unto me the joys of
thy salvation ;" and with the pensive pro-
phet, " O the hope of Israel, the Saviour
thereof in time of trouble, why shouldest
thou be as a stranger in tlie land, and as a
wayiaring man, that turneth aside to tarry
for a night?" Jer. xiv. 8. And the more
watchful should we be lest we grieve the
Holy Spirit, the comforter, and cause him
to withdraw his soul-cheering influences.

CHAPTER IV.

Experience of Indwelling Sin.

A DEEP sense of internal depravity, or
the prevalency of sin in the heart, has often
been very stumbling to serious Christians,
who, on a view of tlieir vileness, have been
ready to conclude their cases are both sin-
gular and sad; saya the discouraged soul,
'' If I be a Christian, why am I thus ?"

It may be an advantage for such to re-
flect, that a soul-humbling sense of sui, and
deep abasement before God, has been expe-
rienced by the most eminent saints recorded
in scripture, as is evident from the language
they have used on the subject of self-de-
scription, saying, " Behold I am vile, I abhor

HELP TO Z I OX'S TRAVELLERS.

myself." " I am undone. I am a man of
unclean lips." " I blush to look up to heav-
en." "I am as a beast before thee."
" Surely I am more brutish than any man,
and have not the understanding of a man."
"In me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no
good thing. I am carnal, and sold under
sin. I find a law in my members warring
against that in my mind, leading me into
captivity." " Iniquities prevail against me."
" Evil is present with me. I cannot do the
things that I would. O wretched man that
I am ! who shall deliver me ?" " We are
all as an unclean thing." These, with
many more instances which might be pro-
duced, demonstrate, that true believers, and
they only, are properly acquainted with the
plague of their own hearts. Why then
should the Christian be discouraged through
feeling himself to be, what those, who were
eminent for godliness, have with shame and
sorrow acknowledged they were ? Besides,
have you not repeatedly entreated the Lord
to search and try you, to discover what was
in your hearts? And shall you now be
stumbled and discouraged because he has
heard and answered your prayers? And
as God has given you an experience similar
to what was once the case of those who are
now the subjects of spotless purity and per-

f)etual praise, is it reasonable to conclude
Irom thence you are not the subjects of a
gracious change ? You may rather infer,
that if the Lord had been pleased to have
slain you, he would not have shown you
such things as these. Remember the whole
need not a physician, but those that are
sick ; and grace has made rich provision
for healing all the diseases and maladies of
the mind. Perhaps every good man will
at least account himselt^ of all others the
most indebted to God and grace: for he
feels that in himself which he does not cer-
tainly know is in any other, for every heart
only knows its own bitterness. By such
experiences, the Lord is training his people
for the future glory. For, accounting them-
selves, as St. Paul did, the chief of sinners,
1 Tim. i. 15, their own salvation will be the
matter of eternal wonder, every one view-
ing his own deliverance as the effect of a
peculiar exertion of Divine power, and an
uncommon display of rich superabounding
grace. Being each under infinite deficiency,
respecting their personal endeavors to extol
the great Jehovah, mutual assistance will
be entreated in the work of praise ; for the
language of the redeemed of the Lord to
fellow saints frequently is, " O magnify the
Lord with me, and let us exalt his name
together," Ps. xxxiv. 3. Go on, then, ye
blessed of the Lord, pressing after the full
possession of tliat salvation which you see
the absolute need of, even a complete de-
liverance from sin, as well as from sorrow ;

that grace which has rendered sin loath-
some, and Christ lovely in your view, is
sufficient for you. In a perpetual depend-
ence on which, may you hold on your way
with courage and caution, till you arrive at
Zion's celestial gate ! Then shall you ob-
tain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sigh-
ing shall flee away. Isa. xxxv. 10.

CHAPTER V.

Erroneous Views of ChiHstian Doctrines.

Another class of Christians present
themselves to view, whose progress is re-
tarded by a false and discouraging repre-
sentation of the distinguishing doctrines of
grace ; which are frequently asserted to be
inimical to experimental religion, and of
such a nature as to supersede personal
hohness, and render internal conformity to
God unnecessary- Whatever God has
revealed in his Word, we may be sure is
worthy of himself, and advantageous to his
people. We ought diligently to inquire
what Jehovah has revealed as matter of
faith and obedience ; and whatever is of a
divine original demands our reverent atten-
tion, cordial reception, and cheerful obedi-
ence. It is the height of arrogance in a
puny mortal to di.spute with his Maker
about the propriety of what he does or says.
" O man, who art thou that repliest against
God?" Rom. ix. 20. However, for the
relief of such serious minds as are perplex-
ed and stumbled in consequence of the
aforesaid objections, let us briefly consider
those doctrines which are generally suppos-
ed the most exceptionable in relation to
Christian experience.

First, the doctrine of imputation. This
is not hable to the aforesaid objection ; for
the placing of the Redeemer's righteousness
to the account of his people does not super-
sede the work of the Spirit of God in the
soul, nor render unnecessary holiness of
heart, or the exercise of spiritual graces.
Imputation is not a transfusion. It makes
no alteration in the internal disposition. If
it did, our sins being imputed to Christ
would have tainted his holy mind. But
though sin was placed to his account, and
the Lord laid on him the iniquities of us all:
though He was made sin for us, that he
might legally suffer in our stead according
to law ; yet he was still the Holy One, Avho
knew no sin as a principle in him. So
Christ's righteousness "is upon and towards
those who believe," Rom. iii. 22 ; by which
they are freed from condemnation, but are
not thereby made inwardly pure ; the right-
eousness of Christ is not infused as a holy
principle in them, but put upon them as a

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS,

heavenly robe. Now though righteousness
delivers from death, and entitles to life, yet
an internal disposition suited to the nature
of heavenly fehcity is absolutely necessary ;
therefore there is need of a lil'e of grace
here, in order to a life of glory hereafter ;
and indeed they differ only in degree, not
in nature and kind. Hence Jesus says, " I
give unto my siiecp eternal life." John, x.
28. " This is life eternal, that they may
know thee, the only true God, and Jesus
Christ whom thou hast sent." John, xvii.
3. Men need a righteousness imparted, as
well as a righteousness imputed ; the inner
man of the heart is therefore created anew
in righteousness and true holiness, in order
to the enjoyment of true happiness. Being
guilty, there was a necessity of Christ's
fulfiUing the law for us, but when perfect in
holiness, the righteousness of the law will
be fulfilled in us. By the former we escape
eternal misery. By the latter we have a
taste for, and are rendered capable of, en-
joying heavenly felicity; therefore we ought
to be as much concerned to possess a meet-
ness for heaven as a right to it. But a ca-
pacity to enjoy does not give a title to en-
joyment, in reference to the tilings of na-
ture, nor does it give a right to the bless-
ings of grace. A man, while sick, cannot
enjoy the most pleasing inheritance. Yet
no man in his right mind ever thought the
best state of health, or the firmest constitu-
tion, could give a title to an estate. So the
behever's claim, or entitling righteousness
to future glory, does not depend upon, nor
arise out of his own personal qualifications,
though there is a necessity of perfect holi-
ness, in order to complete happiness.
" This is the heritage of the servants of
the Lord; and their righteousness is of me,
saith the Lord." Isaiah, xliv. 17. In an-
swer to the solemn question, " Who shall
ascend the hill of the Lord, and who shall
stand in his holy place?" it is said, "he
that hath clean hands and a pure heart —
even he shall receive the blessing I'rom the
Lord, and righteousness from the God of
his salvation." Ps. xxiv. 4, 5. The be
liever therefore longs for purity, but, after
all his religious attainments, resolves to go
through life, down to death, and home to
glory " in tlie strength of the Lord God,
making mention of his righteousness, and
of his only." Ps. Ixxi. 16. Again,

Secondly ; Some are ready to object
against the efficacious nature of Divine
grace in conversion, and say "that con
straining grace cannot be consistent with
the natural freedom of the human will.
For if I freely clioose the things of God,
how is my choice owing to divine grace?
And if I be impelled by the power of grace,
how am I free in my choice ?"

By a proper attention to our experience

of mental acts, whether as creatures or
Christians, it will be found tliat choosing is
giving a preference, or is a preferring some
persons or things above others. The pre-
ference given, or choice made, is the effect
of their appearing to us more agreeable, or
having an ascendency in our esteem. How-
ever precious or excellent any thing be in
itself, yet if that excellence or worth be not
discovered, it does not become the object
of choice.

Things are therefore chosen or refused,
esteemed or disesteemed, according as they
appear to the understanding, or are pre-
sented to the mind's view, as agreeable or
disagreeable. Now, as the natural man
cannot know the things of the Spirit of
God, because they are spiritually discerned,
therefore he does not choose them. As
facts they are knowable to such ; but their
Divine beauty and spiritual excellency lie
concealed from the carnal mind ; therefore
natural things are freely chosen or preferred
to spiritual, being more agreeable to the
mind in its unrenewed state. But when
omnipotent grace begets new principles in
the soul, changes the heart, and opens the
understanding to behold things as they
really are, then the world and all temporary
good sinks into nothing and vanity, when
compared with Christ and the blessings of
the gospel. Now the will which before
freely chose sinful delights, as freely choos-
eth the one thing needful. Christ, in whom
sinners saw no form nor comeliness where-
fore they should desire him, is now in their
esteem the chief among ten thousand, and
altogether lovely. Now they freely choose
such things for their portion, and such per-
sons for their associates, as before they had
an utter aversion to. Now they as freely
choose the paths of virtue and religion, as
before they did those of vice and sensuality.
If there be such an alteration experienced,
need I ask such a happy soul, " Who made
thee to differ?" 1 Cor. iv. 7. Surely such
will be free to acknowledge with tlie apos-
tle, " By the grace of God I am what I
am." 1 Cor. xv. 10. If so, you cannot
consistently object,

Thirdly; To the doctrine of election ; for
it looks upon you with a friendly aspect, and
by it you are informed, that grace was
treasured vip for you in Christ Jesus before
the world began ; and if God has now giv-
en grace to you, (the certain pledge of
glory,) it surely will not be offensive to be
informed heintendedto do60,and that he had
it in reserve for yovi before he bestowed it
upon you. You will not, you cannot com-
plain of his having loved you too soon, or
made gracious provision for you too early.
No, you will admire and adore the free and
distinguishing grace of the Fatlier. who
chose you in particular, from everlasting,

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

Bet you apart for himself, and preserved you
in Christ Jesus, and by his Spirit called you
with an high calling, and is now fitting you
for, and leading you to, the lull enjoyment
of salvation with eternal glory. 1 Tim. ii.
10. " Put on, therefore, (as the elect of
God, holy and beloved,) bowels of mercies,
kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness,
long suffering," which you are under the
strongest obligations to discover to your fel-
low-Christians and fellow-creatures. Ever
remember that those who "are a chosen
generation, a royal priesthood, an holy na-
tion, a peculiar people, should show forth
the praises of him who hath called them
out of darkness into his marvellous light."
1 Pet. ii. 9.

This doctrine is not discouraging in its
own nature, (however it may be represent-
ed,) to any sincere seeking sinner. Such
are not called to produce evidences of their
election, in order to warrant their applica-
tion to Jesus for salvation. No, my dear
friends, your present concern is now to have
guilt and pollution removed, that you may
stand accepted before Jehovah's bar. To
you there is a fountain opened, the blood
of Jesus, which cleanseth from all sin.
Your desire of coming to Christ, under a
sense of the absolute need you are in of a
Saviour, is a hopeful sign that you shall
know, if you follow on to know the Lord.
None but the chosen of God do ever heartily
choose religion as the one thing needful;
and the language of the compassionate
Saviour is, " All that the Father giveth me
shall come to me ; and him that cometh to me
I will in nowise cast out " John, vi. 37.
Therefore such as long and wait for the
salvation of God, through sanctification of
the spirit and belief of the truth as it is in
Jesus, whose hearts' desire, is to be found
in Christ, and without blame before him in
love, will never meet with a disappoint-
ment ; for he who cannot lie hath said, " He
will regard the prayer of the destitute, and
not despise their prayer. Psalm cii. 17.
He satisfieth the longing soul, even such
as (for the present,) sit in darkness, and in
the shadow of death, being bound in afflic-
tion and iron. Psalm cvii. 9, 10. Cordial
ly to embrace Christ, and dehberately to
take up his cross and follow him, are the
genuine effects of electing love. To every
such soul the language of the Lord is,
" Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting
love : therefore with loving kindness have I
drawn thee." Jer. xxxi. 3. " I will rest in my
love, I will rejoice over thee with singing."
Zeph. Hi. 17. You who love the Lord, and
desire to be entirely and eternally devoted to
him, you know and are sure you were not
naturally so disposed ; and if so, that new
covenant promise made to Immanuel has
been fulfilled in your favor, "Thy people

shall be willing in the day of thy power."
Psalm ex. 3. He sent his word unto Jacob,
and it lighted upon Israel. You happy souls,
who are conscious of having chosen and
elected the Lord as your God, need not
perplex yourself about his choice of you as
his people. But know that the Lord has
setapart him that is godly for himself ; Psalm
iv. 3. Therefore, blessed is the man whom
the Lord hath chosen, and caused to ap-
proach unto him : Psalm Ixv, 4. For the
foundation of God standeth sure, having
his seal. The Lord knoweth them that are
his. 2 Tim. ii. 19. This doctrine is a
source of strong consolation to them who
have fled for refuge to Christ, the hope set
before them. Heb. vi. 17, 18. For in the
midst of all the perplexing difficulties and
trying occurrences in this fluctuating world,
such may triumph in the hope of eternal
life, which God that cannot he promised
them in Christ Jesus before the world be-

n. Tit. i. 2. For yet a little while, and
he that hath said he shall come, will come
and will not tarry; then shall they meet
with a hearty welcome into the kingdom
prepared for them from the foundation of
the world.

Fourthly ; If discouragements be remov-
ed respecting the doctrine of election, it is
not probable that redemption will be view-
ed in a light unfavorable to weak Chris-
tians. Every truth relating to the law of
God or the gospel of grace, if properly
stated, will be disgustful to the carnal and
unsanctified mind. But those who are
Christians indeed, though they may be ig-
norant of or even prejudiced against, die
terms by which truths are distinguished,
yet the nature of truth is not with them an
object of aversion ; as personal election is
not prejudicial to such, it cannot be thought
redemption should be so.

For the election and redemption of men
are inseparably connected in scripture as
distinct links in the grand chain of gospel
truth ; (he personal objects and end are
the same in each, and Christ's claim to his
people is founded on both ; " Thine they
were, and thou gavest them me. I pray
not for the world, but for them which thou
hast given me, for they are thine, and all
mine are thine, and thine are mine." John
xvii.6, 9,10. As they were given to him
so they were purchased by him ; they were
committed to his care as sheep to a shep-
herd, and he laid down his life for them.
John, X. 15. " The flock of God he pur-
chased with his own blood." Acts, xx. 28.
Called " the precious blood of Christ as of
a Lamb without blemish and without spot."
1 Pet. i. 18. They were given him out of
the world. John, xvii. 6. And he redeem-
ed them from among men. Rev. xiv. 4.
Out of every kindred, and tongue, and peo-

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS,

pie, and nation. Rev. iv. 9. When God
chose his people, he foreknew that man
wculd fall, and the whole human race would
lose their purity, and become transgress-
ors from tlie womb. Isaiah, xlviii. 8. He
therefore chose them to complete salvation
and absolute purity, that they might be with-
out blame betbre him in love. Eph. i. 4.
Christ in whom they were chosen, and to
whose care they ^verc committed, being
constituted the Head of the church, he be
came the Saviour of the body, and gave
himself for it, that he might sanctify and
cleanse it with the washing of water by the
word, that he might present it to himself a
glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle,
or any such thing ; but that it should be
holy and without blemish." Eph. v. 23, 25.
26, 27. Powerful operations of grace in
and upon the church and chosen of God,
by which they are purified and made meet
for heaven, are necessarily connected with
the redemption which Jesus obtained for
them by his precious blood. Divine justice
was satisfied with the stipulated price, and
infinite power secures the purchased pos-
session ; such a redemption is suitable to
Christians of every rank, and discouraging
lo none, if its nature be known properly, or
what is included in it be duly considered.

Those who come to Christ consider them-
selves as criminals justly condemned, and
therefore in absolute need of a pardon.
*■• God be merciful to me a sinner," is the
language of each ; and where should such
look for relief but to the Saviour, " in whom
we have redemption through his blood, the
forgiveness of sins, according to the riches
of his grace?" Eph. i. 7. Gracious souls
are conscious of having grievously depart-
ed from God. "All we like sheep have
gone astray, we have turned every one to
his own way ;" Isaiah, liii. 6 ; and have
trespassed against our God. But Jesus,
to whom the flock belonged, has made sat-
isfaction for the damage sustained ; for the
Lord laid on him the iniquity of us all. His
people know tliey have trespassed and are
unaole to make a recompense ; for, being
poor, they have nothing to give unto him
against whom they have trespassed. Numb.
V. 7. But in this doctrine Jesus is repre-
.sented as the kind and compassionate kins-
man who engaged, that for the trespass of
his people a recompense should be made
\mto the Lord. He was therefore wounded
for our transgressions, he was bruised for
our iniquities, and redeemed us from the
curse of the law, being made a curse for us.
Gal. iii. 13. Do they consider themselves
afar off from God, and desire to be a peo-
ple near unto the Lord ? How cheering to
such is the docrrino of redemption ! Wliero-
fore remember ye, saith Paul to the jsaints
in his day, "that ye were without Christ,

being aliens from the commonwealth of Is*
rael, having no hope, and without God in
the world ; but now in Christ Jesus, ye who
sometimes were afar off are made nigh by
the blood of Christ." Eph. ii. 12, 13. For
Christ suffered for sins, the just lor the un-
just, (not that he might only open, or jiut us
into a way in which we might possibly at-
tain to glory) but that he might bring us to
God. 1 Peter, iii. 18. In this the saints
triumph in Heaven, and of this they sing,
saying, " Thou, art worthy to take the book,
and to open the seals thereof; for thou wast
slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy
blood." Rev. v. 9. Cheer up, ye discour-
aged souls, for with the Lord there is mer-
cy, and with him is plenteous redemption,
and he will redeem Israel from all his ini-
quities. Psalm cxxx. 7, 8.

Consider the Redeemer's priesthood and
power are unchangeable. Wherefore he is
able also to save them to the uttermost that
come unto God by him, seeing he ever liv-
eth to make intercession for them. Heb.
vii. 24, 25. Yon who are now the servants
of God, were once slaves to Satan and sin,
serving divers lusts and pleasures ; where-
fore the great deliverance and happy change
are entirely owing to the efficacy of redemp-
tion.

How thankful ought we to be, who are
made freeirom such an awful state of bon-
dage ; "forasmuch as ye know that ye were
not redeemed with corruptible things, as
silver and gold, from your vain conversa-
tion received by tradition from your fatlier.^;,
but with the precious blood of Christ." 1
Pet. i. 18.

That peculiar and particular redemption
of which Christ is the author, cannot justly
be deemed discouraging to any who are
sensible of their misery, and long for de-
liverance ; because those who are declared
in scripture to be personally interested in
this special blessing, are described by qual-
ities of mind and exercises of soul, many
of which the weakest Christians knows and
feels himself to be the subject of; such as
a conscious sense of spiritual depravity,
debt, and danger, joined with an approba-
tion of Jesus, and desires after those bless-
ings which result from his merits and medi-
ation.

May saints rejoice in, and sinners seek
after this great redemption, which consist-
eth in a deliverance from the curse of the
law, (Gal. iii. 13,) from all iniquity, (Tit. ii.
14,) from the tyranny of Satan, (1 John, iii.
8. Isaiah, xlix. 25,) the spirit of bondage,
(Heb. ii. 15,) the sting of^ death, the ruins
of mortality, (Hosea, xiii. 14,) and from
wrath to come, (1 Thes. i. 10.) From
these few considerations, the certain salva-
tion of ail the redeemed of the Lord may
be safely inferred, for the redemption is not

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS:

only copious, but durable ; all its blessings
are stamped with eternity, for Jesus has ob-
tained eternal redemption for us. Heb. ix.
12. Therefore ol" the way of holiness it is
asserted by the lip of truth, that " the re-
deemed of the Lord shall walk there, and
the ransomed of the Lord shall return and
come to Zion witli songs and everlasting
joy upon their heads ; they shall obtain
joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing
shall flee away." Isaiali, xxxv, 9, 10. Once
more.

Fifthly. The doctrine of final persever-
ance can scarce be thought discouraging to
the saints, and none but such ought to be
encouraged to hope they shall be saved.
Those who are entered upon a journey, and
are very desirous of a safe arrival, will not
count it a disadvantage to have a faithfid
and infallible guide, who will watch over
them night and day, and never leave them,
but conduct them through every difficulty
they may meet with. Is it reasonable to
suppose they will be discouraged to hear
that ev«ry thing is previously prepared by
a kind friend that went on purpose, as theii
forerunner for their accommodation while on
the road, and their joyful entrance and
welcome reception to those mansions where
they wish to dwell for ever ?

Would it sink the courage of a soldier,
or cause him to enter the field of battle
with reluctance, because he is given to ua
derstand, that no one who draws the sword
in favor of his sovereign shall be slain, but
shall assuredly gain a glorious victory, and
return with songs of triumph to the grand
metropolis, the seat of royalty, and there in
the midst of millions ol" joylul spectators
receive every mark of honor and approba
tion which can be desired from the king?

Would the loving spouse, who is at a
vast and dangerous distance from her royal
husband, be distressed, because he has con
certed measures for her honorable arrival
at his palace, and sent both his cliariot and
his guards to conduct her home with a mes
sage, assuring her he cannot be satisfied
without her presence, and to see her a part-
ner with him on his throne 1

If the above cannot be supposed, how
then can Christians be cast down by that
which ensures their final salvation and the
fulfilment of all their vast desires? The
doctrine, if properly understood, cannot be
deemed in its own nature disadvantageous
to any man, though it be frequently abused,
as every other part of revelation is, and
likewise its Divine Author. It does not en-
courage sloth, or suppose the exercise of
grace unnecessary, and caution needless.
No, it is " through faith and patience they
inherit the promises." The intention and
design ol the great and precious promises
are to encourage a close adherence to

Vol. 3.— M.

Christ, and a continuation in well doing, as
connected with eternal life. And it is a
stimulating motive not to be idle, when they
know their labor shall not be in vain in the
Lord. 1 Cor. xv. 58. To know that the
doctrine is a trutli, I need only say. Search
the scriptures, which testify of Christ's near
relation to tiiem : the strength of his love
towards them ; the infinite price he gave
for them ; the change he has wrought in
them, and the declaration he has made
concerning them, that where he is they shall
be, and because he lives they shall live
also.

CHAPTER VI.

Mysteries of Providence.

Many Christians have been, and are
stumbled and much discouraged because of
God's providences appearing in various in-
stances contrary to his promises. To con-
sider them as real opposites, the good man
knows would be daring infidelity. But not
being able to reconcile them as relating to
himself, he therefore is ready to conclude,
that as providences are gloomy and appear
against him, he has no right to interpret
the promises of God in his favor. It may
be a relief to such to observe.

First; Jehovah's proceedings are ex-
tremely mysterious. " His ways are in the
sea, and his footsteps are not known." As
the Governor of the world, "Clouds and
darkness are round about him," the most
penetrating creature cannot pry into his
deep and vast designs. To impeach his
conduct is the greatest insolence, to pre-
scribe to him rules of propriety, is horrid
presumption. We ought to " be still, and
know that he is God," and does all things
well ; therefore as relating to his will and
operations, we may truly say, Whatever is,
is best. The history of Joseph is a striking
proof of the mystery of Providence ; the
Lord's kindness to him at last appeared,
notwithstanding all the awful consequences
attending his brethren's cruelty ; through
ignominy he was brought to honor ; through
slavery, to liberty and authority ; yea, by
means of an irksome prison he was advanced
to the splendor of a palace. Therefore let
discouraged Christians wait with patience,
till they see in what their trials may termi-
nate ; wherein a decision is difficult and
dangerous, a suspension of judgment is pru-
dent and safe; therefore judge nothing be-
fore the time.

Secondly; Consider, good and great men
have frequently been mistaken when they
have ventured to pass judgment on the pro-
ceedings of God. David thought he should
one day die by the hand of Saul. Provi-

HELP TO Z ION'S TRAVELLERS.

dence wore, for a time, such a gloomy aspect,
that he concluded the prophecies and prom-
ises respecting him would never be accom-
phshed, and tliat the mesfjcngers of God
were liars. Jacob, in a trying period, said
of Divine dispensations, '• All these tilings
are against me." And yet those very prov-
idences brought him into such a state of
honor, comlbrt, and tranquility, as he never
before enjoyed. This is furdier evident
from good Asaph's query, " Will the Lord
cast oft' lor ever : will he be favorable no
more '? Is his mercy clean gone for ever ?
Doth his promise fail for evermore ? Hath
God forgotten to be gracious '? Hath he in
his anger shut up his tender mercies ?"
Psalm Ixxvii. 7, 8. And so awful and in-
tricate were the Divine proceedings toward
holy Job, that he appeared to his friends as
a singular object of God's displeasure. Yea,
he himself verily thought the Lord counted
him as an enemy, and treated him as such.
You who tiiink there is no sorrov/ like
unto your sorrow, attend to the lamenta-
tion 01 that holy man of God, which he ut
tered in the anguish of his spirit, and the
complaint which he made in the bittcrnes
of his soul, recorded in chap. vii. from verse
3, chap, xiii 24, 27, chap. xvi. and chap, xix
6, 21 ; and yet before the commencement
of his trials, and after their accomplish-
ment, Jchovali declares him to have been not
only truly religious, but the most eminent oi
all his servants then on earth ; and Jeremi-
ah, who with remarkable courage pleaded
on Heaven's behalf against a revolted, God-
provoking nation, tiiough he had sweet in
tercourse with ti\e Most High, yet, through
a complication of difficulties and trying dis
pensations, he said, " Surely against me is
he turned." Lam. iii. 3. Such discour
agements have not only attended some few
individuals who have been called to bear
the burden and heat of the day, but have
accompanied the people of God in general,
while m this vale of tears; for " Zion said,
the Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord
hath forgotten me." Lsaiah xlix. 14. The
above, and many more instances of the like
kind, are left on sacred record, not for our
inntation, but admonition : these mournful
proofs of human weakness may serve to con
vince us of our incapacity to discover, in
dark dispen-sations, tlie harmony and con
section between the kindness of God's
heart, and tlie operations of liis hand ;
likewise of the necesssity of walking by faith,
and not by sight Those, therefore, " who
are in darkness, and have no light," are
graciously invited and kindly encouraged
to '-trust in the name of the Lord, and stay
themselves upon their God." Isaiah, li. 10.
" You have heard of the jiatience of Job,
and liave seen the end ol" the Lord, that
ibe Lord is very pitiful and of tender mer-

cy." May the discouraged Christian then
come to the same resolution, which that
eminent man of God, did, saying, " Though
he slay me, yet I will trust in him." Job,
xiii. 15. Consider,

Thirdly ; That by such trying providen-
ces the Lord discovers tp his people what
is in their hearts (see Deut. viii, 2,) by which
their humility and repentance are promoted,
and their dependence on God increased ;
they are thereby put upon sell-examination,
in order to know why the Lord contendeth
with them : each one, therelbre, with sol-
enni seriousness, is brought to interrogate
conscience, saying. What have I done?
And seeing the absolute necessity of direct-
ion, support, and pardon, they become more
frequent and fervent in prayer. Like Jacob,
they retire from the world to wrestle with ,
God ; and being encouraged by his pre-
cious promises, are therefore resolved not
to let him go without a blessing ; therefore
they cry unto him day and night, (Luke,
xviii.) praying without ceasing. And many
kind interpositions of Providences are re-
corded in sc.ipture, and are still experienc-
ed by his people, who have by adverse dis-
pensations been stirred up to seek tlie Lord
with their whole hearts. When Jacob wept
and made supplication to his God, the ter-
rible prospect of his brother's approaching
him at the head of a furious army, breath-
ing vengeance, was changed into a melting
scene of tender friendship and aflisction.
Esau's dreadful designs were at once dis-
missed ; and instead of killing, he salutes
his brother with kisses of kindness, and gen-
erously oilers his service for his future pro-
tection.

Thus providences are in fact designed to
fulfil the promises of God in a way which
prepares the minds of his people for the re-
ception of the i'avor he intends to confer ;
so that God's wisdom, as well as his good-
ness, power, and veracity, becomes the ob-
ject of admiration; for thereby the Lord
makes crooked things straight, and rough
places plain, humbles and yet lielps, discov-
ers the corruption of the human heart ; and
thus from a sense of meanness and misery,
difficulty and danger, deliverances appear
more conspicuously the effects of wonder-
ful grace.

Tims God trieth tJje righteous by a sus-
pension of promised mercies, which delays
are often interpreted as denials, through
the prevalency of unbelief. But let tried
Christians consider tlie conduct of Provi-
dence towards the heirs of promise, as re-
corded in scripture, in order to the support
of hope, and a patient waiting for Christ.
Abraham Avas kept waiting five-and-twcnty
years, and then with joy embraced the prom
ised son. Again, consider, promised mer-
cies frequently arc mibtakcn in their first

HELP TO Z ION'S TRAVELLERS.

appearance, through their being viewed by
the eye of sense and reason, as clothed
with the garb of misery. The choicest
mercies have commonly come in disguise ;
therefore who can by present appearances
know what is good lor a man in this hfe,
all the days of his vain life which he spend-
eth as a shadow? Eccles. vi. 12. How-
ever, it is evident, from an impartial survey
of Jehovah's conduct, that the methods he
takes to accomplish his own gracious de-
signs, and his people's holy desires, are all
worthy of himselt, though frequently the
very reverse of tlie plans of finite wisdom ; as
remarkably evidenced in his dealings with
Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, David,
Daniel, and many others whose religious
characters shine as stars of the first magni-
tude in the horizon of grace.

Fourthly ; Another spring of perplexity
arising in the minds of many, respecting
the providences of God, is, mistaken views
of the nature of Divine promises. Spirit-
ual blessing promised m the scriptures are
frequently construed as including certain
degrees of temporal felicity. Such an in-
terpretation prevailed among the disciples
of Christ; and being disappointed in their
hopes of such enjoyments, therefore sorrow
filled their hearts, the expectation of earthly
dignity and worldly splendor beclouded
their minds, and darkened their understand-
ing respecting the spiritual glories of Christ,
the nature of his kingdom, and designs of
his death. Though there Avas an inconsis-
tency and real contrariety in nature be-
tween the proceedings q( God and his ^ro??t-
ises as interpreted by them, yet afterwards,
when favored with a clearer understanding
of the scriptures, they saw a happy harmo
ny, and an inseparable connection between
them, and rejoiced in the accomplishment
of the promises of God, which were all
found yea and amen in Christ Jesus. To
prevent the like mistake among believers
in future, the apostle to the Hebrews points
out the various trying providences attend-
ing the worthies of old ; who wandered
about in sheep skins and goat skins, being
destitute, afflicted, tormented, but through
faith and patience are now inheriting the
promises. Therelbre, having nothing of
this world is not inconsistent with inherit-
ing all things which relate to the world to
come. The Lord has promised to ])rovide
tor his people's real wants in this life. He
hath said, " Thy bread shall be given, and
thy water shall be sure ;" " your heavenly
Father knoweth you have need of these
things." "He careth lor you," — but he
hath not described the quality or quantity
of earthly good, with which you shall be
fed. Poverty, yea extreme poverty, has
been the lot of many who were evidently
Uie heirs of glorv. The churches of Christ

in Macedonia were in deep poverty. Yet
many of the children of God were poorer
than they, to whose relief the said churches
contributed, even beyond their power, of
which the apostle Paul, who was a witness,
bears record, 2 Cor. viii. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. " And
unto the church in Smyrna write these
things, saith the first and the last, which
was dead and is alive, I know thy works
and tribulation and poverty, but thou art
rich." Rev. ii. 8, 9.

" Hearken, my beloved brethren, (saith
a compassionate follower of Jesus,) hath
not God chosen the poor of this world, rich
in faith, and heirs of the kingdom, which
he hath promised to them that love him?"
James, ii. 5. The same inspired writer even
supposes a brother or sister to be naked,
and destitute of daily food, ver. 15. Such
have therefore been spoken of by the ap-
pellation of poor saints, Rom. xv. 26. A
distressed saint may lie at the door of a
rich sinner without receiving a crumb of
relief, and appear as if forsaken by God and
man. But oh, how great the change !
How vast the dilference in eternity ! He
who seemed as if neglected by Heaven
and earth, ascends at death to glory and to
Abraham's bosom ; while the sumptuous
living sinner sinks down to liell, and being
in torment, asks in vain lor a drop of water
to cool his scorched tongue. But of Laza-
rus, it is said with an air of sacred pleas-
ure, NOW he is comforted. Again,

Fifthly ; Some have great discourage-
ments and perplexity, arising from the fail-
ure of what they have consiilered as special
and direct promises made to them in par-
ticular, as relating to the path of duty, or
the enjoyment of some tuture good. The
persuasion of promises being made to them
in particular arose perhaps from some por-
tion of scripture being impressed on their
mind, the terms and language of which
were exactly suitable to what they had
been seeking the Lord about, and therefore
deemed expressive of his mind in that par-
ticular ; the failure, therefore, of these, dis-
courages their hope respecting the fulfil-
ment of those which relate to their eternal
salvation. For the relief of such I would
observe, that though it is not denied but in
some special cases the Lord may have fa-
vored some of his people with intimations
of his mind in the manner aforesaid, never-
theless there is commonly danger and dis-
appointment attending such a construction
of scripture in ordinary atfairs ; for we need
no new revelation to point out the path of
dut}^, the scriptures being sufficient for such
a purpose, and a more sure word of proph-
ecy than any thing referred to above. A
criminal curiosity to pry into, or sinful anx-
iety to know future events, the Lord in
mercy may reprove in his people, by dis-

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HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

appointments. The design of the promises
ol' God is to encourage faith and hope in
tlie Lord, tliat he will provide what he sees
necessary lor, and give what is good to
those who fear him ; but not to mal<e a pre
vious discover^' in what munner he will sup
port and supply. Even Moses, the man of
God, seems to have been mistaken in re
gard to the time when, and the means by
which the Lord intended to accomplish the
deliverance of his people Irom the bondage
of Egypt ; for when he defended the injur-
ed Israelite, and avenged him that was op-
pressed, he supposed his brethren would
have understood how that God by his hand
would have delivered them, but they un-
derstood not ; Acts, vii. 25. And instead
of his being then embraced as a dehverer,
he was informed against, and banished as
a delinquent. He continued in a state of
exile ibr forty years ; and afterwards, when
the Lord sent him from Midian to Pharaoh,
to demand in his name Israel's release, in-
stead of deliverance, their bondage was in-
creased, and his conduct they severely cen-
sured ; on which account he returned unto
the Lord, and said, " Lord, wherefore hast
thou so evil entreated this people? Why
is it thou hast sent me ? For since I came
to Pharaoh to speak in thy name, he hath
done evil to this people ; neither hast thou
delivered thy people at all ;" Exod. v. 21 —
23. And when providences turned up con-
trary to what Jeremiah expected, he in the
bitterness of his soul uttered these awful
words: "O Lord, thou hast deceived me,
and I was deceived." Jer. xx. 7. From
the above instances it is evident that per-
sons may be in some cases disappointed in
their most sanguine expectations in regard
to the dispensations of God in this lite, and
yet the foundation of their hope remain un-
shaken in reference to eternal salvation.
May Christians be cautious, and not use
the word of the Lord in such a manner,
and for such purposes, as were never in-
tended ! To interpret the designs of God.
from detached sentences, either impressed
on the mind, or as first presented to the eye
on opening the sacred volume, is very inju-
dicious, and has an entangling tendency ;
therefore, as the apostle says, " We do not
cease to pray for you, and to desire that ye
miight be filled -with the knowledge of his
will in all wisdom and spiritual widersland-
ingy Col. i. 9. In order to which may
you be enabled to compare spiritual things
with spiritual; 1 Cor. ii. 13. Col. iii. 1(3.
" Let the word of Christ dwell in you in all
wisdom."

May we all consider that the mistakes of
eminent saints are recorded, not for our
imitation, but our admonition, arid to pre-
vent overwhelming despondency on view-
ing our own mistakes, and to show the ne-

cessity of a strict careful examination of
ourselve.s, fervent application to God, an
humble dependence on him, connected with
cheerful obedience to him, and a patient
waiting for him. " For whatsoever tilings
were written aforetime, were written for
our learning; that we, tlirough patience
and comfort of the scriptures, might have
hope." Rom. xv. 4.

PART III.

PRACTICAL DIFFICULTIES.

[There are several stumbling-blocks in the
way of Zion's travellers, which are more
properly classed under the head of " prac-
tical difficulties" than under either of the
preceding ; viz. such as arise out of the
sinful conduct of professors of religion,
the enmity of the world, and the heresies
of false religionists. These impediments
in tlte way to heaven will now be briefly
considered.]

CHAPTER I.
Sins of Professors.

The disposition and conduct of some
professors of religion is very stumbling to
serious inquirers after the way in which
they should walk.

First; A proud censorious spirit, con-»
demning the weak as worthless, and treat-
ing inferiors with an air of contempt, is
very trying and discouraging. But who
hatli despised the day of small things?
God does not, therefore men ought not ;
and it is certain a humble Christian cannot.
Let the Aveak and discouraged Christian-
contemplate the compassionate Saviour,'
who will not break the bruised reed, nor
quench the smoking flax. The lambs he
will lay in his bosom, and gently lead those
that are with young, and to them who have
no might he will increase strength ; the
strongest believer was once ababe in Christ;
the tallest cedar once was not superior to
the lowest shrub ; and the stoutest oak
was once in as tender a state as a feeble
straw. How unreasonable then to despise
the weak, seeing those who have arrived
lo the highest eminence in religion, in what-
ever sense they may be said to be great,
yet their beginnings were but small. Those,
therefore, who are strong, ought to bear the
infirmities of the weak, and not to please
themselves. Support the weak, is the Lord's

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

101

express command. Hence, says the apos-
tle, " let us not therefore judge one another
any more, but judge this rather, that no
man put a stumbHng-block, or an occasion
to fall, in his brother's way." Rom. xv. 13.
Secondly ; Loose professors are extreme-
ly pernicious; of such the apostle spake
with weeping, and pronounced them ene-
mies to the cross of Christ. By them saints
are discouraged and sinners hardened ;
through them the good ways of God are
evil spoken of, and religion reproached, the
righteous traduced, and the name of the
Lord blasphemed. When professors fall
into sin, the cry of the profane is. This is
their religion. But ihe established Chris-
tian with sigliing says ; No, such miscar-
riages are owing to its absence. But weak
believers are not only grieved, but silenced
and confounded : and when those who are
eminent for God are overcome by the de-
ceitfulness of sin or the violence of tempta-
tion, Christians in general are alai'med, as
when a standard-bearer faintetla ; and some
are thereby for a time so discouraged, that
they dare not profess religion, fearing they
should likewise act an unbecoming part,
and deeper wound its reputation. Thus
they linger, though they love, not daring to

Eroceed for fear of falling. Others, to avoid
eing sharers in reproach, sigh and go back-
wards into a state of pretended neutrality.
Again, some notorious transgressors, term-
ed sinneTS in Zion, when reproved ibr tlieir
sins, and admonished according to Christ's
direction given in the scriptures, and espe-
cially such as are excluded from church
communion on account ol" their abomina-
tions, will, from a spirit of revenge, join
affinity with the world, and Satan like, turn
accusers of the brethren with whom they
were connected, and of whom they will
speak all manner of evil. Such impenitent
apostates, stooping to the low office of cooks
in the devil's kitchen, will frequently dress
up the imperfections of professors of reli-
gion, so as to gratify the taste of the un-
godly, to whom the sins of the saints afford
high entertainment, and on which the pro-
fane frequently feast with sweet satisfaction,
as saith the Lord ; " They eat up the sin
of my people, and they set their heart on
their iniquity." Hos. iv. 8, 9. In conse-
quence of which those Avho sigh for the
abounding abominations of the land, and
are active for God in Zion, become the de-
rision of fools, and the song of the drunk-
ards; on which account they frequently
adopt David's lamentation, who on the like
occasion said ; " Woe is me, that I sojourn
in Mesech, that I dwell in the tents of Ke-
dar." Psalm cxx. 5.

Such things, it is confessed, are very
trying; but shall religion be deserted be-

cause it is dishonored? No, God forbid j
the Lord's cause is good and honorable.
Christ and religion are no worse for being
betrayed, denied, or misused. Shall the
rebellion of some be urged in favor of dis-
loyalty to our heavenly Sovereign ? Ought
we to be inactive because others are indo-
lent? Or resolve not to be true, because
they are treacherous ? When Christ was
deserted by various pretended friends, he
addressed his few remaining followers thus :
" Will ye also go away ?" To which Peter
replied in the name of the rest ; '• Lord, to
whom should we go ? thou hast the words
of eternal life." May every lover of Jesus
be in like manner resolved to adhere to him !
How rational the resolution ! How becom-
ing the determination in every point of
view ! For Jesus is possessed of every
thing relating to eternal life : he, and he
only, can satisfy and save the immortal soul.
Is sin dreaded as aforesaid ? Let such con-
sider which is the most likely method to be
kept from its prevalency. Surely those
whose daily cry is. Hold me up and then I
shall be safe, cannot with calmness con-
clude, that those are most likely to be heard
of God and kept from sin who disregard
his authority, and live in the neglect of du-
ty. A prevailing sense of weakness is no
indication of danger ; no, pride goeth be-
fore destruction, and a haughty spirit before
a fall. The Christian ought to consider,
the fewer they are that engage heartily in
the cause of real religion, and the greater
the opposition made to it, the more is his
assistance needed. May such resolve " to
go in the strength of the Lord God, making
mention of his righteousness, and of his
only." Though you proceed witli tremb-
ling steps, the Lord can make you say and
sing with holy triumph, " The bows of the
mighty men are broken, and they that stum-
bled are girt with strength." "The God
of Israel is he that giveth strength and
power unto his people ; blessed be God."
1 Sam. ii. 4. Psalm Ixviii. 35. Those who
continue cool spectators, caring for none of
these things, would do well to consider that
the Lord allows of no neutrality in the im-
portant and perpetual contest between the
kingdom of Heaven and that of hell, but
says, " He that is not for us, is against us."
He abhors a state of indifference in matters
of religion. " I would," says he, " thou
wert cold or hot ; so then because thou art
lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will
spew thee out of my mouth." Rev. iii. 15,
16. How alarming the language in Debo-
rah's song respecting those of the afore-
said disposition and conduct! "Curse ye
Meroz (said the angel of die Lord,) curse
ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof, because
they came not to the help of the Lord, to

102

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

the help of the Lord aE^ainst the mipfhty."
Judges, V. 23. May llie supine Clirislian
hear aiid fear I

CHAPTER II.

Enmity of the World.

Some are stumbled on account of the
cross, or the reproach and persecution at-
tending religion. A prospect of sutVering
\\\ their persons, projierty, or cliaractci', is
grievous to nature and trying to grace. In
regard to rcj)ruaches Ironi men, we may
observe, those who do not deserve them,
need not dread them. " II' ye be reproach-
ed ibr the name of Christ, liappy are ye,
for the spirit of glory and of God rcsteth
upon you ; on tlicir part he is evil spolcen
of, but on your part he is glorified." 1 Pet.
iv. 14. '• Cruel mockings. reproaches, and
persecutions" (Heb. xi. 36, 38) have been
the lot of the righteous in every age, who
are generally called to endure a great fight
of afflictions as soon as they are illuminated,

Eartly whilst they are made a gazing-stock,
oth by reproaches and afflictions, and
partly whilst they become companions of
thcni who are so used. Heb. x. 33. " If
any man will live godly in Christ Jesus,
he must sutler persecution ; for as of old,
he tliat was born after the flesh lerse-
cuted him that Avas born atler the Spirit,
even so it is now." Gal. iv. 29. But al-
though such treatment is very trying, yet
consider how^ much more dreadful arc the
frowns of God and the stings of conscience.
Jehovah's smiles will compensate lor, and
infinitely outweigh the revilings of men, or
the rage of the devil; yet a little Avhile,
and the wicked shall cease from troubling,
and the weary shall be at rest. "Heark-
en unto me (saith the Lord,) ye tliat know
righteousness, the people in whose heart is
my law. Fear ye not the reproach of men,
neither be ye afraid of their revilings, for
the moth shall eat them up like a garment,
and the worm shall eat them like wool ;
but my righteousness shall be tor ever, and
my salvation from generation to genera-
tion." Isaiah, Iviii. 7, 8. Attend, O dis-
couraged Christian, to the Saviour's cheer-
ing language. He says, " Blessed are ye
wlien men shall hate you, nnd wlien tliey
shall separate you from their company, and
shall reproach you, and cast out your name
as evil, for the Son of man's sake. Rejoice
and leap for joy ; for behold your reward is
great in heaven." Luke, vi. 22. Accord-
ingly we find the apostles " rejoiced that
they were comited wortliy to suffer shame
for his name's sake ;" " therefore (says
Paul) I take pleasure in infirmities, in re
preaches, in ncceseities. in distresses, for

Christ's sake ; for when I am weak, then
am I strong." 2 Cor. xii. 10. Wherefore
let no man's heart fail him because of these
things, nor be discouraged because of" the
way : the Lord is able to make you rejoice
in tribulation, through which you must en-
ter the kingdom, and at last will crown
your conflicts with victory, and turn your
pensive sighs into perpetual songs. Keep
in view the blessed Jesus as your pattern,
who, when he was reviled, reviled not
again ; return not railing for railings, but
pity and pray for them who despitefully use
you and persecute you, saying, Father, for-
give them, for tjiey know not what they do.
Take care you are neither ashamed of re-
ligion, nor a shame to it; therefore in all
things be ye circumspect, consider him
that endured such contradiction of sinners
against him.self, lest ye be wearied and iaint
in your minds. As he through the hope
set before him endured the cross, and des-
pised the shame, (Heb. xii.) tlierelbre arm
yourself likewise with the same mind; H
Pet. iv. ],) and having put on the whole
armor of God, stand fast in tlie faith, quit
yourselves like men, be strong in the name
of the Lord, lift up your banners, and fight
the good fight of faith. The heroic Paul,
when he rcconnoitered the host of invete-
rate foes, and viewed surrounding difficult-
ies and approaching dangers, said, " None
of these things move me, neither count I
my life dear unto myself, so that I might
finish my cour.se with joy;" and W'hen
methods of prudence were proposed by his
vi^eeping friends, to aviod impending dan-
ger, he, considering tlie advice inconsist-
ent with Christian duty and dignit})-, replied
with warmth and holy vehemence, " What
mean ye to weep, and break mine heart?
tor I am readj^ not to be bound only, but
also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the
Lord Jesus." Acts, xx. 24 ; xxi. 13 ; 2 Cor.
iv. 17. His heavy trials, which continued
through life, he considered as light and
short, when compared with the durable de-
lights in a future world, even a far more
exceeding and eterncil weight of glory.
Then those who have faithfully followed
the Lord through difficulties, dangers, and
death, Avill meet with peculiar approbation
and distinguished honors ; then tlie Cap-
tain of our salvation shall recount his worth-
ies ; Nahum, ii. 5 ; Rev. vii. 14 ; wlio will
appear with the ensigns of victory and the
trophies of triumph in the new Jerusalem,
of whom the applauding inhabitants will
with joy sing. These are they which came
ont of great tribulation. Then the trial of
your faith will be found more precious than
gold which perisheth. The believing He-
brews therefore took jojiully the spoiling
of their goods, knowing that in heaven
they had a more enduring s\ibstance ; and

HELP TO Z ION'S TKAVELLERS.

103

Moses chose to suffer affliction with the
people of God, esteeming the reproach of
Christ greater riches than the treasures of
Egypt : for he had respect unto the recom-
pense of reward. James, v. 11. " Behold,
we count them happy who endure ;" " for
in due time ye sliall reap, ii' ye faint not;"
'• therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye
steadfast, unmoveable, always abounding
in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye
know that your labor is not in vain in the
Lord." 1 Cor. xv. 58.

CHAPTER III.
Errors of False Religionists.

[The errors of false religionists are of
two kinds, speculative and practical ; and
when the former are cherished they infalli-
bly produce the latter.

First ; Speculative errors present difficult-
ies.] Some are prevented attending to
practical rehgion, by being told believers
are not in any sense under the law. By
the law we are frequently to understand
the covenant of works, or that compact
and agreement which a God of kindness
and condescension made witli Adam, as the
public head and representative of his off-
spring. Adam was under a natural and
nexessary obligation to obey liis Maker's
will, and was absolutely dependent on God's
sovereign pleasure for the continuance of
his happy existence. A right to everlast-
ing life he could never have procured by
his most ardent affection and strict obedi-
ence to God and his law; the Lord there-
fore kindly connected the promise of life
with man's natural duty, and threatened
death in case of failure. Thus Adam's
motives to obedience were increased, being
made a trustee for his numerous descend-
ants. In that covenant a small and easy
test of his subjection to God was fixed
upon. Nothing more than a prohibition of
one tree, wliile the vast and various produc-
tions in the garden of God were hberaily
granted for his pleasure and profit. In the
midst of which likewise flourished that
whicii was an emblem and pledge of the
promi-sed blessing, called 7V/e 7'/'te of Lifi;^
which would serve to confirm his taith ui
his covenant God, and invigorate his hope,
that his obedience might be secured, in or-
der to the enjoyment of the gracious re-
ward, and that he might escape the threat-
ened punishment. But, alas ! notwithstand-
ing the said agreement was so advantag-
eous in its nature, it was broken by our
tirst parent, whereby all right to life, on
the footing of law. was for ever forfeited,

according to that covenant ; and death, the
threatened penalty, was incurred, not only
respecting his own person, but his posteri-
ty also. " Wherefore, as by one man sin
entered into the world, and death by sin,
so death passed upon all, lor that all have
sinned." Rom. v. 12. Through the of-
fence of one many be dead, v. 15 ; lor by
one man's offence death reigned. By the
offence of one, judgment came upon all
men ; tor by one man's disobedience, many
were made sinners ; v. 16 to 19. The apos-
tle proves there was a covenant or law be-
fore that given by Moses, according to
which the whole human race were under
the sentence of condemnation; for until the
law (given on Mount Sinai) sin was in the
world ; but sin is not imputed where there
is no law. Nevertheless, death reigned
from Adam to Moses, even over them that
had not sinned after the similitude of Adam's
transgression; Rom. v. 13, 14. The law of
Moses was not given that sinners miglit ob-
tain life byit; for by the law is the knowledge
of sin ; Rom. iii. 20. It was added because
of transgressions, (Gal. iii. 19,) that the of-
fence might abound, (Rom. v. 20,) that ev-
ery mouth may be stopped, and the whole
world may become guilty before God ;
therefore by the deeds of the law, there
shall no flesti be justified hi his sight. Rom.
in. 19, 20. That no man is justified by the
law in the sight of God is evident ; for the
just siiall live by his faith, and the law is
not of faith, but tlie man that doth them
shall live in them. Gal. iii. 11. 12. But
whosoever shall keep the whole law, and
yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all.
James, ii. 10 ; for considering the law as a
covenant, one sin destroys a title to legal
life, and exposes the guilty to its awful pen-
alty : for as many as are of the works of
the law, are under the curse ; for it is writ-
ten. Cursed is every one that continuelh
not in all things which are written in the
hook of the law to do them. Gal. iii. 10 ;
Deut. xxvii. 26. Believers, therefore, are
not inidcr the law as a covenant ; their ex-
pectation of, and right to, eternal life, does
not rise from their personal obedience, nor
is their hope of freedom from punishment
luunded on any compensation wliich tliey
have made or can make for their crimes ;
through Christ they are dead to the law as
promising life, or punishing with death ;
they are neither under its promise nor its
penalty: their covenant comiection with
the law is dissolved, and a marriage to
Christ commenced, that they might bring
forth fruit unto God. Sec Rom. vii. verse
1 to 7. That real believers are not under
the laic, hat under grace, is an undeniable
truth. But it is equally evident, thcij are
not vrithout law to God, but under the lave

1U4

HELP TO ZIOiN'S TRAVELLERS.

to Christ. That there is no contradiction
in these scriptural propositions will appear,
it" we consider the Ibllowing things :

First ; That by tlie term law, we are to
understiind the rule of moral, and likewise
positive obedience. Moral obedience aris-
eth from our natural connection with God,
(as the Author of our existence,) and with
our fellow-creatures, and consisteth in su-
preme love to God, and an equal love to our
neighbor as to ourselves ; so that the whole
law is comprehended in love. Moral com-
mands arise from, and are founded on, the
natural propriefy and fitness of things, and
theretbreare bindingonallrational creatures
in this world and that Avhich is to come.
Whilst the relation continues between the
Creator and his creatures, their obligation to
love him as their chief good, and to live to his
honor as their ultimate end, can never
cease ; the law, therefore, by which such
love and obedience are entorced, cannot
possibly vary. Jehovah does not demand
our highest love merely because of his au-
thority over us, but because of his own
infinite excellency and relation to us. He
does not become the only proper object of
our supreme love because he hath com-
manded us so to love him, but his being the
only Jit object of our superlative affection
is the reason why he reqviires it. The moral
law does not make any duty fitting and
proper, but declares and requires what is
BO. Moral commands, tlaerefbre, differ
from,

Secondly, positive appointments ; the lat-
ter arise simply from the will of God, and
are therefore alterable in their nature, being
altogether dependent on his pleasure and
sovereign determination ; the propriety of
moral obedience, the light ot natLire or
riglit reason may discover. But no idea
can be formed of positive obedience, but in
consequence of Divine revelation ; the for-
mer is due from every creature, whether
angelic or human ; the subjects of the lat-
ter are particularly described in the holy
scriptures. Thus the Avhole code of cere-
monial laws was confined to Israel, as a
shadow of good things to come, and was
done away in Christ, who was the substance
which these laws tended to exhibit, and the
end in which they terminated. But the
moral law ever was, and ever will be,
equally binding on all : it being the rule of
thtit love and obedience which Jews and
Gentiles naturally owe to Jehovah, the su-
preme good and tbuntain of existence ; and
to each other, considered as his offspring.
Notwithstanding the ceremonial law under
the Old Testament was accomplished in
Christ, and done away by his death, he
then, as it were, nailing it to his cross, yet
many Jews who believed in Jesus continued
much attached to the ehadow, though the

substance was come. The apostles, there-
fore, labored to prove the abrogation of that
law by which those ceremonial observances
became binding on the church of God, in
the former dispensation. These appoint-
ments had been revered and justly esteem-
ed, and they were to Israel very beneficial
lor two purposes : to humble them under a
sense of pollution and guilt, and liability to
punishment, according to the tenor of the
covenant of works, to which they had a
retrospect view ; and to direct their faith
and hope to the appointed Saviour and
promised Messiah. The law was therelbre
to them as a school-master unto Christ.
But after Christ was come, they were no
longer under a school-master. Gal. iii. 24,
25. Those painful and tedious appoint-
ments becoming unprofitable, the great
apostle labored to convince these Judaizing
believers, that they were not under that
law. They were under no law as giving a
tide to salvation ; for if there had been a
law given, (of any kind,) which could have
given life, verily, righteousness should have
been by the law; (Gal. iii. 21;) and the
gospel J w^ould have been overturned, and
the death of Christ quite unnecessary.
With gr^eat difficulty were the Jews brought
off from the ceremonial observances in the
days of the apostles ; therefore, those in-
spired penmen, in speaking of the church
of Chri.st as delivered from the law, and
those tedious, painful, and now unprofitable
appointments, which were abrogated and
done away, make use of the most contemp-
tuous terms when speaking of the subject ;
calling them beggarly elements, carnal or-
dinances, &c. But the duties of the moral
law are enforced by the strongest motives.
In that law Paul delighted after the inner
man ; and the charge of making it void
through the faith of the gospel he denies
with holy vehemence, and rejects Uie very
idea with indignation. Do we then make
void the law through faith ? God forbid :
Yea, we establish the law. Rom. iii. 31.
See a sermon on this text, by the Rev. C.
EvATvs, entitled, The Law established by
the Gospel ; Dr. Gill on the Law in the
Hand of Christ ; and Mr. Booth's Death
of Legal Hope, &c.*

Thirdly ; From the universal extent of
the moral law, the apostle proves that Gen-
tiles as well as Jews were tmder sin, and

■ The ordinances of baptism and tlie Lord's supper
arc of a positive nature, and dependent entirely on the
will of God, as revealed in the scriptures of truth ; there
the suhjects are delineated, tlie manners of administra-
tion pointed out and illustrated, the end and design of
each ordinance e.vplained, and their duration in the
church till the second coming of Christ, abundantly
confirmed. The moral law, though distinct from, yet is
connected with, and runs through every positive institu-
tion; whereby obedience to them is enforced on all
those who are described as proper subjects, which be-
lievcrb Would do well to consider.

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

105

therefore exposed to punishment; that a'
title to Ufa could not arise from, or spring
out of human obedience, because, according
to the rule of righteousness, every one is
found culpable. Being, therefore, con-
demned for dispositions and acts contrary
to law, consequently by the deeds of the
law no flesh living could be justified : a be-
liever's title to life, and exemption from
punishment, springing from another source.
Therefore, such are said not to be under
the law, but under the administration of
grace ; for the law is the ministration of
death to every transgressor, and by it
indignation and wrath, tribulation and an-
guish are denounced against every soul of
man that doth evil, of the Jew first, and
also of the Gentile. But our dear Imman-
uel having fulfilled its precepts and endured
its penalty in favor of his people, has there-
by delivered them from deserved pvmish-
ment, and given them a right to life, found-
ed on his infinite merits. Believers are
therefore delivered from the law as a cove-
nant From it life is not expected by them,
nor by it death inflicted upon them as afore-
said, because they are not under the law,
but under the powerful influences, encour-
aging promises, and copious blessings of
grace. However they do not, they cannot
from thence infer, that their obligation to
love and obey God is thereby diminished,
but on the contrary, infinitely increased.

If any, professing godliness, deny the
law of the Lord as the rule of obedience,
charity obliges us to hope their meaning is
injudiciously expressed ; for some people's
words and ideas are extremely unsociable.
and keep at a vast distance, and differ so
much, that a reconciliation is scarcely ever
expected. But those who deliberately
maintain believers are not binder the Jaw as
a rule of life, and act from such a princi-
ple, give full evidence that they are grossly
ignorant of (not to say at enmity with) the
nature of God, his government, and gos-
pel. A more pernicious sentiment, or a
greater absurdity, was never invented, than
the aforesaid Antinomian tenet. It tends
to destroy every idea of good and evil, of
right and wrong, by denying the existence
or use of that by which the nature of
thoughts and actions is tried and discov-
ered. It renders believers incapable of
sorrowing for sin, eitlier as in or done by
themselves or other Christians. For where
there is no law, there is no transgression.
It makes penitence an infaUible mark of
impiety, and delight in the law of God a
delusion ; it tends ' to prevent a believer
from praying for Divine direction ; because,
however he wander, he is never wrong, nor
ever in danger of stepping aside out of the
path of duty, being not obliged to walk in
any. A beUever must not pray to be kept

Vol. 3.— N.

from evil; lest it grieve him, for sin he
cannot, do what he may, sin being a trans-
gression of the law. Nor can he ask God
to forgive him his debt, being confident he
does not owe his Lord one farthing. What-
ever may have been the case heretofore, he
being now a lawless person, no demand
can be made upon him. In a word, Anti-
nomianism teaches a believer neither to
fear God nor to regard man ; for, according
to it, he cannot be guilty of offending the
one nor of injuring the other ; for as there
is no law, cruelty is not prohibited, nor
kindness required ; but truth and treachery,
profanity and piety, love and hatred, are
equally agreeable in believers.

" But, brethren, ye have not so learned
Christ, if so be that ye have heard him, and
been taught of him as the truth is in Jesus."
Eph. iv. 20, 2L You will not only rejoice
in your relation to the Lord, but each be-
liever ought to consider himself as under
infinite obligation to love him, to obey him,
and to adhere to him, becoming the nature
of his connections with him, even as a sub-
ject to a sovereign; (] Thes. ii. 12; Col. i.
10 — 13;) a spouse to her husband; ^Eph.
V. 23, 29 ;) a soldier to his general ; (2
Tim. ii. 3;) a servant to his master; (1
Pet. ii. 16 ; Rom. vi. 16 — 22 ;) and as a
child to a tender compassionate parent.
Be ye, therefore, followers of God as dear
children. Eph. v. i. " We beseech you,
brethren, and exhort you by the Lord Jesus,
that as ye have received of us how you
ought to walk, and to please God, so ye
will abound more and more," knowing that
the law is good, if a man use it lawfully.
1 The^. iv. 1 ; 1 Tim. 1. 8. " For this is a
faithful saying. That they which have be-
lieved in God should be careful to maintain
good works. These things are good and
profitable to men." Tit. iiL 8. " And let
every one that nameth the name of Christ
depart from iniquity." 2 Tim. ii. 29. Noth-
ing is more evident than that believers are
not under the covenant of works, but under
grace. But what then ? Shall we sin be-
cause we are not under the law, but under
grace? God forbid ! Rom. vi. 15.

Secondly. [Practical errors present hin-
derances. First ;] Though darkness and
doubts respecting the moral law be removed,
others are stumbled in respect of the Lord's
positive appointments ; partly through the
neglects of some, and the contemptuous
manner in which others treat the sacred
ordinances of the gospel, Avho are notwith-
standing had in reputation for religion.
Young Christians are commonly much in-
fluenced by those they value and have a
veneration for; and, therefore, wlien they
observe such who have long known and
loved the Lord, living in the neglect of gos-
pel ordinances, they are ready to conclude,

106

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

that for them to take the lead of such emi-
nent Christians would be rash and precipi-
tate ; and have the appearance of pride and
ipresumption. They, therefore, through
lalse modesty, or real fear, keep back from
telling what God has done for their souls,
and making a visible profession of Christ
in his solemn appointments. By delays,
their zeal for Christ and the love of their
espousals are greatly abated, and then ob-
jections in abundance arise against its being
their particular duty on account of not hav-
ing such a hvely frame of mind as is
thought necessary for such solemn proceed-
ings. Thus, through their neglects, others
are discouraged and prevented bearing a
testimony for Jesus, as he has directed those
that love him should.

For the relief, direction, and animation
of such discouraged believers, I would pro-

{)ose to their serious consideration the fol-
owing things :

First ; the kindness of Christ in abolish-
ing the vast number of ceremonial obser-
vances which were binding upon the church
in the Mosaic dispensation, and which were
to Israel difficult, painful, and very expen-
sive, called theretore a yoke of bondage ;
and as he has appointed only two positive
ordinances to be observed by his followers
under the gospel, viz : Baptism and the
Lord's Supper, how ungrateful is it to re-
fuse obedience or a compliance with what
is so mild, so merciful, when compared with
what he made the indispensable duty of
those whose privileges were inexpressibly
inierior to yours !

Secondly ; Though inquiring Christians
ought to regard tlie conduct ol' others, and
are directed to go by the footsteps of the
Jiock, and to be Ibllowers of them, who
through faith and patience inherit the pro-
mises, yet none are to be imitated further
than they are followers of Christ, however
eminent they are or may appear to be.
The more eminent a man is for piety and
talents, the more pernicious is his example
when he is remiss in, or forsakes the path
of duty. Perhaps some would have remon-
strated against the detestable contrivance
to change Jehovah's glory into the simili-
tude of an ox, had not Aaron, the saint of
God and priest of the Most High, entered
deep into the design. But as things were,
the people acquiesced witii pleasure, and
danced for joy. Had their elevation been
a sure sign ot God's approbation, all would
have been well ; for the congregation had
a very comfortable time, a delightful op-
portunity, till tliey were interrupted by Mo-
ses, who, though naturally weak, yet re-
buked the transgressors with pungent
severity. Dead flies cause the ointment of
the apothecary to send forth a stinking
aavor, t,o doth a Uttle folly him that is in

reputation for wisdom and honor. Ec. x. 1.
Therefore call no man master on earth, re-
lating to sacred things. It is the example
and authorit)' of Christ, your Master in
heaven, who is Zion's King, which yon are
conscientiously to regard. You oUght to
love and respect all that love Jesus, bat at
the same time consider you serve the Lord
Christ. And it is to your own Master you
stand or fall. To him only are you accoun-
table. None can prove they have a dispen-
sation granted under his hand for the neglect
or changing any of his appointments ; and
indeed none to plead for the power of grant-
ing indulgences in his name, save the man
of sin, and those delegated by him. But
even supposing others to have obtained
such a dispensation, what proof can be
given that yoic are included in the grant ?
Stand not, therefore, O believer, waiting to
see what this or the other good man may
resolve to do, nor perplex your mind about
Christ's conduct to them. Think of Christ's
reply to Peter when he was so inquisitive
about his brother John, saying, " Lord, what
shall this man do ?" How keen, and yet how
kind was the Redeemer's answer to the im-
pertinent querist ! " If I will that he tarry
till I come, liTiat is that to thee ? follow thou
me.'''' John xxi. 22.

Thirdly ; Consider, the Divine authority
is not to be trifled Avith. Two sons of Aaron
were struck dead for daring to deviate from
the Lord's command. And Moses, the
man of God, had like to have lost his life
through his postponing a matter of duty,
probably in compliance with the solicita-
tions of his spouse. Perhaps you may be
told by some, that an attendance to such
appointments is unnecessary, as tliey are
not saving ordinances. It might not be
amiss to inquire of such people, What are
saving ordmances ? Where are they to be
found ? If none are saving, then, according
to tlie objection, none ought to be attended
to. No works of righteousness should be
performed, because salvation is not of works,
but of grace. It is astonisliing such a
mongrel maxim should ever be used by
those who abhor Antinomian liberty, and
Arminian legality, seeing the nature of
both are therein united. It is the genuine
ofl'spring of those two very opposite and
equally absurd sentiments. Has Jesus in
very deed lost all his authority, that his
appointments should sink into insignifican-
cy? and has Christ done so little for his
people, that they are under no manner of
obligation, out of gratitude, to act for him?
Has the love of Jesus lost its constraining
influence? And ought Christians to be
really indifferent about serving God any
further than they can merit by it?

Is the dying request of dear friends usu-
ally regarded by the surviving relativee?

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS,

107

And shall not our best friend, our dear dy-
ing Immanuel, be listened to with cordial
aftection, when he appointed the ordinance
of the Supper, saying, " This do in remem-
brance of me !" Afterwards he sent from
heaven, by the apostle Paul, a renewal of
his request to the churches. See 1 Cor. xi.
23. His ordinances are his palaces where
he shows his glory, and feasts with his peo-

Sle, saying, "Eat, O friends, drink, yea,
rink abundantly, O beloved." Come for-
ward, then, ye friends of Jesus, follow his
example, and receive the land memorials of
his love.

Secondly; Divine requirements being
superior to the ability of men in their pres-
ent fallen condition, have been exceedingly
perplexing to many ; especially such as
leel themselves without strength, which
the scriptures declare them to be for whom
Christ died, (Rom. v, 6,) and to whom he
says. Without me ye can do nothing ; John,
XV. 5 ; whose experience of their utter ina-
bility and absolute dependence on the Lord
coincides with what the apostle expresses
concerning himself and his brethren, who
were even able ministers of the New Tes-
ment. Their language is, Who is sufficient
for these things? 2 Cor. ii. 16.

We are not sufficient of ourselves to
think any thing as of ourselves, but our
sufficiency is of God. 2 Cor. iii. 5, 6.
From a consciousness of personal inability,
joined with a conviction of their absolute
and necessary obligation to obedience, arise
various difficulties relating to the equity of
God in requiring that of his creatures
which he knows and declares is not in their
power to perform. To assert and maintain
that men have an inherent power to turn to
God and embrace the gospel, and glorify
him in a course of holy obedience to his
law, without the infusion of supernatural
principles, is to oppose the positive declara-
tions of God's word respecting the necessity
of regeneration, and the impossibility of
those who are in the flesh doing any thing
pleasing and acceptable to God. See Rom.
viii. 5, 8. But those who oppose the doc-
trine of free grace are constrained to plead
for the power of man to love and obey God,
representing men's inability as absolutely
inconsistent with scriptural commands and
exhortations to obedience and faith ; these,
on the one hand, declaim with an air of^
triumph on the absurdity of .supposing God
to require impossibilities ; in which those
heartily concur who hold the truth in un-
righteousness, and represent men as quite
blameless, though disobedient, because
they have no power of themselves to obey.
Various methods have been taken to apolo
gize for man's imperfections, and extenuate
his guilt. As men are naturally disaffected
to God, it is no wonder thev should enrloav-

or to new model his government according
to their different inclinations, in order to
keep conscience easy, and support a pleas-
ing expectation of future happiness without
holiness ; or being beholden to his clemency
and grace. Every opposition to the gos-
pel, every false scheme of divinity, agree
in supposing the law of God naturally too
severe ; and that it ought to be, if possible,
accommodated, and rendered agreeable to
men's present condition ; though they great-
ly differ as to the manner how it may be
accomplished. And those who think the
law of God cannot be altered or explained
so as to .suit the carnal mind, and having an
equal aversion to internal purity as to the
law which requires it, therefore plead for an
exemption and total deliverance from its
hateful authority, esteeming it a peculiar
privilege to settle if possible in the province
of Antinomianism ; a state so far from God,
that the wretched inhabitants suppose his
dominion does not extend to them. All false
systems unite in proof of one important truth,
which is, that till God's law be approved of,
as just in all its demands and awful denun-
ciations, the gospel will never be properly
understood and cordially embraced ; which
the following brief remarks may perhaps
Rofficiently evince, as well as prepare the
way to a solution of the difficulty in ques-
tion.

First; Some confidently assert that on
the failure of man in his obedience, the per-
fections of God obliged him to alter the
constitution of his government so far, as
that there was no need at all of Christ's
death to procure an exemption from punish-
ment. That repentance and pardon are
connected by the law of natural equity.
That Christ came not to make a reconciha-
tion for iniquity, but only as a pattern of
acceptable obedience, and to confirm his
doctrine by sealing it with his blood. But,
in confirmation of the truth for which he
was condemned, Christ could have prayed
to his Father, who would have sent more
than twelve legions of angels to have deli-
vered him from death. But how then (said
he) should the scriptures be fulfilled, that
thus it must be, (Matt. xxvi. 53, 54,) for
without shedding of blood there is no re-
mission. Heb. ix. 22. Admitting Christ
came only as an example, will it not follow
that the law which he came to obey re-
quired purity of nature and perfect obedi-
ence ; seeing our pattern was the subject of
both ? If the law did not require perfect
obedience, but repentance was substituted
and accepted in its stead, and Christ came
to set us an example hoio we might obtain
salvation ; is it not natural to infer, that in
order to his being a proper pattern to us
for such a purpose and end, he should have
been deficient in his obedience, and the sub-

108

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

ject of sincere repentance? and thtis have
demonstrated for our encouragement and
imitation, that though he was imperfect as
we are, yet by being penitent, he obtained
forgiveness of all his imperfections. This
scheme, it must be acknowledged, so far as
relates to acceptance with God, entirely ex-
cludes the necessity of Christ; he being
neither a proper pattern to show men how
they might obtain salvation, nor its procur-
ing author. However by such a rejection
of Jesus the scriptures are fulfilled, which
eay, If there had been a law which could
have given life, verily righteousness had
been by the law. Gal. hi. 21. And if
righteousness came by the law, then Christ
is dead in vain. Gal. ii. 21. If the death
of Christ was entirely in vain, his laying
down his life, when there was no need for
it, cannot be deemed an example worthy of
our imitation ; for no man, however heroic,
has a right to throw away his life to no
purpose. So far from its being virtuous,
such conduct would not only be imprudent,
but extremely sinful. Can we suppose
Christ came into our world on a needless
errand, and shed his blood in vain 7 Yet
shocking as the supposition is, it must be
granted, as an established fact, if tliere
was any law existing which could have
given life. For nothing could be more evi-
dent, than that if men could have answered
the demands of the law, there would have
been no need of the obedience and death of
Jesus, according to the reasoning of the
great apostle, whose judgment in divinity
few will care to dispute. This system,
therefore, tends to embarrass, instead of
solving the question, respecting the equity
of God in requiring that of his creatures
which they are now unable to perform.

Secondly ; Some suppose the difficulty
would be removed if it might be allowed
that Christ by his death procured or en-
gaged the Father's love to sinners, so far
as to obtain a relaxation of that law under
which they originally were, and establish
a milder system of government suited to
the condition of his rebellious subjects.
But this plea is quite inadmissible, because
the love of God, from which salvation
springs, was the cause of Christ's coming
to die for transgressors. " God so loved the
world, that he gave his only begotten Son."
John, iii. 16. '• In this was manifested the
love of God towards us, that God sent his
Son into the world, that we might live
through him." John. iv. 9. " Hereby we
perceive the love of God, because he laid
down his hfe for us." Chap. iii. 16. Christ
did not procure a new remedial law, because
that law under which sinners are, requires
perfect obedience, on pain of perpetual
punishment. "Cursed is every one that
continueth not in all things written in the

book of the law to do them, and as many
as are o>l the works of the law are under
its curse." Gal. iii. 10. The law under
which sinners are, is that according to
which the world stands condemned as crim-
inal at Jehovah's bar, and by the deeds of
which no flesh shall be justified in his sight.
Rom. iii. 19, 20. Those who think a relax-
ation of the law is obtained, ought to point
out wherein the abatement consisteth, that
men might keep in a happy medium, and
not presume to go beyond nor fall short in
obedience to its precepts. Will the Lord
indeed allow men to have other gods be-
sides himself, or :o worship him in a way
contrary to what he has appointed ? Will
he hold them guiltless that take his name
in vain ? May people now lawfully forget
to keep holy the sabbath day ? Has Christ
released men from their natural obligations
to parents ? Or given them a license to
murder, to live in uncleanness, and falsely
to accuse their neighbors, or covet what is
the property of others ? If moral com-
mands continue in lull force, as is abund-
antly evident from the New Testament,
wherein then does the alteration consist?
Does the law cease to take cognizance of
the heart, and being less spiritual is it
therefore more agreeable to the carnal
mind ? If that be the case, how can me7i~
tal acts be condemned by it, which the
scriptures positively declare they are ? Im-
pure desires are by it deemed adultery;
hatred, murder; and covetousness, idola-
try. See Matt. v. 2S ; 2 Pet. ii. 14 : 1 John,
iii. 15 ; Col. iii. 5. The language of Chris-
tians in the apostolic day was, We know
the law is spiritual. Rom. vii. 14. It is
holy, just, and good. Rom. vii. 12. I de-
light in it after the inward man, says Paul,
verse 22, so then with my mind I serve the
law of God, verse 25. The law of which
the apostle spoke, and in which he dehghted
was that which slew him, that command-
ment which was ordained to life, (but as a
criminal,) he found to be unto death. Verse
10, 11. He was delivered from it as a cov-
enant, but under it as an unalterable law,
verse 6, 7 ; as a covenant it became weak,
(that it could not give life to the sinner,)
not weak in its own nature, much less wick-
ed, but weak through the flesh. What it
could not therefore do in favor of the guilty,
was done by Jesus, who did not blame the
law, but justified and satisfied its demands,
and condemned all opposition to it, even sin
inthe flesh. Rom. viii. 3. The law under
which Christians are, requires truth in the
inward parts as much as ever, and cannot
alter whilst Jehovah remains the same : for
God is a Spirit, and they that worship him
mixst worship him in spirit and in truth.
John, ii. 24. If then both the matter and
spiritual nature of moral obedience remain

HELP TO Z ION'S TRAVELLERS.

109

the same, notwithstanding men's inability,
it is evident the law by which obedience is
enforced is not altered, and that a new
remedial law is a fiction. Besides, if the

and hid my Lord's money." Mutt. xxv.
24. Sinners in general think their case
would not be so extremely bad as the scrip-
tures assert and they frequently fear, were

law became unrighteous when its subjects they fairly dealt with. Instead of taking
became ungodly (which would be blasphe-jblame and shame to themselves, their pow-
my to suppose,) God would certainly have ers are employed to find out other methods
repealed it, and not sent his Son to honor ito appease conscience, and support hope,

an unjust law, at the expense of his blood
Finally: If the Divine law ceaseth to
require perfect obedience, saints will at last
rise in obedience superior to the law under
which they are ; for the spirits of just men
will be made perfect, and when so they will
love God more than he desires they should,
unless the law rise and fall in its require-
ments according to the inclination of its
subjects, on which absurd hypothesis the
notion of a new law seems to be founded.
The gospel exhibits new motives to love
and obedience, and graciously conveys new
principles, in consequence of which saints
yield to God new obedience, and by his
authority attend to nev/ positive ordinances,
for new and special purposes ; and are ac-
cepted of God, and approach him under
new characters, in a new and living way ;
and are encouraged by new and better
promises, in consequence of the new and
well ordered covenant of grace, under which
they are. But though he make all things
new in respect of acceptance with him, and
enjoyment of him and old things pass away
in favor of them who inhabit the new Jeru-
salem, yet as God is the same, without va-
riableness, in his own adorable perfections,
infinite beauty, and boundless authority, he
cannot theretbre alter his moral law, con-
sidered simply as a law, without giving up
his claim to Deity, because moral obhga-
lions arise from that natural connection and
relation subsisting between God and ration-
al creatures, considered as the productions
of his power. Hence it is that no altera-
tion in them can possibly diminish their ob-
ligations to him.

" Our revolt was a practical declaration
that he was not by nature God, nor worthy
to be glorified as God. To give up the law
in favor of his rebellious creatures, must
therefore be the same in effect, as for God
to give up his own divinity, and ungod him-
self in the sight of all his dominions, to
gratify a rebel."* It is no new thing for
professors of religion to show an inclination
to excuse themselves, and throw the blame
upon God; a certain wicked and slotliful
servant, when called to an account by his
master, could say, " Lord, I knew thee to
be an hard man, reaping where thou hast
not sown, and gathering where thou hast
not strewed, and I was afraid, and went

* S^e Mr. Joseph Bellamy on the Xature ami Glnrv of
the Gospel, page 21,

than that which is set before them in the
gospel. Therefore,

Thirdly; Some apprehend the difficulty
may be solved by supposing a certain de-
gree of grace bestowed on all men, in order
to enable them to perform what is necessary
to the enjoyment of God's friendship and
favor. But the difficulty is rather increased
than diminished by this contrivance. For,

If such degrees of grace be necessary to
enable men to obey, and render their diso-
bedience inexcusable, it necessarily suppos-
es, that unless such a degree of what isf
called common grace was given them of
God, they could not have been judged
blameable for the want of obedience. If
they were not blameable before, or antece-
dent to the supposed grace being bestowed,
they certainly were not liable to punish-
ment. And if not liable to punishment
before they had this common grace confer-
red on them, how is this common grace an
advantage? seeing that without it they
were safe, but the possession of it has ren-
dered their state at best precarious.

Again ; if such grace be given not so
much for their advantage, as to vindicate
Jehovah's character, which is by some sup-
posed to be the design of it (tor men, being
not culpable without it, but in consequence
of it, could have done very well had it never
been bestowed ; for where there is no blame,
no punishment can in equity be inflicted ;)
I say if this common grace, or light within,
or whatever name it may be called by, be
given for the purpose of vindicating the
character of God as a lawgiver and judge,
it is necessarily implied or pre-supposed,
that without such a bestowment, his con-
duct would have been liable to censure and
impeachment, and not at all capable of
being defended as equitable and just.

Further ; If without the impartation of
the aforesaid grace, men would have had
cause to complain of unfair dealing, what
is called common grace is, in fact, no other
than a common debt, which God could not
justly withhold from any man. Thus the
doctrine of common grace represents the
Lord as neitlier generous nor just. It is
the same as saying. If God will please to
do us justice, we will out of complaisance
call it grace. But, as a proof of esteeming
what we call grace a proper debt, and no
real favor, we, in our hearts, verily account,
and are bold to declare that without such a
' bestowment, we should have had cause for-

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

ever to complain of harsh treatment. Thus
it appears that all erroneous systems, how-
ever widely they differ, agree in tacitly
charging God and his law with injustice in
condemning for sin ; and tliat the enmity
of carnal men is such, that they cannot be
reconciled to his government unless certain
concessions be made on his part to obtain
their forgiveness of the supposed injury.
However, it is evident, that approving views
of the requirement ol' God's law are abso-
lutely necessary, in order to admiring views
of the grace in his gospel. For where con-
demnation would be unjust an acquittal is
no favor ; and where obedience is not due,
it cannot be justly demanded.

Fourthly ; Another method of account-
ing for God's requring perfect obedience of
imperfect men, is the consideration of our
being represented by Adam in the cove-
nant which was made with him. The rea-
soning of many eminent men has been
thus : — " We had in Adam full and ade-
quate ability every way proportionable to
the nature and extent of duty ; and though
men have lost their power to obey, God
has neither lost nor given up his authority
to command : therefore it is our duty to ex-
ert not only the strength we are now pos-
sessed of, but likewise tlie strength we
should have had, supposing our first pa-
rent had continued in that state of purity
and power."

That Adam was the covenant head of his
posterity, appears evident from the scrip-
tures, and 1 hope has been proved under
another particular head. And that ad-
vantages and disadvantages naturally re-
sult from representation, according as rep-
resentatives act in their public character,
none, I presume, will deny. The covenant
made with our first parent was most cer-
tainly a righteous constitution ; and had
the condition been performed, we should all
have admired, not only the equity, but the
kindness of the compact. But, as success
does not make a transaction equitable, nor
does a failure constitute a stipulation wrong
which is naturally right, we may rest sat-
isfied, that it was impossible for an infinitely
holy God and an innocent creature to en-
ter into an agreement essentially wrong.
Therefore, we ought to be forever silent, in
respect of censure and complaint.

Though this last-mentioned method of
accounting for the Lord's requiring of us
what is superior to our present power be less
exceptionable than any of those before re-
ferred to, yet it does not seem to come fully
to the point, or cast sufiicient light upon the
subject; for it seems contrary to the com-
mon or known rules of justice and equity,
to punish on the account of not performing
what is iiaturaUy impossible to be perform-
ed.

Hence, some who have endeavored to
hold up the doctrines of grace as objects
of ridicule and contempt, have boldly as-
serted, that according to tliese doctrines,
future judgment would be a tnere farce.
For that God might as justly punish slow
moving animals lor deficiency in swii'tness,
and those for not flying who have no wings
to fly with, nor in any respect formed for
such a motion, as to punish men for not
doing what they cannot possibly accomplish,
but is as much above their power as to
create a world. Such kind of checks the ad-
herents to truth have frequently met with.
And such reasoning, or rather declamation,
has been very stumbling to weak Chris-
tians. Some have been severely tried by
the above misrepresentation of gospel truths,
and tempted to think what they dare not
uiter.

For the relief of such, I would propose
to their calm and candid consideration a
distinction between natural and moral ina-
bility which seems necessary to be well
understood in order to obtam consistent
views of Divine revelation, relating to the
requirements of God's righteous law and
the nature of his precious gospel.

By natural inability, is intended a want of
a natural capacity or opportunity to know
and do what is commanded, or an absolute
defect in the natural powers of a man's
mind or body, by which he is rendered in-
capable of acting although his will were
bent upon the performance of his duty.
Whatever totally prevents, or is an abso-
lute obstruction in the way of a person's
knowing or doing any thing, which renders
the acquirement impossible, though he be
ever so desirous of accomplishing it, is
what I wish to have considered as included
in natural inabilitj\

Moral inability consists in a disinclination
to what is good, or a dislike of, and aver-
sion to, what God has made a person's du-
ty. That I may be properly understood, I
would further observe, tliat by natural pow-
er and ability, is intended, the possession or
enjoyment of such power and properties
of soul and body, as are necessary for the
purpose of mental and corporeal actions,
and being in a situation suitable for the ex-
ertion of them.

By moral ability is intended a suitable dis-
position, which consists in a holy inclina-
tion, a propensity of mind to what is truly
good. To illustrate and point out the pro-
priety and utility of the above distinction,
ibr the relief of entangled minds, I shall en-
deavor to demonstrate,

First, Tliat natural inability, as above
stated, is not a criminal defect ; and that,

Secondly, Moral inability is inseparably
comiected with fault, and cannot possibly
be considered as an excuse or palliation of

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

Ill

blame, but on the contrary, that a man is
culpable, because of his inabihty to obey ;
or that criminality increases in proportion
to the degree of moral impotency.

That natural inability is not a criminal
defect, or culpable deficiency, will perhaps
appear evident, if the following observa-
tions be duly attended to.

First; Though men's powers of mind
and body are no doubt greatly impaired by
the fall, or the entrance of sin, yet the
scriptures do not seem to intimate that
weakness in either is sinful ; they are spok-
en of as pitiable infirmities, but never as
punishable faults. Therefore it is written,
As a father pitieth his children, so the Lord
pitieth them that fear him. He considers
our frame, and remembers we are but dust.
Parents, by whose pity the Lord illustrates
his own, know how to make the distinction
respecting their children, and would be
cruel if they did not. Supposing a son in
the height of some criminal proceeding
should break his legs, would it not be deem-
ed cruel, not only to punish him for the
criminal action by which he came by his
disaster, but for his not walking, which he
would be very glad to do if he could. Upon
this self«evident principle of equity, Mephi-
bosheth founded his plea, when accused by
his servant of disloyalty to King David his
sovereign. He loved David's person and
government, and he pleaded, that his not
accompanying him in a time of trouble,
when he fled before his unnatural son, was
not owing to disaffection, but Thy servant
is lame.

It is not the sin of the blind that they do
not read the scriptures ; nor are the deaf
blameable ibr not hearing the sound of the
gospel : nor the dumb culpable on account
of their not pleading for God. Nor is it
the duty of any to work or war with their
hands who have none. Nor are any blan>-
ed for being sick, though it should be unto
death. The reason is, because they could
not be or do otherwise if they woidd.
Though Paul's bodily presence was weak,
and his speech contemptible, yet he did not
consider himself criminal on that account;
but rejoiced in his infirmities, yea, most
gladly rejoiced in them, that the power of
Christ might rest upon him ; but he did not
rejoice in his sins.

Secondly; Deficiency or weakness in
mental powers is not criminal; for was
that the case, the weakest men would be
the most wicked, and those who are supe-
rior in natural parts would always excel in
piety, which is contrary to fact, as founded
on observation and revelation. Men are
dead in sin, but that death does not con-
sist m a deprivation of natural faculties.
When rationality is absent, the words and
actions oJ such people are never deemed

punishable, because they are not account-
ed criminal. But if the fault lay in natural
weakness, the less understanding and rea-
son a person is possessed of at any time,
the greater would be his crimes. And in-
stead of not being punished for injuring
others, such ought to be punished with
greater severity on that account.

Thirdly ; In regeneration the Holy Spirit
does not create new facidties, or bestow a
new set of natural powers ; he does not
produce " a new head, but a new heart."
by infusing new principles and holy dispo-
sitions. But ii' a deficiency in natural pow-
ers was the fountain of fault, or the source
of blame, from whence criminal actions
proceed, there would be a necessity for the
production of new faculties, or otherwise a
removal of their natural deficiencies. And
if so, the surest evidences of a gracious
change would be a strong memory, a fertile
imagination, a fund of wit, and a profound,
deep vmderstanding, or clear ideas, and
strong reasoning. In short, an assemblage
of fine brilliant parts would, in tliat case,
be the best proof of true holiness. And
thus the devil might perhaps be admired
for his purity for according to that mode of
reasoning Satan might be proved a delightful
saint. No greater natural powers are ne-
cessary to love God, than to hate him ; to
serve him, than to oppose him. Therefore
God does not require more of any man
than the right use of what he hath. And
surely it is not wrong to require what is
right. God does not require any thing un-
reasonable ; he requires only what he has
a right to, and deserve ; even all the heart,
all the soul, and all the strength. He does
not require in point of degree the like of
all ; for " to whom much is given, of them
he requires the more." Luke, xii. 48. It
is each one's all that he demands ; he does
not require his creatures to be alike strong
in mental powers : he never intended they
should. Angels excel in strength ; but he
requires all his rational creatures to love
and serve him, with all the strength they
have. He could not require more with
equity to his creatures, nor dispense with
less injustice to himself. He requires no-
thing naturally impossible to be performed.
He has not made any thing the duty of his
creatures which exceeds their natural abil-
ity, nor does he punish them for not acquir-
ing or doing what is naturally beyond their
power to perform. As men's natural capa-
cities and situations are very different, he
does not therefore requre all men to be alike
knowing, nor does he require knowledge
above and beyond the means of informa-
tion. He does not condemn those Avho
hav^e no revelation, for not knowing what
i.s only knowable by revelation ; nor expect
of those who have the, scriptures to know a

112

HELP TO ZION-S TRAVELLERS.

tittle more tlian is revealed by them. Hence,
as to those things which are only revealed
as matters of fact that they are ignorant
how they are, is not the sin of any man.
Though God exhorts to liberality, yet none
are required to give liberally who have no-
thing to bestow. Duty is ever mca.sured by
natural ability; and where that i.s wanting,
the Lord accepts of a willing mind. See
2 Cor. viii. 12. Where the disposition is
right, and the design or intention good, the
want of ability to act as intended, excul-
pates the person from a charge of criminal-
ity in tliat respect. In a word, the good
man is not blameable because he cannot do
so much for God as he would ; nor is the
bad man commendable, because he cannot
do evil according to his will and desire.
Many wicked men would be greater villains
than they are, if they knew how. But
though they have not ability or opportunity
to act agreeably to their inclinations, none
surely will commend them on that account.
See Acts, xxiii. 12. 1 Kings, viii. 18.

As commendation and blame do not re-
sult from natural ability or inability, but
from dispositions and voluntary acts, there-
fore Jehovah's conduct stands evidently
clear from the imputation of injustice or
cruelty, seeing his requirements are pro-
portionate to, and are nothing more than
a right use of the natural powers, and the
privileges his creatures possess. His com-
mands are not grievous in their own nature,
whatever they be to our corrupt minds.
They are agreeable, and suited to the nat-
ural powers of men, however contrary and
disgustful to tiicir natural inclinalions.

Secondly ; If we attend seriously to mor-
al inability, we shall discover thereby the
awful condition in which men naturally are,
and the absolute necessity of omnipotent
grace to deliver them from a state evidently
helpless, and truly deplorable. For such
cannot love God, nor contribute in the
least to their own deliverance ; and yet
tiieir criminality is equal to their inability.
A sinner while unrenewed by grace can-
not love God, obey the law, or embrace the
gospel. Because the carnal mind is enmi-
ty against God, for it is not subject to the
law of God, neither indeed can he. Rom.
viii. 7. The wicked will not seek after God :
God is not in all his thoughts. Psalm x. 4.
Such do not like to relain God in their
Jiearts ; therefore desire not the knowledge
of his ways. Rom. i. 23 ; Job, xxi. 14.
Yea, they treat him with scorn and disdain.
Wiierefore do the wicked contemn God ?
P.salm X. 13. They being the subjects of
dispositions contrary to his holy nature, are
therefore alienated from the life of God,
and dead in trespasses and in sins. Epii.
ii. 1 ; chap. iv. 18. The natural man is
blind to the moral excellency and beauty of

God ; to the spiritual glories of Christ and
his kingdomi He has no perception of the
things of the Spirit of God, neither can he
know them, because they are spiritually dis-
cerned. 1 Cor. ii. 14. As unconverted
sinners cannot be subject to the law of God,
so they cannot embrace the gospel. Jesua
himself has declared it impossible while
they continue in that state, saying, "No
man can come unto me, except the Father
which hath sent me draw him." John, vi.
44. " The Spirit of truth the world can-
not receive." John, xiv. 17. " Why do
ye not understand my speech ? Even be-
cause ye CANNOT hear my word." John,
viii. 4.3. " Their ear is uncircumcised, and
they CANNOT hearken." (The reason is
added, not as owing to natural, but moral
inability, for) "behold the word of the Lord
is unto them a reproach, they have no de-
light in it." Jer. vi. 10. Their hearts are
destitute of spiritual emotions, and compar-
ed to stone; (Ezek. xxxvi. 26;) even to
the adamant, (Zech. vii. 12,) which is hard-
er than flint, (Ezek. iii. 9,) and which natu-
raUsts have said cannot be broken till steep-
ed in the blood of a goat.* So then they
that are in the flesh cannot please God,
(Rom. viii. 8,) being under the sole power
and dominion of dispositions averse to his
nature and will.

They cannot love and obey God, till they
are inclined so to do ; and no man can be
so disposed to love God. till he view him
as an agreeable object. And God never
was agreeable to a carnal mind, it being
enmity against him, on which account it is
not, CANNOT be subject to him. Rom. viii.
7. Such will neglect and despise God,
while they continue to prefer other things
before him. Those therefore who are lov-
ers of pleasures more than lovers of God,
cannot possibly esteem him as the chief
good ; and unless he be loved as such, he
is not, as God, loved at all. Those who love
the praise of men more than the praise of
God, CANNOT seek the honor which cometh
from him only. For every one if not pre-
vented, will undoubtedly pursue what he
prefers, or act according to his prevailing
inclinations. Those, therefore, could not
believe in, or adhere to the humble Jesus,
who were ambitious of human honor. To
such he said how can ye believe which re-
ceive honor one of another ? John, v. 44.

But some may ask, "May not such per-
sons love God, repent and believe the gos-
pel if they will ?" Answer, " Most certain-
ly they may if they choose to do so." There
is nothing to prevent their doing so, where-
ever the gospel is publislied, but their own
criminal dispo.sitions. There is no bar in
their way. but the wickedness of their

* Flin. Nat. Hist, book 37, chap 1.

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS,

113

hearts. Whosoever will are invited to
come and take of the waters of life freely.
Rev. xxii. 17. They have faculties or pow-
ers of mind adequate to what God requires
of them. It is not owing to the want of
natural ability, as before stated, but they
have no moral ability to perform what is
good ; their impotency consists in an aver-
sion to the things of God. When that is
removed the difficulty is over. For, where
God is loved, sin will be hated, Christ ad-
mired, and the gospel will be received and
embraced, with cordial affection and faith.
But while men are in a carnal state, they
cannot choose what is spiritually good ; for
that would suppose them capable of choos-
ing what they do not approve of, or of pre-
ferring what they do not esteem, but to
which they have a fixed aversion. Whilst
a person sees no comeliness in Christ, where-
fore he should desire him. he cannot possi-
bly choose him as the chief among ten
thousand — his all in all ; which believers
do. Nor can he hate sin till it become dis-
agreeable to him, or sincerely seek the sal-
vation of God till he feels he wants it, and
knows its worth.

The question therefore should rather be,
Whether any unrenewed person ever did,
or possibly can choose to love God, hate sin,
and cordially embrace the gospel ? For,
if none while in that state or condition ever
did or ca7i, make such a choice, a willing-
ness to such a case is not supposable. If
unconverted persons may love God, repent,
and truly believe in Jesus, conversion would
be needless so tar as it relates to such well-
disposed persons ; for true believing peni-
tents shall be saved. And if so, such may
be in heaven who never were born again,
contrary to the express and solemn declar-
ations of the Saviour, Except a man be born
again, he cannot see the kingdom of God ;
except ye be converted and become as lit-
tle children, ye shall not enter into the king-
dom of heaven. John, iii. 3, 5, 7. Matt.
xviii. 3. And if unregenerate persons may
love God, and obey the gospel, how, and
by what, are we to distinguish between
those who are regenerated and those who
are not ? If they cannot be distinguished
who turn themselves, from those whose
hearts are turned and changed by the Lord,
the apostle's question to Christian converts,
IVho maketh thee to differ? would be quite
impertinent. We are taught by the uner-
ring word, that there is a great likeness to,
and as close a connection between men's
voluntary actions and their internal princi-
ples, as between the nature of a tree and
the kind of fruit it bears, or a fountain and
its streams. Matt. vii. 16, 20; James iii.
11, 12. When a corrupt fountain sends
forth pure streams ; and thorns, brambles,
and thistles, produce figs and grapes ; when

Vol. 3.— O.

the whole course of nature is quite revers-
ed, then, and not before, may we expect a
carnal man to choose spiritual things.

But it may be replied, that as man is a
free agent, he has power to choose what
and tohen he thinks proper. That man is
a free agent cannot be denied, consistently
with his being accountable for his own ac-
tions. Man's free agency consisteth in a
power or capacity to compare ideas and to
give a preference to what appears, all
things considered, to be most agreeable to
himself Perfect freedom consisteth in a
man's acting agreeably to his own inclina-
tion, without any compulsion or restraint
A man, therefore, being a free agent, will
act agreeably to his own mind ; therefore
free agency is a farther confirmation of
man's moral inability. For, as Divine
things are, in their very nature, disagree-
able to the unrenewed sinner ; therefore as
a free agent he will, and cannot but choose
the contrary, as being agreeable to the de-
sires and bent of his soul. If it be said,
"Man has a determining power over his
own will, and therefore his will acts as he
directs it, and consequently he is capable
of making a commendable and virtuous
choice :" this indeed is the dernier, or last
resort of most .sensible Arminians. It does
not seem very intelligible to talk of a pow-
er over a power, resolving to resolve, or
directing tliat by which a man is guided,
and leading what he follows. However,
granting all that can be desired, yet man's
moral inability remains just as before stated.
For supposing a man to direct his will what
to choose, he is sure to direct it to choose
that which he thinks is best, or what is
most agreeable to himself The choice,
therefore, which he is supposed to direct
his will to make, cannot possibly be in fa-
vor of true religion, while spiritual things
are disagreeable to him ; which they will
continue to be as long as his heart is unre-
newed by grace. For the first supposed
act of his mind, by which the subsequent
act of his will is directed, must be accord-
ing to the light in which he views the ob-
jects to be chosen ; and while he does not
view the glory and superlative excellence
of Divine things, he cannot give a prefer-
ence to them ; for that would be preferring
what he disesteems. And till he prefers
them he cannot order his will to choose
them. Thus it appears that every wicked
man is held by the cords of his sins. Prov.
V. 22. He feedeth on ashes ; a deceived
heart hath turned him aside, that he can-
not deliver his soul, nor say. Is there not a
lie in my right hand? Isaiah, xliv. 20.
That this awful state of moral inability
and death, is a blameable condition, or a
criminal defect, will appear from the follow-
ing observations.

114

HELP TO ZIOi\'S TRAVELLERS.

1. It is voluntary and free. Men are not I appears that what he did was either the eT-
compelled to sin contrary to their incliiia- feet of compulsion, or witJi an ill design,
lions ; but the hearts of the sons of men Mordecai was not under any real obhgation
are set in them to do evil, Eccles. viii. 11. ,to Haman. though he was by liim arrayed
Their language is, "We have loved stran-jin royal apparel, and brought through the
gers, and after them will we go."' Jer. ii. city on horseback, who Ukewise proclaimed
25. " As for the word thou hast spoken to before him, " Thus shall it be done unto the
us from the Lord we will not hearken unto man whom the king delighteth to honor 1"
thee." Jer. xliv. 18. "Israel (saith the because what he did was co/iirnry to his in-
luord) would have none of me." Psalm clination or choice, being coOTpeZ/erf through
kxxi. 11. "I called but they gave me no fear of the king's displeasure. Nor were
answer ; all the day long have I stretched Joseph's bretliren commendable, though
out my hand to a disobedient and gainsay- they were instruments of his advancement
ing people,"' (Rom. x. 21.) " which walketh in Egypt; because, though tliey sent him
in a way that was not good, after their own thither, they meant it for evil. The devil's
thoughts" (Isa. Lsv. 2.) •■which said unto testimony in favor of Christ's filial relation
God, Depart from us ; and what can the to God did not entitle him to commendation
Almighty do for them ? Depart from us. as Peter's did, though equally true, full, and
for we desire not the knowledge of thy expUcit, because Peter's confession was vol-
ways. What is the Almighty that we untary, and his intention good. He meant
should serve him ; and what profit should , thereby to honor his Lord ; but Satan's ac-
we have if we pray unto him ?' Job. xxii. knowledgment was either the etfect of con-
17; chap. xxi. 11. 14. "We will not h<i.\e\straint, or done with a design to sihA* the
this man to reign over us." The result of Saviour's reputation. See Matt xvi. 16 j
their consultation aganst the Lord, and his ^ Luke. iv. 41.

anointed, is, "Let us break their bands I Hence it appears, that the criminal con-
asunder and cast away their cords from us." i duct of creatures is the eflfect of their choice ;
Psalm ii, 3. Now if men are accountable sinl'ul actions are voluntary' and free. There-
for any of their actions, they must be so for fore no man will be found more sinful than
those which are voluntary. Involuntari/ he chose to he ; and if any actions are purv-
acts are not of a crimvud nature ; they do ishable or commendable, it must be those
not discover a bad disposition. A good j which were voluntarily pertbrmed ; and
man (like Peter) may be bound by violent consequently the strength of a propensity
hands, and carried whither he would not. I to e\-il, or a moral inability' to do good, can-
In that case it is not his fault, though he j not properly be pleaded in favor of sinners,
be found in company with men of the most or as an extenuation of guilt. But,
abandoned characters, being there contrary \ 2. Every apologj^ in favor of delinquents,
to his choice or inclination. A gracious founded on moral inabiht}-, is not only ab-
person may possibly be delirious, and when solutely inadmissible according to every
so, or in fits of conNTilsion, may injure him- i rule of equity, but has a direct tendency to
self or his friends; as such frequently dis-i confirm the charge of culpability, and to
cover the greatest antipathy to those whom j rivet the fetters of guilt. Men are natu-
they most highlj- esteemed when in their; rally disposed to cover their transgressions,
right minds : yet such actions, though verj'l as Adam; (Job, xxxi. 33: Gen. iii. 12,)
detrimental, are never deemed crimi)uil.: and fix the charge of blame elsewhere;
because they are not then considered as I and tlirough confounding or blending the
efiFects of a bad disposition, but as proceed- idea of what is moral, with what is natural,
ing Irom disorders in the animal frame. .they endeavor to keep their consciences
Acts of a natvire much less \iolent and in- 'easy in sin, from such-like excuses as the
jurious, are accounted punishable when following:

there is evidence they are entirely roZwHf art/ "If men's propensity to evil be such as
and free, or arise from a bad design. In- (that they cannot love and obey Grod with-
voluntary actions may occasion much grief ; out being created anew in Christ Jesus,
when reflected upon; but a person cannot they are rather the objects of pity tlian of
be said to repent of them, any more than a 1 blame ; therefore we ought not to be con-
man can repent because he has not had ajdemned for what we cannot help."
f roper perspiration, or a regular pulse. To make this soothing inference consist-
'raise and blame, rewards and punish- 'ent, these words ought to be added; i.e.
ments, are only connected with those actions [ if we would. Then it would be a good plea
which are the fruit of internal volitions. , in favor of involuntary actions, or natural
Therefore no man will be punished inrther inability ; for none are condemned for not
than he is sinful, and no action deemed sin-, doing what they could not possibly pertbrm
fill which is not the effect of choice. Nor if they would ; but as it respects moral ina-
is any man praiscworthv, whatever good bility, it is just the reverse ; for the preva-
may result to others from his conduct, if it lency of inclination, or alrength o( propea-

HELP TO ZIO-N-S TRAVELLERS.

115

sity to good or evil, is the verj* thing from j
whence degrees in each proceed, and are
inferred. Moral evil is that which God
naturally and necessarily hates, and volun-
tarily abhors. His propensitj- to puriiy is
irifinite aind invariable. He therefore takes
no pleasure in our obedience to his own
appointments when peformed in a sinful
manner ; he said to backshdden Israel
•■ Incense is an abomination to me ; the
new moons and sabbaths, the callling of
assembhes, I cannot away with ; it is ini-
quity, even the solemn meeting ; your new
moons and your appointed feasts my soul
hateth ; they are a trouble to me, I am
weary to bear them." Isaiah, i. 13, 14.
As no mail who is the sii>ject of common
sense will infer that, becAse Jehovah has
an infinite strong propensity to purity, and
cannot but hate sin, therelbre he is not ghri-
oug in holiness ; or that because he cannot
lie, cannot deny himself, therefore there is
no need to resolve with David to praise kis^
truth. Psalm Ixsi. 22. Who then, with
the least regard to, or possessing any share ,
of reason, truth, and decenc}-, can thus
plead ? i am not rery had. because I hate
a very greai and constant axersion to uhat
is good.

If an intense love to sin. and hatred to
holiness, do constitute innocence, or free-
dom from blame : those who are the great-
ext enecaies to God and all righteousness.
or most evidently belong to the children of
the devil are the lea^t Uable to punishment

If disinclination to dutv" does free a per-,
son from obhgation to obe*iience. a slothful!
servant would have an unanswerable argu-
ment in tavor of his conduct ; for he might
say, (and no doubt could give a sufficient
proof il' necessary.) that he never loted\
work in his lile, that he always had an aver-\
sion to hard labor, and cannot yet be recon-i
ciled to it being coivtrary to his inclination ;!
and that to which he alxcays found, as fari
as he can remember, an inward jLced re-|
luctance. He might add, Sir. when I find
work agreeable to me, I will attend to it:!
but tiU then, you cannot be so unreasona-,
ble as to blame me, seeing we are taught'
to consider that even in matters of religion, j
nothing is dtJty further than there is a cor-\
responding disposition. I love to look on,'
whilst others labor, and I hope you will al-
low me, without offence, to act according
to my natural inclination. The haughty
6er\-ant might likewise say. You will aJlow
me, I hope sir. to do eis I please, for I never
did love control ; I was always of an ambi-
tioug temper, and have even now a strong \
inclination and intense desire after honor \
and authority. I irish you would, and
therefore I cannot but hope you will con-j
aider yourselC in future, as under my direc-,

tion. Must the notorious thief be acquit-
ted, because he has been long vmder the
power of a strong incUnation to injure his
neighbors ? or the murderer be deemed less
guilty, because of his cruel disposition?
Were such a principle allowed, moral (Gov-
ernment would be overturned ; everj- one
might do as he pleases without liabihty to
punishment, especially those of the vilest
dispositions. And if so, perhaps none
would deserve less punishment than the
devil.

But it may be said, •• Our aversion to
God ha^ been transmitted to us from our
first parents ; and being bom so, therefore
we hope favor will be shown, as our per-
sonal guilt is thereby diminished."' Were
pit}- pleaded for, on account of natural ina-
bility, or a natural defect and affliction, at-
tending either our mental or bodily powers,
the reasonableness of the plea would read-
ily be grantexi, and evidently appear. But
sin is a moral defect and cannot be com-
mitted contrary to a person's consent or
without a criminal inclination. The above
extenuating plea is only a false gloss. Its
genuine sense is the same as il' a person
should say, when indicted lor high treason,
■• I am. it is true, deemed a traitor, but I
hope it will be considered as an extenua-
tion of mj' crime, that I am the offspring
and seed of evil doers; my family in all
their respective generations have been reb-
els against their sovereign. I have there-
fore only acted as they have done who are
my progenitors. I hope I sheill be favora-
bly dealt with, as mv disloyalty (if it must
be so termed) is a tamily disposition. Be-
sides, what I have done, arose from a root-
ed enmity in my heart to the kivLg. his ad-
herents, and government, for which I ought
not to be censured, as my ancestors always
discovered, as I have done, an inclination
to overturn the constitution ; and if possi-
ble to dethrone the sovereign, and bring
him and all his children and subjects into
perpetual contempt. And moreover, as my
temper and disposition are such, I cannot
submit to his authority, nor be beholden to
his clemency ; having a rivetted aversion in
my heart to what he is, has, does, and says.
If therefore my oitn enmity, or my fathers,
against the sovereign and his subjects have
any influence to exculpate or diminish the
charge of guilt which doubtless ougM to
be allowed in my favor, I hope, according
to the law of equity, my punishment (if any
be justly inflicted) will be very* small." If
it would be an affront to common sense, and
contrary- to every rule of equity amongst
men to plead an ejcemption from pimish-
ment on account of the delinquent's tile
disposition, or that of his ancestors, how
awful then is the deception oi those who ap-

116

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS.

prehend they cannot be treated by God as
criminals, because of moral inability, or the
badness of their hearts.

Besides, if the vileness of men's hearts,
or their abominable dispositions, free them
from blame, or secure them from punish-
ment, they cannot accoimt them to be bad
hearts, seeing their present peace and fu-
ture hope depend upon them. They are
not, it seems, injurious hearts, but extreme-
ly beneficial, providing they be but suffi-
ciently vile. Such persons would not know
how to go on in religion as they do — they
could not sin without sorrow, hope without
holiness, believe without evidence, and re-
joice in a thing of novght ; but through the
help of a bad heart. They do not think
them deceitful above all things, and despe-
rately wicked, and that for the badness of
them they are accountable to God. They
consider their base hearts, and vile dispo-
sitions, as their best friends, which justify
and sanctify their omissions of duty, and
commission of sins, as trifling. The gos-
pel libertine, yea, the whole tribe of indo-
lent, light, and trifling professors, seem to
consider and use what tliey call their bad
heart, as a dark room, or concealed ware-
house, where they hope to hide their crimes,
which, as fast as are committed, are remov-
ed thither in expectation of never being
found, or exposed to view, being secured by
the lock of strong delusion under the care
o\^ carnal confidence, who carries the key of
presumption, and is lord of all the lumber.

But how very different are the declara-
tions of God, who says, " The sacrifice of
the wicked is abomination, how much more,
when he bringeth it with a wicked mind ?"
Prov. xxi. 27. " He hath said in his heart,
God hath forgotten ; he hideth his face ; he
will never see it. Thou wilt not require
it." See Psalm x. 11—15. " These things
hast thou done, and I kept silence ; thou
thoughtest that I was altogether such a one
as thyself; but I will reprove thee, and set
them in order before thine eyes." Psalm
1. 21. "Yea, also the heart of the sons of
men is full of evil, and madness is in their
heart, while they live, and after that they
go to the dead." — " But know thou that lor
all these things God will bring thee into
judgment." Eccl. ix. 3; xi. 9.

To conclude,

It is hoped the above remarks may,
through a Divine blessing, help entangled
Christiaris, respecting the following impor-
tant particulars :

1. To behold and admire the equity and
justice of Jehovah's government, in requir-
ing nothing above the capacity, or natural
ability, of his creatures ; and yet continu
ing the equitable demand of perfect obedi
ence, and not altering his law in the least,
to suit the has? dispositions of his rebellious

subjects, which would have destroyed every
idea of authority, and sunk the reputation
of God.

2. The necessity of the almighty opera-
tions of the Holy Spirit, in changing the
bias and dispositions of men, by regenera-
ting or creating them anew in Christ Jesus,
and working in them to will and to do of his
owm good pleasure. For till the sinner's
disposition be changed, till he be born again,
and become a new creature, he can have
no true love to God, no spiritual delight in
his law, no approving views of Christ and
his glorious gospel. And yet the change
produced does not destroy the natural free-
dom of the human will ; but he acts differ-
ently t>om choice to what he did before.

3. By the distinction between natural and
moral ability, sovereign grace is not only
defensible against every artful attack, but it
appears infinitely great and absolutely free.
In every respect it is truly wonderful, be-
cause those who are saved were not only
miserable, but inexcusably criminal, and as
such under the sentence of eternal death,
from which there could not have been the
least hope of deliverance had not grace
provided relief If the several parts of the
great salvation be surveyed, even from its
rise to its final consummation, it will appear
entirely of pure grace, infinite, unmerited
compassion, and astonishing mercy, which
could not be the case if moral death was
not a blameable state. Those who want to
see the subject of grace treated in a mas-
terly manner, and set in a clear convincing
light, I would recommend to their perusal a
book, entitled The Reign of Grace, by Mr.
A. Booth, London.

4. Thereby scriptural exhortations to re-
pentance and faith appear quite consistent,
which could never be defended if criminal-
ity arose from natural, and not moral ina-
bility. For in that case, it would be equally
ridiculous to call sinners to repentance, as
to exhort a blind man to repent of his con-
tinuance so long in darkness, and never be-
holding the surrounding beauties of crea-
tion ; and no less absurd than to attempt to
convince the dead of the crime of indolence,
for lying so long in the grave, when their
help is so much needed both for work and
war. While sin i.s viewed as consisting in
a natural defect, or a deficiency in the natu-
ral powers, penitency can never appear
reasonable and right. For a man to pre-
tend to repent, when at the same time he
considers his fault to lie in a natural defect,
which he cannot possibly help, if he would,
is like a deaf man considering himself as
exceeding criminal because he did not hear
to-day, but is resolved he will not be guilty
of the like sin to-morrow. It indeed seems
to suppose, or require, a very great defect
in a man's understanding, to be able to con-

HELP TO ZION'S TRAVELLERS,

117

elude, that such a repentance is what the
scripture recommends, and the godly pos-
sess. But genuine repentance or sorrow
for sin appears, from the consideration of
voluntary depravity, rational, and every
way fitting ; because duty is not at all pro-

Eortioned to our moral inability, or less
inding because of our disinclination to
good.

5. The doctrine of natural and moral
ability is calculated to afford and administer
much encouragement to seeking souls, and
to comfort those who are really devoted to
Christ ; for as none can come unto him but
such whom the Father draws, therefore
spiritual desires after Jesus, and delight in
religion, are evidences of a gracious change,
holy dispensations, or a new heart.

You whose gifts are small, and natural
powers are weak, be not distressed on those
accounts ; for real grace is much superior
to the best abilities and most brilliant parts.
Therefore, rejoice, that the Lord hath
shown you a more excellent way. Who
hath despised the day of small things ?
The profane world and proud professors
may; but God will not. Those who love
the Saviour, to whom his person, blood, and
obedience, are precious, and his ways plea-
sant, and whose desire is to walk humbly
with God in the paths of purity, though
they freqaently stumble, and are often dis-
couraged, yea, though they fall. They shall
not utterly be caM down; (Psal. xxxvii. 24,)
but shall hold on in their way, and grow
stronger and stronger ; (Job. xvii. 9.) For
the strength and guide of Israel hath said,
" The wayfaring men, though fools, shall
not err." " They shall obtain joy and glad-
ness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee
away." Isaiah, xxxv. 8, 10. Those who
are not able to plead on God's behalf, but
love to think upon his name, are precious in
his sight. And they shall be mine, saith
the Lord, in that day when I make up my
jewels. Mai. iii. 16, 17. Therefore fear
not, worm Jacob.

6. The strong believer, however enriched
with gifts and grace, is thereby led to vari-
ous humbling and profitable considerations.
However great his natural abilities are, he

is as much under a perpetual necessity to
look to, and rely upon the Lord, for gracious
influences, as those of the weakest capacity ;
for a person may possess strong mental
powers and be morally weak. Grace may
be languid and low, where natural gifts are
lively and strong.

Whilst the Christian is the subject of sin,
and a propensity to sin is felt, he will see
the necessity of perpetual watchfulness, re-
pentance, and prayer, and often cry, with
holy Paul, O wretched man that I am !
For though he is not under the sole domin-
ion of sin, yet he feels and laments a crimi-
nal backwardness to good, and a proneness
to evil. So that when he would do good,
evil is present with him. He being the
subject of" two opposite dispositions, there-
fore he cannot do the things that he would.
His resolutions are feeble and his comforts
fluctuate, because his affections are unsta-
ble, being sanctified but in part. Some-
times they mount to heaven, and seem fixed
on things above, but anon they drop down
to earth and sense ; and then he complaint-,
and prays as David did, saying, " My soul
cleavelh to the dust, quicken thou me." He
feels and is assured, that without Christ he
can do notlung ; yet that inability of which
he is sensible, he does not consider as an
excuse for the neglect of duty or commis-
sion of sin. He does not bless himself that
he has got a bad heart, where he may
safely deposit his iniquities, and thereby
keep his conscience calm.

But the sin of his heart is the sorrow of
his soul, and his perpetual plague. It is the
object of his hatred, and the subject of his
secret and unfeigned lamentation : because
the good man is taught to consider moral
defects as inexcusable faults.

He longs for heaven, because it is a place
of purity where he shall be free from sin as
well as from sorrow. While in the body,
he considers himself neither where nor as
he would be ; therefore his desire is to
depart and be with Christ, which is far bet-
ter. And as he which testijieth these things
saith. Surely I come quickly : his heart re-
plies, "Amen, even so come, Lord Je-
sus."

THE END.

OPf,",

^^C. APR

THE

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

By ABRAHAM BOOTH.

For I through the law am dead to the law, that I might live unto God. — Gal. ii. 19.

INTRODUCTION.

The words which contain the important
subject o^ the Ibllowing essay, being part
of that epistle which was written by Paul
to the Galatian churches, it may not be
improper, by way of introduction, to ob-
serve, that in the epistle to those churches,
we have an ancient piece of sacred con-
troversy ; and that the truth vindicated in
it, is interesting to the last degree. For
the great question here debated is, in the
words of Job, " How shall man be just
with God ?" Job ix. 2. In the manage-
ment of which controversy, the great apos-
tle proceeds, under the conduct of the un-
erring Spirit, with all the Jire of godly
zeal ; Gal. iii. 1 ; with all the affection of
the tender parent; Gal. iv. 19; with all
the meekness of heavenly wisdom ; James
iii. 13 ; and (I will not say with all the ac-
curacy of logical disputation, but, which is
infinitely superior,) with all the precision
of divine truth.

Paul was an indefatigable laborer in the
vineyard of Jesus Christ and a successful
preacher of the everlasting gospel. He
was abundantly useful in the execution of
his apostolic office, in turning multitudes
of sinners " from darkness to light, and
from the power of Satan to God." Yet,
after all his unwearied labors, and all his
unparalleled success, he did not assume
the least share of the honor. His language
is, "not I, but the grace of God which was
with me." Nor was he backward to ac-
knowledge, after all the sufferings which
he had sustained, and all the works that
he had performed, for the sake of his di-
vine Master, that, as a saint, he was " less
than the least;" as a sinner, he was the
first and " the chief" Eph. iii. 8. 1 Tim.
i. 15. Perfectly sensible that he was utter-
ly unworthy in the sight of his Maker, and
that the hope of his soul had no support
but sovereign grace, as revealed in Jesus ;
being well acquainted with the infinite pu-
rity of a righteous God, and the sublime

demands of his holy law ; he could accede
to no terms of acceptance, nor acquiesce
in any doctrine which did not provide as
well for the hotwr of divine justice, as for
the safety of the guilty soul which did not
maintain the rights of a holy law, and dis-
play the riches of unbounded grace. Such
was the faith he possessed, and such was
the doctrine he preached.

These truths were dispensed by him
among the Galatians, and with a consider-
able degree of success. Sinners were con-
verted, and churches formed in Galatia, by
the instrumentality of this excellent man.
For a time, they lived in mutual peace, and
regarded the doctrine which Paul had
taught, as of heavenly origin. They re-
joiced in hope ; they ran well. Gal. v. 7,
and seemed to bid fair for obtaining the
prize. Such were their happy circumstan-
ces, for some time after they received the
gospel.

But, alas, how soon the face of things
was altered ! Gal. i. 6. How soon, as to
many of them, were their views of the
grace of God, and of their justification be-
fore him, darkened ! For Satan, that arch-
enemy of God and man — Satan, that im-
placable foe to human happiness, quickly
began to sow the seeds of destructive error,
and to raise up instruments to propagate a
perverted gospel. He " transformed him-
self into an angel of light," and pleaded
the necessity of obedience to the law, in
order to acceptance with God. Thus were
they deceived, under a specious pretence
of greater sanctity, and a more than ordi-
nary zeal for the divine commands. The
righteousness of Christ, which Paul had
described as the " one thing needful" for
the justification of sinners, and which they
had before regarded as the only ground of
their hope, they were afraid to trust, sup-
posing it insufficient. They were taught
by the false apostles, and were persuaded,
in their own deceived hearts, that they were
under a necessity of seeking a supplement-
al^ aid from their own duties.

This doctrine, so pattering to their own

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

119

vanity, so favorable to human worthiness,
and without a professed denial of Christ
and his work, they received with all readi-
ness. For it is much more agreeable to
the pride of nature, and a far more respect-
able and popular way of seeking acceptance
with God, to use our own skill, and exert our
own endeavors, as co-efficients with divine
grace and the great Redeemer, than to rely
entirely on the righteousness of another, and
be beholden, solely beholden, to a foreign,
undeserved assistance. They entered,
therefore, on a vain pursuit of happiness,
in this plausible and self-pleasing, but de-
lusive method. They clave to the law.
They relied on their own duties, as co-
partners with Jesus, in performing the
greatest of all works, in obtaining the no-
blest of all blessings, their justification be-
fore the Almighty. The awful consequen-
ces of which were, they embraced another
gospel; made void the necessity of the
death of Christ ; and virtually renounced
all interest in him. Gal. i. 6, ii. 21, v. 2, 4.
By such a procedure they became debtors
to do the whole law, and were obnoxious
to its dreadful curse. Gal. v. 3, iii. 10.
And, having discarded the glorious truth
which Paul preached, they traduced his
character, they renounced his fellowship,
and treated him as their enemy. Gal. iv. 16.
Such were the malignant effects of re-
ceiving a corrupted gospel. These effects
the good apostle beheld with a mixture of
indignation and sorrow. Against their de-
structive and fatal mistakes, he therefore
takes up his pen, and makes a resolute
stand. The false apostles he considers as
their greatest enemies ; and as being, in a
peculiar manner, accursed of God. Gal.
1. 8, 9. He makes it appear, by such a de-
termined opposition to their plausible and
prevailing tenets, that when the capital
truths of the gospel were corrupted, the
peace of the Christian injured, and the
souls of men endangered, he had no fear
of the hideous charge and popular clamor
of "bigotry to his own way," or "rashness
and a want of charity for others." In this
respect, as in his ministerial conduct in
general, he is worthy of imitation by all
the succeeding servants of Christ in every
age. For, though it be their indispensable
duty to "hold the truth in love," and to
"follow peace with all men." yet, when the
great doctrines of divine revelation are
perverted or denied, then they are called
in providence, then they are required by
the command of God, and the love which
they bear to the Lord Redeemer, to " con-
tend earnestly for the faith once delivered
to the saints." Nor ought they to rtgard
the persons of men, or fear the consequen-
ces which may attend a zealous and pru-
dent defence of the truth.

Happy had it been for the church of
Christ in the following ages, if the errors
espoused and propagated by those ancient
judaizing teachers had ceased to exist,
from the time that their strenuous patrons
left the stage of action. But, alas, the
same temper and spirit still continue, and
still prevail ! True it is that names are
changed, and the terms of the question
then in debate are greatly altered. Now,
none professing Christianity pretend to
maintain the necessity of circumcision, in
order to acceptance with God. That is
now universally esteemed an obsolete rite ;
though, by some of old, accounted of great
importance under the Christian economy.
The same principle, notwithstanding, on
which those judaizing Christians proceed-
ed in maintaining the necessity of circum-
cision, is still retained, and operates in va-
rious ways.

The grand question then was — In what
does that righteousness consist, for the sake
of which alone a sinner may be justified
before God? And the matter in contro-
versy between Paul and his opponents,
was — Whether the obedience of Christ,
without any addition whatever, was that
very righteousness ? Or, whether some do-
ings or endeavors of their own, were not
necessary for that important p^irpose?
Paul maintained the fomier ; the Jewish
zealots the latter. To this one point may
the disputations of Paul with the deceived
Galatians, on the article of justification, be
reduced ; as is obvious from the contents
of his epistle to them.

As the same dispute still continues in
the world, and as the words which afford
matter for the present essay, are happily
adapted to cast light on this very interest-
ing subject, it may be no unpleasing, per-
haps no unprofitable employ, to consider
the capital ideas contained in them, in the
following sections. And may the unerring
Spirit illuminate the mind, and guide the
pen of the writer — that he may not prove
an ignorant patron of error, but a well-
informed advocate for truth. May the
same infallible Guide smile on this feeble
attempt for the good of the reader ! That
the consciences of the unawakened may
be alarmed — the minds of the ignorant
instructed — the hearts of the disconsolate
comforted — and faith and holiness promot-
ed in all into whose hands these pages may
come.

SECTION I.

What law it is to which the Apostle was dead.

Our first inquiry must be. What law it
is the apostle designs when he eaye, " I am

120

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

dead to the law ?" We may obtain satis-
faction in this inquiry, by consulting the
context. Great reason there is to conclude,
that the law intended here, is the same he
repeatedly mentions in the sixteenth verse
of the chapter. And it is evident that is
the moral law. For that is the law to
which we are universally inclined to look
for justification and life ; though by it we
can never obtain those invaluable bless-
ings.

When a sinner is awakened out of car-
nal security, and his conscience is alarmed
with a sense of guilt, he naturally looks to
some devout and penitential exercises of
his heart, or some pious and beneficient
actiotis of his life. Some doings or en-
deavors of his own, engage his attention ;
and, for a while, yield a feeble support for
his hope. " What shall I do to be saved ?"
is his language. With this the apostle
was perfectly acquainted. He therefore
repeatedly affirms, "That by the works of
the law shall no flesh be justified." Rom.
iii. 20. Gul. ii. 16. This being an article
of great importance, and the legal bias of
our minds being so apt to lead us astray,
he does not content himself with barely
asserting that we cannot be justified by it;
but he also assigns the reason. Affirming
that it is impossible for the law to justify
any of the children of Adam, because "it
is become weak through the flesh," Rom.
viii. 3, or the corruption of nature. Hu-
man depravity renders a perfect, personal
conformity to the divine law, utterly im-
practicable ; and without a complete obe-
dience, justification by it is absolutely im-
possible.

That it is the moral law he here designs,
appears from the opposition there is be-
tween the works of that law of which he
speaks, and the faith of Jesus. •' Know-
ing that a man is not justified by the works
of the law, but by the faitJi of Jesus Christ !"
But that law, and the works of it, to which
the faith of Christ is directly opposed, is
the moral law. For as to the ceremonial
law, it contained a principal part of the
gospel of the ancient church. Christ in
liis person and offices ; Christ in his grace
and work ; was prefigured in it, and signi-
fied by it. To him it had an invariable
respect, and in him it had its final comple-
tion. Yes, believer, that very Jesus whom
you love and adore; that very grace in
which you trust and rejoice, were in that
law exliibited as the hope of guilty sin-
ners, and the joy of enlightened saints.
Consequently, the ceremonial law cannot
be considered as set in direct opposition,
by the apostle, to Christ and faith in him.

It follows, therefore, that it is the moral
law he intends, when he says, "I am dead
to the law." For it may be placed in such

a contrasted view, with tlie greatest pro-
priety. This law and the works of it, are
directly opposite to grace and faith in a
Redeemer. It makes not the least com-
fortable discovery to a miserable sinner.
It knows nothing of pardoning mercy. It
says not a word about atoning blood. Be-
ing the formula of that covenant which
was made with man in a state of innocence,
it makes not the least abatement in point
of duty ; nor the least provision, in a way
of mercy, in case of failure. Perfect obe-
dience is its constant demand ; an obedi-
ence, personal and perpetual. Whatever
mercy the sinner wants, whatever bless-
ings God bestows, is provided in another
covenant, are dispensed in another way.

Again : That the moral law is here in-
tended, appears from a parallel passage in
the writings of Paul, relating, as here, to
his own experience. " I was alive without
the law once ; but when the commandment
came, sin revived and I died. Rom. vii. 9.
I was alive: I supposed myself righteous,
I thought myself safe, in virtue of my own
obedience. But I was then without the
late; I was far from being acquainted
with its vast extent, and high demands.
For when the commandment came, shining
on my understanding in its purity, and op-
eratinsT on my conscience with power, sin
revived and I died to all self-righteous
hopes. Thus the letter, the law that was
inscribed with God's own hand on tables
of stone, killeth ; 2 Cor. iii. 6, 7 ; as the
infallible author, in another epistle, asserts.
Such, then, is the law to which the apostle
was dead. And, however strange the doc-
trine may appear to the self-righteous pro-
fessor, we may venture to affirm, that no
man, after all his resolutions and all his
efforts, can ever experience a sense of par-
don, or enjoy peace in his conscience ; can
either live to God in holy obedience here,
or have a well-gro\inded hope of glory
hereafter, till he knows what it is to be
dead to the law. This truth we shall en-
deavor to prove and illustrate in the follow-
ing pages.

SECTION II.

Unregenerate Sinners alive to the Late, as
a Covenant.

The moral law may be considered either
as a covenant of works, or as a rule of
co7idurt. In the latter of these respects, it
is unchangeable as that relation between
God and man, on which it is founded, and
therefore, never to be disregarded ; as we
shall endeavor to show in its proper place.
In the former, it may be considered not

DEATH OF LEGAL HOHE.

121

only as prescribing duty, but as promising
a reward, on condition of perfect obedience,
and as guarded by a penal sanction, de-
nouncing eternal death against every of-
fender. To the law, thus considered, the
apostle says, " I am dead."

When a person is described as dead to
the law, it is supposed and implied that he
was once alive to it ; that his hopes of jus-
tification and life by it, are now exiinct-
and that as a covenant it ceases to have
any further demands upon him, or to de
nounce any ihreatenings against him. We
shall make the Jirst of these particulars
the subject of our inquiry in the present
section.

When the apostle says, " I am dead to
the law," the expression implies, that he
was once alive to it. Death is a privation
of life. No man therefore can, with pro-
priety, be said to be dead to the law, if he
never was alive to it. Before regeneration,
all men are alive to the law: or, in other
words, they seek justification by it. Their
hopes are founded upon it ; their expecta-
tions of acceptance with God and lite eter-
nal, arise from their obedience to it. Such
are the expectations of every unregenerate
man. This is the way which nature teach-
es: this is a method which pride encour-
ages.

Man being originally formed for a cove-
nant of works, and fitted to live by his own
righteousness; being endued with capaci-
ties and powers to persevere in holiness,
and to enjoy happiness by such a constitu-
tion ; it is no wonder that he should, now
fallen, and while unregenerate, have no
idea of living to God, and obtaining salva-
tion by a covenant of a quite different
kind. Our first parents, while innocent,
having no need of that merciful provision
which is made for the guilty, in the cove-
nant of grace, had no revelation of it.
Consequently, after the fall, they could
have no conception of any such thing, any
I'urther than the great Creator was pleased
to reveal it to them. And as all the hu-
man race are tlie posterity of that apos-
tate pair ; and as we descend from them,
as formed for a covenant of works, and as
breakers of it ; so we not only derive a
corrupt nature from them, and are obnox-
ious to divine wrath; Eph. ii. 3; but also
naturally cleave to the legal covenant as
that which is suited to the feeble ray of
nature's light, and those principles on which
we act, so soon as reason dawns. And
though nothing but sad disappointment has
attended man's endeavors in this way ; yet,
not being acquainted with any otlier sup-
port against despair, when guilt pains his
conscience, his pride still flatters him with
a prospect of better success, by means of
new improvements in such attempts. Yes,

VoL 3.— P.

no sooner are we conscious of guilt, and
alarmed with apprehensions of impending
ruin, then we flee to the law for relief.
Sorrow for our past transgressions, and
sincere obedience for the future ; forsaking
our former evil courses, and espousing the
cause of religion ; are esteemed the most
probable means of procuring the pardon
of sin, and the salvation of our immortal
souls. Especially, if we have some re-
spect to the general mercy of God, and a
partial regard to the atonement of Christ,
as suj)plying the defects attending our own
obedience, and inclining the Deity to make
proper allowances, and be propitious to us,
in regard to our many unavoidable infirm-
ities.

Ready we are to imagine, that as a law
requires obedience, and promises a reward
to the performer of it, a sincere endeavor
to do the best we are able, in our present
circumstances, (though we can scarcely
hope to arrive at perfection) will be conde-
scendingly regarded by a merciful God ;
regarded as an undoubted indication of an
upright heart, and a sufficient foundation
on which to proceed, in applying to us the
merits of Jesus Christ. Thus we make
our well-meant endeavors to obey the law,
a kind of pedestal, on which the general
mercy of God, and the conditional merit
of Christ, may be erected to display them-
selves with advantage, in rewarding the
worth}', and distinguishing those who have
already so well distinguished themselves
as the observers of the law, and the friends
of piety. And, in case of a relapse into
open and scandalous sins, they who are
alive to the law, suppose the remedy is
obvious. They readily conclude that there
must be some additionals, in kind, number,
or degree, to their penitential and religious
exercises. For instance, sorrowing more
bitterly, praying more fervently, giving
alms more liberally, and performing every
religious duty with a greater punctuality
and warmer zeal. Thus tliey think to com-
mute with divine justice, or to quit scores
for their offences by Iheir duties.

In consequence of such a procedure,
they are either elated with pharisaical
pride, or overwhelmed with desponding
fears — with pharisaical prid^, when pos-
sessed of a high conceit of the excellence
of their duties, and the safety of their state.
When they imagine themselves to have
performed the conditions required, be they
greater or less, they cannot but congratu-
late themselves on their happy attainments
in holiness, and the glorious prospects
they have in view. Their own free-will,
and the strength of their moral powers,
are the idol to which they bow, the god
whom they adore. " They offer sacrifice
to their own net, and burn incense to their

322

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

own drag." Hab. i. 16. They look down
upon the common herd of mankind with a
supercihous disdain, wondering in them-
selves, that creatures of an immortal make
should actsoignohly and beneath the man ;
that they should not assert their native
dignity as rational beings, and should per-
form their part no better, as moral agents.
Supposing that it only requires a good res-
olution, in the immoral and profane, to break
ott' their vilest courses ; to attain virtuous
Jiabits ; to perform the conditions required,
in order to eternal happiness ; and, finally,
to receive the promised reward.

Or, admitting they do acknowledge their
obligations to divine assistance, in attain-
ing their virtuous habits, in irerforming
their righteous acts, and in making them-
selves dirt'er from others, and even from
Iheir former selves; yet, while they are
looking to tliese holy qualities and right-
eous deeds, as being either the cause or
condition, more or less, of their acceptance
with God, or interest in Jesus Christ; they
are alive to the law, and debtors to perform
the whole. However amiable in their
tempers and conduct, or excellent in their
characters among their fellow-creatures;
however they may please themselves, oi-
be applauded by others, their state, in the
estimate of heaven, is the same with his in
the parable, who said, " God, / thank thee
I am not as other n)en." The aggravated
fault and fatal mistake of the pharisee, did
not consist merely, nor principally, in pre-
ferring his own state to that of other men
in general, or of the publican in particular;
for ho expressly acknowledged his obliga-
tions to preventing ami assisting grace,
which enabled him to avoid the sins, and
practise the duties he mentions. For,
surely, it never can be esteemed such an
aggravated crime, for a man of religious
character and becoming conduct, when he
Feflects on the vicious practices of many,
which render them a nuisance to society.
and a pest to the public, to say, "God /
thank thee that I am not guilty of such
enormous crimes ; that I am not abandon-
ed to such evil courses, and lost to all sense
of things divine. The seeds of those
abominable iniquities. I acknowledge, are
deeply sown in my constitution ; and, that
they have not sprung up to such a malig-
nant height, is owing to thy restraining
grace." Such language may be used by
the humblest Christian, or the highest saint,
■without giving anyaoccasion for blame.

The fault, the awful mistake of the phar-
isee, principally lay in trusting to that dif-
ference, in pleading that preference, in the
important article of justification before
the tremendous Jehovah. Here he was
chargeable, as an extravagant boaster.
Here he was condemnable^ as .a vile of-

fender. In the momentou.'? afTair of accept-
ance with his ofiended Maker, he should
have ranked himself with the worst of
publrc.ans, and the most aljandoned villains.
He ought to have considered himself as
having iw other righteousness on which to
depend, than what would be equal to their
wants, and bring salvation to their souls,
were it applied to them. For in that grand
concern, the eternal Sovereign has no re-
gard to any thing short of an absuhdely
perfect rigbteo\jsnes9. Of this the phari-
see was destitute, as well as the publican.
Whatever difference may subsist belweerf
man and man, as to their moral character
and religious performances, it has not the
least concern in their justification. Of this
the poor deluded self-justifier was ignorant.
For though ho did not pretend that he was
naturalhj any better than others; though
he did not pretend that his works were
meritorious, or done in his own strength f
yet he supposed that he had, by the assist-
ance of grace, performed the condition on
which the pardon of his sins, and his ac-
ceptance with God, were suspended.*

Such was the state of this pharisee ; and
such, at the best, are the hopes of all who
are alive to the law. When they think of
appearing belbre the great Judge of the
world, they look to their own holy desires
and pious endeavors, to relieve their anx-
ious minds. In this way is their peace of
conscience, such as it is, obtained. This is
the method in which they seek to make
and preserve their peace with that sove-
reign Being whose majesty they have af-
fronted, and whose laws they have broken.
To the law they appeal, and by it they
must stand or fall.

When, on the other hand, this way of
seeking comfort fails to afibrd relief; when
a reflection upon their pious performances
and penitential exercises yields no conso^
laiion ; then a sense of guilt overwhelms
them with desponding fears. The cove-
nant of grace, with all its cheering promi-
ses, the blood of Immanuel, with all its in-
finite merit, are overlooked by them ; or, il"
not entirely overlooked, will afibrd them no
peace, while alive to the law. For as it is
the righteousness of the law alone with
which they are acquainted, so it is in that
righteousness they desire to be found. It
is that on which they principally rely ; and,
without that, they esteem every other thing
insufficient. Persuaded they may be that,
as their own obedience is greatly imper-
fect, so they cannot be saved without some
assistance i'rom him who hung on the cross,
or without -s^o/He gracious indulgence from
the mercy of God ; but, at the same time,
neither the atonement of Christ, nor the

* See Dr. Owen on Justificatiou, Cliap. xvii.

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE,

123

mercy of heaven, will support (heir minds,
any further than they suppose themselves
to have performed the condition, or come
up to the terms on which they imagine
that assistance is granted, and this mercy
exercised. So that all their hopes and all
their comforts, are ultimately resolved into
their own duties— into that by which they
suppose themselves to differ from the alto-
gether worthless and vile.

Hence it is evident that the peace of
conscience which such persons enjoy, is
founded in their ignorance of the evil of
fsin, and the wrath it deserves. When,
therefore, at any time, its infinite demerit
appears to a greater degree than common,
their consciences are pressed with guilt,
and racked with terrors. Amazement
seizes their minds, and horror chills their
felood. Their cry is, "Who among us
shall dwell with the devouring fire? Who
among us shall dwell with everlasting
burnings?" Isaiah xxxiii. 14. And if
some fresh opiate be not administered to
■conscience, or the Spirit of God do not di-
vorce them from the law, and show them
a better covenant, their "souls will choose
strangling rather than life." Such is the
case of a sinner, who is alive to the law,
when guilt burdens the soul, and conscience
sharpens her sting,

■ Let the thoughtless sinner, and the self-
righteous professor, consider their state,
and reflect on these alarming facts. Wheth-
er my reader be the one or the other, his
state is dangerous. Is he one of those
careless inorlals whose whole time is em-
ployed in making provision for the present
life, and to fulfil the lusts of the flesh?
He is no less under the law, he is no less
obnoxious to its awful curse, though he
think not at all about it. But can you rest.

0, thoughtless sinner ! can you be satisfied
in such a condition? Can you imagine
that your Almighty Maker and Supreme
Judge, will be forever as forgetful of you,
as you are at present forgetful of him and
his worship ? Can the Omniscient overlook
you? or can he who declares, "I will by
no means clear the guilty," suflTer you to
sin wiih impunity? No! while his nature
is holy, and his word is true ; while he
hates sin, and has power to punish, it can
never be. You may sleep in your sins for
a time, but, if grace prevent not, your
damnation will not, cannot slumber. 2 Pet,
ii. 3. And dreadful indeed will be your
condilion, if you continue to sleep (ill fire
and brimstone awaken you. " Consider
this, ye that forget God, lest he tear you in
pieces, and there be none to deliver !" Ps.

1. 22. The rich man in the parable, being
'•in hell, lifted up his eyes." Then were
his eyes opened. The bewitching pleas-
urea of the world had lulled hie conscience

asleep. His elevated station in life became
a continual prompter to hi.s vanity, and en-
abled him to riot in the luxuries of sense.
Earthly things engrossed his whole atten-
tion, engaged his whole life, and left hint
no time to think about, tlie state of his
soul, or the God who made fiim. The
downward road in which he walked, being
broad and easy, and mnch frequented, he
forgot to ask himself where it would ter-
minate, till his fleeting moments were ali
elapsed, and his state was utterly ^iespe-
rate. Thus l>e became a damned soul and
lost his all, before he apprehend-ed his dan-
ger. Beware, reader, lest this should be
your case ! May the ■children of this
world, and the sons of carnal pleasure, be
effectually warned by this dreadful catas-
trophe of their unhappy brotlier; that they
come not into the sanre place of black de-
spair and endless torment!

Or is my reader a serious person, and
possessed of an abiding concern for his
immortal soul ? Permit me to ask, are you
alive to the law, and seeking, by a sincere
obedience to it, to gain acceptance with
the high and holy God ? If so, hear your
doom ; behold your danger. For thus the
Lord and the Lawgiver determines the
case: "As many as are of the works of
the law, are" — what? pardoned? accept-
ed? blessed? Far from it. They are on
the contrary, '■^ tinder a curse!'"' Gal. iii.
10. " Amazing !" cries one, " that avowed
rebels against God, and the open breakers
of his law ; that they who publish their
sins, as Sodom, and hide them not, as Go-
morrah; that all such should be under a
curse, appears equitable ; but that persons
who are '• of tlie works of the law,' who
sincerely endeavor to perform his com-
mands, and are looking, in this rational
and popular way, for acceptance and eter-
nal life, that they should be in such an aw-
ful situation, is quite inconceivable, and
highly unreasonable."

To which it may be replied : that all who
are " of the works of the law," are under
it as a covenant. As such, it requires per-
fect obedience, and perfect obedience it
must have, or there is no justification by it.
Now the apostle, in this alarming passage,
takes it for granted that every man has
sinned, and broken the law. Consequent-
ly, they who are under it as a covenant,
not having abstained from every sin forbid-
den, and performed every duty required
by it, its penal sanction lies against them;
it denounces a curse upon them ; the awful
declaration, therefore, is the language of
strict propriety ; is the voice of truth itself.
How often shall the Most High declare,

that no flesh," that no mortal, " shall be
justified before God, by the deeds oi' the
law." or by his own obedience to it, before

124

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE,

you credit the solemn assertion, or believe
the humbling truth? Is the condition of
your justification so small, or your ability
BO great, that nothing will serve but you
must perform it yourselves? Remember,
ye deluded mortals 1 remember, that par-
don of sin is a blessing so immensely rich ;
acceptance with the infinite Jehovah is a
favor so extremely high ; that if all the
cattle on a thousand hills were your own,
and, together with the first-born of your
bodies, were devoted to God in a burnt-
offering, to make an atonement for the sin
of your souls ; were you to give all your
goods away to feed the poor, and your
bodies to be burned ; all, all would be en
tirely unavailing to procure either the one
or the other. For a righteous God cannot
accept the performances or the offerings of
a sinful creature, as a compensation for the
injury done by his crimes. Besides, it is
the province of grace, and the work of
Christ alone, to obtain the pardon of sin,
and render our persons accepted. This is
the capital truth of the Bible ; the central
point, in which all the lines of divine reve-
lation terminate. Yet if, after all, you will
appeal to the law, to the law you must go.
But remember that, in so doing, Christ
shall profit you nothing. Gal. v. 2, 4. So
that you have no alternative, but to keep it
perfectly, or die eternally.

SECTION III.

Believers dead to the law, considered as a
covenant.

We have seen, in the preceding section,
that unregenerate sinners are alive to the
law, as a covenant. We now proceed to
show, that believers are dead to it, under
that consideration. " I am dead to the
law; ye are dead to the law," says the
apostle. Gal. ii. 19. Rom. vii. 4.

As all who are alive to the law are seek-
ing justification by it ; as their expectations
of acceptance with God may be ultimately
resolved into some doings or endeavors of
their own ; some gracious habits or heav-
enly qualities, of which they suppose them-
selves to be the subjects ; so they who are
dead to the law, are entirely divorced from
every such expectation. Though they are
well acquainted with the beauty of holiness,
and far from despising a regular conduct ;
though ihey would exert their utmost efforts
in a way of duty to God, and earnestly de
Bire to bear a greater conformity to the
Redeemer's image ; yet they consider these
things as standing in another place, and as
designed to answer a very different purpose,
from that of being causes or conditions,

more or less, of their justification. Ye-a,
whatever assistance they may have from
the Spirit of truth, in performing religious
duties; or whatever attainments they may
make in holiness, through a divine influ-
ence ; they consider those duties and this
holiness, as totally distinct from that right-
eousness on which they depend ; from that
obedience by which they are justified.

Once, indeed, they were of another mind,
and viewed things in a very difierent light.
Time was, when they thought highly of
their own, thought meanly of their Sav-
iour's righteousness. But, by the agency
of the divine Spirit, and the instrumentali-
ty of the divine law, their case is happily
altered. They are brought to see their
abject poverty, and to acknowledge their
utter unworthiness.

Is the reader desirous of knowing by
what means a sinner becomes dead to the
as a covenant? The great apostle
informs us, when he says, " I through the
law am dead to the law." The moral law,
the hand of the Spirit, is the honored
instrument of producing the happy change.
By it the awakened sinner discerns the
immaculate purity of the divine nature,
and the consummate rectitude of the divine
will. Its precepts and prohibitions, con-
taining a complete system of duty, are be-
held by him as entirely correspondent with
the perfections of the infinite Jehovah. He
beholds the unalienable rights of the great
Legislator, in the demands of his law;
and a discovery of that perfect correspond-
ence which there is between the require-
ments of the law and the eternal rights of
the Deity, evinces to his conscience the
holiness and transcendent excellence of
the law. Possessed of such a conviction,
the sinner beholds, not only its unblemish-
ed purity, but also its vast extent. He is
obliged to acknowledge that it requires
truth in the inward parts; that it extends
to all the thoughts and all the desires of the
heart. That it demands not only a course
of obedience, unblamable in the eyes of
men, but a purity of desire, and a spiritu-
ality of affection, a rectitude of design, and
a perpetual series of action, without a fail-
ure and without a flaw, in the sight of the
heart-searching God.

By the law, he comes to see the nature
and the evil of sin. Sin is "a transgres-
sion of the law ;" a contrariety to the re-
vealed will, and to the holy nature of God.
Nor does it only manifest what sin is, in
itself, but also what it deserves. It reveals
the wrath of God against all ungodlinesa
and unrighteousness of men ; against ev-
ery, the least departure from absolute per-
fection. It denounces an awful curse, and
unsheaths the sword of divine justice
against every transgressor. Its language

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

125

is, "Cursed is every one that continuethlthority, and heard it denouncing vengeance,

not in all things which are written in the
book of the law, to do them." It fastens a
charge of guilt on the sinner's conscience,
and binds him over to eternal torment.

And as the law teaches a sinner the ho-
liness of the divine nature, and the super-
lative evil of sin ; so he is brought to ac-
knowledge the equity of that sentence de-
nounced against him, and the righteousness
of God in the damnation of the guilty.
His mouth is stopped ; he pleads guilty be-
fore his Judge. Sin, he sees, is an infinite
evil, and justly deserves everlasting pun-
ishment. He is convinced that if the sen-
tence of death pronounced upon him were
to be executed in all its rigor, he should
have no right to complain. His language
is, " the law is worthy of God ; my Maker
is righteous; damnation is my dae." Be-
holding the aggravations of his sins, and
the imperfections of his duties, the deprav-
ity of his heart, and the spirituality of the
law. he despairs of ever obtaining the fa-
vor of God, or peace for his conscience, by
any future endeavors. He sees with
amazement, and confesses with grief, the
pride and the folly of his former expecta-
tions of righteousness and life by the law.
He lies low at the foot of sovereign mercy.
Fully convinced of his absolute need of a
Saviour, who can give the law it demands,
and rescue his perishing soul from destruc-
tion ; who can satisfy the claims of justice,
and exercise boundless mercy; he is con-
tent to be saved by the righteousness of
another, and to be forever indebted to free,
distinguishing, infinite grace.

Let us hear the great teacher of the
Gentiles deliver his own experience in
reference to this very thing: "I was alive
without the law once ; but when the com-
mandment came, sin revived and I died."
Rom. vii. 9. / ioas alive ; elated with a
fond conceit of my inherent excellences
and moral endowments, I imagined myself
safe, I thought myself happy. But, when
this delusive persuasion possessed my
heart, I was without the law. Though for
it I professed the highest regard ; though
to it I endeavored to conform my life ; I
was entirely ignorant of its spiritual na-
ture, and without the least knowledge of
its true design. As the most learned and
admired doctors of the age had taught, I
supposed that a superficial observance of
the duties it enjoins, and an outside for-
bearance from the things it prohibits, were
all it required. Matt. v. 21, 22, 27, 28, 33,
34, 43, 44. BiU wheti the commandment
came — when I saw its immaculate purity,
as an image of the divine holiness, and be-
held its extensive demands, as a transcript
of the divine will ; when I viewed it as de-
manding perfection, with a sovereign au-

as with the voice of God, against every,
the least offence, then sin revived. A clear
and lively sense of sin penetrated my very
soul. I saw myself chargeable with innu-
merable transgressions. I felt myself sub-
ject to many abominable corruptions. My
heart, of whose purity I was before so
ready to boast, I found to be " deceitful
above all things, and desperately wicked."
The best of my actions, in which I was
wont to confide, appeared but splendid
sins, and, in reference to my justification
before God, I despised them " as filthy
rags." In consequence of which, / died.
My self-righteous hopes, which before had
reared their heads alofi, were now dashed
in the dust. The sentence of death, aa
the desert of sin, pronounced by the law, I
acknowledged to be just. All my pleas,
and all my expectations of life by the law,
were then struck dead. Nor did I only
renounce my past performances and pres-
ent attainments, as insufficient and deplor-
ably defective in the account of a holy God,
and in the eye of his righteous law ; but
also despaired of ever doing any thing in
future, by any assistance whatever, to win
the favor of my Judge, or obtain accept-
ance before him. So that every self-right-
eous support was entirely removed, and
every avenue to comfort, by my own obe-
dience, was eternally barred.

Thus it was with Paul, after all his sin-
cerity and all his obedience, before conver-
sion ; and thus it is with every sinner who
is brought to the knowledge of the true
God, and discerns the purity of the divine
law. For no man beholds the grace of the
gospel, who does not acknowledge the
equity of the law. We shall never consid-
er salvation as divinely free., till we cordial-
ly confess our condemnation to be entirely
just. But when the purity of the Lawgiver
is seen in the flaming holiness of his law,
when it denounces its curse against the
sinner, and his own conscience, being stung
with guilt, confirms the dreadful sentence,
and with an awful emphasis replies, "thou
art the man" — then the relief provided by
grace and revealed in the gospel, is beheld
with an ardent desire — is embraced with
exuberant joy. Thus, by the agency of
the Holy Spirit, the law subserves the gra-
cious design of the gospel. The right-
eousness and terror of the legal sanction
are happily useful, to illustrate the freeness,
and proclaim the sovereignty of saving
grace.

The sinner being brought, by divine
teaching, to see the insufficiency of his
own obedience, and to renounce his former
hopes, as being no other than a "refuge of
lies," is filled with anxious inquiries, how
he may escape the wrath to come. Hav-

126

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

ing tried every expedient which presented
itself to his mind, as any way proper to
afford relief to his guilty conscience, and
finding them all to fail, he is ready to faint
with fear, and sink in despondency. He
drops every pretension to personal worthi-
ness, and freely acknowledges himself the
chief of sinners. So far is he from ad-
vancing a claim to heaven, on the footing
of duty performed, that he is amazed he
was not long since transmitted to hell for
his crimes. But grace forbids that he
should be overwhelmed in despair. That
same Spirit, by whose omnipotent agency
he was divorced from the law, leads him
to Jesus. And now, that sovereign mercy
to which he submitted with such reluctance,
appears with a winning aspect. Now,
that boundless grace which he had so long
despised, shines with peculiar glory. To
that mercy, as revealed in the atonement,
he flees, like a murderer pursued by the
officers of justice, or like the unhappy man
slayer of old, before the avenger of blood ;
and on this grace, as reigning by Jesus
Christ, he rests his all for eternity. Now
the everlasting covenant begins to unveil
its infinite stores to his ravished view; and
the gospel pours its healing balm into his
wounded conscience. The crucified Jesus
is now his only hope. That he " may win
Christ, and be found in him," is all his sal-
vation and all his desire. Riches and hon-
ors, crowns and kingdoms, are little, are
nothing to him, compared with an interest
in the Redeemer. Being -'dead to the
law," he renounces himself in every view,
and reflects on his former ignor;ince and
Pharisaical pride with the greatest amaze-
ment and the deepest self-abhorrence.
Finding an all-sufficiency in the adored
Immanuel, not only 1o supply his wants,
but to make him infinitely rich and eternal-
ly happy, he rests completely satisfied.
The perfect obedience of his divine Sub-
stitute, which is revealed in the gospel and
received by faith, being that in which Je-
hovah himself delights, Isaiah xlii. 21, is
an adequate ground for his strongest confi-
dence, and an inexhaustible source for hi.-?
publimest joy. Such is the state, and such
are the views of all who are dead to the
law.

Having such a discovery of the divine
purity and divine law, he is far from boast-
ing over the vilest of men, or the most in-
famous wretches. The more he knows of
God. of the violated law. and of his own
einful state, the more is he convinced that
he has re;ison to say, " behold I am vile !'"
Yet, at the same time, he dare, as in the
presence of God, contemplate the holy
commandment, and give conscience her full
scope, without fear of confusion ; being
••veli persuaded, however aggravated a

charge may be brought against him, that
grace has provided, and the gospel reveals
a righteousness which is quite sulTicient to
declare the justice of God in justifying
him, even in the worst view he can have
of himself; nay, which is incomparably
more, in the worst view in which he can
appear before the Omniscient. Though
he once imagined that the idea of a just
God, and the fear of eternal misery, were
absolutely inseparable, yet he now reveres
the former, without dreading the latter.

That every real saint is dead to the law,
and that his whole hope, as to justification,
centres in the mercy of God and the merit
of Christ, in the grace of the covenant and
the blood of the cross, appears from the
scriptures with superior evidence. Out of
a multitude of instances recorded in the
Bible, we will select a few. We will ask
some of the most excellent saints that ever
adorned a religious profession in any age
of the world, or in any nation of men, on
what their hopes of acceptance with God
were founded? And we shall find that
their uniform answer will be, " not on any
thing in us, nor on any thing done by us ;
but on that glokious Person, and on his
FINISHED WORK, who is the desire of all
nations, and the salvation of all the ends of
the earth."

Job, we know, was a saint of no inferior
rank. He was no le.ss exemplary for hia
piety, than remarkable for his affhctions,
and the patience with which they were suf-
fered. He was favored with peculiar man-
ifestations of the divine will, and .Tehovah
himself declared there was "none like him
in the earth." This eminent saint could not
be ignorant of the real worth of his person-
al obedience, nor of the place in which it
ought to stand. No ; this obedience he
found occasion to plead, and speaks of it as
an article of great importance. But where,
and on what account? Not before the
great Sovereign of the universe, and in
order to acceptance with him ; but before
his fellow-mortals, and in vindication of his
own sincerity.

When his friends, mistaking his case, and
not being well acquainted with the methods
of providence, charged him with being a
hypocrite, and inferred from tlie variety and
severity of his sutfcrings that he must needs
be a wicked man, he pleaded in defence of
himself the excellence of his conduct and
the utility of his life. He, as the apostle
James requires, proved the reality of his
faith and the sincerity of his profession, by
his works. He knew that a different con-
duct from the carnal and profane, was the
only thing that could evidence to the world
file superiority of his state in the sight of
God, or free his profession from the charge
of hypocrisy. To this, therefore, he ap-

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

127

peals. This he strenuously and justly pleads
against the charge of his mistaken friends,
in his long controversy with them.

But when tiie inquiry is, how shall man
be jusl loith God, or justified before him ?
and what he is to plead, on what he is to
rely, for that purpose? then he considers
tlie state of the question as entirely altered.
The venerable saint well knew that as he
was before a higher tribunal, and in the
presence of a Judge who searches the heart,
so the righteousness pleadable there, must
be as much superior to what was sufficient
in the former case, as the tribunal at which
he stood was more awful, the Judge more
holy, or the event more important. For
who can stand, in any righteousness of his
own, before so holy a God, before so right-
eous a Judge ? There he knew that noth-
ing short of 'perfection would be admitted,
and that by nothing less could he be justi-
fied. He, therefore, entirely renounces his
former plea. He drops every pretension to
personal holiness. And, so far from ad-
vancing a claim on the Deity, he pours out
sorrowiul confessions of his original pollu-
tion and actual transgressions. " Behold, I
am vile !" is his language. " I abhor my-
self," as the filthiest of creatures, as the
basest of cruninals, "and repeut in dust
and ashes." Job, xi. 4, xlii. 6. Here we
see — not the Samaritan woman, not the
Philippian jailor, not the thief on the cross —
but the most eminent saint of his day, and
one of the holiest men that ever lived : here
we see him bearing the marks of deep hu-
miliation and sorrow, and in tlie attitude of
a miserable sinner ! His language is ex-
pres.?ive of one whose conscience is smitten
with an alarming sense of guilt, who depre-
cates deserved vengeance, and implores a
free pardon ; of one who considers himself
perfectly on a level, in the sight of God, as
to justification before him, with the publican
in the parable ; and as having no other
refuge for his guilty soul, nor any other
plea to make than that poor publican had.
Divine mercy, manifested in a living Re-
deemer, was the only hope of holy Job ;
and the same free mercy, revealed in the
atonement, was the hope and the plea of
the profligate publican. Job. xix. 25 — 27 ;
Luke, xviii. 13.

Such also was the conduct of the man
after God's own heart. " Enter not into
judgment with thy servant, for in thy sight
ehall no man living be justified. Ps. cxliii.
2. Language this, very strongly expressive
of the mind of one who is dead to the law.
Tiiese words plainly indicate that David's
heart was deeply impressed with an awful
sense of Jehovah's immaculate purity, the
imperfections attending his own obedience,
the extensive demands of the holy law, and
the terror of that sentence which ^^-ae hie

j righteous desert, and must unavoidably be
passed upon him, if tried by that sublime
standard of duty, and according to the tenor
I of his own conduct. And it is very observ-
able that when the Psalmist thus deprecates
the awful trial, he considers and styles him-
self a servant of God. But though he as-
sumes the honorable character, he is far
from pleading his services, or trusting to hi.s
own obedience for justification. Nay, he
peremptorily affirms that, before the Lord,
710 man, no servant of his, can be justified.
To these words the apostle refers when he
so often declares, "by the deeds of the law
shall no flesh be justified." This is a capi-
tal truth. And till this truth be cordially
embraced, till the propriety and foundation
of it be clearly seen, no one can form a
proper idea either of the character of Jesus,
or the grace of the gospel ; can either see
his danger, or seek for relief.

With this leading truth, the sweet singer
of Israel was thoroughly acquainted.
Hence it gains admittance into another of
his devout odes and inimitable composition.^,
in which he also inibrms us what was the
rock of his hopes and the source of his joy.
These are his words : " ^^ thou, Lord,
shouldst mark iniquities, O, Lord, who shall
stand ? But there is forgiveness with thee,
that thou mayest be feared." Ps. cxxx. 3, 4.
Instructive, important saying ! Most hap-
pily calculated to rebuke the pride of self-
righteous confidence, and raise the hopes
of desponding sinners. Here the Lord's
anointed flees for salety to sovereign grace,
and draws his comfort from pardoning mer-
cy. Being dead to the law, having all his
expectations of being justified by it entirely
extinguished, he looks to another covenant,
and has resource to another plea. Having
the awful judgment in view, and consider-
ing the issue of such an exact scrutiny, he
trembles at the thought of appearing before
his immortal Judge, in his own obedience.
For in such a way of proceeding, " who
shall stand ? who can be acquitted ?" Not
one of a thousand ; not one of a million ;
not one of all the human race. And were
it not for that forgiveness which is with God,
and is dispensed in the blood of the Lamb,
not only the hope of David, but that of
every sinner, would have been entirely and
eternally eclipsed. But this forgiveness
being worthy of God, proceeding from the
infinite riches of grace, and equal to the
wants of the most enormous transgressor,
behold, there is hope for the vilest ! For-
giveness ! charming word ! Forgiveness
WITH God, with him against wdioin we have
sinned, with him who has authority to par-
don, as well as power to punisb ; solid foun-
dation for your hopes, O, trembling sinner!
Believing this declaration, building on this
basis, what should hinder, or who has a

128

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

right to forbid, that our hopes should rise
sublime to heaven? that they should be
firm as the divine declaration, and bright as
the sun in his meridian glory ? Yes, be-
liever, this is your unalienable right ; this is
your inestimable privilege. For that
"strong consolation" the Lord is so willing
to bestow, and tor which he has made such
ample provision, is designed for all those
" who have fled for refuge to lay hold on
the hope set before them." Heb. vi. IS.
For such who have cdready fled, for such
who are now Jleeing to Jesus, the ap-
pointed refuge ; the immutability of the
divine counsel, the irrevocableness of the
divine promise, and the solemnity of the
divine oath, are all engaged to secure their
happiness and raise their joy.

Would the reader be more fully persuad-
ed that the royal prophet was dead to the
hiw? let him read the description which
David gives of the blessed man, and con-
sider his words. No man can, with pro-
priety, be called blessed, but he who is in a
pardoned state and accepted of God ; and
this the Psalmist intimates. For till his sins
be pardoned and his person accepted, he is
under a curse, and obnoxious to wrath.
How, then, does that experienced saint and
infallible author describe the blessed man?
and to what does he ascribe his justifica-
tion ? To a personal or an imputed righte-
ousness ? Does he attain this blessed and
happy state, does he enjoy this great and
precious privilege in consequence of keeping
the law, or because he has performed a
sincere, though imperfect obedience ? No
such thought was conceiv^ed in the Psalm-
ist's mind ; no such thing drops from his
pen. His words are, " blessed is be whose
transgression is forgiven, whose sin is cov-
ered. Blessed is the man unto whom the
Lord imputeth not iniquity, and in whose
spirit there is no guile." Ps. xxxii. 1, 2.
The blessed man is here described as one
who is in himself a polluted sinner ; an iti-
solvent debtor ; and deeply pressed in his
conscience with the weight of his guilt.*
And his blessedness arises, not from his own
duties, or his well-meant endeavors to keep
the law, but from the pardoning love of
God, tlie purifying blood of Jesus and
the sanctifying operations of the Holy
Spirit. His blessedness consists in being
cleaiised from his loathsome defilement, the
non-imputation of his enormous debt, the
removal of his intolerable burden, and the
renewal of a right spirit within him. The
last of which particulars is not the cause or

' The llircp terms used in the text to express the p;ir-
donng mercy of Gi)il,L'ive us tlicso three ideas cifM i.m
.8*1 forth, in a more alTectlng view, it.s various iiKdii;nity ;
and at thff same time to represent, in a more strikins liglil,
the complicated wretchedness of that man whose sins
are not forgiven, and to aliow llie superior excellence of
a free pardon.

condition of the former, but an evidence of
their being enjoyed.

The observation which Paul makes on
this evangelical and comfortable text, is
full to our purpose. He informs us that the
design of David in these words is, to " de-
scribe the blessedness of the man unto
whom God imputeth righteousness without
works." Rom. iv. 6, 7, 8. Righteousness
imputed — righteousness without works !
An odd kind of phrases in the account of
many. Uncouth and mysterious to all who
are alive to the law, and seeking justifica-
tion by it; but quite intelligible and highly
comforting to such as are dead to the law ;
to such who believe in Jesus, as the "justi-
fier of the ungodly," and venerate his
charming name, "the Lord our righte-
ousness." To such persons the phrases
are replete with marrow and fatness. Such
divine declarations feast their very souls.
For they are the words of grace and the
language of love. By them, under the di-
rection of the Holy Spirit, their anxious
inquiries about acceptance with the eternal
Sovereign are satisfied. Being conscious
that they have no righteousness of their
own, and equally certain that without a
perfect obedience to the divine law they
cannot be justified, they must have sunk in
despair, if such a provision had not been
made by sovereign grace ; if such a right-
eousness had not been performed by their
wonderful Substitute, as that which is here
designed. But a righteousness without
works ; having no dependence upon, being
entirely detached from, their own duties of
every kind ; being complete in itself, and
intended for their use ; this is the righte-
ousness they want: a righteousness im-
puted. Being performed for them by Jesus,
as their representative, and placed to their
account by a gracious God, this brings it
near to their souls, makes it warrantable
for them to call it their own. and glory in it.

Let us once more attend to the dictates,
and consider the conduct of Paul, in refer-
ence to this affair. That he was " dead to
the law," those important words which con-
tain the subject of this essay, expressly as-
sert. That he had no expectation of life
and happiness from his own obedience to
it ; and that his whole hope was resolved
into the sovereign grace of God and tlie
perfect work of Christ ; are things extreme-
ly evident from all his invaluable writings.
A few of those passages in which these fun-
damental truths are either expressly assert-
ed or strongly implied, shall now be consid-
ered.

In his controversial epistle to the deceiv-
ed Galatians, he forms a striking contrast
between the works of the law and faith in
Jesus. Thrice he mentions the works of the
laWf and thrice he excludes them from hav-

DEAtH OF LEGAL HOPE.

129

ing any, the least concern in our justifica-
tion. With equal frequency he mentions
the faith of Christ, and as often asserts
that we are justified by it.* These are his
words : " We who are Jews by nature,
and not sinners of the Gentiles, knowing
that a man is not justified by the works of
the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ ;
even we have believed in Jesus Christ, that
we might be justified by the faith of Christ,
and not by the works of the law : for by
the works of the law shall no flesh be justi-
fied." Gal. ii. 15, 16. We who are Jews
hy nature, and not sinners of the Gentiles —
we, who are the children of Abraham, and
the peculiar people of God — to whom the
sacred oracles were committed, who have
the ordinances of divine worship, and whose
situation in all respects is greatly superior
to that of the ignorant, profligate, idola-
trous Gentiles — we, who possess so many
advantages, in comparison with the benight
ed heathen, and, were such a thing practi
cable, have all the encouragement which
any person could have, to expect justifica-
tion by our own obedience ; yet we have
renounced every hope of that kind ; well
knowing thai a man, whether Jew or Gen
tile, is not justified by the works of the law j
being fully persuaded that he is not accept-
ed of God on account of any works which
he has done, by any assistance whatever,
but by the faith of Jesus Christ j by relying
on him as the end of the law for rigliteous-
ness. and believing on him as the justifier
of the ungodly. Rom. x. 4, iv. 5. Eveti
we, possessing such a conviction, and acting
under such a persuasion, have believed in
Jesus Christ; have renounced our own
righteousness, as being absolutely insufli-
cient, and betaken ourselves to tJie Lord
Messiah, under the humbling character of
guilty, helpless, perishing sinners ; and with
this professed design, that v)e might be jus-
tified by the faith of Ch/ist, and not by the
works of the law — that our sins might be
pardoned, and our persons accepted, in this
truly evangelical way ; no longer desiring,
nor any more attempting to seek these su-
perlative blessings by the works of the law,
whether they be moral or ceremonial. And
good reason we have to drop every such
pursuit— /or God himself has declared, and
it stands on everlasting record, to confound
every proud attempt to establish our own
obedience ; that by the works of the law
shall no flesh be justified. So that whether
we regard the divine declaration recorded
by the Psalmist, Psalm cxliii. 2, or wheth-
er we advert to the manifold imperiections
attending our best performance.?, we are

That i.s, not by the principle, or the exercise of faith,
but by the object of it; which ia Christ and his right-

eousness

Vol. 3

-a

fully assured that we never shall, that we
never can be justified by them. Such is
the purport of this apostolic testimony.

In this instructive text the zealous apos-
tle states, asserts, and defends the truth for
which we plead, in the most emphatical
and reiterated manner. This one passage,
therefore if considered in connection with
the scope and design of the whole epistle,
and the state of the Galatian churches at
the time in which it was written and ad-
dressed to them, may be justly esteemed a
decisive proof of the point. A decisive
proof that no man ever was accepted of
God, that no man ever caii be justified be-
fore him, by any holiness of which he is
the subject, or on account of any Avorks
which he has performed; and, consequently
that every true beUever is "dead to the
law."

The views of a man who is alive to the
law, and the hope of one who is dead to it,
are finely described by the same infallible
author, in his consolatory and instructive
letter to the church at Philippi. These
things he illustrates in his own experience
and conduct. The support of his hope,
and the views which he had before conver-
sion, he compares with what he after en-
joyed. While alive to the law, and before
conversion, the privileges of his birth, as a
son of the renowned Abraham, and his cir-
cumcision according to the divine command;
the zeal which he had for the traditions of
his fathers, and the strictness of his profess-
ion as a pharisee ; his punctual perform-
ance of ceremonial institutions, his un-
blameable conduct in the sight of men, and
his sincere obedience to the moral law ;
v/ere the things which he counted his great-
est gain, as constituting the foundation of
his hope of eternal life. These were the
ground of his self-righteous confidence, and
the fuel of his pharisaical pride. And if
trusting in these things had been lawful or
safe for any man, no one had greater ad-
vantages or a fairer pretence than Saul the
pharisee had. Philip, iii. 4.

But when apprehended by omnipotent
grace, Phil. iii. 12, and dead to the law, he
builds on another foundation, and speaks a
very different language. Then he declares
that all those things which he once account-
ed his highest gain, he now esteems not
only mean, in comparison with Christ, but
loss itself With an air of great solemnity,
and as going to utter a truth of the last im-
portance, he adds, "Yea, doubtless, and I
count all things but loss, for the excellency
of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord ;
for whom I suffered the loss of all things,
and do count them but dung, that I may
win Christ, and be found in him ; not hav-
ing mine ovm righteousness, which is of the
law, but that v/hich is through the faith of

130

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE,

Christ, the righteousness which is of God
by faith." PhiHp. iii. 8, 9.

Let us briefly consider the several claus-
es of this remarkable text. Yea, doubt-
less— I affirm it without the least hesitation,
and am determined to abide it. That I
count ALL THINGS, whether they be birth-
privileges or Pharisaical zeal, ceremonial
rites or moral duties — these, all these, not-
withstanding their splendid appearance to
an eye tinctured with Jewish prejudices, I
count but loss. Yea, I do not only thus re-

Jmdiate all my privileges, and all my per-
brmances belbre conversion, but ail my
apostolic gilts, and all my Christian graces .:
all that I have and all that I do, I esteem of
no avail in the grand article of justification.
These things, though abundantly useful
and highly excellent, when standing in
their proper places, and referred to suita-
ble ends, are little, are nothing, are loss
itself, compared with the eaxellency of the
knowledge of Chr-ist Jesits my Lord. Such
is the love I bear to my Saviour, and such
the esteem I have for his righteousness, that
for his sake / have gladly suffered the loss
of all things which 1 once so highly prized.
And however strange it may appear to a
mind leavened with legal pride. I again de-
clare that I count them despicable as the
sordid scraps which are thrown to the dogs,
and loathsome as dtmg, which is cast out of
sight. Such is the amount of my perform-
ances, and such my estimate of them, if set
in competition with Jesus, and presuming
to stand in the place of his righteousness.
It is, therefore, now my principal desire and
Bupreme concern that I may win Christ, as
quite sufficient to supply all my wants, and
render me completely and eternally happy.
That so, when the Judge ascends the throne,
and wrath makes inquisition for blood —
when none but the perfectly righteous shall
be able to stand, I may be found- in him,
the Beloved. Eph. i 6. For, being thus
found, my acceptance is certain, my salva-
tion is sure. Not having, not depending
upon or pleading mine own righteousness,
which is of the law ; my inherent holiness
with which I am endued as a Christian,
and those righteous acts I have been ena-
bled to perform, in compliance with the sa-
cred precepts, and with a view to the glory
of God ; but being adorned with, and de-
pending upon that glorious obedience which
ts thrmigh the faith of Christ ; which was
finished by him, is revealed in the gospel
and received by faith. Even that obedi-
ence which, to denote its absolute perfec
tion and the manner in which the sinner en-
joys it to his comfort, is called the right
E0USNES9 OF GoD BY FAITH. Thus Ga-
maliel's pupil, thus the apostle of Christ
delivers his faith, and describes the founda-
tion of his hope of future acceptance. And

this declaration he made on purpose to
guard the Philippian converts against the
subtle attacks of^ Judaizing teachers, Phil-
ip, iii. 1, 2, who strenuously contended that
something more was necessary to justifica-
tion, than the righteousness of the divine
Redeemer, and a reliance upon it — which
consideration renders the argument from
this passage the more strongly conclusive
in proof of the point in hand.

Let us hear another infallible teacher
and faitliful follower of the Lamb, when
delivering not his own private sentiments
but the faith of the church, and in the name
of all the apostles. A controversy being
raised about the necessity of circumcision
in order to salvation, which was carried on
by the Jewish zealots with no small degree
of warmth, and not without much disturb-
ance to the peace of believers ; and the
apostles and elders being convened at Jeru-
salem to consider the unhappy affair, Peter,
after mentioning various things, concludes
with a short but comprehensive declaration,
of his own faith, and the faith of the church
general. Let us attentively hear his
words, and diligently consider their import.
For he speaks by the Holy Ghost, and de-
livers the mind of Christ. He speaks on a
weighty occasion, and to determine an im-
portant controversy. The controversy in
fact was, whether Jesus only should have
the glory of the sinner^s salvation, or wheth-
er human endeavors and human worthiness
ought not to share it with him ? Thus the
contest lay between the grace of God and
the pride of man ; and thus it still contin-
ues, however the terms of the question may
be varied, or whatever disguises may be
put on it.

The decision given to this controversy in
those times, and what will be always valid,
is contained in the following words : " But

WE BELIEVE THAT THROUGH THE GRACE OF

OUR Lord Jesus Christ we shall be sav-
ed." Acts XV. 11. Salvation is that all-
comprehensive blessing which the awaken-
ed sinner wants. Let this be granted, and
his desires are satisfied; he can have no
more. For it includes a complete deliver-
ance from every evil, and the full enjoy-
ment of every good. Now this infinitely
glorious blessing is expressly said to be hy
grace — and grace is free favor. In the
sacred writings it is directly opposed to all
works and worthiness. Nor can it be other-
wise. For where works and worthiness
come into consideration, there the province
of grace ceases.* When, therefore, it is
affirmed by the oracle of heaven, that we
are saved by grace, we are led to conclude,
that our own duties, however sincere or

' Gratia non erit gratia ullo ruodo, nisi sit gratuitaom^
Di modo. Acta Synod. Dordrtch. Par. III. p. 211.

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE,

131

however diversified, have no part in the
wonderful work. But thsit favor, free, sov-
ereign favor, is all in all. The foundation
of the spiritual temple, and of our eternal
happiness, was laid in the riches of grace.
The stones are polished, and the super-
structure is reared by the hand of omnipo-
tent grace. And when the last stone in the
magnificent edifice shall be laid, it will be
with shoutings, " grace ! grace unto it !"
Zech. iv. 7. It was free, sovereign grace
which distinguished the vessels of mercy,
in the eternal decree of election. The rea-
son why they were chosen rather than oth-
ers, is to be resolved, not into any difference
there was originally between them and
those who finally perish, nor into any good
works ibreseen, but into tlie sovereign will
of him who says, " I will have mercy on
whom I will have mercy."* The same
grace was concerned in the constitution of
the everlasting covenant of peace, which
was made with Christ, as tlie head of the
chosen seed, and treasuring up all spiritu-
al blessings in him. on their behalf. Eph.
i. 3. 1 Tim. i. 9. Our redemption by his
blood, our regeneration, justification, adop-
tion, sanctification, perseverance, and final
felicity, all spring from the same infinite
source, and are all ascribed, in the volume
of mspiration, to the same original and
glorious cause.

And as Christ is the great trustee of the
covenant of grace, and the grand reposito-
ry, of all the blessings of grace, so infinite
grace is manifested in him in such a man-
ner as to reflect a glory on all the perfec-
tions of Deity, as well as to secure salva-
tion to all its objects. And as it was an
act of unutterable condescension, and an
evidence of boundless love in the Son of
God, to undertake the arduous work, and
_ become incarnate that he might accomplish
it, so we are, with the greatest propriety, said
to be saved by his grace ; as in the text un-
der consideration — " we believe that through
the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, we
shall be saved." We believe — we are fully

* RoiD. ix. 15. The doctrine of sovereig7i distiv.guish-
ing grace., it must be acknowledged, is too generally ex-
ploded as a fiction. It is now discarded, as not fitted to
gain the assent of the free inquirer, in so enlightened
and polite an a^e as the present. The opposers of it
generally plead its supposed inconsistency with the ideas
we naturally have of the perfections of the Supreme
Being. But the reason, the true reason is its inconsist-
ency with the pri'rf? of man. and the opinion of human
worthiness, which so generally prevail. And here, it
must be owned, there is an entire and eternal repugnan-
cy. Thai being cordially received, these must fall to the
ground, as Dagon before the ark. Hence it is that we
are naturally so loth to embrace this humbling truth.
Yea. some there are who freely confess that salvation is
by Christ only, and through his imputed righteousness,
who are not easily brought to admit the doctrine of eter-
nal, personal, and unconditional election into titeir creed
And. though their experience may plead for it, though
their other avowed sentiments m&y involve it— yet they
dispute against it, as commonly and justly staled by
Calvinists, and endeavor to load it witli hoi-rid conse-
quences. This the writer of these pages knows by ex-

persuaded, and rest in it as a certain, sa-
cred, and most comfortable truth — that
though our state be extremely miserable,
and our persons absolutely unworthy ;
though we have forfeited every blessing,
and deserve every curse ; yet, through the
grace, the unmerited favor and boundless
benignity of our Lord Jesus Christ we shall
be saved; He being a person of infinite
dignity, has performed a work ol" infinite
value, in virtue of which we shall be com-
pletely saved : saved, while here, from the
curse of the law and the dominion of Sa-
tan ; saved hereafter, from the being of sin
and the damnation of hell — so perfectly
saved as to fear no evil ; so perfectly bless-
ed as to want no good. Such a salvation
did grace provide ; such a salvation does
Christ perform.

In this truly apostohcal creed, which was
delivered by Peter and recorded by Luke,
the grace of God, and the work of our Lord,
are all in all. And as it ascribes our whole
salvation to the undertaking of Jesus, so it
secures the whole glory to hjs adorable
name. The avowed belief and the com-
fortable hope of the primitive Chiistians
being contained in it, we have a striking in-
stance, and an irrefragable proof, that they
were dead to the law ; that the peace of
their minds in time, and their hopes of bliss
in eternity, did not arise from their own
obedience, but from that revelation of di-
vine grace which is made in the gospel —
that sovereign grace which richly provided
every blessing, and freely furnishes every
requisite, necessary to everlasting bliss.

Having considered Ihis apostolical con-
fession of faith, as it is preserved for our in-
struction in the most authentic history of
the primitive Christian church, let us once
more advert to the writings of Paul. We
have already heard him declare that he
was "dead to the law." We have also
heard him loudly proclaim the excellence
of that righteousness by which he was jus-
tified, and in which he desired to be found ;
and seen him carefully describe the foun-

perience, to his grief and shame. Through the ignor-
ance of his mind, the pride of his heart, and the preju-
dices of his education ; he, in his younger years, often
opposed it with much warmth, though with no small de-
gree of weakness. But, after an impartial inquiry, and
many prayers, he found reason to alter his judgment.
He found it to be the doctrine of the Bible, and a dictate
of the unerring Spirit. Bein-j thus patronized, he re-
ceived the once obnoxious sentiment under a full con-
viction of its being a divine truth. And now he consid-
ers the eternal, disciiminating love of God, in the choice
of his people, as the original source of all those spiritual
blessings they here enjoy ; of all that glory they hereaf-
ter expect. To the distinguishing love of the Father,
to the redeemitig blood of tlie Son ; to the almighty agen-
cy and sanctifying operations of the Divine Spirit, he
now desires to ascribe the unrivalled honor of a com-
plete, eternal salvation. In the firm belief of this glori-
ous and comprehensive truth, he desires to lire ; enjoy-
ing the sweet consolations arising from it, he desires to
die. And if tlie Lord thus favor him, he does not fear
but his life will be vseful. in some degree — his death
peaceful, and his end salvation.

132

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

dation on which the most guilty may safely
rest the weight of their immortal concerns.
Let us now observe him bitterly lamenting
over his unhappy brethren after the flesh.
These are his affecting words, which are
introduced with a solemn appeal to heaven,
" / have great heaviness and conlinual sor-
row in my heart, for my brethren, my kins-
men according to the flesh.'''' To which he
adds, '• my hearts desire and prayer to God
for Israel is, that they might be saved."
Rom. ix. 2, 3, x. 1. What was the cause
of this inconsolable grief? Were they
scandalous in their lives, and atrociously
wicked ? Had they renounced the worship
of God and sunk into practical atheism ?
Far from it. The persons over whom he
laments, had a " zeal of God," and earnest-
ly " followed after righteousness ;" were
sincere in their profession, and diligent in
the pursuit of eternal happiness. Of this
Paul was a witness, and this he openly tes-
tifies. Rom. X. 2, ix. 31. In what, then,
did their fatal mistake consist? For the
popular maxim, and the reason on which it
is ibunded, are, '• Be sincere. Perform ev-
ery duty to the utmost of your power and
the best of your knowledge, and you shall
obtain the favor of God and the fruition of
heaven. For it cannot be supposed that
where the heart is sincere in the worship of
God, and the conduct regular in the sight
of men, a person's state can be bad, what-
ever may be his doctrinal sentiments."
Such is the voice of general opinion, but
not of divine revelation. For if this maxim
were founded in truth, there would have
been no occasion for the apostle's heartfelt
sorrow over those of his brethren he here
mentions. If, therefore, we would pay a
due deference to the judgment of Paul, as
an infallible guide, and credit the account
which he gives of his kinsmen, and his sor-
row for them, we must conclude that the
maxim is false, and the reason on which it
is founded, a dangerous mistake. And
consequently, supposing a man to act in
perfect conformity to it, his state might yet
be extremely awful, and his end eternally
miserable.

The Jews, over whom the compassionate
apostle wept, were alive to the law, and
seekingjustification by it. Though sincere
in a religious profession, and punctual in
their attendance on divine institutions, they
were utterly ignorant of the gospel, and
despisers of the great Redeemer. That
"sure foundation" which Jehovah had laid
in Zion for the salvation of his people, was
rejected by them as insufficient, and became
to them " a rock of offence." Rom. ix. 33.
They "followed after the law of righteous-
ness," with sincerity and zeal ; but its terms
were too high, and its conditions too hard
for them to perform, so that they could not

attain justification by it. For (hey sought
that capital blessing, not by faith in their
promised Messiah, " but as it were by the
works of the law." Rom. ix. 31, 32. They
" had a zeal of God," and a concern for his
worship; but not according to "know-
ledge," as their conduct plainly showed.
" For they being ignorant of God's " right-
eousness"— of the perfect purity of his na-
ture, and the extensive demands of his law,
" and going about," or seeking by every
likely expedient, "to establish their own
righteousness," as the condition of life —
"have not submitted themselves to the
righteousness of God." Such was the un-
warrantable opinion they had of their own
imperfect duties, and so great was the pride
of their hearts, that they would not accept
of that complete righteousness which was
appointed of God and provided by him ;
even that righteousness which is able to
justify in the most desperate cases, and in
which their offended Maker is well pleased.
Isa. xlii. 21. Would we know more par-
ticularly what obedience it is that deserves
the glorious character? The apostle in-
forms us : " For Christ is the end of the
law." All that it requires, he performed ;
all that it threatens, he underwent. And
this, all this was done and suffered, not
merely to set us an example, but " for right-
eousness ;" a real, perfect righteousness.
As such it is accounted by the law, and
accepted by the Lawgiver. Nor was it
designed for the benefit of him who per-
formed it; but it was designed for sinners,
and is freely imputed " to every one that
believeth," without any respect of persons,
or any regard to worthiness. Rom. x. 3, 4.
To this matchless obedience, the self-
righteous Jews would not submit. Being
ignorant of their real state, and in the warm
pursuit of acceptance with the infinite Sove-
reign, by their own duties, they were un-
willing to admit the thouffht of being in-
debted to grace, or beholden to such an
assistance. To look for justification by the
righteousness of one whom their rulers had
agreed to execrate, and condemned as wor-
thy of death ; to expect salvation through
believing in one who, loaded with infamy
and racked with torture, expired on a cross ;
this they esteemed highly absurd. A sal-
vation by such unpromising means, and
granted in such a singular way, as left no
room for their splendid duties to make a
figure and shine conspicuous, as co-partners
in the affair ; such a salvation they would
not accept — they thought themselves war-
ranted from their hearts to despise. Nor
would they acknowledge that Jesus, the
crucified, Avas their promised Messiah ;
though the time in which he appeared, the
doctrines he taught, and the works which
he did, all attested his divine mission, and

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

133

afforded the brightest evidence in support I bottom? Is that your plea at the throne of
of his claim to the character. Thus they grace ; and is it your ardent desire to be

rejected his person, doctrine, and work
And as ignorance of the holiness of God,
the purity of his law and the evil of sin,
laid a Ibundation for that proud opinion

found in it when standing at the great tri-
bunal? There, reader, you must shortly
stand, before a Judge whose eyes are " as
a flame of fire," and with whom " is terrible

they entertained of the excellence of their [majesty." Examine, therefore, the state of
' " ' ■ ■ ■ 1 • ^i-_! your soul, and cultivate an acquaintance

with Jesus Christ. The fruits of an in-
creasing acquaintance with him, are truly
desirable and unspeakably precious. For
the more you behold of his personal glories
and perfect obedience, the less will you be
inclined to cleave to the law, or depend on
your own defective duties. This is a cer-
tain truth, and confirmed by all Christian
experience. For though you will not be
inclined to reject the law as a rule of con-
duct, or to neglect duty as an evidence of
your cordial submission to divine authority,
and of gratitude for benefits received and
blessings expected, yet you will have a
meaner opinion of all that you do, and a
stronger confidence in the work of your
Saviour. Besides, the peace you enjoy
will be steadier, and the works you perform
will be more spiritual. Your peace will be
steadier : for the more clearly you see the
dignity of him who made your peace, the
greater will the worth of that work appear
by which it was made. Consequently your
dependence upon it will be more firm ; your
rejoicing in it will be more constant. Your
duties will be more sjnritual : for in propor-
tion as your views of the infinite all-suffi-
ciency of the divine Mediator increase, so
will your love to him. " Beholding, as in a
glass, the glory of the Lord, we are chang-
ed into the same image, from glory to glo-
ry." And as the love of God is the princi-
ple of all acceptable obedience, in propor-
tion as that generous principle is more
lively and active, duty will be performed
with greater delight and diligence, and it
will also be more certainly referred to its
proper end, tlie glory of the ever blessed
God,
Yes, believer, in such a procedure you

own duties, and as that issued in their re
jection of the Lord's Messiah, so the same
ignorance and pride cause the generality
now to reject his imputed righteousness, as
an unnecessary thing ; even when they do
not proceed to that daring infidelity which
pours open contempt on his person and
character. Hence we may safely conclude,
that all the supine negligence about eter-
nal things which appears in the world, and
all that disregard which is shown to Christ
and his work, where the gospel revelation
ehines, proceeds from ignorance — ignorance
of the evil of sin, and the righteousness oi^
God in his law.

And now, reader, are you " dead to the
law ?" Are all your expectations and all
your desires of justification by it extinct?
Remember, it is one thing to acknowledge
a truth in theory, and another to live under
its practical influence. Many there are
who have learned, in a doctrinal Avay that
beJievers are dead to the law, who yet, in
the dispositions of their hearts and in their
own experience, were never divorced i>om
it. Their legal apprehensions and slavish
fears, their mercenary views in the perform-
ance of duty, and their self-elating thoughts,
when they imagine they have performed it
well, are evidences that they cleave to the
law. These, when habitual, are a convin-
cing proof that they are alive to it, that
they are still, in a partial way, seeking tlieir
peace and happiness from their own obe-
dience.*

Again : What think you of the Redeem-
er's righteousness ? Have you a superla-
tive esteem for it, and is it with you the
" one thing needful ?" Do you repose your
confidence in that only, for acceptance, and
venture your all for eternity, on that single

■ Hero it may be proper to obsei-ve, tl;at the real be-
liever, even after a Ions; experience in the ways of God,
is too ready to look to disown frames an 3 dunes for that
peace anil cotnfort wtiich nothing but the blood of Christ
and Ihe testimony of the Spirit can pos-ibly give. A le-
gal bias of mini is so natural to us, and our views of ilie
Saviour and his glorious righteousness are, at the best,
Eo contracted, that we often lose sisrht of the excellent
object before we are aware. The candid reader and ex-
perienced Christian will not be offended if I here intro-
duce a paragraph extracted from the life of a minister of
the gospel in the last century; as it may, in some de-
gree, both illustrate and confirm this observation. The
minister to whom I refer, was Mr. Owen Stockton, a part
of whose experience is contain t^d in Ihe following words:
" I find that though in my judgmeiil and profession I ac
knowledi;e Christ to be my righteousness and peace, yet
upon examination I observe that my heart hath done
quite another thing; and that secretly I have gone about
to establish my own righteousness, and have derived my
comfort and i)eace from my men actings. For when I
have been disquieted by the acting of my sins, that which
Jiath recovered me to my former peace haUi not been

that I coujdfiiid God speaking peace through the blood of
Christ, but rather from the intermission of temptation,
and the cessation of those sins. When 1 have been
troubled at an evil frame of heart, I do not find that the
righteousness of Christ hath been my consolition ; but
that which has relieved me, as far as I can find, was, th.it
afterwards I have found myself in a better temper. Hav-
ing been in trouble and perplexity, I have read the .scrip-
ture, gone to prayer, and in doing these I have been re-
lieved ; yet I do not find that at such times I had a real,
true, living communion with God in such duties, or that
the Spirit of God did, in those duties, reveal to me my
interest in Christ, and so quiet my conscience. Hence
I come to see what great need I have, and that it is of
singular use to watch over my soul in all its ways, both
in reference to sin, that I/a// not into it ; and when fallen
what the carriage and actings of my soul are at such a
time ; whether I flee for relief to God in Christ or lo my
own Works. For as Satan keeps some alienated from
God by the gross pollutions of the world, so others from
Christ, by their establishingarighteousnessof theirowi;.
O, Lord ! break thou thi.s' snare for me." In Beart'a
Etem. Law and Ever. Ooap. Part. i. Pref. p. 16, 16.

134

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

will find your spiritual account, and grace [
shallhavethe glory. Faith will grow firmasj
the deep-rooted cedar, Col. ii. 7. Eph. iii. |
17, and nope bright as the day. Love will|
expand the heart, and holiness blossom as
the rose. The life will be vocal to the Re-
deemer's praise, and death even death it-
sell", peaceful in his soft embrace.

" Reveal blessed Jesus ! reveal thy glory
to mine eye, and shed abroad tliy love in
my heart. Cause me to rest completely
satisfied in thy undertaking, as the fulfilling
end of the law. and enable me to live upon
thy inexhaustable fulness. Empty me of
every sell-dependence, and make me truly
humble. Show me the beauty of holiness,
as delineated in thy most perfect pattern ;
and help me to copy it in my own conduct.
Raise my affections to heavenly things,
and grant me the abiding earnest of my
eternal inheritance. Then, though in a sin-
ful world and a militant state, though har-
rassed with bodily pain, or pinched with
worldly poverty, I shall not only be safe
but happy. The slavish fears of damna-
tion shall be far distant, and the beams of
celestial joy shall shine into my soul. Then,
ye sons of sensuality and children of pride,
ye may take your sordid pleasures and
boast of your tinsel honors. I shall neither
covet your lawless mirth, nor envy your
sounding titles. Being dead to the law and
alive to my God, being safe in the hands
of my Saviour, and blest with a sense of his
love, having death in remembrance, and
heaven in view, I despise your mean pur-
suits, and abhor your illicit enjoyments.
While the world are satisfied with the feath-
er of fading honors, and the froth of per-
ishing pleasures, be it thy concern, O, my
soul ! to glorify him who died for thee and
rose again. Then shall substantial pleas-
ures be thy present enjoyment, and unfad-
ing honors thy eternal crown."

SECTION IV.
Of the law, as dead to believers.

Having shown that believers are dead to
the law, we shall now consider the law as
dead to them.

Whoever is dead to the law as a cove-
nant, the law, under that consideration, is
dead to him. As the relation is mutual,
while it subsists at all, so is the death. Con-
sidered as the offspring of Adam, we are
born under the law, as a covenant ; we
look to it for life, and continue in tliat situ-
ation while unregenerate. But when the
Spirit of God enlightens the mind to dis
cem our state, and awakens the conscience
to apprehend our danger, all our expecta

tions of life by our own obedience being
blasted, and having fled to Jesus Christ as
" the end of the law," and taken shelter
under another covenant, we are no longer
under it, as prescribing the condition of
Ufe, nor any more liable to its awful curse.
It is dead, and our deliverance from it is
complete and glorious.

This comfortable truth we are taught, by
the pen of inspiration, in the epistle of Paul
to the Romans. Thus we read — " Know
ye not brethren (for I speak to them that
know the law) how that the law hath do-
minion over a man as long as it liveth.*
For the woman which hath an husband, is
bound by law to her husband, so long as
he liveth; but if the husband be dead, she
is loosed from the law of her husband.
So then, if while her husband liveth, she
be married to another man, she shall be
called an adultress ; but if her husband be
dead, she is free from that law ; so that she
is no adultress, though she be married to
another man. Wherefore, my brethren, ye
also are become dead to the law by the body
of Christ, that ye should be married to
another, even to him who is raised from the
dead. But now we are delivered from the
law, that being dead wherein we were
held." Rom. vii. 1, 2, 3, 4, 6. On this re-
markable passage we may observe that the
divine law, by a usual figure of speech, is
described as a person. It is compared to a
husband, to whom some are married, and
to whom others are dead. To the law, in
its covenant form, men naturally cleave, as
a wife to her husband. They look to it for
life, and on it tliey depend for salvation.
Their hopes of happiness and fears of
misery rise and fall in exact proportion to
that obedience which they suppose them-
selves to perform, in conformity to its com-
mands, or the consciousness they have of
their disobedience to it. Such expecta-
tions and fears prove that they are alive to
it ; and that implies that it is alive to them.
And while alive to them, it has dominion
over them.

This dominion of the law is absolute. It
extends to all the powers of the mind, and
all the members of the body ; to all the im-
aginations of the heart, and all their effects
in the life : and it requires, on the dreadful
peril of incurring its severest displeasure,
and suffering its heaviest curse, that all
these in every instance, and perpetually,
should perfectly correspond with its right-
eous demands. This the apostle illustrates
in the following manner : " For the woman
which hath an husband, is bound by the
law to her husband, so long as he livetli."

* That the apostle here designs the law, not the man,
ha8 been obscn-ed by many. And so understood, it
seeiris iiiurh better lo a^rpf with the following illuatra-
lion, and with the Bcope of the place in geueial.

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE,

135

In like manner, all who are alive to the law,
and married to it, are bound to obey it in all
things, so long as it lives. Nothing but death
can dissolve the obligation. Either the law, as
a husband, must die to the sinner, or the
sinner, as wedded to the law, must die to
all expectations of" justification by it, before
he can be loosed from its commands, as

{)rescribing the condition of life, or be freed
rom its tremendous threatenings. And that
this twofold death takes place, as to the law
and the regenerate man, the unerring wri-
ter proceeds to assert : " But if her hus-
band be dead, she is loosed from the law
of her husband." As that relation on which
the law of marriage was founded, is entire-
ly dissolved and extinct by the husband's
death, so the law itself must unavoidably
and absolutely cease, together with all its
consequences. And as the wife has no
further expectations of assistance from him,
he being dead, so she has no longer any
fear of incurring his displeasure. And be-
ing thus set free from her former husband,
she is entirely at liberty to " marry another
man," without being chargeable with the
crime of adultery.

Now the apostle proceeds to apply the
comparison. Wherefore, my brethren, just
such is your case. The law, as a husband,
was once alive, and had dominion over you,
but now it is dead. Ye also were once
alive to the law, but are now become dead
to it. Having seen its infinite purity, and
felt its killing power, 2 Cor. iii. 6, 7, ye were
obliged to acknowledge that ye could not
be justified by it. Forced, though reluc-
tant, ye quitted your self-righteous hopes.
But, having heard the glorious gospel, and
being enabled, by the sacred Spirit, to be-
hold the body of Christ, that body which
the Son of God assumed when he conde-
scended to be made under the law : and
viewing the glory of that obedience which
he wrought out, and the greatness of those
sufferings which he underwent in that im-
maculate body, to satisfy the law and jus-
tify sinners ; with the utmost readiness ye
renounced your own righteousness. Hav-
ing found Jesus, the pearl of great price,
and in him all that you want, ye freely re-
linquished your former pleas. Thus ye be-
came dead to the law, that ye should- be mar-
ried to another and a better husband ; even
to HIM who died on the cross to atone for
your sins, and is raised from the dead to
present you complete. Yes, my brethren,
that adorable Person is now become the
object of your strongest affection and your
chaste regards. To him ye look tor every
assistance ; on him ye depend for all your
salvation. This being our happy case, we
are now delivered from the law. Its do-
minion over us is entirely ceased. It has
no more authority to demand obedience

from us, more or less, as the condition of
life ; or to denounce a curse upon us for
disobedience. Nor can it be otherwise
with us, as believers, or with the law as a
covenant. For the inspired author adds,
as a reason of his former assertion, that
being dead wherein we were held. We
were bound by the law to sinless obedience.
That was the least it required. And for
non-performance it held us accursed. Thus
we were held by it and under it. But now
it is dead. The obligation we were under
to perfect, personal obedience, as the con-
dition of life, is therefore cancelled. Nor
are we any longer obnoxious to its penal
sanction ; for we " are not under the law,
but under grace." Happy deliverance !
Wonderful change ! Such is the purport
of this important paragraph.

Nor has the law, as a covenant, the least
room to complain ; for this way of deliver-
ance from its high demands and awful sanc-
tion, is as equitable in itself as it is com-
fortable to the believer. Its precepts
were not given, nor its curse denounced in
vain. For though the chosen of God were
utterly unable to perform the one or suffer
the other, in their own persons, yet, in their
Head Representative, and Surety, its pre-
cepts were inviolably kept, and on him its
curse was fully executed. It was entirely
on their behalf that the Eternal Word be-
came incarnate. It was in their name and
in their stead that he obeyed the commands
of the law, and suffered its penalty. And
all this being according to the eternal com-
pact, in the counsels of heaven, and to
manifest the riches of divine grace in the
salvation of the guilty, it is imputed to
them, they are invested with it. Theirs it
was, in Ihe design of God, before they had
a being, or time began ; which secured
from final condemnation. Theirs it is, in
the happy enjoyment, when dead to the
law, which frees them from slavish fears,
which produces in them a holy liberty and
heavenly joy. Theirs it is to justify and
save ; to render complete in the eye of the
law, and eternally blessed in the fruition of
God.

While sinners are alive to the law, and
the law has dominion over them, its requi-
sitions are high and its language is terrible ;
for " whatsoever things the law," as a cov-
enant, '■ saith, it saith to them that are un-
der the law." But, when dead to it, and
when they commence believers, it address-
es them in a milder tone, and with sweeter
accents. Viewing them in Jesus Christ,
their exalted head, its pacific language is, " I
own myselfentirelyfulfilled; I acknowledged
myself completely satisfied. True it is, my
nature is not in the least altered ; my re-
quirements are not at all abated ; my end,
as commanding, is still a perfect righteoutc

136

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

ness ; Rom. x. 4, my end, as violated, is still
extreme pvmishment. Gal. iii. 10. 1 can-
not but require perfect love to God, pcrfert
love to man, and perfect holiness, both in
heart and life. Never abating the least tittle
of these demands, I denounce tiie cur-se on ev-
ery offender, and on the least departure from
absolute perfection. But here believers, is
your safety, and this is your comfort, that my
precepts have been fully obeyed by Jesus,
your substitute. This obedience I consider
as far superior to the spotless innocence of
your first father, while in the bowers of par-
adise, or the sanctity of angels in the glory
of heaven. It is possessed of infinite worth,
and by it I am highly magnified. Isa. xlii.
21. This is your comfort, believers, that
the curse due to your sins has been execut-
ed on your most holy Surety ; and his suf-
ferings were more than tantamount to your
eternal misery. And as he performed tliat
matchless obedience, and underwent those
unparalleled sufferings, in your nature, and
professedly in your stead, I am thoroughly
satisfied, and you are completely justified.
Now, though I cannot dispense with the
least fault, or connive at any infirmity, yet I
behold all your faults laid on Immanuel ;
I behold all his righteousness put upon you ;
and on his account I acquit you from guilt :
I accept you as righteous, and pronounce
you worthy of eternal life. Hail, ye high-
ly favored of the Lord ! Ye are wise ; ye
are safe ; ye are happy ! My Author
and your God has pronounced you blessed ;
and shall I seek to reverse it? Your Re-
deemer has died, your Redeemer is risen ;
and shall I dispute whether satisfaction was
made ? How shuU I curse whom theL ord hath
not cursed ? Or how shall J defy whom the
Liordhatlinotdejied?" Such is the language
of the divine law to him that believes in
the Lord Redeemer ; and in this, justice
herself acquiesces, while both agree to
expedite and ascertain his eternal salva-
tion.*

What reason, then, has the believer to re-
joice " with joy unspeakable and full of glo-
ry ?" To rejoice, not in himself, but in the
Lord his RiGHTEorsNE.ss. Joy in the Lord
is his exalted privilege. Philip, iv. 4, and
thankfulness to God should be his constant
business. For in the Redeemer's obedi-
ence he is not only pardoned and freed from
puni.shinent, but is also the object of divine
complacency. Though in himself loath-
some with impurity, and foul as the dung-
hill, laden with guilt and obnoxious to ruin,
yet, being interested in this most excellent
righteousness, and vested with this most
beautiful robe, he is pronounced righteous
by infinite justice, and declared absolutely

■ Hervey's Letters to W.-Blf)-, jjp 134. 136.

fair in the eye of Omniscience. Numb;
xxiii. 21. Jer. i. 20; Cant. iv. 7. Eph. v.
27. Col; i. 22; While alive to the law, the
righteousness ill which he trusted was but
" filth)^ rags." It could neither procure par-
don for his sins, nor peace for his con-
science ; neither adorn him for the glory
of heaven, nor screen him from the ven-
geance of hell. But this — being wrought,
finished, and infinitely ennobled, by our in-
carnate God, this, O believer is all in all.
By this you have pardon of sin, and peace
with your Maker ; are delivered from death,
and entitled to glory. This renders you
meet for the marriage supper of the Lambj
and in it you shall shine to all eternity.

And, lest any awakened sinner should
complain — " though the righteousness be
infinitely glorious, it is quite out of my
reach," be it observed, that the righteous-
ness itself, and all the blessings connected
with it, are gifts of the freest grace. And
they are all designed, not to distinguish
merit, but to enrich the indigent and relieve
the miserable. Come then, trembling sin-
ner, seeing your poverty and feeling your
misery, you have an indisputable right to
rely on the righteousness and expect the
blessings. The divine declaration excludes
none, no, not the vilest, that are wilhng to
come to Jesus. John vi. 37. Matt. xi. 28,
The most enormous crimes, and tlie great-
est unworthiness, are no objection at all,
on the part of the Saviour. Why, then,
should they be a discouragement to you?
Remember, awakened sinner, that it is
GRACE to which you must apply for relief ;
and grace, in tlie very nature of things, has
no concern but with the unworthy. Is it
salvation, a great salvation, you want?
Who then are the proper objects of such
a favor ? The holy ? the righteous ? those
who can help themselves ? No : but the
the guilty ; the miserable ; the damna-
ble. These — let the desponding hear and
rejoice I and let the mouth of proud infidel-
ity be forever stopped — these are the prop-
er objects of a great, a free, a divine sal-
vation. On such, grace will be magnified.
From such, Immanuel will have the glory
which is due to his sacred and charming
name, Jesus. May the Lord the Spirit,
whose office it is to lead into all truth, and
to glorify Christ, dii-ect my reader's inqui-
ries, and satisfy his doubts. May he die
to the law and all sell-righteous hopes.
Tiien shall the law be dead to him ; and,
I being married to the heavenly Bridegroom,
I interested in liis ])erson, and endowed with
I his riches, he shall "bring forth fruit unto
God." Rom. vii. 4. His soul shall be peace-
ful, and his life useful. He shall be attend-
ed here with inviolable safety ; hereafler he
sliall enjoy unutterable bliss.

DEATH OP LEGAL HOPE.

137

SECTION V.

Believers dead to the law, that they might
live to God.

Some, perliaps, may be ready thus to in-
fer: "If blievers are dead to the law, and
the law be dead to tliem, they are quite at
liberty to live as they please. They may
sin without control from the law, and with-
out any remorse of conscience. Their own
obedience not being a condition of their
pardon and justification, having no liand in
procuring the favor of God, or the salva-
tion of their souls ; tliere is no occasion for
it. They may launch out into licentious-
ness, and their state be equally sate, their
end equally happy, as if they were diligent
in the performance of duty, and strictly
self-denying." In answer to such an ignor-
ant cavil, and in confutation of such a talse
Surmise, I shall only observe, that the great
apostle has drawn a very different conclu-
sion from the same premises. For he says,
"I am dead to the law, that I might" —
what? commit iniquity with greediness, and
sin with impunity.? By no means: but
<'that I might live onto God."

The glory of God is the ultimate end of
our existence itself, and of ail we enjoy.*
All the dispensations of his providence, and
all the blessings of grace, perfectly harmo-
nize in accomplishing the grand design.
But the blessings of grace, being much
more glorious in themselves, more benefi-
cial to us, and truly astonishing in the man-
ner of their communication, are more fully
adapted to answer that sacred purpose.
In such a light the believer views them.
As calculated to answer so high an end, he
delights in them, and is thankful for them.
And, as living to God is his duly, so he es-
teems it his privilege, and desires to make
it his constant business.

The persons of whom we speak are said to
iioe. They live, not only an animal and a
rational, but also a spiritual life. This life
they received from Christ. As it is writ-
ten, " the hoar is coming, and now is, when
the dead" in sin " shall hear the voice of
the Son of God, and they that hear shall
live." John v. 25. And as they received
their life from him, so it is maintained by
him. Its continuance, vigor, and exercise,
depend on their union with him, and the

• This capital trutli is here taken for granted ; but if
therei'ier .h-iire lo SPe it demonsiratcil. he iii:iv recfive
satisfaction by a careful perusal of tiie late Mr. Jonalhai
El-vtr.l's Dissert UKin, entiiled God's las'. End in th'
Crca'ion of ihe World; or by consultin,' Siapferi, In^fi-
tfwni-s Th'o'^. Pn'rm. TJnlvers. Tom I Cap. Ill §
4«— 193. Toin. IV. Cap. XV. § 267. The latter of these
perforinances, included in five octavo vols., is in my hum-
b'e oninion a valuable work, though little known in tliis
country.

Vol. 3.— R.

communications of grace from him. John
xiv. 19. They live by faith. For thus
saith the Lord, the just, the truly righteous,
shall live; shall enjoy all their comtbrt and
perform all their obedience byfailh. Rom,
i. 17. And that we might not be at a loss
to determine what faith it is by which they
live, the apostle intbrms us, when he says,
" I live by the faith of the Son of God, who
loved me and gave himself for me." GaL
ii. 20. / live by the faiih of him whose
love to me was great, unparalleled, and ab-
solutely inexpressible in any other way than
by its amazing effects, in giving himself up,
as a surety for me, to the stroke of justice
and the death of the cross. It is from him,
as my glorious Substitute, I derive my
peace ; it is on him, as absolutely complete,
1 depend for my all.

Again : They live — not to themselves, in
the gratification of their sinful appetites —
not to the world, in conforming to its cor-
rupt customs, and seeking their happiness
in it — but to God. As they live a life of
failh on the adored Redeemer, which at"-
tbrds peace to their souls, so they live a
life of obedience to their heavenly Father,
which brings glory to his eternal name.

This obedience includes a real love to
him, and a conscientious conformity to his
commands. It include.s a real love to him.
The Christian loves God, us he is in him-
self, an infinitely amiable Being; and as he
is to him, an ianaitaly gracious and benefi-
cent Being. He v/ho does not love the
Lord, certainly cannot live to him. For we
cannot be said, with propriety, to live to
any particular person, or for any particular
end, unless our affections be set on the per-
son, anil the bent of our desire be to attain
the end. But as the sinner who is dead
to the law, as the behever who is married
to Jesus, beholds the glory of God in the
person and work of the Saviour, so he can-
not but love him with a supreme affection.
The attributes of Deity shining through that
wonderful medium, and the veil of ignor-
ance and unbelief being removed, he bows
bafore the infinite Majeyty, and reveres his
transcendent perfections, as thus di.^playe;L
In the great Immanuel they all appear, aw-
fully glorious, yet supremely amiable, Oa
the cross, as an amazing theatre, he be-
holds "mercy and truth meeting together,
righteousness and peace kissing each other."
There he beholds veracity executing her
severest threatenings with an impartial
hand, and love performing her choicest
promises with the greatest alacrity. Jus-
tice tasserting her rights, and mercy dispens-
ing her pardons. Tremendous wrath re-
vealed, and sovereign grace exalted. It is
here he learns the divine character — "the
JUST God and the Saviour."

Beholding the condescension and love of

138

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE

the suffering Surely, and his amazing trans-
actions on the cross, he at once adiniros his
person and confides in liis work. He ad-
mires his person, as altogetlier lovely ; he
confides in liis work, as tibsohUely complete.
In Jesus he beholds tlie glory of the true
God. This glory attracts his adoring re-
gards, and commands the sincerest love.
The more he sees of his God, the more he
loves him. And it is his greatest concern
tliat he does not love him w'ifh a more in-
tense and steady affection. The burden of
his soul frequently is, that he should be
guilty of such ingratitude to that sublime
and beneficent Being whose infinite excel-
lencies deserve all possible love ; whose
boundless grace and inuuense liberality to
an unworthy object, lay him under addi-
tional and eternal obligations to make a
complete and everlasting surrender of his
heartand hisall tohim. The loveof Godbe-
ing shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Spir-
it, he loves andadores his Maker, while the im-
perfections attendinghis warmest affection to
his Father and his God, become the matter of
his daily sorrow and penitential acknowledg-
ment at the throne of grace. Now he sees
the propriety of the apostolic maxim, " we
love him because he first loved us." This
divine flame being kindled in his breast, he
begins to live to his God. The language
of his heart is, " what shall I render to the
Lord for all his benefits ?"

That glorious grace which has laid so
firm a Ibundation in the death of Christ for
the peace of his conscience, and formed in
his heart the noblest principle for producing
a willing and acceptable obedience ; teach-
es and enables him to yield a conscientious
conformity to the divine commands. Being
bought with a price, he now considers him-
self as the Lord's. The powers of his mind
and the members of his body, the talents
with which he is endued and the time with
which he is indulged, all that he is and all
that he has, he freely acknowledges belong
to his God. As possessed of the powers
of reason, and surrounded with the bless-
ings of Providence, he discerns his obliga-
tions to his bountiful Creator and kind Pre-
server, in a much stronger light than be-
fore he was wont to do. His rational fac-
ulties, which he before debased to subserve
inglorious designs in the service of Satan.
he now desires to devote to his Maker.
The favors of Providence, which he once
abused to the gratification of abominable
lusts, and prostituted to the vilest purposes,
he now endeavors to improve to the honor
of their liberal Donor. Being conscious
that he is " less than the least of all the
divine mercies," that it is free favor from
which they all proceed, and that he is ac-
countable to God for the use or abuse of
them ; he is careful to husband them well,

and to perform the part of a faithful stew-
ard in the use of his temporal enjoyments,
that in so doing he may obtain the appro-
bation of his Lord. Now the poor among
the people of God, whom he once overlook-
ed and despised, have his compassionate
regards ; and, according to his ability, re-
ceive relief from his hand. This he does
for the sake, and in the name of his Divine
Saviour ; being well persuaded that he
will consider it as done to himself Matt.
XXV. 35, 36. The cause of Christ and the
interest of religion in general, he is ready
to support in proportion to his capacities.
Thoroughly persuaded that Jesus is the
dearest of names, and his the best of caus-
es, with cheerfulne.ss he lends a helping
hand, as Providence calls and duty requires.
Being ennobled with that honor which
comes from God, and an heir of eternal
riches, he is not fond of worldly distinctions,
nor covetous of transitory wealth. If he
abound in temporal blessings, he considers
himself as only intrusted with them by the
great Lord of all, for more extensive use-
tulness. If, by a reverse in the course of
Providence, he sink into poverty, he pa-
tiently bears it, knowing that he who gave
tlae abundance has a right to take it away
whenever he pleases. Believing the prom-
ise, "I will never leave thee nor forsake
thee," he knows that " all things Avork to-
gether for his good." The Almighty is be-
come a guarantee for his safety, and he
confides in him. Jehovah is his portion,
and he is satisfied Avith it. Thus he lives
to God, in the enjoyment of providential fa-
vors, and in suffering afflictions, in propor-
tion as faith and love are in exercise. But
as the Christian's faith is too often like a
" bruised reed," and his love like " the smok-
ing flax," and as he finds " a law in his mem-
bers, rebelling against the law of his mind,"
his imperfections in these, as in other in-
stances of duty, are many and great ; which
imperfections are a sufficient cause of holy
sorrow and penitential confessions before
the Lord, every day of his life.

Further: He lives to God, and enjoys
communion with him in the appointments
of his house and the ordinances of divine
worship. These holy institutions, while
alive to the lav.', and unregenerate, were
attended by him as dry duties and in a
formal way. To behold the glory of Christ,
and to feast upon his fulness, to have the
presence of God, and rejoice in the light of
his countenance, these were things he
neither expected nor could desire. But now
nothing short of this will satisfy his soul.
He leaves the house of God and the exer-
cises of the closet with a heavy heart, and
goes mourning away, if he has not beheld
his Beloved and had some degree of near-
ness to him. Psalms Ixiii. 1, 2, Lxxxiv. 1, 2.

DEATH OP LEGAL HOPE.

139

Cant. V. 6. The gospel is a joyful sound
in his ears, and a reviving cordial to his
drooping spirits. On the unadulterated
milk of the word he feeds with delight, and
his very soul is refreshed by it. 1 Peter
ii. 2.

Yet often, too often, alas ! when engaged
in divine worship, he finds that his thoughts
wander, and his pious affections are dull ;
the corruptions of his heart work, and Sa-
tan attacks him with horrid suggestions ;
all which interrupt his communion with
God, and fill his soul with grief He is
fully convinced, by repeated experience, that
the best of his duties are defiled with sin,
and utterly unworthy of divine acceptance.
Yea, such is the sense which he has of
their shameful defects, that sometimes he
is tempted to think they are more likely to
provoke the abhorrence than gain the ap-
probation of Jehovah. Yet he does not,
he cannot entirely omit them, even in those
gloomy moments. Too apt he is to forget,
in such unhappy seasons, that his services,
as well as his person, are accepted only " in
the Beloved." As our persons are abomi-
nably sinful, and our services extremely
imperfect, if those be not cleansed by aton-
ing blood, and these presented by the hand
of the great Intercessor, there can be no
acceptance for the one or the other. But
if our persons be washed in that sacred
fountain Avhich was open for sin and un-
cleanness, if our duties be presented by the
hand of our exalted High-priest, and per-
fumed with the incense of his mediation,
Rev. viii. 3, 4, then tlie acceptance of both
is certain. So that our acceptance with
God in every view, both as to persons and
services, is only in Christ, and for the sake
of his work. It is in him as our head, and
for the sake of that work which he finished
on the cross, that our sins are pardoned
and our persons accepted. It is through
him, and in virtue of his intercession, that
our most righteous performances meet with
the least approbation from a holy God
These are the ground of the believer's con-
fidence, both as to the safety of his state,
and the acceptance of his duties.

The Christian, having a feeling and an
abiding sense that such are his imperfec
tions, liequently confesses tliem at the
throne of grace, and on their account is
deeply humbled. But, though humbled in
the dust for them, he does not despair
For, being dead to the law, he looks to Je-
sus his heavenly Bridegroom ; and, having
a fresh application of atoning blood to his
conscience, he is delivered froTn slavish fear,
and strengthened for future duty. As a
guilty creature, he comes again and again
to the sacred, sanctifying stream, which
flowed from the wounds of a crucified Sav-
iour, and in this way ho maintains peace in

his mind. As insufficient to perform any
duty, to subdue any corruption, or to resist
any temptation, he earnestly seeks the aids
of the Spirit. Thus the blood of the cross
and the Spirit of Christ enable him to live
near to God, as completely justified, to the
honor of God, as partly sanctified.

Nor is the believer satisfied with paying a
due regard to the public appointments of
reUgion, and living to God in attending
upon them. His desire is, to cultivate a
correspondence with his heavenly Father,
in the family and in the closet, at all times
and in all places. Conscious that he is ever
under the eye of Omniscience, and always
in the presence of him who searches the
heart, he pays a particular regard to the
inward frame of his mind ; nor does he
observe, without real grief, the most secret
workings of inbred corruption. For he
knows that the least deviation from the ho-
ly law is a sin ; that the least sin is abhor-
red by Infinite Purity, and absolutely inex-
piable by any atonement but that which
was made by the great Messiah. His ha-
bitual desire, therefore, is to avoid sin, as
the greatest of evils, and to follow after ho-
liness, as the most desirable thing. He
does not think it sufiicient to be i'ree from
scandalous vices, or to abstain from such
things as would injure his religious charac-
ter among his fellow-professors ; his elevat-
ed aim is, so to live to God, and so to walk
with him here, as shall bear the nearest re-
semblance to the business and the bliss of
the saints in light, that the present imper-
fect state will admit. That ineftable glory,
the fruition of which he expects in the up-
per world, he desires to partake even here,
in som.e degree, by anticipation. Nor are
these desires in vain. For, as he is dead
to the law, and lives to God, as he believes
in Jesus, and walks in the ways of holiness,
he enjoys the smiles of Jehovah's counte-
nance, and tastes the sweets of celestial
joy. He possesses an infallible earnest,
and has a delightful prelibation of the ex-
pected happiness.

He remembers that his duration here is
short, and the time of his exit extremely
uncertain. This is a spur to diUgence in
the performance of duty, and an incentive
to watchfulness against the insurrections of
indwelling sin, and the incursions of out-
ward temptation. Such being his situation,
his habitual desire is, to perform the com-
mands of God with the greatest punctual-
ity and as under the divine inspection ; to
fill up every station in life with the highest
credit to his holy profession ; and to render
himself useful to all around him, by a heav-
enly conduct and a shining example, so long
as he lives. To be found ready when his
Lord shall come, to be found wakeful, with
his lamp trimmed and burning, when the

140

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

Bridegroom calls, is a matter of infinite i
importance in his esteem. ]

Once more : As it is the desire of him I
who lives to God, tlius to spend his time,
and thus to pelbrm his duty, so his princi-j
pal end in all is the glory of God. This;
course of obedience and soli-denial is notj
intended to gain the divine favor, or to ^57-0-
cuie the great iniieritance. but for the }ion-\
or of his eternal Sovereign and infinite
Benefactor. Pardon of all sin. and com-
plete reconciliation with our offended Ma-!
ker, deliverance from the wrath to come, I
and a hope of future felicity, are not pro-^
cured by our feeble endeavors, but grant-
ed, freely granted, by omnipotent grace. |
Of this, tlie man who lives to God is fully j
persuaded ; he has not, thereibre, the most
distant thought of procuring them, by any;
thing which he can do. But gratitude toj
the dying Redeemer, and love to the bless- j
ed God, being the united and powerful
principle from which he acts, the glory of
the Supreme Cause, and the honor of the
divine Mediator, constitute the exalted end.
This is the highest end of which v.-e can
conceive. The inhabitants of the heavenly
world, in all their wonderful orders, and in
all their noblest services, can aim at nothing |
superior. Yet with such views, sublime as'
they are, ought tlie believer invariably to
act, in performing every duty, in resisting
every temptation, and in bearing every
hardship, which maj* attend his progress in
a course of sincere piety. And witii such
views he will act, in proportion as his mind
is enlightened and faith is in exercise.

And now, reader, what is the tenor of
your conduct? To what, or to whom do
you live? Is it the immensely glorious
God, or is it yourself and the world ? On
what have you placed your affections? to
whom have you devoted your heart ? Re-
member who it is that makes the tender and
righteous demand, " My son give me thy
heart." His infinite excellencies require it
of. you as a wan; and if a believer^ your
obligations are unspeakably heightened.
For, as such, you are an object of redeem-
ing love, and a subject of regenerating
grace. " You are not your own ; you are
bought with a price." If, then you profess
yourself a Christian, consider the purport
of that profession. By laying claim to the
honorable character, 3'ou profess to ''live to
God." The character, how glorious ! the
profession, how noble ! Disgrace not that
holy name by which you are called. Dishon-
or not that life you profess to lead ; lest you
pierce yourself through witii many sorrows,
and cause the enemies of the cross to tri-
umph.

Awful it is to think how many there are
that bear the Christian character and pro-
fes,s to believe the gospel, who are yet far

from living to God. Tile world has their
hearts, it engrosses iheir warmest affections.
The language of their conduct is, " who will
show us any temporal good ?" or " where
shall we find any 00/720/ pleasure?" Such
would do well to remember, that to " mmd
earthly things," to be " lovers of pleasure,
more than lovers of God," are the charac-
ters of the proline, in the sacred writings.
Philip, iii. 19. 2Tim.iii. 4. Such, whoever
they may be, are the children of wrath ;
and, in the most emphatical sense, the ene-
mies of the cross of Christ. Jam. iv. 4.
Philip, iii. 18. The state of such is ex-
tremely dangerous ; and, if grace prevent
not, eternal destruction will be their por-
tion. Reader! is this your casfe? It so,
you ought either to reform your conduct,
or renounce every pretence to Christianity.
You cannot obey God and mammon. You
cannot serve Christ and the world. They
are opposite masters, and have opposite in-
teresis. If you profess to be dead to the
law as a covenant, you must live to God",
or you contradict yourself and blaspheme
the gospel. Do not imagine that your
state is safe, because you have adopted an
orthodox .system of sentiments, and have a
consistent view of the capital doctrines of
divine revelation. Such sentiments you
may embrace, such a consistent view of
divine truths you may have, and yet re-
main a hardened rebel against your Maker,
and be a scandal to the great Redeemer's
cause. You may be wise in theory, and
right in your doctrinal principles, while the
tenor of your conduct is fatally wrong, and
your soul in the utmost jeopardy. For it
is a certain truth, that our religious knowl-
edge will be of no further use to ourselves,
than it elevates our affections to heavenly
things, meliorates our tempers, and recti-
fies our conduct. You may attend on a
preached gospel, be a member of the pu-
rest visible church, and have a seat at the
Lord's table, yet, after all, die unregene-
rate and be eternally lost. Think then, O
carnal professor! what a shocking figure
you will make among the millions of the
damned, if at last you should perish. The
case of impenitent Jews, or idolatrous hea-
thens, who go to that place of torment, will
not be so awful as yours. To think of one
who had often heard the gospel, who pro-
fessed to believe its sublime and glorious
doctrines, and had frequently received the
memorials of the body and the blood of
Christ, to think of such an one not living to
God, but in allowed iniquity, and dying in
unbelief, is awful indeed ! For the glorious
gospel he so often heard, will be to him " the
savor of death iinto death ;" and that su-
perior knowledge of wliich he boasted,
will give a dreadful emphasis to his torment,
and aggravate his eternal ruin. It is great-

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE,

141

ly to be feared that in the end many such
will be found ; and take heed, reader ! that
you be not one of them.

Again : Do you profess not only to be
dead to the law, and to believe the gospel,
but also to live to God ? If so, what is the
principle of your obedience, and what is
the end for which you perform it ? Is self-
love the principle, and sell-preservatioa the
end ? or the love of God, and the glory of
his eternal name ? If the former, you are
yet alive to the law; if the latter, it is the
obedience which God accepts. Love to
him whose perfections are infinite, love to
him whose grace is unbounded, is the frait-

to contain an important truth. And, in
proof of it, the ibllowing things are offered
to consideration.

Let us once more advert to those em-
phatical words which have furnished mat-
ter for the preceding sections ; for in them
the truth we would now confirm and illus-
trate, is very plainly and strongly implied.
Thus they read : " For I through the law
am dead to the law, that I might live unto
God." When an unerring writer asserts,
" I am dead to the law, that I might live
unto God," does he not signify, beyond all
reasonable doubt, that while he was alive
to the law he could not live to God ? If

ful and delightful source of every work that the phrase here used have any sense, or be

is truly good. But as we love the Lord
only in proportion as we know him, let it
be your constant concern to increase in your
acquaintance with him. To that end, study
the cross of Christ; for there the glories
of the Godhead shine ; there they are dis-
played in the clearest manner, and appear
with a winning aspect. These glories be
held in the face of Jesus Christ, will have a
transforming influence. You will love God,
you will desire to be like him. This will
make duty easy, and the ways of holiness
delightfal. You will hate sin, not only as
condemning, but also as Jiltliy and abomi-
nable. Then out of gratitude to the bleed-
ing Jesus, and for the glory of the Lord Je-
hovah, you will desire to obey every divine
precept. Then you will not only talk about
living to God, as being a duty, but you will
exemplify it in your own conduct. You
will make it appear that you love him, and
that it is your main business to glorify
him. And, except you evidence this in
some degree, all your pretensions to vital
religion and primitive Christianity will be
in vain.

SECTION VL

We must he dead to the law as a covenant,
before we can live to God in holy and
acceptable obedience.

Having already observed that the great
end designed by our being dead to the law,
is "that we might live unto God," we now
proceed to show, that it is impossible for
such as are alive to the law as a covenant,
to live unto God in holy and acceptiible
obedience. Or, in other words, that while
a man is looking to his own righteousness
as the condition of his justification, he can
perform no works that are truly good, nor
any obedience that is acceptable to God.
This position may appear strange, and per-
haps be rejected by many, as absolutely
false. I am, notwithstanding, fully persuad-
ed that it will be found on impartial inquiry,

used with any propriety, it must suggest
that idea. If he might have lived to God
while he sought righteousness and life by
the law, and before he was dead to it, what
tolerable reason can be given for his thus
speaking? And that the apostle had as
good opportunities, and as great a zeal so
to have done, as any other man, if such a
thing had been practicable, will not be dis-
puted. This, therefore, I humbly conceive,
is no contemptible proof of the point.

The same inspired author, in anoth-
er part of his invaluable writings, says,
'• Wherefore, my brethren, ye also are be-
come dead to the law, that ye should be
married to another, even to him who is rais-
ed from the dead, that we should bring
FORTH FRUIT UNTO GoD." Rom. vii. 4.
Here we are taught that we must be dead
to the law, before we can be married to
Christ ; and that we must be married to
him before we can bring forth fruit unto
God. The glorious end designed, and the
happy effect produced by the believer's con-
jugal relation to Jesus, are included in his
" bringing forth fruit unto God." That re-
lation, therefore, must be prior to this ef-
fect. And it is quite evident Irom the pas-
sage, that our being dead to the law, is
previous to the commencement of that high
and honorable relation.* And as children
are called the " iruit of the womb," Psalm
cxxvii. 3, so the apostle intimates that those
works which are acceptable to God, and
which follow upon this relation taking place
between Christ and the sinner, may be
compared to a legitimate offspring. Con-
seqently the best works performed by us,
before we are dead to the law and married
to Jesus, can be accounted no other than
spm-ious, and therefore rejected of God.

In the same instructive paragraph it is
said, "Now Ave are delivered from the law,
that being dead wherein we were held,
THAT WE SHOULD SERVE iu newuess of Spirit
and not in the oldness of the letter." Rom.

It is of the believer's open espousals to Christ, that
the apostle here treats.

142

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

vii. 6. From the plain import of these
words it appears, that the hxw must be
dead to us, before we can be delivered
from it. And that we must be deHvered
I'rom it before we can serve God in newiicss
of .tpirit ; acting from a new principle, and
with new views, having a new and a right
spirit formed in us. But this is not the case
of any who are alive to the law. They
who are dclirered from the law, they to
whom the law is dead, and tliey only, are
the liappy persons.

That no man who is alive to the law can
live to God, will further appear, if it be con
sidered that the state in which he lies is
that of a condemned criminal. For while
alive to the law, he is under it as a cove-
nant ; and as a breaker of it, is obnoxious
to its condemning power. Being " of the
works of the law," seeking justification by
his own obedience in conlbrmity to it, he is
"under the curse." Gal. iii. JO. His per
son is accursed, and his state is damnable,
according to the tenor of that law to which
he looks for life. This is plain from the
scripture. If, then, his person be accursed
his works cannot be accepted. If his state.
in the eye of the law. be that of a con-
demned rebel, his conduct cannot be sup-
Eosed well pleasing in the eye of the great
lawgiver. His state must be good and his
person accepted, before he can live to God,
or glorify him in holy obedience.

Further : No man can live to God, no man
can perform acceptable obedience while
alive to the law, because he has not rital
union with Christ. While alive to the law,
we are in unbelief. While in unbelief, we
are in our natural state. And while in our
natural state, we are enemies to God and
children of wrath : Rom. viii. 7. Col. i.
21. Eph. ii. 3. John iii. 36, consequently
have no tntalumon with Christ.* And that
none who are destitute of union wih him
can do any good works, is clear from his
own words : Without me — without a union
with, me, similar to that of the branch to
the vine, ye can do nothinc: John xv. 5.
Ye can neither resist temptation successful-
ly, nor perlbrm duty acceptably : ye can
bear no fruit to the glory of God. Here
our Lord informs us that the human heart
is never influenced by holy tempers ; that
the human life cannot be productive of good
works till a man be united to Christ, any
more than a branch can bear valuable fruit
while in a state of separation from the
vine. And that so long as persons contin-
ue in a state of alienation from Jesus Christ.

' That the chosen of God have union with ('hrist. |ii i-
or to their receneralion, is readily pranlpd, 15ut then I
liiiinhly conceive, wliattvrr otlier epithels we imy nivr
that union, it cannot with propriety be cailfd vil'al. till
life be comninnicaleil to the dead sinner, which is done
in regeneration. Then it Is, and not till llien. that we
become living branches in tlie inie vine. Vid. Vv'it?.
Anima-i. Iren. cap. vl. i 1,2,3.

they, with all their performances, are like a
broken, withered branch ; fit for nothing btit
to be cast into the fire and consumed from
the earth. Before we have a living imion
with the great Head of the church, we are
not favored with the aids of divine grace,
nor are we partakers of the Holy Spirit.
And as it is the province of that sacred
Agent to enlighten the dark understanding,
and lead into all truth, so it is only by hia
assistance we can perform that which is
good, or have the least inclination so to do ;
according to that saying, "For it is God
which worketh in you, both to will and to
do, of his good pleasure." Philip, ii. 13.

Again : " Without faith it is impossible to
please God." Heb. xi. 6. The faith de-
signed, is " the substance of things hoped
lor, and the evidence of things not seen."
It is that by which the just live, and to which
a divine righteousness is revealed in the
gospel. Heb. x. 38. Rom. i. 17. It has
the Son of God for its object, and salvation
for its end. Gal. ii. 20. 1 Pet. i. 9. But
all who are alive to the law, are destitute
of it. This appears from hence : " They
who believe on Jesus, believe on him as the
justifier of the ungodly." Rom. iv. 5.
They who are alive to the law, have no
such dependance. It is directly contrary
to their views and their inclinations. They
are seeking to establish their own righteous-
ness, and look for acceptance with God in
that way. They overlook that provision
which grace has made for the entirely un-
worthy, and slight that righteousness which
the Mediator performed for the justification
of the ungodly. Being destitute, therefore,
of that f;\ith which purifies the heart and
works by love; being unbelievers, "whose
mind and conscience are defiled," and to
whom "nothing is pure," Titus i. 15, no-
thing they have, nothing they do, is accept-
able to God. Consequently they cannot
live to him or glorify his name.

Once more : The /ore of God being the
principle, and the s^Iorij of God the end of
all acceptable obedience, the man who does
not act from that delightful principle, and
with a view to this exalted end, cannot be
said to live unto God. " Thou shalt love
the Lord thy God. Whatever ye do, do
all to the glory of God." But whoever is
alive to the law, acts from a different prin-
ciple, and aims at a different end. Such a
person may act from self-love, or Pharisai-
cal pride, but he cannot act from love to his
Maker, and Avith a view to his glory. As
ignorant of God, he cannot love him. As
in. hie natural state, his carnal mind is en-
mity against him. Cleaving to the law
for life, and depending on his own right-
eousness, he rebels against the gospel, and
slights the great Redeemer. Does he ab-
stain from an outward course of sin ? It is

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

143

not because he loves holiness, or from a
sense of the contrariety there is in sin to
the perfections of the Deity, that he for-
bears to gratify his vicious appetites to the
full extent of his power ; but because he
is apprehensive that disagreeable conse-
quences would loUow upon such a conduct.
Does he attend religious ordinances 1 It is
not from love to their great Institutor, or
because he deHghts in them as means of
communion with God, but because he loves
himself, and hopes, by observing the divine
commands, to obtain favor at the great tri-
bunal. Would his conscience be easy, and
his hope of heaven continue, without these
devotional services, he would drop them
without hesitation, and leave their perform-
ance to others. A slavish fear of hell, and
a mercenary expectation of heaven, self-
love, and self-preservation, are the main
springs of his moral and religious conduct,
and the end which he has in view. In cer-
tain situations of life, a regard to the de-
cency and present usefulness of a moral
conversation, and an esteem for a religious
character, may bridle the baser passions,
and strongly urge to a religious profession;
but whether we avoid sin and practise duty,
with a view to obtain the favor of heaven,
and escape everlasting misery, or with a
design to gain the advantages attending a
moral behaviour, and the reputation of ap-
pearing religious, it is very certain that we
are far from living to God, while a sincere
affection for him, and a supreme concern
for his glory, have not a prevailing influence
on our hearts and lives. We may there-
fore safely conclude that it is absolutely
necessary a man should be " dead to the
law," should give up all expectations of jus-
tification by his own obedience, before he
can " live to God" in the performance of
holy duties, and the practice of real virtue.
Hence we may learn what numbers there
are who, with a blind zeal and seli-right-
eous views, strongly assert the necessity of
human obedience, in order to acceptance
with God. who are not able to perform any
good works. They, indeed, fondly imagine
themselves to be the greatest friends to the
interests of holiness, because they are strong-
ly attached to the law as a covenant. And
as they loudly plead the necessity of living
to God, so they greatly please themselves
with a fancied obedience to his divine pre-
cepts ; while the doctrine of sovereign
grace, the declarations of a free Saviour
and a finished salvation, without their do-
ings or deservings, are held in detestation
by them. And why ? Because they sup-
pose that such doctrines received, must
make void the obligations of the law in
every sense, and sap (he foundations of all
morality. Thus they giatify their native
pride, under the fair pretext of a superior

regard to the law, and a flaming zeal for
holiness. But if the arguments already
adduced be founded in truth, the vanity of
such a pretence is evident. For hence it
appears that the doctrine of grace is so far
from being licentious, that without an ex-
perimental acquaintance with it, we cannot
live to God, nor perform any work that is
truly good. Till possessed of such an ac-
quaintance with it, we have no faith in Je-
sus, no love to our Maker, no desire to live
to his glory. It is the gospel, in the hand
of the Spirit, by which faith is implanted
and love produced in the heart. These
plants of heavenly origin grow and flour-
ish, and bring forth fruit, under its benign
influence. It is the honored instrument in
Jehovah's hand for enlightening the ignor-
ant and reforming the profligate. An ex-
perience of its power makes the ways of
holiness pleasant, and the practice of duty
delightful. Yes, reader, the more you know
of the glorious gospel, the more will you
love its heavenly Author. So shall you
find, by increasing and happy experience,
that as nothing in the world can be compar-
ed with it, for affording relief to a distress-
ed conscience^ so there is nothing equal to
it for establishing duty on a solid basis^ en-
forcing it by cogent motives, and directing
it to a worthy end.

How haypy then is your state, believer !
Your person being accepted of God, your
works are pleasing to him. And a remem-
brance that " your labor shall not be in vain
in the Lord," is a noble encouragement to
abound and continue in well doing. Your
works of faith and labors of love, being
iruits of a vital union with Jesus Christ,
and indications of an obedient, gratetul
heart, are highly pleasing to your heavenly
Fatlier. Surely, then, it should be your
fervent desire and constant care, as a living
branch of the true vine, to bear the most
generous fruit in rich abundance. O, be-
liever ! it is your happiness to have every
sin pardoned, and every curse removed 1
to believe in the Son of God, and to enjoy
communion with him. Yours it is, to love
the Lord and seek his glory; to perform
duty by divine assistance, and to have your
sacred services and spiritual sacrifices pre-
sented to God, and rendered acceptable to
him by Jesus, your great High Priest.
Yours is the high prerogative of " living to
God." Prize the privilege ; walk worthy
of j^our exalted station and heavenly call-
ing.

As there are, comparatively, very few
that are capable of living to God, if you,
reader, profess to be one of those few, your
obligations to obedience are many, and un-
speakably great. And you Avill do well to
remember, Ihat to talk of being possessed
of superior advantages for the practice of

144

DEATH OF^ LEGAL HOPE;

virtue, and at the same time live as do the
world in common, are a great inconsisten-
cy. To pretend that you believe in the
Lord Redeemer, are in a justfied state, and
have delightful communion \vith the best
of Beings — that you have a clear knowl-
edge of divine truth, and a high esteem lor
the ordinances of Christ, in iheir primitive
purity — to pretend to these very superior
advantages, while the only discernable dif-
ference between you and the world, con-
sists in your entertaining a different set of
sentiments, or having different forms of ex-
ternal worship, is inconsistent and shame-
ful. If this be the case, your speculative
knowledge of evangelical truth is sadly
abused. It is converted into fuel for your
spiritual pride ; while your conduct is a
standing reproach to the name that you
bear, and a foul disgrace to the truths which
you hold. For in proportion as our light is
clearer, and our advantages greater, our
example should be brighter, and our lives
more useful.

SECTION vn.

Of the law as a rule of conduct to believers.

We have already observed that the mor-
al law may be considered either as the for-
mula of the covenant of works, or as a rule
of conduct Under the former considera-
tion we have shown that believers are dead
to it, and delivered from it ; that it has no
demands upon them, nor any dominion over
them. It now remains that we consider it
under its latter denomination. And here
we shall endeavor to prove, that as a rule
of conduct, it deserves and requires the sin-
cere and uninterrupted regards of all who
believe.

That the law may be considered as the
rule of our obedience in general, even when
it ceases to have any claims upon us, or
any threatenings against us, as a covenant,
is a truth of great importance, and easy to
be apprehended. Some persons, indeed,
either cannot or will not see the moral law
in any other light tlian that of a covenant;
and imagine that if we lose the idea of the
reward it promises to perlect obedience,
and of the curse it denounces against trans-
gression, we lose the idea of the law itself
Consequently they must maintain that when
a person is delivered from it as a covenant,
he is no longer concerned with it, under any
consideration. But this is a great mistake,
and pregnant w-ith dangerous consequen-
ces.

In order to set this matter in a clearer
light, it may be of use to observe, that the idea
of the law as o n//eisprior,in the order of na-
ture, to our conceptions of the law as a cove-

nant. For man being formed a reasonable
creature, and a subject of moral government;
being designed to propagate "his species,
and fitted for social life — it was necessary
that he shoidd have a rule for his conduct,
and havx3 the bounds of his duty prescribed ;
that he should have such a rule as included
both his duty to God and his duty to his
fellow creatures. When we consider man-
kind as a race of rational beings, their com-
mon relation to the great Creator, and
their unavoidable conneclion one with anoth-
er, seem necessarily to require it. Such a
rule we have in the moral law. And the
nature of things required that some such
rule for the substance of it, should have
been given to our first parents in paradise ;
even supposing the eternal Sovereign had
not been pleased to connect a promise of
hfe with a conformity to it. As creatures
in a state of probation, and as accountable
to God lor the use of all their time and the
exercise of all their powers, it could not be
otherwise. To deny ihis, is to suppose that
Jehovah might have created a number of
rational beings in strict connection one w-iih
another, and all in a state of continual de-
pendence upon himself, and at the same time
that it would have been consistent with all
his perfections to have had no regard, to
their conduct, whatever ii might be, either
towards himself or one to another, which,
in reference to moral good and evil, would
have excluded Providence from the world.
But though it was necessary that our
great progenitor, while in a state of inno-
cence, should have a prescription of duty, or
a rule for his conduct, there u-a.s not, there
coidd not be, any necessity arising from
that relation in which he stood to God, that
this rule of his behaviour sliould have the
form of a covenant. Yet this was actually
tlie case. His bountiful Creator not only
informed him of his duty, and ihreatened
punishment against disobedience, but, in llie
threatening itself, it was strongly implied
that his persevering obedience should be
rewarded with life, and a happy immortali-
ty. The language of that law which he
was under is, " The man who doeth lliese
things," who performs a perfect righteous-
ness, " shall live in them." So our Lord,
referring to the same law, says, " This do,
and thou shalt live." This promise made
to obedience, gives the law the nature and
form o(?iCovenanl. This constitution, there-
fore, was an act of divine condescension
and divine sovereignty. Infinite justice
made it necessary that an oflence against
the Majesty of heaven should be punished;
but the most perfect obedience of a crea-
ture, absolutely and perpetually dependent
upon the Creator, gives no claim to the
least reward. Had our great progenitor
Adam, done all tliat was commanded, he

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE,

145

must at last, Jesus himself being judge,
have been but an "unprofitable servant."
Not the least pittance of merit could have
arisen from it. Perfect obedience is a debt
which every one owes to his Maker ; con
eequentjy, had our first parent continued in
his primitive state, he would have had no de
mand on the eternal Sovereign; it being ab-
surd to imagine that any one should be oblig-
ed to reward his debtor, merely for discharg-
ing a just debt* There is, therefore a con-
ceivable, a real, an important difference be-
t\veen tlie law as a covenant, and the same
law as a rule. And as in the order of na-
ture, and in the necessary connections and
dependencies of things, the idea of it as a
rule, is prior to that of a covenant ; so there
is not the least absurdity in supposing that
it may entirely cease to the believer, in re-
gard to the perfect, personal obedience it
requires as the condition of life, and the
curse it annexes to every sin, while it con-
tinues in full force^ as the rule of his ac-
tions.f

That the moral law is a rule of life to be-
lievers, may be proved by various argu-
ments. Some few of the many which
might be produced, I shall now offer to the
reader's consideration. Paul, we find, even
in that very chapter where he treats the
most largely and explicitly concerning be-
lievers being dead to the law, and the law
being dead to them, asserts with respect to
himself, " I delight in the law of God, after
the inward man." Rom. vii. 22. Now,
whatever law that is which he here designs,
he informs us that he delighted in it " alter
the inward man." By which expressions
he does not intend the soul, in contradis
tinction from the body, but the mind, con
eidered as renewed, in opposition to the cor-
ruption of nature, still inherent. This law,
therefore, cannot be that which is ceremoni-
al, for that was abrogated by the death of
Christ. Nor can it be the law of sin, for
that was his greatest burden, as appears
from the context. Nor can it be the law
of his mind, or that new and holy disposi-
eition which was implanted in his heart in
regeneration ; for then the sense would be,
" I delight in the new disposition of my

• Mr. Jonathan Edwards on Original Sin, p. 412.

* Tlie ten commandments," says a well known author,
"being the substance of the law of nature, a representa-
tion of God's image, and a beam of his holiness, behov
ed forever, unalterably to be a rule of life to mankind,
in all possible stares, conditions, and circumstances.
Nothing but the utter destruction of human nature, could
divest them of that office, since God is unchangeable in
his invure and holiness. Hence their being a rule oflii'e
to .\dam and his po.^terity, had no dependance on their
becoming the covenant of works; but they would have
b«en that rule, though there never had been any such
oovenant. Yea, whatever covenant was introduced,
whether of works or of grace, or whatever, form might
be put uponthera, they behoved still to remain the rule
of life; no covenant, no form whatsoever, could ever
prejudice this theirpoyal dignity." Boston's Works, p.
6oi- Note (g.)

Vol. 3.— S.

mind, after my renewed mind." Nor can
it be the moral law as a covetiant, for to
that he declares he was dead. It remains
then that it must be the moral law, as the
rule of his obedience to God. In the law
thus considered, he greatly delighted. He
saw it was " holy, and just, and good."
That fervent love which he had to his God,
that sincere affection which he had to his
neighbor, caused him to esteem it highly,
and to observe it with diligence. And
whoever is possessed of the holy and heav-
enly principle, cannot but love that law
which requires the constant exercise of it
Rom. vii. 25. " So then, with the mind, I
myself serve the law of God."

In another part of the same epistle, he
evidently exhorts his believing correspond-
ents to the practice of duty, by setting be-
fore them the precepts and prohibition of the
moral law. These are his words : " Owe
no man any thing, but to love one another ;
for he that loveth another hath fulfilled the
law. For this. Thou shalt not commit
adultery: Thou shalt not kill: Thou shalt
not steal : Thou shalt not bear false wit-
ness: Thou shalt not covet: And if there
be any other commandment, it is briefly
comprehended in this saying, namely, Thou
shalt love thy neighbor as thyself Love
worketh no ill to his neighbor; therefore
love is the fulfilling of the law." Rom. xiii.
8, 9, 10. Now to what purpose does the
infallible teacher make use of these pre-
cepts and prohibitions, and that in the very
language of the decalogue, when exhort-
ing believers to good works, if they have
nothing to do with the law ? Where is the
propriety, where is the reason of his doing
so, on supposition that it is not the rule of
their conduct? For no one acquainted
witli the gospel can imagine that he is here
urging the law upon them as a covenant
of works, which prescribes duty as the con-
dition of life; and yet there is no other
light in which to consider it, if it is denied
to be a rule of conduct. I conclude, there-
fore, that the inspired author has here taught
us, in a very emphatical manner, that the
law is a rule of life to believers.

The same experienced saint and incom-
parable man, when writing to the church
at Ephesus, says, " Children obey your pa-
rents in the Lord, for this is right." This
exhortation he enforces, by adding, " Hon-
or thy father and mother ;" which are the
words of the law, and " the first command-
ment with promise." Eph. vi. 1, 2. Now

it not strange, exceeding strange, that
the apostle should thus refer to the law and
expressly mention its precepts, when ex-
horting the people of God to perform their
respective duties ; and that he should do it
not only once, but repeatedly, and to differ-
ent churches, See aleo Gal. v. 13, li, if he

146

CEATH OF LEGAL liOPfi,

did not consider it as the rule of their con-
duct ? If the moral huv had been entirely
abrogated, if believers had been freed from
all concern with it, he must have known
it. And if he knew it, methinks it is abso-
lutely unaccountable that he should in this
manner make use of it, and urge its sacred
injunctions, when writing to a church of
Christ called out from among the Gentiles.
What ! was the Lord's ambassador so
much at a loss for motives and arguments to
enlbrce his divine Master's commands, even
on the minds of those who were in professed
subjection to him, that he must, in order to
gain his point, make use of an antiquated
law — a law with which they had no con
cem! That was far from him: the thought
be far from us ! That first-rate minister
in ihe Messiah's kingdom was well persuad-
ed that the holy law was a rule for the con-
duct of Christians. The glorious Surety
having paid it the highest respect, in per-
forming that perfect obedience which it re-
quired, and in suffering the dreadful penal-
ty it threatened as a covenant; he knew
that it deserved the most sincere and unin-
terrupted regard, from all who professed to
believe in Jesus, in their whole conversa-
tion. Without supposing this, we cannot
discern either propriety or sense in thus
making use of it when addressing believ-
ers.

We have a testimony to the truth for
which we plead, from the pen of another
apostle, which, as it appears pertinent to
our purpose, may be briefly considered.
James, in perfect agreement with Paul,
says, " If ye I'ulfil the royal law, according
to the scripture. Thou shalt love thy neigh-
bor as thyself, ye do well." James ii. 8.
That it is the moral law of which he speaks,
cannot admit of a doubt, for he expressly
mentions one of its principle commands.
Now says he, if ye, believers, fuljil the roy-
al law of love one to another, without any
difference of rich and poor, of high and
low, according to the scripture, in which it
is written, thou shalt love thy neighbor as
thyself, ye do well. Ye act agreeably to the
will of your heavenly Father, and the com-
mandment of your divine Lord, who is Kiiig
in Zion. Acts of Christian kindness and
brotherly love to your fellow- creatures and
fellow-Christians, proceeding from love to
God, and with a view to his glory, are good
works ; such as the Lord himself will ac-
knowledge to be well done. Here we may
further observe, that in loving our neighbor
and in evidencing that love by a suitable
series of action, we ought to have our eye
upon that authority which enjoins it, and'
that law which requires it. it is the au-
thority of God in his law which we ought
to regard. I now proceed to confirm the
truth by other considerations.

If the moral law be not a rule of life to
believers, either there is some other and a
new rule given in its stead, or there is not.
If another, it may be presumed that it is
either more or less perfect than that con-
tained in the moral law. But more perfect
it cannot be, without supposing that the
old, the eternal law, was imperfect ; to sup-
pose which is absurdly blasphemous. If it
be less perfect, the consequence is plain.
It is not a complete system of duty. It ad-
mits of imperfections. It connives at sin.
But for any one to imagine that infinite
wisdom would contrive, and that infinite
holiness would give s^ich a rule for the con-
duct of rational creatures, is absolutely in-
consistent with the divine character, and
pregnant with blasphemy. Such a rule,
therefore condemns itself, and sinks with its
own weight. But if there be 720^ another,
then it follows by necessary consequence,
that as there is no rule to regulate the con-
duct of believers, they can neither obey
nor disobey. Sin and duty, as to them,
are unmeaning names and empty sounds.
For obedience pre-supposes a command.
And it is equally evident that " where there
is no law," no rule of action, there can be
" no transgression." For how should that
be sin which is not forbidden, which is not
the breach of any law ? But if all irregu-
larities of temper and conduct be forbidden
to believers, and if dispositions and practi-
ces of a contrary kind be required of them,
it must be by a law ; a law they are bound
to regard, as the rule of duty both to God
and man. The sentiment opposed, repre-
sents the Holy One of God as the minister
of sin ; for it supposes that Christ has dis-
solved all obligation to duty, in reference
to his disciples ; than which nothing can
be more false, or more derogatory to our
Saviour's honor. The satisfaction he made
to eternal justice, saves the persons of be-
lievers from final condemnation and ever-
lasting punishment ; but the nature of their
actions remains the same. Every affection
of heart, and every action of life, which
the law forbids and condemns in others, is
equally forbidden and equally criminal in
them ; nay, they being considered as know-
ing their duty better, as under additional
obligations, and as having superior motives
to the performance of it, if there be any
difference, on the comparison, in regard to
any impurity of heart or irregularity of hfe,
it lies against them. Though redeemed
from the curse of the law, they are under
oblio;ation to observe its precepts ; nor
would it be either to tlieir honor or happiness
to be otherwise.

I sup])ose it will not be denied by any
who acKnowledge the Bible to contain a
divine revelation, that the saints and people
of God, under the ancient Jewish economy,

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

147

were bound to regard the moral law as the
rule of their conduct. Yet, it is evident they
were no more under it as a covenant, nor
any more obnoxious to its curse, than real
Christians under the gospel dispensation.
They who believed in the promised Messi-
ah before he appeared, were pardoned and
justified, were sanctified and saved ; and
that by the same glorious grace, and the
same all-sufficient Mediator, with all who
have known the Lord since the eternal
Word become incarnate ; the way of justi-
fication and salvation having been but one,
and precisely the same in all ages. If then,
those ancient saints were bound to regard
the law as the rule of their moral behav-
ior, what reason can be given why believ-
ers now should not be under the same obli-
gation? Especially since our Lord has de-
clared in the most solemn manner, that he
" came not to destroy, but to fulfil the law."
To fulfil it as a covenant, by his own con-
summate obedience, and by his most bitter
sufferings in the stead of his people ; and
to enforce on their minds, by the most co-
gent motives, its heavenly precepts, as a
perfect rule of duty. So that whether we
consider the law as a rule of duty, or as a
covenant of works, it is not made void by
the coming of Christ, or the doctrine of
grace, but on the contrary it is firmly es-
tablished and highly magnified. Rom. iii.
31. Isa. xlii. 21.

If believers be not under the commanding
power of the law, supposing them to act
ever so contrary to it, they are not chargea-
ble with sinning against it, nor can tliey be
denominated transgressors of it. For in-
stance : the law says, " Thou shalt love
God with all thy heart ;" that is, with a su-

f)reme and perfect affection. " Thou shalt
ove thy neighbor as thyself" These are
its capital commands ; these are the sum of
the law. But if the law be not a rule of
life to the Christian, if he be not under its
commanding power, he is no longer obliged
to love either God or his neighbor. Con-
sequently, on supposition that he love nei-
ther of them, he is not guilty in the eye of
the law, nor in the least a breaker of it.
For where there is no legal right to com-
mand, there can be no authority to pro-
nounce guilty. If, therefore, the believer
be not under the commanding power of
the law, whatever the dispositions of his
heart, or the actions of his life may be, he
is no transgressor of the law, it having no
concern at all with him. Such are the
shocking absurdities, and such the abomi-
nable blasphemy, which follow a denial of
the truth for which we contend.

We may argue also from the experience
of the Christian, and the dictates of his
own conscience. When he reflects on the
corruptions of his heart, the imperfections

of his duties, and the exceeding sinfulness
of sin, what is the standard by which he
forms an estimate of these things ? Some
rule of duty he must have ; some rule he
must in his own conscience acknowledge,
or he could not judge of the dispositions of
his heart and the actions of his life, so as
to pronounce them either good or evil, per-
fect or defective, and be pained or pleased
on the reflection. And what rule can this
be, but the moral law ? Is it not a com-
plete one, and fit tor the purpose ? Is there
any sin which is not forbidden, is there any
duty which is not commanded, by that law
which requires the constant exercise of per-
fect love to God, and perfect love to man 1
Can the believer acquit himseltj in the
court of his own conscience, when he is
persuaded that his tempers or actions are
contrary to it ? Or does he ever condemn
them as criminal, but on a supposition that
there is something in them wliich is forbid-
den by it? Was it ever known that a
Christian should say, of his inclinations or
actions, "I pronounce these to be evil,
though required by the moral law, and I de-
clare those to be good, though contrary to
it?" An mfallible pen has informed us,
that " by the law is the knowledge of sin."
Nor is its usefulness in this respect confined
to the time when a sinner is first awakened
and converted. It is of use, in the hand of
the Spirit, in all the future progress of the
Christian life. As the believer grows in
grace, he sees more and more of its purity
and spirituality, and is proportionally hum-
bled under a sense of his own depravity
and imperfections. If, then, it be of use to
a believer still to convince him of sin, and
still to humble him for it, and if sin be no
other than a " transgression of the law," it
follows that it must be the rule of his con-
duct.

The law considered as moral, is founded
on the nature of things. The sublime per-
fections of Jehovah, and the relation he
stands in to man, as being his Creator,
Preserver, and Governor, the dependent
condition of man, and the blessings he re-
ceives from his Maker, constitute that foun-
dation on which the law is built, as it res-
pects our duty to God, in the exercise of
perfect love, and the peformance of holy
worship. And as the law regards our
neighbor, it is founded on that mutual rela-
tion which we stand in one to another, in
the present state of existence. In propor-
tion, therefore, to the stability of that foun-
dation on which the law is built, is the law
itself If those relations from which all
our obligations to God and one to another
arise, be firm and unchangeable, such also
must be the obligations themselves ; for the
several relations and obligations co-exist.
This being the case, it follows by necessa-

14g

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE.

ry consequence, that while Jehovah is pos-
sessed of absoUUe perfection, and a man a
dependent being while God is God, and
man is man, tliat h^w which requires per-
fect love to our Maker is unchangeable.
And so long as our relation one to another
continues the same, it cannot but be the
duly of every one to lore his neighbor as
he loves himself. Consequently, so far as
we come short in either of tiiese respects,
we fail in the performance of our duty, and
are chargeable with sin.

Once more : Why should any one wish
to be free from the law, considered as a rule
of conduct? It commands nothing but
what is right, nor forbids any thing that is
not wrong. As the things it requires are
"Worthy of God and useful to man, so the
things it prohibits are hateful to him and
hurtful to us. To suppose it possible for
God to approve those tilings which the law
condemns, would be a flagrant dishonor
done to his character ; and to imagine that
men might perform them without injuring
their own souls, is a great mistake. Be
sides, is it not the design of the Holy Spir-
it, in the regeneration of sinners, to produce
in them an habitual desire of doing that
which is right 1 But can those dispositions
or actions be accounted right, which are
contrary to the attributes of God, or incon-
Bistent with a due acknowledgment of
them?* When the divine Sovereign dis-
plays his perfections, he manifests his glo-
ry ; and so far as we acknowledge those
perfections in a suitable manner, we glorify
him. Now as the law only requires us to
treat God as God, and our fellow-creature
as our fellow-creature — in other words, as
it only requires us to treat objects and
things as they are in their own nature, and
in their several relations to us — its precepts
and prohibitions must be unalterable, and
the never failing rule of the Christian's con-
duct!

* Stapferi Institut. Theolog. Polein. Tom. 1, Cap. iii.
1435. 1436.

■t The very learned and celebrated Vitringa, when rea-
soning on this important subject, speaks to the following
effect: ''When Paul affirms that believers, being under
grace, are ' free from tlie law,' he must not be under-
stood as asserting, that they are loosed from an obliga-
tion to observe the precepts which constitute the sub-
stance of tliose moral laws which are contained in the
■writings of Moses. For how absurd, how blasphemous,
how shocking it would be to suppose that the people of
God, under the gospel dispensation, are noi bound by
any law to revere and love and adore their Maker; nor
under any obligation to seek the good, or promote the
happiness of their fellow creatures ! Oerlain it is, that
grace and faith neither do nor were ever intended to
free brlievers from the obligations and laws of humani-
ty. No : their benevolent design was, to restore man-
kind to happiness, and to perfect them in holiness. But
were Christiana released from the law of love, thoy
would not be in the common condition of humanity.
For what is it to be a man, but to be a creature endued
with reason, dcpencient on God for existence, and for all

It must indeed be acknowledged, that a
complete conformity to this liigh and heav-
enly rule, is what the most holy and zeal-
ous believer cannot attain. A perfect per-
sonal holiness is not attainable by mortals.
For "if we say that we have no sin, we
deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in
us." Notwithstanding, the law is no less
the standard of duty, is no less the role by
which we ought to walk, than if we could
observe it with the greatest punctuality.
And every one who pretends to faith in Je-
sus ought to exert his best endeavors, and
u.se his utmost diligence, that both his tem-
pers and actions may correspond with it
as much as possible. This is his indispen-
sable duty, and this, if a real Christian,
will be his sincere desire.

Nor has the true believer any objection
to it, or any fears from it, thus considered.
It is no longer a fiery law, thundering out
anathemas, and flashing vengeance against
him. No, it is mild and gentle. He sees
that its precepts are highly salutary, and
its prohibitions exactly right. He would
not wish to have them altered. Love to
God, and love to our neighbor, is a com-
pendium of its precepts ; and in the exer-
cise of that love he desires to abound. As
to its prohibitions, he knows that the things
forbidden would be an injury to him were
they pursued ; therefore he esteems it hie
happiness to abstain from them. The new
disposition he received in his regeneration,
inclines him to love God and delight in hie
law as pure and holy. The gospel furnish-
es him with the strongest arguments and
most winning motives to abound in obedi-
ence, while it is his earnest prayer that the
Spirit of grace would afford effectual as-
sistance for the performance of it. And it
is his greatest grief that he does not more
constantly and more perfectly transcribe
the sacred precepts into his conduct, and
cause them to shine in his own example.

Preserver, Governor, and Supreme Good, he necessarily
stands related ; so related as to be accountable to hira
for the enjoyment of every favor, the exercise of all his
powers, and the performance of every act. As Jeho-
vah's consummate perfections demand of a rational
creature, that is absolutely dependent upon him, and
formed for his glory, the highest acts of adoration , as
the dominion of God. over all creatures, requires
obedience and subjection ; as the majesty and justice of
God challenges humility and reverence, so the bound-
less goodne.ss of God, which is the source of all the
comforts we have received, of all the blessings we now
enjoy, and of all tlie happiness we hereafler expect —
that infinite goodness, I say, to which every man's con-
science bears witness, obliges the reasonable creature
10 love God ; that is to cleave to him with all the force
of inclination and all the fervor of affection, as being
supremely amiable, and to rejoice in his happiness, as
a Being of boundless excellence. And as one divine
perfection implies all others, and one relation of God to
man comjirehends all others, including at the same time
all the duties of man to God, which arise from those re-
the comforts of life ; from whom only he can exiiect sal- 1 iations, so all the duties we owe to God might be demon-
ration from every evil, and tlie enjoyment of every good siraled fnim almost any of those divine perfections
tliat is necessary to perfect his nature and reniier him which have a relation toman." Vitring. Observ. Sac.
completely blossedl To God therefore, as bis Creator, ' Torn. II. 1. vi. c. 13, § 1.

DEATH OF LEGAL HOPE,

149

Besides, the believer beholds the law —
not in the hands of Moses, and as surround-
ed with the flames of Sinai — but in the
hands of that Prince of peace who is King
in Zion. He sees that the dear, the adora-
ble, the ascended Jesus, having fulfilled its
high demands as a covenant, and released
him from its awful curse, now employs it
as an instrument of his benign government,
for the good of tlie redeemed, and the glory
of his own eternal name. As in the hand
of Christ it is a friend and a guide, point-
ing out the way in which tlie Christian
ought to walk, so as to express his gratitude
to God for his benefits, and glorify the Lord
Redeemer. It shows him also, at the same
time, how imperfect his own obedience is,
and so is a happy mean of keeping him
humble at the foot of sovereign grace, and
entirely dependent on the righteousness of
his divine Sponsor.

And now, reader, what tliink you of the
law as a rule of conduct ? Is it pleasant,
is it delightful to you ? In vain you pro-
fess to know the glorious gospel, while you
continue an enemy to the holy law. For
as the law, in its covenant form, is the ap-
pointed mean of convincing the careless
sinner of his need of that righteousness
which is revealed in the gospel, for the jus-
tification of his person before God, so the
gospel, bringing adequate relief to the dis-
tressed conscience, is the happy instrument
of conciliating the believer's regards to
the law as a rule of conduct, that his faith
may be evidenced in the sight of men.
Thus the law and the gospel are mutually
subservient one to another, while both agree
to promote the happiness of the redeemed,
and the glory of their divine Author. He,
therefore, who does not pay an habitual re-
gard to the law in the way of obedience^
has no experience of the gospel in a way
of comfort. And as he tramples on that
divine authority which shines in the former,
so he despises the boundless grace which is
revealed in the latter. Such an one is an
enemy to both, and his state is most deplo-
rable.

Remember, reader, that you may talk as
much as you please about the holy tenden-
cy of evangelical principles, but the adver-
saries of the gospel will never believe you,
if they do not see the truth of what you
say, exemplified in your own conduct. The

language of the observations they make on
your conversation is, "Ye who talk with
such fluency and confidence about the doc-
trines of grace., and the necessity o^ faith,
let us see what influence these doctrines
have on your own tempers and your own be-
haviour ? Show us your faith by your
works?" This is a reasonable demand.
They are authorized to make it. And wo,
wo, be to that professor of evangelical truth,
who cannot in some measure satisfy it !
For if his conduct be not in some degree
answerable to his profession, he will soon
be treated as one of the greatest enemies
to Christ and his cause.

Are you a believer in Jesus ? one that
" knows the grace of God in truth ?" You
have the purest and strongest motives im-
aginable to cause you to regard the law.
Has the Son of the Highest done all
that you were bound to perform as the con-
dition of life, and suffered all that you were
condemned to sustain as the penalty an-
nexed to disobedience ? Has he done and
suffered all this in your stead, that he might
procure a full, final, and everlasting salva-
tion for you, a poor damnable sinner ? Has
he expressed his regard to the law as a cov-
enant, not in words but in deeds., in such
deeds as astonish the universe 1 and shall
you be backward to manifest your love to
the law as a rule of duty, by a serious, ho-
ly heavenly conduct? Did he whom an-
gels adore, obey., and bleed, and die, die an
accursed deatli, that the claims of the law
might be all answered ? and shall it seem
hard to you to deny yourself, to subdue
your lusts, and walk by this heavenly rule ?
Is it the general and popular clamor against
the free and genuine gospel, " that it makes
void the law?" and shall it not be your
constant business and fervent prayer, so to
observe the sacred precepts as to be a liv-
ing confutation of that vile slander ? Do
not reason and conscience, scripture and
experience, all concur to show the expedi-
ency, the utility, the necessity, of conform-
ing your life to the law as a rule ? O, be-
liever ! yours is the happy state — let yours
be the holy life. Let it appear that though
dead to the law as a covenant, you abhor
the things it forbids, and, delight in the
things it commands. Then shall you stop
the mouths of gainsayers ; then shall you
glorify the name of your God. Ameii.

THE END.

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST;

LOFITABLE DISCOURSE

JOHN VI. 37.

SHOWING THE CAUSE, TRUTH, AND MANNER, OF THE COMING OF A SINNER TO JESUS
CHRIST; WITH HIS HAPPY RECEPTION, AND BLESSED ENTERTAINMENT.

By JOHN BUNYAN.

And they shall come which were ready to perish. — Isaiah xxvii. 13.

All that the Father giveth me, shall come to
me ; and him that coineih to vie, I will in
no wise cast out. — John vi. 37.

A LITTLE before, in this chapter, you
may read that the Lord Jesus walked on
the sea to go to Capernaum, having sent
his disciples before in a ship ; but the wind
was contrary, by which means the ship
was hindered in her passage. Now about
the fourth watch of the night, Jesus came
walking on the sea, and overtook them ;
at the sight of whom they were afraid.

Note, When providences are black and
terrible to God's people, the Lord Jesus
ehows himself to them in a wonderful man-
ner; the which sometimes they can as lit-
tle bear, as they can the things that were
terrible to them. They were afraid of the
wind and water ; they were also afraid of
their Lord and Saviour, when he appeared
to them in that state.

But he said, " Be not afraid, It is I."

Note, That the end of the appearing of
the Lord Jesus unto his people, (though
the manner of his appearance be never so
terrible.) is to allay their fears and per-
plexities.

Then they received him into the ship,
and immediately the ship was at the land
whither it went.

A^ote, When Christ is absent from his
people, they go on but slowly, and with
great difficulty ; but when he joineth him-
self unto them, Oh ! how fast they steer
their course ! how soon are they at their
journey's end !

The people now among whom he last
preached, when they saw that both Jesus
was gone and hie disciples, they also took

shipping, and came to Capernaum seeking'
for Jesus. And when they had found him,
they, wondering, asked him, Rabbi, when
earnest thou hither? But the Lord Jesus
slighting their compliment, answered, " Ver-
ily, verily, ye seek me not because ye saw
the miracles, but because ye did eat of the
loaves and were filled."

Note, A people may follow Christ far for
base ends, as these went after him beyond
sea for loaves. A man's belly will carry
him a great way in religion ; yea, a man's
belly will make him venture far for Christ.

Note again. They are not feigning com-
pliments, but gracious intentions, that crown
the work in the eyes of Christ; or thus, it
is not the toil and business of professors,
but their love to him, that makes him ap-
prove of them.

Note again, When men shall look for
friendly entertainment at Christ's hand, if
their hearts be rotten, even then will they
meet with a check and rebuke. " Ye seelc
me, not because ye saw the miracles but
because ye did eat of the loaves and were
filled."

Yet observe again, He doth not refuse to
give, even to these, good counsel : He bids
them lo labor for the meat that endurelh
to eternal life. O how willing would Je-
sus Christ have even those professors that
come to him with pretences only, come to
him sincerely, that they may be saved.

The text, you will find, is, after much
more discourse with and about his people,
and it is uttered by the Lord Jesus, as the
conclusion of the whole, and intimateth,
that since they were professors in pretence
only, and therefore such as his soul could not
delight in, as such, ihat he would content
himself with a remnant that his Father

GOME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 151

had bestowed upon him. As who should!
say, "I am not Hke to be honored in that
salvation ; but the Father has bestowed
upon me a people, and they shall come to
me in truth, and in them will I be satisfied."
The text before may be called Chrisl^s re-
pose ; in the fulfilling thereof he resteth
himself content, after much labor and many
sermons spent, as it were, in vain. As he
saith by the prophet, " I have labored in
vain, I have spent my strength for nought,
and in vain." (Isa. xlix. 4.)

But as there he saith, '-My judgment is
with the Lord, and my work with God :"
so in the text he saith, " All that the Fath-
er giveth me, shall come to me ; and him
that Cometh to me, I will in no wise cast
out." By these words, therefore, the Lord
Jesus comforteth himself under the consid-
eration of the dissimulation of some of his
followers. He also thus betook himself to
rest under the consideration of the little ef-
fect that his ministry had in Capernaum,
Chorazin, and Bethsaida : " I thank thee,
O Father," said he, " Lord of heaven and
earth, because thou hast hid these things
from the wise and prudent, and hast reveal-
ed them to babes ; even so Father, for so
it seemed good in thy sight." (Matt. xi.
25. Luke x. 21.)

The text, in general, consists of two
parts, and hath special respect to the Fath
er and the Son; as also their joint man-
agement of the salvation of the people
" All that the Father giveth me shall come
to me ; and him that cometh to me, I will
in no wise cast out."

The first part of the text, as is evident,
respected the Father and his gift; the oth-
er part the Son, and his reception of that

gift-
First, For the gift of the Father there is
this to be considered, to wit:

The gift itself; and that is the gift of
certain persons to the Son. The Father
giveth, and that gift shall come: "And
him that cometh." The gift then is of per-
sons ; the Father giveth persons to Jesus
Christ.

Secondly, Next you have the Son's re-
ception of this gift, and that showeth itself
in these particulars:

L In his hearty acknowledgment of it
to be a gift : " The Father giveth me."

2. In his taking notice, after a solemn
manner, of alt and every part of the gift :
'^ All that the Father giveth me."

3. In this resolution to bring them to
himself: "All that the Father giveth me
shall come to me."

4. And in his determining, that not any
thing shall make him dislike them in their
coming: "And him that cometh to me, I
will in no wise cast out."

These things might be spoken to at
large, as they are in this method presented
to view: But I shall choose to speak the
words,

1. By way of explication.

2. By way of observation.

First, By way of explication, "All that
the Father giveth me." This word all,
is often used in scripture, and is to be taken
more largely, or more strictly, even as the
truth or argument for the sake of which it
is made use of, will bear. Wherefore, that
we may better understand the mind of
Christ, in the use of it here, we must con-
sider, that it is limited and restrained only
to those that shall be saved, to wit, to those
that shall come to Christ; even to those
whom he will " in no wise cast out." Thus,
also the words, "all Israel," is sometimes
to be taken ; though sometimes it is taken
for the whole family of Jacob. And so
" all Israel shall be saved." (Rom. xi.)
By "all Israel," here, he intendeth not all
Israel, in the largest sense; for they are
not all Israel which are of Israel ; " neither
because they are the seed of Abraham, are
they all children; but in Isaac shall thy
seed be called : that is. They who are the
children of the flesh ; these are not the
children ot^ God, but the children of the
promise are counted for their seed." (Rom.
ix. 6, 7, 8.)

This word all, therefore, must be limited
and enlarged, as the truth and argument
for the sake of which it is used, will bear ;
else we shall abuse scriptures and readers,
and ourselves, and all. "And I, if I be
lifted up from the earth." said Christ, " will
draw all men after me." (John xii. 32.)
Can any one imagine, that by all, in thi.s
place, he should mean ail and every indi-
vidual man in the world, and not rather
that all that is consonant to the scope of
the place? And if, by being "lifted up
from the earth," he means, as he should
seem, his being taken up into heaven ; and
if, by "drawing all men after him," he
meant a drawing them into the place of
glory; then must he mean by all men,
those, and only those, that shall in truth
be eternally saved from the wrath to come :
"For God hath concluded them all in un-
belief, that he might have mercy upon all."
(Rom. xi, 32.) Here again you have all
and all, two alls: but yet a greater dispar-
ity between the all made mention of in
the first place, and that all made mention
of in the second. Those intended in this
text are the Jews, even all of them, by the
first all that you find in the words. The.
second all, doth also intend the same peo-
ple ; but yet only so many of them as God
will have mercy upon. " He hath conclud-
ed them all in unbelief, that he might have

i52 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

mercy upon all." The all also in the text,
is likewise to be limited to be saved, and
tliem only. But again,'

The word giveth, or hath given, must be
restrained, after the same manner, to the
same limited number : '■ all that the Father
giveth me.'' Not all that are given, if you
take the gift of the Father to the Son, in
the largest sense ; for in that sense there
are many given to him that shall never
come uiuo him : yea, many were given
unto him, that he will cast out. I shall
therefore first show you the truth of this,
and then in what sense the gift in the text
must be taken.

First, That all that are given to Christ,
if you take the gift of the Father tc him,
in the largest sense, cannot be intended in
the text, is evident.

1. Because then all the men, yea, all the
things in the world, must be saved. "All
things," said he, "are delivered unto me
by the Father." (Matt. xi. 27.) This, I
think, no rational man in the world will
conclude: Therefore the gift intended hi
the text, must be restrained to some ; to a
gift that is given by way of speciality by
the Father to the Son.

2. It must not be taken for all, that in
any sense are given by the Father to him,
because the Father hath given some, yea,
many, to him, to be dashed in pieces by
him. " Ask of me." said the Father to
him, " and I will give thee the heathen for
thine inheritance, and the utmost parts of
the earth for thy possession." But what
must be done with tliem? must he save
them all? No; "Thou shalt break them
with a rod of iron; thou shalt dash them
in pieces like a potter's vessel." (Ps. ii.)
This method he useth not with thera that
he saved by his grace, but those that him-
self and saints shall rule over in justice and
severity, (Rev. ii. 26, 27:) yet, as you see,
they are given to him ; therefore the gift
intended in the text, must be restrained to
some, to a gift that is given by way of
speciality by the Father to the Son.

In Psalm xi. he saiili plainly, that some
are given to him that he might destroy
them : " Thou hast given me the necks of
mine enemies, that I might destroy them
that hate me." (v. 40.) Those therefore,
cannot be of the number of those that are
said to be given in the text; for those,
even ail of them, shall come to him, and
he will in no icise cast out.

3. Some are given to Christ, that he by
them might bring about some of his high
and deep designs in the world. Thus Ju-
das was given to Christ, to wit, that by
him, even as he was determined before, he
might bring about his death, and so the
salvation of his elect by his blood. Yea,
and Judas must so manage this bueinese.

as that he must lose himself for ever in
bringing it to pass. Therefore the Lord
Jesus, even his losing of Judas, applies
himself to the judgment of his Father, if he
had not in that thing done thai which was
right, even in suffering of Judas so to bring
about his master's death, as that he might
by Eo doing bring about his own eternal
damnation also.

" Those" said he, " that thou gavest me,
have I kept, and none of them is lost, but
the son of perdition, that the scriptures
might be fulfilled." (John xvii. 12.) Let
us then grant that Judas was given to
Christ, but not as those made mention of
in the text ; for then he should not have fail-
ed to have been so received by Christ, and
kept to eternal life. Indeed he was given
to Christ; but he was given to him to lose
him, in the way that I have mentioned be-
Ibre ; he was given to Christ, that he by
him might bring about his own death, ag
was before determined ; and that in the
overthrow of him that did it. Yea, he
must bring about his dying for us in the losa
of the instrument that betrayed him, that
he might even fulfil the scripture in his de-
struction, as well as in the salvation of the
rest. "And none of them is lost, but the
sou of perdition, that the scripture might
be fulfilled."

The gift therefore in the text must not
be taken in the largest sense, but even as
the words will bear, to wit, for such a gift
as he acccpteth, and promiseth to be an ef-
fectual means of eternal salvation too.
" All that the Father giveth me, shall come
to me; and him that cometh to me I will
in no wise cast out." Mark! They shall
come that are special given unto me ; and
they shall by no means be rejected : For
this is the substance of the text.

Those, therefore, intended as the gift in
the text, are those that are given by cove-
nant to the Son ; those that in other places
are called the elect, the chosen, the sheep,
and the children of the proinise, &c.

These be they that the Father hath giv-
en to Christ to keep them ; those that
Christ hath promised eternal life unto ;
those to whom he hath given his word, and
that he will have with him in his kingdom
to behold his glory.

" This is the will of the Father that hath
sent me, that of all he hath given me, I
should lose nothing, but should raise it up
again at the last day. And I give unto
them eternal life, and they shall never
perish ; neither shall any man pluck them
out of my hand. My Father that gave
them me, is greater than all : And no man
is able to pluck them out of my Father's
hand. As thou hast given him power over
all flesh, that he should give eternal life to
as many as thou hast given him. Thine

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 153

they were and thou gavest them me, and
they have kept thy word ; I pray for them ;
I pray not for the world, but for those that
thou hast given me ; for they are thine.
And all mine are thine, and thine are mine :
and I am glorified in them."

" Keep through thine own name those
whom thou hast given me, that they may
be one as we are. Father I will, that
those whom thou hast given me, may be
with me where I am, that they may behold
my glory, which thou hast given me ; for
thjou lovedst me before the foundation of
the world." (John ii. 39 : chap. x. 58 ;
and chap. xvii. 1, 6, 9. 10, 24.)

All these sentences are of the same im-
port with the text; and the alls and the
many, those, they, &c. in these several say-
ings of Christ, are the same with all the
given in the text; "All that the Father
gaveth."

So that, as I said before, the word all, as
also other words, must not be taken in
such sort as our foolish fancies or ground-
less opinions will prompt us to, but do ad
mit of an enlargement or a restriction, ac
cording to the true meaning and intent of
the text We must therefore diligently
consult the meaning of the text, by compar-
ing it with the other sayings of God ; so
shall we be better able to find out the mind
of the Lord, in the word which he has
given us to know it by.

" All that the Father giveth."— By this
word Father, Christ describeth the person
giving; by which we may learn several
useful things : 1. That the Lord God, and
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, is con
cerned with the Son in the salvation of
his people. True, his acts, to our salva
tion, are diverse from those of the Son ;
he was not capable of doing that, or those
things for us, as did the Son ; he died not,
he spilt not blood for our redemption, as
the Son ; but yet he hath a hand, a great
hand in our salvation too. As Christ saith
The Father himself loveth you," and his
love is manifest in choosing of us, in giv
ing of us to his Son ; yea, and in giving
his Son also to be a ransom for us. Hence
he is called, " The Father of all mercies,
and the God of all comfort," For even
the Father hath himself found out, and
made way for his grace to come to us
through the sides, and the heart-blood of
his well beloved Son. (Col. i. 12.) The
Father therefore is to be remembered and
adored as one having a chief hand in the
salvation of sinners. "We ought to give
thanks to the Father, who hath made us
meet to be partakers of the inheritance of
the saints in light; for the Father sent the
Son to be the Saviour of the world. (Col.
i. 12. 1 Johji iv. 14.) As also we see in

Vol. 3.— T.

the text, the Father giveth the sinner to
save him.

2. Christ Jesus the Lord, by this word
Father, would familiarize this giver to us.
Naturally the name of God is dreadful to
us, especially when he is discovered to us
by those names that declare his justice, ho-
liness, power and glory ; but now this word
Father is a familiar word, it frighteth not
the sinner, but rather inclineth his heart to
love, and be pleased with the remembrance
of him. Hence Christ also, when he would
have us to pray with Godly boldness, puts
this word Father into our mouths, saying,
when ye pray, " Our Father which art in
heaven ;" concluding thereby, that by the
familiarity that by such a word is intimated,
the children of God may take more bold-
ness to pray for, and ask great things, I
myself have often found, that when I can
say but this word Father, it doth me more
good than if I called by any other scrip-
ture name. It is worth your noting, that
to call God by his relative title, was rare
among the saints in Old-Teetament times.
Seldom do you find him called by this
name, no, sometimes not in three or four
books ; but now in New-Testament times,
he is called by no name so often as this,
both by the Lord Jesus himself, and by the
apostles afterwards. Indeed the Lord Je-
sus was he that first made this name com-
mon among the saints, and that taught
them, both in their discourses, their pray-
ers, and in their writings, so much to use
it ; it being more pleasing to, and discov-
ering more plainly our interest in God,
than any other expression ; for by this one
name we are made to understand that all
our mercies are the offspring of God, and
that we also that are called, are his chil-
dren by adoption.

" All that the Father giveth.— This word
giveth is out of Christ's ordinary dialect,
and seemeth to intimate, at the first sound,
as if the Father's gift to the Son was not
aji act thai is past, but one that is present
and continuing ; when indeed this gift was
bestowed upon Christ when the covenant,
the eternal covenant, was made between
them before all worlds. Wherefore, in
those in other places, when this gift is men-
tioned, it is still spoken of as an act that
is past : As, All that he hath given me ; to
as many as thou hast given me : thou gav-
est them me, and these which thou hast giv-
en me. Therefore of necessity this must
be the first and chief sense of the text; I
mean of this giveth, otherwise the doctrine
of election, and of the eternal covenant
which was made between the Father and
the Son, (in which covenant this gift of the
Father is most certainly comprised,) will
be shaken, or at leastwise questionable by

154 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

erroneous and wicked men : for they may
Bay, that the Father gave not all those to
Christ that shall be saved, before the world
was made ; for that tliis act of giving is
an act of continuation.

But again, this word g-iveth is not to be
rejected ; lor it hath its proper use, and
may signify to us,

1. That though the act of giving among
men doth admit of the time past, or the
time to oome, and is to be spoken of with
reference to such time ; yet with God it is
not so. Things past, or things to come
are always present with God, and with his
Son Jesus Christ: "He calleth things
that are not" that is, to us, " as though
they were." And again, " Known unto
God are all his works from the foundation
of the world." All things to God are pres-
ent, and so the gift of the Father to the
Son, although to us, as is manifest by the
word, it is an act that is past, (Rom. iv. 17.
Acts XV. 10.)

2. Christ may express himself ihus, to
show, that the Father hath not only given
him this portion in the lump, before the
world was, but that those that he had so
given, he will give him again ; that is, will
bring them to him at the time of their con-
version ; for " the Father bringeth them to
Christ." (John vi. 44.)

As it is said, " She shall be brought un-
to the king in raiment of needle-work ;"
that is, in the righteousness of Christ; for
it is God imputeth that to those that are
saved. (Psalm xlv. 14; 1 Cor. i.)

A man giveth his daughter to such a
man, first in order to marriage, and this
respects the time past ; and he giveth her
again at the day appointed in marriage :
And in this last sense, perhaps, the text
may have a meaning ; that is, that all that
the Father hath (before the world was)
given to Jesus Christ, he giveth them
again to him, in the day of their espousals.

Things that are given among men, are
oft-times best at first, to wit, when they
are new ; and the reason is, because all
earthly things wax old : but with Christ it is
not so : Thir? gift ol" the Father is not an
old and delbrmed, and unpleasant in his
eyes; and thereibre to him it is always
new. When the Lord spake of giving
the land of Canaan to the Israelites, he
saith not, that he had given, or would give
it to them, but thus: '-The Lord thy God
giveth thee this land." (Deut. xi. 13.)
Not but that he had given it to them, while
they were in the loins of their fathers, hun-
dreds of years before. Yet he saith noia
he giveth it to them ; as if they were now
also in the very act of taking possession,
when as yet they were on the other side of
Jordan. What then should be the mean-
ing? Why, 1 take it to be this : That the

land should be to them always as new;
as new as if they were taking possession
therefore but now. And so is the gift of
the Father mentioned in the text to the
Son ; it is always new, as if it were always
new.

"All that the Father giveth me." In
these words you find mention made of two
persons, the Father and the Son : the Fath-
er giving, and the Son receiving or accept-
ing of this gift. This then, in the first
place, clearly demonstrateth, that tlie Fath-
er and the Son, though they, with tlie Holy
Ghost, are one and the same eternal God ;
yet as to their personahty, are distinct. The
Father is one, the Holy Spirit is one. But
because there is in this text mention made
but of two of the three, therefore a word
about these two. The giver and receiver
cannot be the same person in a proper sense,
in the same act of giving and receiving.
He that giveih, giveth not to himself but
to another : the Father giveth not to the
Father, to wit, to himself, but to the Son }
the Son receiveth not of the Son, to wit,
of himself, but of the Father ; so when the
Father giveth commandment, he giveth it
not to himself, but to another; as Christ
saith. He hath given me a commandment,
(John xii. 49.) So again, " I am one that
bear witness of myself, and $he Father
that sent me, beareth witness of me."

Further, here is something implied that
is not expressed, to wit, that the Father
hath not given all men to Christ; that is,
in that sense as is intended in the text,
though in a larger, as was said before, he
hath given him every one of them ; lor
then all should be saved ; he hath there-
fore disposed of some another way. He
gives some up to idolatry ; he gives some
up to uncleanness, to vile affections, and to
a reprobate mind. Now these he dispos-
eth of in his anger, for their destruction,
(Acts vii. 42. Rom. i. 24, 26. 28.) that they
may reap the fruit of their doings, and be
filled with the reward of their own ways.
But neither hath he thus disposed of all
men ; he hath even of mercy reserved some
from thy judgments, and those are they
that he will pardon, as he saith " For I
will pardon them whom I reserve." (Jer.
i. 20.) Now these he hath given to Jesus
Christ by will, as a legacy and portion.
Hence the Lord Jesus says, " This is the
Father's will which hath sent me, tJiat of
all which he hath given me, I should lose
nothing, but should raise it up again at
the last day."

The Father therefore, in giving of them
to him to save them, must needs declare
unto us these following things:

]. That he is able to answer this design
of God, viz. to save them to the uttermost
sin, the utterniost temptation, &c. (Heb.

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. I55

vii. 25.) Hence he is said to " lay help on
one that is mighty, mighty to save ;" and
hence it is again, that God did even of old
promise to send his people a Saviour, a
great one. (Psalm Ixxxix. 19. Isa. Ixiii.
1.) To save is a great work, and calls for
Almightiness in the undertaker ; hence he
is called the "Mighty God, the Wonder
ful Counsellor," &c. Sin is strong, Satan
is also strong, death and the grave are
strong, and so is the curse of the law;
therefore it follows, that this Jesus must
needs be by God the Father accounted al-
mighty, in that he hath given his elect to
him to save them, and deliver them from
these, and that in despite of all their force
and power.

And he gave us testimony of this his
might, when he was employed in that
part of our deliverance that called for a
declaration of it. He abolished death ;
he destroyed him that had the power oi
death ; he had finished sin, and made an
end of it, as to its damning effect upon the
persons that the Father hath given him ;
he hath vanquished the curse of the law,
nailed it to his cross, and made a show of
these things openly, (2 Tim. i. 10 ; Heb.
ii. 14, 15; Hos. xiii. 14; Dan. ix. 24; Gal.
iii. 13 ; Col. ii. 14, 15.)

Yea, and even now, as a sign of his tri-
umph and conquest, he is alive from the
dead, and hath the keys of hell and death
in his own keeping, (Rev. i. 18.)

2. The Father's giving of them to him
to save them, declares unto them that he is
and will be faithful in his office of Media-
tor, and that therefore they shall be secur-
ed from the fruit and wages of their sins.
which is eternal damnation, by his faithful
execution of it. And indeed it is said,
even by the Holy Ghost himself, " That
he is faithful to him that appointed him ;"
that is, to this work of saving those that
the Father hath given him for that pur-
pose; as "Moses was faithful in all his
house." Yea, and more faithful too ; for
Moses was faithful in God's house, but as
a servant; "but Christ as a Son over his
own house." (Heb. iii.)

And therefore this man is counted worthy
of more glory than Moses, even upon this
account, because more faithful than he, as
well as because of the dignity of his per-
son. Therefore in him, and in his truths
and faithfulness, God rested well pleased,
and put all the government of his people
upon his shoulders. Knowing, that nothing
shall be wanting in him, that may any way
perfect the design. And of this he, to
wit, the Son, hath already given a proof:
For when the time was come, that his
blood was by divine justice required for
their redemption, washing, and cleansing.

if it had been water out of a vessel ; not
sticking to part with his own life, that the
life which was laid up for his people in
heaven might not fail to be bestowed on
them. And upon this account, as well as
upon any other, it is that God callelh him
the " righteous servant." (Isa. liii.) For
his righteouness could never have been
complete, if he had not been to the utter-
most faithful to the work he undertook ; it
is also because he is faiihful and true, that
in righteousness he doth judge and make
work for his people's deliverance. He will
faithfully perform this trust reposed in him :
The Father knows this, and hath therefore
given his elect unto him.

3. The Father giving of them to him,
to save them, declares that he is, and will
be gentle and patient towards them, under
all their provocations and miscarriages.
It is not to be imagined, the trials and prov-
ocations that the Son of God hath all along
had with these people that hath been given
to him to save: indeed he is said to be a
tried stone ; for he has been tried, not only
by the devil, guilt of sin, death, and the
curse of the law, but also by his people's
ignorance, unruliness, falls into sin, and
declining to errors in lite and doctrine.
Were we but capable of seeing how the
Lord Jesus had been tried even by his peo-
ple, ever since there was one of them in
the world, we should be amazed at his
patience and gentle carriages to them. It
is said, indeed, •' The Lord is very pitiful,
slow to anger, and of great mercy : and,
indeed, if he had not been so, he could
never have endured their manners as he
has done from Adam hitherto. Therefore
is his pity and bowels towards his church
preferred above the pity and bowels of a
mother towards her child. " Can a woman
forget her suckling child, that she should
not have compassion on the son of her
womb ? Yea, they may forget, yet I will
not forget thee, saith the Lord." (Isa.
xlix. 157)

God did once give Moses, as Christ's
servant, a handful of his peojple, to carry
them in his bosom, but no farther than
from Egypt to Canaan ; and this Moses,
as is said of him by the Holy Ghost, was
the meekest man that was then to be found
on the earth ; yea, and he loved the peo-
ple at a very great rate ; yet neither would
his meeknes's nor love hold out in this work ;
he failed and grew passionate, even to
provoking his God to anger under this
work. " And Moses said unto the Lord,
Wherefore hast thou afflicted thy servant ?"
But what was the affliction! Why, the
Lord hath said unto him, " Carry this peo-
ple in thy bosom as a nursing father bear-
eth his sucking child, unto the land that

he as freely poured it out of his heart as 'he eware unto their fathers." And how

156 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

tlien ? " Not I," says Moses, " I am not
able to bear all this people alone, because
it is too heavy for me : If thou deal thus
with me, kill me, I pray thee, out of hand,
if I have found favor in thy sight ; and let
me not see my wretchedness." (Numb,
xi. 11, 12,, 13, 14.) God gave them to Mo-
ses, that he might carry (hem in his bosom,
that he might show gentleness and pa-
tience towards them, under all the provo-
cations wherewith they would provoke him
from that time till he had brought them to
their land ; but he failed in the work ; he
could not exercise it, because he had not
that sufficiency of patience towards ihem :
But now it is said of the person speaking
in the text, " That he shall gather his lambs
■with his arm, and shall carry them in his
bosom, and shall gently lead them that are
•wilh young. (Isa. xl. 10, 11;) intimating
that this was one of the qualifications that
God looked for, and knew was in him,
when he gave his elect to him to save
them.

4. The Father giving of them to him to
save them, declares that he hath a sufficien-
cy of wisdom to wage wiih all those diffi-
culties that would attend him in his bring-
ing of his sons and daughters unto glory.
(1 Cor. i. 30.) "He hath made him to us
to be wisdom ;" yea, he is called wisdom
itself. And God said moreover, That " he
shall deal prudently." (Isa. lii. 13.) And,
indeed, he that shall take upon him to be
the Saviour of the people, had need be
■wise, because their adversaries are subtle
above any. Here they are to encounter
■with the serpent, who for his subtlety out-
witted our father and mother, when tlieir
wisdom was at the highest. (Gen. iii.)
But if we talk of wisdom, our Jesus is wise,
wiser than Solomon, wiser than all men,
wiser than all angels ; he is even the wns-
dom of God. Christ is the wisdom of God.
(Col. i. 1.) And hence it is that he turn-
eth sin, temptations, persecutions, falls,
and all things, for good unto his people.
(Rom. viii.)

Now these things thus concluded on, do
show us also the great and wonderful love
of the Father, in that he should choose out
one every way so well prepared for the
work of man's salvation.

Herein indeed perceive we the love of
God. Hiram gathered, that God loved
Israel, because he had given them such a
king as Solomon, (2 Chron. ii. 11;) but
how much more may we behold the love
that God hath bestowed upon us, in that
he hath given us to his Son, and zdso given
his Son for us.

"All that the Father giveth me" shall
come. In these last words there is closely
inserted an answer unto the Fathers end
in giving of his elect unto Jesua Christ.

The Father's end was, that they might
come to him, and be saved by him ; and
that, says the Son, shall be done ; neither
sin nor Satan, neither flesh nor world,
neither wisdom nor lolly, shall hinder their
coming to me. " They shall come to me,
and him that cometh to me, I will in no
wise cast out."

Here therefore the Lord Jesus positively
determineth to put forth a sufficiency of all
grace, as shall etiectually perform his
promise. " They shall come :" that is, he
shall cause them to come, by infusing of
an effectual blessing into all the means
that shall be used to that end. As was
said to the evil spirit that vs^as sent to per-
suade Ahab to go and fall at Ramoth-Gil-
ead ; " Go : thou shalt persuade him and
prevail also ; go forth, and do so," (1 Kings,
xxii. 22 ;) so will Jesus Christ say to the
means that shall be used for the bringing
of those to him that the Father hath given
him. I say, he will bless it effectually to
this very end ; it shall persuade them, and
shall prevail also ; else, as I said, the Fath-
er's end would be frustrate ; for the Fath-
er's will is, that " of all that he hath given
him, he should lose nothing, but should
raise it up at the last day ;" in order next
unto himselt", Christ the first-fruits, after-
wards those that are at his coming. (1
Cor. XV.) But this cannot be done, if there
should fail to be a work of grace effectual-
ly wrought, though but in any one of them.
But this shall not fail to be wrought in
them, even in all the Father hath given him
to save. " All that the Father hath givea
me. shall come unto me," &c.

But to speak more distinctly to the words,
" they shall come," two things I would
show you from these words : 1. What it is
to come to Christ. 2. What force there is
in this promise, to make them come to him.

1st. I would show you what it is to come
to Christ. This word come must be un-
derstood spiritually, not carnally ; for many
come to him carnally, or bodily, that had
no saving advantage by him : multitudes
did thus come unto him in the days of his
flesh, yea, innumerable companies. There
is also at this day a formal customary com-
ing to his ordinances, and way of worship,
which availeth not any thing; but with
them I shall now meddle ; for they are not
intended in the text. The coming, then,
intended in the text, is to be understood of
the coming of the mind to him, even the
moving of the heart towards him ; I say
the moving of the heart towards him, from
a sound sense of the absolute want that a
man hath of him for his justification and
salvation.

This description of coming to Christ di-
videth itself into two heads : 1. That com-
mg to Christ is a moving of the mind

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. I57

towards him; 2. That it is a moving of
the mind towards him, from a sound sense
of the absolute want that a man hath of
him for his justification and salvation.

To speak to the first, That it is a mov-
ing of the mind towards him. This is ev-
ident, because coming hilher or thither, if
it be vokmtary, is by an act of the mind
or will ; so coming to Christ is through the
inclining of the will. " Thy people shall
be willing." Psal. cxl. 3. This willing-
ness of heart it is which sets the mind a
moving after, or towards him. The church
expresseth this moving of her mind towards
Christ, by the moving of her bowels.
" My beloved put in his hand by the hole
of the door, and my bowels were moved
for him." Song v. 4. "My bowels;"
the passions of my mind and affections ;
which passions of the affections are ex-
pressed by the yearning and sounding of
the bowels, the yearning and passionate
working of them ; the sounding of them,
or their making a noise for him. Gen.
xliii. 30; 1 Kings iii. 26; Isa. xvi. 11.

This then is the coming to Christ, even
a moving towards him with the mind,
"And it shall come to pass, that every
thing that liveth, which moveth whitherso-
ever the water shall come, shall live."

The water in this text is the grace of
God in the doctrine of it. The living
things are the children of men ; to whom
the grace of God, by the gospel, is preach-
ed. Now, saith he, "every living thing
which moveth whither^ever the water
shall come, shall live." And see how this
word " moveth" is expounded by Christ
himself, in the book of Revelation. " The
Spirit and the bride say, Come ; and let
him that heareth say, Come. And let him
that is athirst, come. And whosoever will,
(that is willing,) let him take of the water
of life freely." Rev. xxii. 17.

So that to move in thy mind and will af-
ter Christ, is to be coming to him. There
are many poor souls that are coming to
Christ, that yet cannot tell how to believe
it, because they think that coming to him
is some strange and wonderful thing ; and
indeed so it is : but I mean, they overlook
the inclination of their will, the moving of
their mind, and the sounding of their bow-
els after him ; and count these none of this
strange and wonderful thing; when indeed
it is a work of the greatest wonder in this
world, to see a man who is sometimes
dead in sin, possessed of the devil, an en-
emy to Christ and all things spiritually
good ; I say, to see this man moving with
his mind after the Lord Jesus Christ, is
one of the highest wonders in the world.

2. It is moving of the mind towards him,
from a sound sense of the absolute want
that a man hath of him for his justification

and salvation. Indeed, without this sense
of a lost condition without him, there will
be no moving of the mind towards him : A
moving of their mouth there may be ;
" With their mouth they show much love."
Ezek. xxxiii. 31. Such a people as this
will come as the true people cometh; that
is, in show and outward appearance : And
they will sit before God's ministers, as his peo-
ple sit before them ; and they will hear his
words too, but they will not do them ; that
is, will not come inwardly with their minds :
" For with their mouth they show much
love, but their heart (or mind) goeth after
their covetousness." Now all this, because
they want an effectual sense of the misery
of their state by nature ; lor not till they
have that, will they in their mind move
after him. Therefore, thus it is said con-
cerning the true comers, " At that day the
great trumpet shall be blown, and they
shall come which were ready to perish in
the land of Assyria, and the outcasts of the
land of Egypt, and shall worship the Lord
in his holy mountain, at Jerusalem." Isa.
xxvii. 13. They are then (as you see) the
outcast, and those that are ready to perish,
that indeed have their minds effectually
moved to come to Jesus Christ. This sense
of things was that which made the three
thousand come, that made Saul come, that
made the jailer come, and that indeed
makes all others come, that come effectual-
ly. Acts ii. 2, 16.

Of the true coming to Christ, the three
lepers were a famous semblance, of whom
you read, 2 Kings vii. 3, &c. The famine
in those days was sore in the land, there
was no bread for the people ; and as fot
that sustenance that was, which was asses'
flesh, and doves' dung, that was only in
Samaria; and of these the lepers had no
share, for they were thrust without the city.
Well, now they sat in the gate of the city,
and the hunger was, as I may say, making
his last meal of them ; and being there-
fore half dead already, .what do they think
of doing ? Why first, they display the dis-
mal colors of death before each other's
faces, and then resolve what to do, saying,
" If we say we will go into the city, then
the famine is in the city, and we shall die
there ; if we sit still here we die also :
Now therefore come, let us fall into the host
of the Syrians, if they save us alive we
shall live ; if they kill us we shall but die."
Here now Avas necessity at work, and this
necessity drove them to go thither for life,
whither else they would never have gone for
it. Thus it is with them that in truth come to
Jesus Christ: deatli is before them, they
see it, and feel it ; he is feeding upon them,
and will eat them quite up, if they come
not to Jesus Christ; and therefore they
come, even of necessity, being forced tliere-

158 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST,

to by that sense they have of their being
utterly and everiastingly undone, if they
find not safety in him.

These are they tliat will come : Indeed,
these are they that are invited to come.
"Come unto me all ye that labor and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
Matt. xi. 28. ,

Take two or three things to make this
more plain ; to wit, That coming to Christ
floweth from a sound sense of the absolute
need that a man hath of him, as afore.

1. " They shall come with weeping,
and with supplication will I lead them ; I
will cause them to walk by rivers of waters
in a plain way wlierein they shall not stum-
ble." Jer. xxxi. 9. Mind it ! they come
with weeping and supplication ; they come
with prayers and tears. Now prayers and
tears are the effects of a right sense of the
need of mercy. Thus a senseless sinner
cannot come, he cannot pray, he cannot
cry, he cannot come sensible of what he
sees not, nor feels. " In those days, and at
that time, the children of Israel shall come ;
they and the children of Judah together,
going and weeping ; they shall seek the
Lord their God ; they shall ask tlieir way
to Zion, with their faces thitherward, say-
ing, Come, and let us join ourselves to the
Lord in a perpetual covenant that shall not
be forgotten." Jer. 1. 4, 5.

2. This coming to Christ, it is called a
running to him, a flying to him ; a flying to
him from wrath to come. By all which
terms is set forth the sense of the man that
comes ; to wit, That he is affected with the
sense of his sin, and the death due thereto ;
that he is sensible that the avenger of blood
pursues him ; and that therefore he is cut
off", if he makes not speed to the Son of God
for life. Matt. iii. 7 ; Ps. cxliii. 9. Flying
is the last work of a man in danger ; all
that hear of danger do not fly ; no, not all
that see themselves in danger ; all that
liear of danger will not fly. Men will con-
sider if there be no other way of escape
before they fly. Therefore, as I said, flying
is the last thing. When all refuge fails,
and a man is made to see that there is no-
thing left him but sin, death, and damna-
tion, unless he flies to Christ for life ; then
he flies, and not till then.

3. That the true coming is from a sense
of an absohite need of Jesus Christ to save,
&c. is evident by the outcry that is made
by them to come, even as they are coming
to him. Matt. xiv. 30; Acts ii. 37; Acts
xvi. 30. " Lord save me, or I perish ;"
" Men and brethren, what shall we do ?"
" Sirs, what must I do to be saved ?" and
the like. This language doth sufficiently
discover that the truly-coming souls are
souls sensible of their need of salvation by
Jesus Christ ; and moreover, that there

is nothing else that can help them but
Christ.

4. It is yet farther evident by these few
things that follow : It is said, that such are
pricked in their hearts, that is, with the sen-
tence of death by the law ; and the least
prick in heart kills a man. Acts ii. 37.
Such are said, as 1 said before, to weep, to
tremble, and to be astonished in themselves
at the evident and unavoidable danger that
attends them, unless they fly to Jesus Christ.
Acts ix. 16.

5. Coming to Christ is attended with an
honest and sincere forsaking all for him,
" If any man come unto me and hateth not
his father and mother, and wife and chil-
dren, and brethren and sisters, yea, and his
own life also, he cannot be my disciple ;
and whosoever doth not bear his cross and
come after me, cannot be my disciple."
Luke xiv. 26, 27.

By these and the like expressions else-
where, Christ describeth the true comer, or
the man that indeed is coming to him ; he
is one that casteth all behind his back ; he
leaveth all, he forsaketh all, he hateth all
things that would stand in his way to hin-
der his coming to Jesus Christ. There are
a great many pretended comers to Jesus
Christ in the world. And they are much
like to the man you read of in Matt. xxi. 30,
that said to his Father's bidding, '• I go,
Sir, and went not." I say, there are a
great many such comers to Jesus Christ ;
they say, when Christ calls by his gospel, I
come. Sir ; but still they abide by their
pleasure and carnal delights. They come
not at all, only they give him a courtly
compliment ; but he takes notice of it, and
will not let it pass for any more than a lie ;
he said, " I go. Sir, and went not," he dis-
sembled and lied. Take heed of this, you
that flatter yourselves with your own de-
ceivings. Words will not do with Jesus
Christ: Coming is coming, and nothing
else will go for coming with him.

Before I speak to the other head, I shall
answer some objections that usually lie in
the way of those that in truth are coming
to Jesus Christ.

Objection 1. Though I cannot deny, but
my mind runs after Christ, and that too as
being moved thereto from a sight and con-
sideration of my lost condition, for I see
without him I perish, yet I fear my ends
are not right in coming to him.

Question. Why, what is tliine end in com-
ing to Christ ?

Answer. My end is, that I might have
life, and be saved by Jesus Christ.

This is the objection" ; well, let me tell
thee, that to come to Christ for life, and to
be saved, although at present thou hast no
other end, is a lawful and good coming to
Jeeus Christ. This is evident, because

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST- I59

Christ propoundeth life as the only argu-
ment to prevail with sinners to come to him,
and so also blameth them because they
come not to him lor life. " And ye will not
come to me that ye might have life," (John
V. 3.) Besides t]jere are many other
scriptures whereby he allureth sinners to
come to him, in which he propoundeth no-
thing to them but their safety. As, " He
that believeth in him shall not perish ;"
"he that believeth is passed from death to
life." " He that believeth shall be saved ;"
"he that believeth on him is not condemn-
ed." And believing and coming are all
one. So that you see to come to Christ
for life, is a lawful coming and good.

In that he believeth, that he alone hath
made atonement for sin. Rom. ii.

And let me add over and above, that for
a man to come to Christ for life, though he
come to him for nothing else but life, it is
to give much honor to him.

1st. He honoreth the word of Christ,
and consenteth to the truth of it ; and that
in these two general heads.

1. He consenteth to the truth of all those
sayings iJiat testify, that sin is most abomi-
nable in itself, dishonorable to God, and
damnable to the soul of man ; for thus
saith the man that cometh to Jesus Christ.
Jer. xhv. 4; Rom. ii. 23 j chap. vi. 23; 2
Thess. ii. 12.

2. In that he believeth, as the word hath
said, that there is in the world's best things,
righteousness and all, nothing but death
and damnation ; for so also says the man
that comes to Jesus Christ for life. Rom.
vii. 24, 25 ; chap. viii. 2, 3 ; 2 Cor. iii. 6, 7, 8.

2dly. He honoreth Christ's person, in that
he believeth that there is life in him, and
that he is able to save him from death, hell,
the devil, and damnation ; for unless a man
believes this, he will not come to Christ for
life. Heb. vii. 24, 25.

3dly. He honoreth him, in that he be-
lieveth that he is authorized of the Father
to give life to those that come to him for it.
John V. 11, 12; chap. xvii. 1, 2.

4thly. He honoreth the priesthood of
Jesus Christ.

1. In that he believeth that Christ- hath
more power to save from sin by the sacri-
fice that he hath offered for it, than hath all
law, devils, death, or sin, to condemn : He
that believes not this, will not come to Je-
sus Christ for life. Acts xiii. 33 ; Heb. ii.
14, 15; Rev. i. 17, 18.

2. In that he believeth that Christ ac-
cording to his office, will be most faithful
and merciful in the discharge of his office.

This must be included in the faith of him
that comes for lite to Jesus Christ. 1 John
ii. 1, 2, 3; Heb. ii. 17, 18.

^ othly.^ Further, He that cometh to Jesus
Christ tor life, taketh part with him against

sin, and against the ragged and imperfect
righteousness of the world! yea, and against
false Christs, and damnable errors, that set
themselves against the worthiness of his
merits and sufficiency. This is evident,
for that such a soul singleth Christ from
them all, as the only one that can save.

6thly. Therefore as Noah, at God's com-
mand, thou preparest this ark, for the sav-
ing of thyself, by which also thou condemn-
est the world, and art become heir of the
righteousness which is by faith, (Heb. xi.
7,) wherefore coming sinner be content ;
he that cometh to Jesus Christ believeth
too that he is Avilling to show mercy to, and
have compassion upon him (though un-
worthy) that comes to him for life. And
therefore thy soul lieth not only under a
special invitation to come, but under a
promise too of being accepted and forgiv-
en. -Matt. xi. 28.

All these particular parts and qualities of
faith, are in that soul that comes to Jesus
Christ for life, as is evident to any indiffer-
ent judgment.

For, will he that believeth not the testimo-
ny of Christ concerning the baseness of
sin, and the insufficiency of the righteousness
of the world, come to Christ for life? No.

He that believeth not the testimony of
the word comes not; he that believeth that
there is life any where else, comes not ; he
that questions whether the Father hath
given Christ power to forgive, comes not :
he that thinketh that there is more in sin,
in the law, in death, and the devil, to des-
troy, than there is in Christ to save, comes
not : he also that questions his faithful man-
agement of priesthood for the salvation of
sinners, comes not.

Thou, then, that art indeed the coming
sinner, believest thou this ? True, perhaps
thou dost not believe with that assurance,
nor hast thou leisure to take notice of thy
faith as to these distinct acts of it; but yet _
all this faith is in him coming to Christ foi*?
life. And the faith that thus worketh, is
the faith of the best and purest kind ; be-
cause this man comes alone as a sinner,
and as seeing that life is to be had only in
Jesus Christ.

Before I conclude my answer to this ob-
jection, take into thy consideration these
two things :

1st. That the cities of refuge were erect-
ed for those that were dead in the law, and
that yet would live by grace, even for those
that were to fly thither for life from the aveng-
er of blood that pursueth after them. And it
is worth your noting, that those that were
upon their flight thither, are in a peculiar
manner called the people of God. "Cast
ye up, cast ye up, (saith God,) prepare ye
the way ; take up the stumbling-block out
of the way of my people." lea. Ivii. 14.

160 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

This is meant of preparing the way to the
city of refuge, that the elayers might escape
thither ; wiiich flying slayers are here, by
way of speciality, called the people of God ;
even those of them that escaped thither for
life.

2dly. Consider that ol" Ahab, when Ben-
hadad sent to him for life, saying, " Thus
eaith thy servant Benhadad, I pray thee let
me live." Though Benhadad had sought
the crown, kingdom, yea, and also the life
of Ahab, yet how etfectually doth Benha-
dad prevail with him ! Is Benhadad yet
aUve ? saith Ahab, He is my brother ; yea,
" go ye, bring him to me : So he made him
ride in his chariot." 1 Kings xx.

Coming sinner, what tliinkest thou? If
Jesus Christ had as little goodness in him
as Ahab, he might grant an humble Ben-
hadad life ; thou neither begettest of him
his crown and dignity ; life, eternal life
will serve thy turn. How much more then
shalt thou have it, since thou hast to deal
with him who is goodness and mercy itself!
yea, since thou art also called upon, yea,
greatly encouraged by a promise of life,
to come unto him for lite ! Read also these
scriptures. Numb. xxxv. 11, 14, 15; Josh.
XX. 1—6.; Heb. vi. 16, 21.

Objection 2. When I say I only seek my-
self, 1 mean I do not find that I do design
God's glory in mine own salvation by
Christ, and that makes me fear I do not
come aright.

A)iswer. Where doth Christ Jesus require
such a qualification of those that are com-
ing to him for life ? Come thou for life,
and trouble not thy head with such objec-
tions against thyself; and let God and
Christ alone to glorify themselves in the
salvation of such a worm as thou art. The
Father saith to the Son, " Thou art my ser-
vant, O Israel, in whom I will be glorified."
God propoundeth life to sinners, as the ar-
gument to prevail with them to come to
'him for lile ; and Christ says plainly, " I
am come that ye might have life." John
xii. 10. He hath no need of thy designs,
though thou hast need of his eternal life,
pardon of sin, and deliverance from wrath
to come; Christ propounds these to thee.
and these be the things that thou hast need
of: besides, God will be gracious and mer-
ciful to worthless, undeserving wretches ;
come then as such an one, and lay no stum-
bling-block in the way to him, but come to
him Ibr lite, and live. John v. 34 ; chap.
X. 10 ; and chap. iii. 36; Matt. i. 21 ; Pro v.
viii. 36, 37 ; 1 Thes. xi ; John xi. 25, 26.

When the gaoler said, " Sirs, What must-I
do to be saved ?" Paul did not so much as
once ask him, what is your^nd in this ques-
tion ; do you design the glory of God in
the salvation of your soul ? He had more
wit: he knew that such qufptions as these

would have been but fools' baubles, about
instead of a sutficient salve to so weighty
a question "as this. Wherelbre, since this
poor wretch lacked salvation by Jesua
Christ, I mean to be saved from hell and
death, which he knew (now) was due to
him for the sins that he had committed, Paul
bids him, like a poor condemned simier as
he was, to proceed still in this his way of
self seeking, saying, "Believe on the Lord
Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved."
Acts xvi. 30, 31, 32. I know that after-
wards thou wilt desire to glorify Christ by
walking in the way of his precepts ; but at
present thou wantest life : the avenger of
blood is behind thee, and the devil like a
roaring lion is behind thee ; well, come
now, and obtain life from these ; and when
thou hast obtained some comfortable per-
suasion that thou art made partaker of life
by Christ, then, and not till then, thou wilt
say, " Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all
that is within me bless his holy name.
Bless the Lord, O my soul, and Ibrget not
all his benefits ; who forgiveth all thine
iniquities, and healeth all thy diseases ;
who redeemeth thy lile from destruction,
and crowneth thee with loving-kindness
and tender mercies." Ps. ciii. 1 — 6.

Objection 3. But I cannot believe that I am
come to Christ aright, because sometimes
I am apt to question his very being and of-
fice to save.

Thus to do is horrible ; but mayest thou
not judge amiss in this matter?

How can I judge amiss, when I judge as
I feel ? Poor soul 1 Thou mayest judge
amiss for all that. Why, saith the sinner,
I think that these questionings come I'rom
my heart.

Answer. Let me answer : That which
comes from thy heart, comes from thy will
and afi'ections, from thyunderstanding, judg-
ment, and conscience, for these must acqui-
esce in thy questioning, if thy questioning
be with thy heart. And how sayest thou,
(for to name no more,) dost thou with tlie
atlection and conscience thus question ?

Answer. No, my conscience trembles
when such thoughts come into my mind ;
and my affections are otherwise inclined.

Then I conclude, that these things are
either suddenly injected by the devil, or
else are the fruits of that body of sin and
death that yet dwells witliin tliee, or per-
haps from both together.

If they come wholly from the devil, as
they seem, because thy conscience and af-
fections are against them, or if they come
Irom that body of death that is in thee,
(and be not thou curious in inquiring from
which of them they come, the salest way is
to lay cjiough at thy own door,) nothing
of this .«liould liindcr thy coming, nor make
thee conclude thou comest not aright.

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 161

And before I leave thee, let me a little
query with thee about this matter.

1st. Dost thou like these wicked blasphe-
mies ?

Aiiswer. No, no; their presence and work-
ing kills me.

2dly. Dost thou mourn for them, pray
against them, and hate thyself because of
them?

A7iswer. Yes, yes ; but that which afflicts
me is, I do not prevail against them.

3dly. Dost thou sincerely choose (might-
est thou have thy choice) that thy heart
might be affected and taken with the things
that are best, most heavenly, and holy ?

A)isioer. With all my heart, and death
the next hour (if it were God's will,) rather
than thus to sin against him.

Well then, thy not liking of them, thy
mourning for them, thy praying against
them, and thy loathing thyself because of
them, with thy sincere choosing of those
thoughts for thy declaration that are heav-
enly and holy, clearly declares, that these
things are not countenanced either with
thy will, affections, understanding, judg-
ment, or conscience : and so, that thy heart
is not in them, but that rather they come
immediately from the devil, or arise from
the body of death that is in thy flesh, which
thou oughtest thus to say, " Now then it is
no more I that doth it, but sin that dwells
in me." Rom. vii. 16, 17.

I will give thee a pertinent instance : In
Deut. xxii. thou mayest read of a betroth-
ed damsel, one betrothed to her beloved,
one that had given him her heart and
mouth, as thou hast given thyself to Christ ;
yet she was met with as she walked in the
field, by one that forced her, because he
was stronger than she. Well, what judg-
ment now doth God, the righteous judge,
pass upon the damsel for this ? " The man
only that lay with her," saith God, " shall
die : But unto the damsel thou shalt do
nothing; there is in the damsel no sin
worthy of death. For, as when a man
rises against his neighbor, and slayeth him,
even so is this matter ; he found her in the
field, and the betrothed damsel cried, and
there was none to save her."

Thou art this damsel : The man that forc-
ed thee with these blasphemous thoughts,
is the devil ; and he lighteth upon thee in
a fit place, even in the fields as thou art
Avandering after Jesus Christ ; but thou
criest out, and by thy cry didst show, that
thou abhorrest such wicked lewdness. Well,
the Judge of all the earth will do right : he
will not lay the sin at thy door, but at his
that otfered the violence ; and for thy com-
fort take this into consideration, that he
" comes to heal them that were oppressed
of the devil."

Objection 4. But saith another, I am so

Vol. 3.— U.

heartless, so slow, and, as I think, so indif-
ferent in my coming, that, to speak the
truth, I know not whether my kind of com-
ing ought to be called a coming to Christ.

Answer. You know that I told you at
first, tliat coming to Christ is a moving of
the heart and affections towards him.

But, saith the soul, my dulness and indif-
ference in all holy duties, demonstrate my
heartlessnes in coming ; and to come, and
not with the heart, signifies nothing at all.

Atiswer. The moving of the heart after
Christ, is not to be discerned (at all times)
by thy sensible affectionate performance
of duties, but rather by those secret groan-
ings and complaints which thy soul makes
to God. against that sloth that attends thee
in duties.

2dly. But grant it be even as thou say-
est it is, that thou comest so slowly, &c.
yet since Christ bids them come that come
not at all, surely they may be accepted that
come, though attended with those infirmi-
ties, which thou at present groanest under.
He saith, " And him that cometh ;" he saith
not, If they come sensible, so fast ; but,
" And him that cometh to me, I will in no
wise cast out." He saith also in 9ih of
Proverbs,, " As for him that wanteth under-
standing," that is, a heart ; for oftentimes
the understanding is taken for the heart :
" Come eat of my bread, and drink of the
wine that I have mingled."

3dly. Thou mayest be vehement in thy
spirit in coming to Jesue Christ, and yet be
plagued with sensible sloth ; so was the
church, when she cried, " Draw me, we
run after thee ;" and Paul, when he said,
" When I would do good, evil is present
with me." The works, strugglings, and op-
positions of the flesh, are more manifest
than are the works of the Spirit in our
hearts, and so are sooner felt than they.
What then? Let us not be discouraged
at tlie sight and feeling of our own infirmi-
ties, but run the faster to Jesus Christ for
salvation.

ithly. Get thy heart warmed with the
sweet promise of Christ's acceptance of the
coming sinner, and that will make thee more
haste unto him. Discouraging thoughts,
they are like unto cold water, they benumb
the senses, and make us go ungainly about
our business ; but the sweet and warm
gleads of promise, are like the comfortable
beams of the sun, which enliveneth and re-
fresheth. You see how little the bee and
the fly do play in the air in winter ; why ?
the cold hinders them from doing it; but
when the wind and sun is warm, who is so
busy as they 1

bthly. But again, he that comes to Christ,
flies for his life. Now, there is no man that
flies for his life, that thinks he speeds fast
enough on his journey; no, could he, he

162 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

would willingly take a mile at a step. Oh
my sloth and heartlessness, sayest thou !
" Oh that I had wings like a dove, for tlien
would I flee away and be at rest I I would
hasten my escape from the windy storm
and tempest."

Poor coming soul, tliou art like the man
that would ride full gallop, whose horse
will hardly trot ! Now, the desire of his
mind is not to be judged of by the slow
pace of the dull jade he rides on, but by
the hitching, and kicking, and spurring, as
he sits on his back. Thy flesh is like this
dull jade, it will not gallop after Christ, it
will be backward, though thy soul and heav-
en lie at stake. But be of good comfort:
Christ judgeth not according to the fierce-
ness of outward motion, but according to
the sincerity o( the heart and inward parts.

Gthly. Ziba in appearance came to Da-
vid much faster than did Mephibosheth ;
but yet his heart was not so upright in him
to David as was his. It ia true, Mephibos-
heth had a check from David ; for said he,
" Why wentest thou not with me, Mephi-
bosheth ?" But when David came to re-
member that Mephibosheth was lame, (tor
tliat was his plea,) "thy servant is lame,"
he was content, and concluded, he would
have come after him faster than he did ;
and Mephibosheth appealed to David, who
was in those days an angel of God, to know
all things that are done in the earth, if he
did not believe that the reason of his back-
wardness lay in his lameness, and not in
his mind. Why, poor coming sinner, thou
can.st not come to Christ with that outward
swiftness of career as many others do ; but
doth the reason of thy backwardness lie in
thy mind and will, or in the sluggishness
of the flesh? canst thou say sincerely,
" The Spirit truly is willing, but the flesh
is weak ?" Yea, canst thou appeal to the
Lord Jesus, who knoweth perfectly the very
inmost thought of thy heart, that this is
true ? Then take this for thy comfort, he
hath said, " I will assemble her that halt
eth, I will make her that halteth a rem-
nant, and I will save her that halteth."
What canst tliou have more from the sweet
hps of the Son of God? But,

Ithhj. I read of some that are to follow
Christ in chains ; I say to come after liim in
chains ; " Thus saith the Lord, tiie labor of
Egypt, and the merchandize of Ethiopia, and
the Sabeans, men of stature, shall come over
unto thoe, and they shall be thine ; they .shall
come alter thee ; In chains shall they come
over, and they shall fall down unto thee:
They shrdl make supplication unto thee say-
ing. Surely there is none else to save." Isa.
xl. 14. Surely they that come after Christ
in chains, come to him in great difhculty, be-
cause their steps by the chains are straitened.

And what chain so heavy, as those that

discourage thee'? Thy chain, which is
made of guilt and filth, is heavy ; it is a
wretched band about tliy neck, by which
thy strength doth fail. Lam. i. 14 ; iii. 17.
But come, though thovi comest in chains ; it
is glory to Christ that a sinner come after
him in chains. The chinking of thy chains,
though troublesome to thee, arc not, nor can
be obstruction to thy salvation ; it is Christ's
work and glory to save thee from thy chains,
to enlarge ihy steps, and set thee at liberty.
The blind man, though called, surely could
not come apace to Jesus Christ, but Christ
could stand still, and stay for him. True,
•' He rideth upon the wings of the wind j"
butyethe islong-sufl'ering and his long-suf-
fering is salvation to him that cometh to him.

Sthly. Hadst thou seen those that came
to the Lord Jesus in tlie days of his flesh,
how slowly, how hobblingly, they came to
him, by reason of their infirmities ; and al-
so how friendly, and kindly, and gracious-
ly, he received them, and gave them the
desire of their hearts, thou wouldst not, as
thou dost, make such objections against
thyself, in thy coming to Jesus Christ.

Objection 5. But (says another) I fear I
come too late ; I doubt I have staid too
long; I am afraid the door is shut.

Answei\ Thou canst never come too late
to Jesus Christ, if thou dost come. This is
manifest by two instances.

1st. By the man that came to him at the
eleventh hour. This man was idle all the
day long ; he had a whole gospel-day to
come in, and he played it all away save
only the last hour thereof; but at last, at
the eleventh hour, he came, and went into
the vineyard to work ivith the rest of his
laborers, that had borne the burden and
heat of the day. Well, but how was he
received by the lord of the vineyard ?
Why, when pay-day came, he had even as
much as the rest ; yea, had money first.
True, the others murmured at him ; but
what did the Lord Jesus answer them?
" Is thine eye evil because mine is good ?
I will give unto this last even as unto7hee."

2dhj. The other instance is, the thief upon
the cross ; he came late also, even as at an
hour before his death ; yea, he strayed from
Jesus Christ as long as he had liberty to be
a thief, and longer too ; for could he have
deluded the judge, and by lying words es-
caped his just condemnation, for ought I
know, he had not come as yet to his Sa-
viour : but being convicted, and condemned
to die, yea, tastened to the cross, that he
might die like a rogue, as he was in his
Ji(e ; behold the Lord Jesus, when this
wicked one, even now, desireth mercy at
his hands, tells him, and that without the
least reflection upon him, for his former
misspent life, '• To-day thou shalt be with
me in paradise."

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 163

Let no man turn the grace of God into
wantonness. My design is now to encour-
age the coming soul.

Objection. But is not the door ol" mercy
shut against some betbre they die?

Answer. Yea ; and God forbids that

Jrayers should be made to him for them,
er vii. 16 ; Jude 22.

Question. Then why may not I doubt
that I may be one of these '?

Answer. By no means, if thou art com-
ing to Jesus Christ ; because when God
shuts the door upon men, he gives them no
heart to come to Jesus Christ. " None
come but those to whom it is given of the
Father." But thou comest; therefore it is
given to thee of the Father.

Be sure, therefore, if the Father hath
given thee a heart to come to Jesus Christ,
the gate of mercy yet stands open to thee^
for it stands not with the wisdom of God
" to give strengtli to come to the birth, and
yet to shut up the womb," (Isa. Ixvi. 9,) to
give grace to come to Jesus Christ, and yet
shut up the door of his mercy upon thee.
" Incline thine ear," saith he, " and come
unto me. Hear, and your souls shall live,
and I will make an everlasting covenant
with you, even the sure mercies of David."
Isa. Iv. 3.

Objection. But it is said, that some
knocked when the door was shut 7

Answer. Yes ; but the texts in which
these knockers are mentioned, are to be re-
ferred unto the day of judgment, and not
to the coming of the sinner to Christ in this
life. See the texts, Matt. xxv. 11; Luke
xiii. 24, 25.

These, therefore, concern thee nothing
at all : thou art coming to Jesus Christ ;
thou art coming now! " Now is the accep-
table time, behold now is the day of salva-
tion." 2 Cor. vi. 2. Now God is upon the
mercy-seat; now Christ Jesus sits by, con-
tinually pleading the victory of his blood
for sinners ; and now, even as long as this
world lasts, this word of the text shall still
be free, and fully fulfilled ; " And him that
comeih to me, I will in no wise cast out."

Sinner, the greater sinner thou art, the
greater need of mercy thou hast, and the
more will Christ be glorified thereby ; Come
then, come and try; Come taste and see
how good the Lord is to an undeserving
sinner.

Objection 6. But (says another) I am
fallen since I began to come to Christ;
therefore I fear I did not come aright, and
so, consequently, that Christ will not receive
me.

Answer. Falls are dangerous ; for they
dishonor Christ, wound the conscience, and
cause the enemies of God to speak reproach-
fully. But it is no good argument, I am
IkllDn, therefore I was not coming aright to

Jesus Christ. If David, and Solomon, and
Peter, had thus objected against themselves,
they had added to their griefs ; and yet
they had at least as much cause as thou.
A man whose steps are ordered by the
Lord, and whose goings the Lord delights
in, may yet be overtaken with a temptation
that may cause him to fall. Ps. xxxvii. 23,
24, Did not Aaron fall ? yea, and Moses
himself? What shall we say of Hezekiah
and Jehoshaphat? There are therefore
falls and falls ; falls pardonable, and falls
unpardonable. Falls unpardonable, are
falls against Ught, from the iaith to the de-
spising of, and trampling upon Jesus Christ
and his blessed undertaking. Heb. vi. 2 —
5 ; chap. x. 28, 29. Now as for such, there
remains no more sacrifice for sin ; indeed
they have no heart, no mind, no desire to
come to Jesus Christ for life, therefore, they
must perish. Nay, says the Holy Ghost,
" It is impossible they should be renewed
again unto repentance." Therefore, these
God hath no compassion for, neither ought
we ; but for other falls, though they be
dreadful, (and God will chastise his people
for them,) they do not prove thee a grace-
less man, one not come to Jesus Christ for
hfe.

It is said of the child in the gospel, that
" while he was yet a coming, the devil
threw him down and tore him."

Dejected sinner, it is no wonder that thou
hast caught a fall in coming to Jesus Christ;
is it not rather to be wondered at, that thou
hast not caught before this, a thousand
times, a thousand falls? considering,

\st. What fools we are by nature.

2dly. What weaknesses are in us.

'Mly. What mighty powers the fallen an-
gels, our implacable enemies are.

ithlij. Considering also how often the
coming man is benighted in his journey ;
and also what stumbling-blocks do lie in his
way.

bthly. Also his familiars (that were so
before) now watch for his halting, and seek
by what means they may cause him to fall
by the hand of their strong ones.

What then ? Must we, because of these
temptations, incline to fall? No. Must we
not fear falls ? Yes. " Let him that think-
eth he standeth take heed lest he fall." 1
Cor. X. 12. Yet let him not utterly be cast
down, " The Lord upholdeth all that fall,
and raiseth up those that are bowed down."
Make not light of falls ; yet hast thou fall-
en ? " Ye have," said Samuel, " done all
this wickedness ; yet turn not aside from
following the Lord, but serve him with a
perfect heart, and turn not aside ; for the
Lord will not forsake his people," (and he
counted the coming sinner one of them,)
'■ because it hath pleased the Lord to make
you his people."

164 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

" Shall come to me." Now we come to
show what force there is in this promise to
make them come to him. " All that the
Father giveth me, shall come to me."

I will speak to this promise :

First, In general.

Secondly, In particular.

In general. — This word shalL is confined
to these, all, that are given to Christ; "All
that the Father giveth me shall come to
me." Hence I conclude,

1. That coming to Jesus Christ aright, is
an effect of their being, of God, given to
Christ before ; Mark ! they shall come :
Who 1 those that are given. They come
then, because they were given: " Thine
they were, and thou gavest them me."
Now, tliis is indeed a singular comfort to
them that are a coming in truth to Christ,
to think that the reason why they come, is,
because they were given of the Father be-
fore to him. Thus, then, may the coniing
soul reason with himself as he comes : Am
I coming indeed to Jesus Christ? This
coming of mine is not to be attributed to
me or my goodness, but to the grace and
gift of God to Christ. God gave first my
person to him, and therefore hath now
given me a heart to come.

2. This word, shall come, maketh thy
coming, not only the fruit of the gift of the
Father, but also of the purpose of the Son ;
for these words are a divine purpose ; they
show us the heavenly determination of the
Son. " The Father hath given them to
me, and" they shall ; yea, they shall " come
to me." Christ is as fully in his resolution
to save those given to him, as is the Father
in giving of them. Christ prized the gift
of his Father, he will lose nothing oi it ; he
is resolved to save it every whit by his
blood, and to raise it up again at the last
day ; and thus he fulfils his Father's will,
and accomplisheih his own desires.

3. These words, shall come, make thy
coming to be also the effect of an absolute
promise ; coming sinner, thou art concluded
in a promise ; thy coming is the fruit of
the faithfulness of an absolute promise
It was this promise by the virtue of which
thou at first receivedst strength to come ;
and this is the promise, by the virtue of
which thou shalt be effectually brought to
him. It was said to Abraham, " At this
time I will come, and Sarah shall have a
eon." This son was Isaac. Mark ! Sarah
shall have a son ; there is the promise •, and
Sarah had a son ; there was the fulfilling
of the promise ; and therefore was Isaac
called the child of the promise.

Sarah shall have a son : But how if Sa-
rah be past age ? Why still the promise
continues to say, Sarah shall have a son.
But how if Sarah be barren ! Why still
the promise says, Sarah shall have a son.

But Abraham's body is now dead ! Wliy
the promise is still the same, Sarah shall
have a son. Thus you see what virtue
there is in an absolute promise ; it carrieth
enough in its own bowels to accomplish the
thing promised, whether there be means or
no in us to effect it. Wherefore this prom-
ise in the text, being an absolute promise,
by virtue of it. not by virtue of ourselves,
or by our own inducements, do we come to
Jesus Christ ; for so are the words of the
text ; " All that the Father giveth me shall
come to me."

Therefore is every sincere comer to Jesus
Christ called also a child of the promise.
" Now we, brethren, as Isaac was, are the
children of the promise ;" that is, we are
the children that God hath promised to Je-
sus Christ, and given to him ; yea, the
children that Jesus Christ hath promised
shall come to him. " All that the Father
giveih me shall come."

4. This word, shall come, engageth Christ
to communicate all manner of grace to
those thus given him to make them effectu-
ally come to him. They shall cmne ; that
is, not if they will, but u grace, all grace,
if power, wisdom, a new heart, and the
Holy Spirit, and all joining together, can
make them come. I say this word, shall
come, being absolute, hath no dependence
upon our own will or power, or goodness;
but it engageth for us even God himself,
Christ himself, the Spirit himself When
God had made the absolute promise to
Abraham, That Sarah shonld have a son,
Abraham did not at all look at any qualifi-
cations in himseli; because tlie promise
looked at none ; but as God had by the
promise absolutely promised him a son ; so
he considered now not his own body now
dead, nor yet the barrenness of Sarah's
womb. " He staggered not at the promise
of God through unbelief, but was strong in
faith giving glory to God, being fully per-
suaded that what he had promised he was
able to perform." He had promised, and
promised absolutely, Sarah shall have a
son : therefore, Abraham looks that he, to
wit, God, must fulfil the condition of it.
Neither is this expectation of Abraham dis-
approved by the Holy Ghost, but accounted
good and laudable ; it being that by which
he gives glory to God. The Father also
hath given to Christ a certain number of
souls for him to save ; and he liimself hath
said, " They shall come to him." Let the
church of God then live in a joyful expec-
tation of the utmost accomplishment of this
promise ; for assuredly it shall be fulfilled,
and not one thousandth part of a tittle
thereof shall fail. They shall come to me.

And now, before I go any farther, I will
more particularly inquire into the nature of
an absolute promise.

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 1G5

1. We call that an absolute promise that
is made without any condition ; or more
fully thus : That is an absolute promise ol'
God, or of Christ, which maketh over to
this or that man any saving spiritual bless-
ing, without a condition to be done on our
part for the obtaining thereof. And this
we have in hand is such a one. Let the
best master of arts on earth show me, if he
can, any condition in this text depending
upon any qviahfication in us, which is not
by the same promise concluded, shall be by
the Lord Jesus effected in us.

2. An absolute promise therefore is, as
we say, without if or and ; that is, it requir-
eth nothing of us, that itself may be accom-
plished. It saith not, they shall, if they
will ; but they shall : not they shall, if they
use the means ; but, they shall. You may
say, that a will, and the use of the means,
is supposed, though not expressed. But I
answer. No, by no means ; that is, as a
condition of this promise : if they be at all
included in the promise, they are included
there as the fruit of the absolute promise ;
not as if it expected the qualification to
arise from us. " Thy people shall be" will-
ing " in the day of thy power." Ps. ex. 3.
That is another absolute promise ; but doth
that promise suppose a willingness in us,
as a condition of God's making us willing?
They shall be willing, if they are willing ;
or, they shall be willing, if they will be
willing. This is ridiculous ; there is noth-
ing of this supposed. The promise is abso-
lute as to us : all that it engageth for its

and will, when the time of that promise is
come, yield to us mortals that which will
verily save us ; yea, and make us capable
of answering of the demands of the prom-
ise that is conditional. Wherefore, though
there be a real, yea, an eternal difference
in these things (with others) betwixt the
conditional and the absolute promise ; yet
again, in other respects, there is a blessed
harmony betwixt them ; as may be seen in
these particulars.

1. The conditional promise calls for re-
pentance, the absolute promise gives it
Acts v. 30, 31.

2. The conditional promise calls for faith,
the absolute promise gives it. Zeph. iii.
12 ; Rom. xv. 12.

3. The conditional promise calleth for a
new heart, the absolute promise gives it
Ezek. xxxvi.

4. The conditional promise calleth for
holy obedience, the absolute promise giveth
it, or causeth it. Ezek. xxxvi. 27.

And as they harmoniously agree in this,
so again the conditional promise blesseth
the man who by the absolute promise is
endued with its fruits : as for instance,

1. The absolute promise maketh men up-
right; and then the conditional follows,
saying, "Blessed are the undefiled in the
way, who walk in the way of the Lord.
Ps. cxix. 1.

2. The absolute promise giveth to this
man the fear of the Lord ; and then the
conditional followeth, saying, ''Blessed is
every one that feareth the Lord." Ps.

own accomplishment is, the mighty power icxviii. 1.

of Christ, and his faithfulness to accomplish. ■ 3. The absolute promise giveth faith,

The difference therefore betwixt the ab- and then this conditional follows, saving,

solute and conditional promise is this : '• Blessed is he that believeth." Zeph. iii.

1. They differ in their terms. The abso- 12 ; Luke i. 45.

lute promises say, I will, and you shall : the 4. The absolute promise brings free for-
other, I will if you will ; or, do this, and giveness of sins ; and then says the condi-
thou shalt live. Jer. xxxi. 32, 34 ; Ezek. tional, " Blessed are they whose transgres-
xxxiv. 24 — 34; Heb. viii. 7 — 12; Jer. iv. 1; sions are forgiven, and whose sin is cover-
Ezek. xviii. 30, 31, 32 ; Matt xix. 21. ed." Rom. iv. 7, 8.

2. They differ in their way of communi- 5. The absolute promise says. That
eating of good things to men : the absolute God's elect should hold out to the end ;
ones communicate things freely, only of then the conditional follows with his bless-
grace; the other, if there be that qualifica- ings, "He that shall endure to the end, the
tion in us, that the promise calls for, not else, same shall be saved." 1 Pet i. 4, 5, 7 ;

3. The absolute promises therefore en- Matt xxiv.

Thus do the promises gloriously serve
one another and us, in this their harmoni-
ous agreement.

Now the promise under consideration is

gage God, the other engage us; I mean
God only, us only.

4. Absolute promises must be fulfilled;
conditional may, or may not be fulfilled.

The absolute ones must be fulfilled, because i an absolute promise ; " All that the Father
of the faithfulness of God ; the other may giveth me, shall come to me."

not, because of the unfaithfulness of men. This promise therefore, is, as it is said, a

5. The absolute promises have therefore big-bellied promise, and hath in itself all
a sufficiency in themselves to bring about [those things to bestow upon us that the
their own fulfilling ; the conditional have conditional calleth for at our hands. They
not so. The absolute promise is therefore shall come ! Shall they come ? Yes, they
a big-bellied promise, because it hath in it- shall come ! But how, if they want those
Bclf a fulness of all desired things for us ; '■ things, those graces, power, and heart,

166 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

without which they cannot come? Why,
" Shall come" anewereth all this, and all
things else that may in thi.s miitu-r be ob-
jected. And here I will take the liberty to
amplify things. -^

Objection 1. But they are dead, dead in
trespasses and sins ; how shall they then
come ?

Aiistcer. Why, " Shall come" can raise
them from this death : " The hour is com-
ing, and now is, that the dead shall hear
the voice of the Son of God, and they that
hear shall hve." Thus, therefore, is this
impediment by " Shall come" removed out
of the way. They shall hear, they shall live.

Objection 2. But they are Satan's cap-
tives ; he takes them captive at his will,
and he is stronger than they : how then can
they come?

^4/i.su'e7'. Why, " Shall come" hath also
provided a help for this. Satan hath bound
that daughter of Abraham so, that she
could by no means lift up herself; but yet
" Shall come" .set her free both in body and
soul. Christ will have them turned from
the power of Satan to God. But what !
Must it Ijije, if they turn themselves, or do
somewhat to merit of him to turn them ?
No, he will do it freely, of his own good
will. Alas ! man, whose soul is possessed
by the devil, is turned whithersoever that
governor listeth, is taken captive by him,
notwithstanding its natural powers, at his
will ; but what will he do ? Will he hold
him v/hcn "Shall come" puts forth itself
(will he then let him) for coming to Jesus
Christ ? No, that cannot be ! His power
is but the power of a fallen angel, but
'• Shall come" is the word of God; therefore
" Shall come" must be fulfilled ; " and the
gates of hell shall not prevail against him."

There were seven devils in Mary Mag-
dalen, too many ibr her to get from under
the power of; but wlien the time was come,
that " Shall come" was to be fulfilled upon
her, they give place, fly from her, and she
comes, indeed, to Jesus Christ, according
as it is written : " All that the Father giv-
eth me, shall come to me."

The man that Avas possessed with a le-
gion, (Mark v.) was too much by them
captivated, for him by human force to come ;
yea, had he had, to boot, all the men under
heaven to help him, had he who said, " He
shall come," withheld his mighty power :
but when this promise was to be fulfilled
upon him, then he comes; nor could all
their power hinder his coming. It was also
this (" Shall come") that preserved him
from death ; when by these evil spirits he
was hurled hither and thither ; and it was
by the virtue of " Siiall come" that he was
at last set at liberty from them and enabled
indeed to come to Christ. " All that the
Father giveth me shall come to me."

Objection 3. They shall, you say; but
how if they will not : and if so, then what
can " Shall come" do ?

Ans^cer. True, there are some men who
say, " We are lords, we will come no more
under thee." Jer. ii. 31. But as God says
in another case, (if they are concerned in
"Shall come" to me,) " They shall know
whose words shall stand, mine or theirs."
Jer xliv. 28. Here then is the case, we
must now see who will be the liar ; he that
saith, I will not ; or he that saith, he shall
come to me. You shall come, says God ; I
will not come, saith the sinner. Now as
sure as he is concerned in this " Shall
come," God will make that man eat his own
words ; for I will not, is the unadvised con-
clusion of a crazy-headed sinner ; but
" Shall come" was spoken by him that is of
power to perform his word. " Son, go work
to-day in my vineyard," said the Fatlier :
but he answered and said, I will not come.
What now 1 will he be able to stand to his
refusal 7 will he pursue his desperate deni-
al 7 No, "he afterwards repented and
went." But how came he by that repent-
ance ? Why, it was wrapped up for him
in the absolute promise ; and therefore not-
withstanding he said, I will not, "he after-
wards repented and went." By this para-
ble, Jesus Christ sets forth the obstinacy of
the sinners of the world, as touching their
coming to him ; they wilt not come, though
threatened ; yea, though life be offered
them upon condition of coming.

But now, when " Shall come," the abso-
lute promise of God, comes to be fulfilled
upon them, then they come ; because by
that promise, a cure is provided against the
rebellion of their will : " Thy people shall
be willing in the day of thy power." Thy
people, what people ! Why, the people
that the Father hath given thee. The
obstinacy and plague that is in the will of
that people, sjiall be taken away: and they
shall be made willing; "shall come" will
make them willing to come to thee.

He that had seen Paul in the midst of
his outrages against Christ, his gospel, and
people, would hardly have thought that he
would ever have been a follower of Jesus
Christ, especially since he went not against
his conscience in his persecuting of them.
He thought verily that he ought to do what
he did. But we may see what Shall come
can do, when it comes to be fulfilled upon
the soul of a rebellious sinner ; he was a
chosen vessel, given by the Father to the
Son ; and now the time being come that
Shall com e was to take him in hand, behold
he is overmastered, astonished, and with
trembling and reverence, in a moment be-
comes willing to be obedient to the heaven-
ly call. Acts ix.

And were not they far gone (that you

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. {QJ

read of, Acts ii.) who had their hands and
hearts in the murder of the Son of God :
and to show their resolvedness never to re-
pent of that horrid lact, said, " His blood
be on us and our children." But must their
obstinacy rule? Must they be bound to
their own ruin, by the rebellion of their
stubborn wills ? No, not those of these the
Father gave to Christ; wherefore, at the
times appointed, Shall come breaks in
among them : the absolute promise takes
them in hand ; and then they come indeed,
crying out to Peter and the rest of the
apostles, "Men and brethren, what shall
we do?" No stubbornness of men's will
can stand, when God hath absolutely said
the contrary; Shall come can make them
come as doves to their windows, that had
afore resolved never to come to him.

The Lord spake unto Manasseh, and to
his people, by the prophets ; but would he
hear ? No, he would not. But shall Ma-
nasseh come otf thus ? No, he shall not
Therefore he being also one of those whom
the Father hath given to the Son, and so
falling within the bounds and reach of Shall
come ; at last Shall came takes him in hand
and then he comes indeed. He comes
bowing and bending ; he humbles himself
greatly, and made supplication to the Lord,
and prayed unto him ; and he was entreat
ed of him, and had mercy upon him. 2
Chron. iii, 33.

The thief upon the cross, at first, did rail
with his fellow upon Jesus Christ; but he
was one that the Father had given to him,
and therefore Shall come must handle him
and his rebellious will. And behold, so
soon as he is dealt withal, by virtue of that
absolute promise, how soon he buckleth,
leaves his railing, and falls to supplicating
of the Son of God for mercy ; " Lord,"
saith he, " remember me when thou comest
into thy kingdom." Matt, xxvii. 44. Luke
xxiii. 40.

Objection 4. They come, say you; but
liow if they be blind and see not the way 1
For some are kept oiT from Christ, not only
by the obstinacy of their will, but by the
blindness of their mind : Now, if they be
blind, how shall they come ?

Ansicer. The question is not, Are they
blind"? But are they within the reach and
power of Shall come? if so, that Christ
that said, they shall come, will find them
eyes, or a guide, or both, to bring them to
himself Must, is for the King. If they
shall come, they shall come : no impedi-
ment shall hinder.

The Thessaloaians' darkness did not hin-
der them from being the children of light;
" I am come," saith Christ, '■ that they see not
might see." And if he saitii, " See ye bUnd
that have no eyes;" Who t^hall hinder it?

This promise therefore is, as I said, a

big-bellied promise, having in the bowels
of it, all things that shall occur to the com-
plete fulfilling of itself They shall come.
But it is objected, that they are blind : Well,
Shall come is still the same, and continueth
to say. They shall come to me. Therefore
he saith again, " I will bring the blind by a
way that they know not. I will lead them
in paths that they know not. I will make
darkness light before them, and crooked
things straight ; these things will I do unto
them, and not forsake them."

Mark ! I will bring them, though they be
blind; I will bring them by a way they
know not , I will, I will : and therefore they
shall come to me.

Objection 5. But how, if they have
exceeded many in sin, and so made them-
selves far more abominable ? They are the
ring-leading sinners in the country, the
town, or family.

Answer. What then ? Shall that hinder
the execvition of Shall come? It is not
transgressions, nor sins, nor all their trans-
gression in all their sins, if they by the
Father are given to Christ to save them,
that shall hinder this promise, that it should
not be fulfilled upon them. " In those days,
and at that time," saith the Lord, " the
iniquities of Israel shall be sought for, and
there shall be none ; and the sins of Judah,
and they shall not be found." Not that
they had none, for they abounded in trans-
gression ; but God would pardon, cover,
hide, and put them away, by virtue of his
absolute promise, by which they are given
to Christ to save them. " And I will cleanse
them from all their iniquity, whereby they
have transgressed against me. And it
shall be to me for a name of joy, a praise,
and an honor before all the nations of the
earth, which shall hear of all the good I do
unto them ; and they shall fear and tremble
for all the goodness and all the prosperity
that I procure in it."

Objection 6. But how if they have not
faith and repentance ? How shall they
come then ?

Ansiver. Why, he that saith, They shall
come, shall he not make it good ? If they
shall come, they shall come ; and he that
hath said they shall come, if faith and re-
pentance be the way to come, as indeed
they are, then faith and repentance shall be
given to them ; for shall come must be ful-
filled on them.

1. Faith shall be given them : " I will
also leave in the midst of thee an alllicted
and poor people, and they shall trust in the
name of the Lord. There shall be a root
of Jesse, and he shall rise to reign over the
Gentiles ; and in him shall the Gentiles
trust."

2. They shall have repentance : He is
exalted to give repentance : " They shall

16g COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

come weeping, and seeking the Lord their
God." And again, " witli weeping and
supplication will I lead them."

I told you before that an absolute prom-
ise hath all conditional ones in the belly of
it, and also provision to answer all tliosc
qualifications, that iJicy propound to him
that seeketh for their benefit : And it must
be so: for if S/uill come be an absolute
promise, as indeed it is, then it must be ful-
filled, upon every one of those concerned
therein. 1 say, it must be fulfilled, if God
can by grace, and his absolute will, fulfil it.
Besides, since coming and believing is all
one, " He that cometh to me shall never
hunger, and he that believeth in me shall
never thirst."

Then when he saith, they Shall come, it
is as much as to say, they shall believe, and
consequently repent to the saving of the
soul. So then the present want of faith
and repentance cannot make the promise
of God of none effect; because that this
promise hath in it to give, what others call
for and expect I will give them an heart,
I will give them repentance, I will give
them faith.

Mark these words ; " If any man be in
Christ, he is a new creature." But how
came he to be a new creature, since none
can create but God? Why, God indeed
doth make new creatures. " Behold," saith
he, " I make all things new." And hence
it follows even after he had said, they are
new creatures ; and all things are of God ;
that is all these new creatures stand in the
several operations, and special workings of
the Spirit of grace, who is God.

Objection 7. But how shall they escape
all those dangerous and damnable opinions,
that like rocks and quicksands are in the
way in which they are going.

Answer. Indeed tliis age is an age of
errors, if ever there was an age of errors in
the world ; but yet the gift of the Father,
laid claim to by the Son in the text, must
needs escape them, and in conclusion come
to him. There are a company of shall
Coynes in the Bible, that doth secure them ;
not but that they may be assaulted by them ;
yea, and also for the time entangled and
detained by them from the bisiiop of their
souls ; but these shall comes will break
those chains and fetters, that those given
to Christ are entangled in, and lliey shall
come, because he hath said they shall come
to him.

Indeed, errors are like that whore of
whom you read in the Proverbs, that sitteth
in her seat in the high places of the city,
" to call passengers who go on their right
way." But the persons, as I said, that by
the Father are given to the Son to save
them, are fit one time or other, .secured by
shall come lo me.

And therefore, of such it is said, God
will guide them with his eye, with his coun-
sel, by his Spirit, and that in the way of
peace, by the springs of water, and into all
truth. So then he that hath such a guide,
(and all that the Father give to Christ shall
liave it) he shall escape those dangers ; he
shall not err in the way ; yea, though he be
a fool he shall not err therein ; for of every
such an one it is said, " Thine ears shall
hear a word behind thee, saying. This ia
the way, walk in it, when ye turn to the
right hand, and when ye turn to the left."

There were thieves and robbers before
Christ's corning, as there are also now ; but
saith he, " The sheep did not hear them."

And why did they not hear them, but be-
cause they were under the fower of shall
come, that absolute promise, that had that
grace in itself to bestow upon them, as
could make them able rightly to distinguish
of voices ; " My sheep hear my voice."
But how came they to hear it? Why, to
them it is given to knov/ and to hear, and
that distinguishingly. John x. 8, 16 ; chap.
V. 25; Eph. V. U.

Further, The very plain sentence of the
text makes provision against all these
things ; for, saith it, " All that the Father
giveth me, shall come to me ;" that is, shall
not be stopped, or be allured to take up any
where short of me, nor shall they turn aside,
to abide with any besides me.

Shall come to me — To me. By these
words there is further insinuated, though
not expressed, a double cause for their com-
ing to him.

1. There is in Christ a fulness of all-
sufficiency of that, even of all that which
is needful to make us happy.

2. Those that indeed come to him, do
therefore come to him tliat tliey may receive
it at his hand.

For the first of these, there is in Christ a
fulness of all-sufficiency of all that, even of
all that which is needful to make us happy.
Hence it is said, " For it pleased the Father
that in him should all fulness dwell." And
again, " Of his fulness, all we have receiv-
ed, and grace for grace." Col. i. 19; John
i. 16. It is also said of him, that his riches
are unsearchable, " the unsearchable riches
of Christ." Ej^ih. iii. 8. Hear what he
saith of himself, " Riches and honor are
with me. even durable riches and righte-
ou.?ness ; My fruit is better than gold, yea,
than fine gold, and my revenue than choice
silver: I lead in the way of righteousness,
in the midst of the paths of judgment, that
I may cause tiiem that love me to inherit
substance. And I will fill their treasures.
Prov. xviii. 19—21.

This in general : But, more particularly,

1. There is that light in Christ that is

sufficient to lead them out ofj and from all

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 169

that darkness, in the midst of which all
others, but them that come to him, stumble,
and fall, and perish ; " I am the light of the
world," saith he ; " he that foUoweth me,
shall not abide in darkness, but shall have
the hght of life." Man by nature is in
darkness, and walketh in darkness, and
knows not whither he goes, tor darkness
hath blinded his eyes ; neither can any thing
but Jesus Christ lead men out of this dark-
ness. Natural conscience cannot do it :
This prerogative belongs only to Jesus
Christ.

2. There is life in Christ, that is to be
found no where else : life, as a principle in
the soul, by which it shall be acted and en-
abled to do that which, through him, is
pleasing to God. "He that believeth in
(or Cometh to) me," saith he, as the scrip-
tures have said, " out of his belly shall flow
rivers of living water." Without this life a
man is dead, whether he be bad, or whether
he be good ; that is, good in his own and
other men's esteem. There is no true and
eternal life, but what is in the Me that
speaketh in the text.

There is also life for those that come to
him, to be had by faith in his flesh and
blood. " He tliat eateth me, shall live by
me."

And this is a life against that death that
comes by the guilt of sin, and the curse of
the law, under which all men are, and for
ever must be, unless they eat Me, that
speaks in the text. " Whoso findeth me,"
saith he, " findeth life ;" deliverance from
the everlasting death and destruction, that,
without me, he shall be devoured by.

Nothing is more desirable than life, to
him that hath in himself the sentence of
condemnation ; and here only is life to be
found. This life, to wit, eternal life, this
life is in his Son ; that is, in him that saith
in the text, " All that the Father hath given
me, shall come to me."

3. The person speaking in the text, is he
nlone by whom poor sinners have admittance
to, and acceptance with the Father, because
of the glory of his righteousness, by and in
which he presenteth them, amiable and
spotless in his sight ; neither is there any
way besides him, so to come to the Father.
" I am the way," saith he, " the truth, and
the life ; no man cometh to tlie Father, but
hy me." All other ways to God are dead
and damnable ; the destroying cherubims
stand with flaming swords, turning every
way tn keep all others from his presence.
1 say, all others but them that come by
him.

" I am the door ; by me," saith he, " if
any man shall enter in, he shall be saved."

The person speaking in the text, is he,
and only he, that can give stable and ever-
lasting peace; therefore, saith he, "My

Vol. 3. — V.

peace I give unto you." My peace, which
is a peace with God, peace of conscience,
and that of an everlasting duration. My
peace, peace that cannot be matched, '• not
as the world giveth, give I unto you ;" for
the world's peace is but carnal and transi-
tory, but mine is divine and eternal. Hence
it is called the peace of God, that passeth
all understanding.

4. The person speaking m the text, hath
enough of all things truly spiritually good,
to satisfy the desire of every longing soul.
'' And Jesus stood and cried, saying, if any
man thirst, let him come to me and drink.
And to him that is athirst, I will give of
the fountain of the water of life freely."

5. With the person speaking in the text
is power to perfect, and defend, and deliver
those that come to him for safe-guard.
"All power," saith he, ^'■ia heaven and
earth are given unto me."

Thus might I multiply instances in this
nature in abundance. But,

Secondly, They that in truth do come to
liim, do therefore come to him thai they
may receive it at his hand. They come
for light, they come for life, they come for
reconciliation with God; they also come
for peace, they come that tlueir souJs may
be satisfied witJi spiritual good, and tliat
they may be protected by him against all
spiritual and eternal damnation; and he
alone is able to give them all this, to the ful-
filling of their joy to the lull, as they also
find when they come to him.

This is evident,

1. From the plain declaration of those
that already are come to him. " Being
justified by taith, we have peace with God,
through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom
also we have access with boldness into this
grace, wherein we stand, and rejoice in
hope of the glory of God."

2. It is evident also, in that while they
keep their eyes upon him, they never de-
sire to change him for another, or to add to
themselves some other thing, together with
him, to make up their spiritual joy. " God
forbid," said Paul, " that I should glory,
save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Yea, and I count ail things but loss for the
excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus
my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss
of all things, and do count them but dung,
that I may win Christ, and be found in
him : not having mine own righteousness,
which is of the law, but that which is through
the faith of Christ, the righteousness which
is of God by faith."

3. It is evident also by their earnest de-
sires that others might be made partakers
of their blessedness. "Brethren," said Paul,
" my heart's desire and prayer to God for
Israel, is, that they might be saved ;" that
is, that way that he expected to be saved

170 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRISf.

himself; fts he saith also to the Galatians,
" Brethren," saith he, " I beseech you, be
as I am, for I am as ye arc ;" that is, I am
a sinner as ye are. Now, I beseech you,
seek for life, as I am seeking for it ; as who
should say, For there is a sufficiency in the
Lord Jesus both for me and you.

4. It is evident also, by the triilmph that
such men make overall their enemies, both
bodily and ghostly: "Now thanks be to
God," said Paul, " who causeth us alway.s
to triumph in Jesus Christ." And who
ehall separate us from the love of Christ
our Lord ; and again, " O death, where is
thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?
The sting of death is sin, and the strength
of sin is the law ; but thanks be to God,
who giveth us the victory through our Lofd
Jesus Christ.

5. It is evident also, for that they are
made by the glory of that which they have
found in him, to sutler and endure what
the devil and hell itself hath or could in-
vent, as a means to separate them from
him. Again, '• who shall separate us from
the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or
distress, or persecution, or famine, or na-
kedness, or peril, or sword ? (as is written.
For thy sake we are killed all the day long,
we are counted as sheep for the slaughter.)
Nay, in all these things we are more than
conquerors, through him that loved us : For
I am persuaded that neither death nor life,
nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers,
nor things present, nor things to come, nor
height, nor depth, nor any other creature,
shall be able to separate us from the love
of God which is in Christ Jesus."

" Shall come to me." O the heart-at-
tracting glory that is in Jesus Christ, (when
he is discovered,) to draw those to him that
are given to him of the Father: There-
fore, those that came of old, rendered this
as the cause of their coming to him. " And
we beheld the glory, as of the only begot-
ten of the Father." And the reason why
others come not, but perish in their sins,
is for want of a sight of his glory. " If
our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that
are lost, in whom the God of this world hath
blinded the minds of them that believe
not lest the glorious light of the gospel
of Christ, who is the image of God, should
shine unto them."

There is, therefore, heart-pulsing glory
in Jesus Christ, which, discovered, draws
the men to him ; wherefore, by " shall come
to me," Christ may mean, when his glory
is discovered, then they must come, then they
shall come to mn. Therefore, as the true,
comers come with Avceping and relenting,
as being sensible of their own vileness;
so again it is said, " That the ransomed of
the Lord shall return, and come to Zion.
with singing, and everlasting joy upon tlieir

heads ; they .shall obtain joy and gladnees,
and sorrow <and sighing sJiall fly away ;
" that is, at the sight of the glory of that
grace, that shows itself to them now, in
the face of our Lord Jesu.-? Chri.st, and in
the hopes that they now have, of being
with him in the hertvenly tabernacles.
Therefore, it saith again, " With gladness
and rejoicing shall they be brought ; Ihey
shall enter into the King's palace."

There is, therefore, heart-attracting glo^
ry in the Lord Jesus Christ, which, when
discovered, subjects the heart to the word,
and makes us come to him.

It is said of Abraham^, That when he
dwelt in Mespotamia, the God of glory ap-
peared unto him, saying, " Get thee out of
thy country." And what then ? Why,
away he went from his house and friends,
and all the world could not stay him. A'oii^.
as the Psalmist says, " Who is the king of
glory?" he answers, "The Lord, mighty
in battle :" And who was that but he that
spoiled principalities and powers, when he
did hang upon the tree, triumphing over
them thereon ? And who was that but Je-
sus Christ, even the person speaking in the
text? Therefore, he saith of Abraham,
" He saAv his day." Yea, saith he to the
Jews, " your father Abraham rejoiced to
see my day, and he saw it, and was glad."

Indeed the carnal man says, at la.'Jt, in his
heart, " There is no form or comeliness in
Ciirist ;" and nvhen we shall see him,
" There is no beauty that we should dcsiru
him ;" but he lies : this he speaks as hav-
ing never seen him. But they that stand
in his house, and look upon him through
the glass of his word, by the help of his
Holy Spirit, they will tell you other things.
But we, say they, " all with open face, be-
holding, aH in a glass, the glory of the Lord,
and changed into the same image, from
glory to glory." They see glory in his
person, glory in his understanding, glory in
the merit of his blood, and glory in the per-
fection of his righteousness ; yea. heart-at-
fecting, heart-sweetening, and heart-chang-
ing glory !

Indeed his glory is veiled, and cannot be
seen, but as discovered by the Father. It
is veiled with flesh, with meanness of des-
cent Irom the flesh, and with that ignominy
and shame that attended him in the flesh ;
but they that can, in God's light, see tlirough
these things, they shall see glory in him ;
yea, such glory as will draw and pull their
hearts unto him.

Moses was the adopted son of Pharaoh's
daughter ; and for aught I know, had been
king at last, had he conformed to the pres-
ent vanities that were there at court ; but
he could not^ he would not do it: why?
what was the matter ? Why ! he saw
more in the worst of Christ, (bear with the

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 171

expression,) than he saw in the best of all
the treasures of the land of Egypt. He
refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's
daughter ; choosing rather to suffer afflic-
tionwith the jteople of God, than to enjoy
the pleasures of sin for a season ; esteeming
the reproach of Christ greater riches than
tlie treasures of Egypt; for he had res-
pect to the rtcompense of reward. He for-
sook Elgypt, not fearing the wrath of the
king. But what emboldened him to do this ?
Why, he endured ; for he had a sight of the
person speaking in the text: "He endured,
as seeing him who is invisible." But I say,
would a sight of Jesus have thus taken
away Moses's heart from a crown, and a
kingdom, &c. had he not by that sight
seen more in him thaa was to be seen in
them ?

Therefore, when he saith, " Shall come
to me," he means they shall have a discov-
ery of the glory of the grace that is in him ;
and the beauty and glory of that is of such
virtue, that it constraineth and forceth,with
a blessed violence, the hearts of those that
are given to him.

Moses of whom we spake before, was no
child when he was thus taken with the
beauteous glory of lliis Lord : he was forty
years old-, and so, consequently, was able,
being a man of that wisdom and opportu-
nity as he was, to make the best judgment
of the things, and of the goodness of them
that were before him in the land of Egypt.
But he, even he it was, that set that low
esteem upon the glory of Egypt, to count
it not worth the meddling with, when he
had a sight of this Lord Jesus Christ. This
wicked v>rorld thinks, that the fancies of a
heaven, and happiness hereafter, may serve
■well enough to take the heart of such as
either have not the world's good things to
delight in, or that are fools, and know not
how to delight themselves therein. But
let them know again, that we have had
men of all ranks and qualities, that have
been taken with the glory of our Lord Je-
sus, and have left all to follow him : as
Abel, Seth, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac.
Jacob, Moses, Samuel, David, Solomon,
and wlio not ? that had either wit or grace,
to savor heavenly things'? Indeed, none
can stand off from him, nor any longer
hold out against him, to whom he reveals
the glory of his grace.

'' And him that cometh to me" I Avill in
no wise cast out. By those words our
Lord Jesus doth set forth, yet more amply,
the great goodness of his nature towards
the coming sinner. Before, he said, they
shall come ; and he declareth, " that with
heart and affections he will receive them."
But, by tile way. let me speak one word or
two to the seeming conditionalify of this
promise with which now I have to do.

" And him that cometh to me, I will in no
wise cast out." Where it is evident (may
some say) that Christ's receiving us to mer-
cy, depends upon our coming, and so our
salvation by Christ is conditional- If we
come, we shall be received ; if not, we thall
not : for that is fully intimated by the words.
Tlie promise of reception is only to him
that cometh : " And him that cometh." I
answer, that the coming in these words
mentioned, as a condition, of being receiv
ed to life, is that which is promised, yea,
concluded to be effected in us by the prom
ise going before. In those latter words,
coming to Christ, is implicitly required of
us ; and in the words before, that grace
that can make us come is positively prom-
ised to us. " All that the Father giveth
to me shall come to me, and him that com-
eth to me, I will in no wise cast out thence."
We come to Christ, because it is said,
" We shall come ;" because it is given to
us to come ; so that the condition which is
expressed by Christ in these latter words,
is absolutely promised in the words before.

And indeed, the coming here intended,
is nothing else but the effect of " shall come
to me. They shall come, and I Avill not
cast them out."

" And him that cometh." — He saith not,
and him that is come but him that cometh.

To speak to these words,—

1. In general.

2. More particularly.

In general. — They suggest unto us these
four things :

L That Jesus Christ doth build upon it,
that since the Father gave his people to
him, they shall be enabled to come unto
him. "And him that cometh," as who
should say, 1 know that since they are giv-
en to me, they shall be enabled to come wi-
to me. He saith not. If they come, or I s^ip'
pose tliey will come — but, and him that
cometh. By these words, therefore he
shows, that he addresseth himself to the
receiving of them whom the Father gave
him to save them : I say, he addresseth
himself or prepareth himself to receive
them ; by which, as I said, he concludeth
or buildeth upon it, that they shall indeed
come to him. He looketh that the Father
should bring them into his bosom, and so
stands ready to embrace them.

2. Christ also suggesteth by these words,
that he very well knoweth who are given
to him ; not by their coming to him, but by
their being given to him. "All that the
Father giveth me, shall come to me ; and
him that cometh, &c." this him he know-
eth to be one of them that the Father hath
given him ; and therefore he receiveth him,
even because the Father hath gi%'en him,
to him. " I know my sheep," saith lie ; not
only those tliat already have Icnowledge of

172 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

him, but those too that yet are ignorant of
him. '■ Other sheep liave 1," said he,
" which are not of tliis fold ;" not of the
Jewish church, but those that he in their
sins, even the rude and barbarous Gentiles.
Tlicrefore, when Paul was afraid to stay at
Cori'.Uli, from a supposition that some mis-
cliief might befal him there; " be not afraid,"
said tiie Lord Jesus to him, "but speak,
and hold not thy peace, for I liave much

Eeople in this city." The people that the
lOrd here speaks of, were not at this time
accounted lu.s, by reason of a work of con-
version that already had passed upon them,
but by virtue of the gift of the Father;
for he had given them unto him. There-
fore was Paul to stay here, to speak the
word of the Lord to them, that by his speak-
ing, the Holy Ghost might effectually work
over their souls, to the causing them to
come to him, who was also ready \vith
heart and soul to receive tliem. .

3. Christ, by these words, also suggest-
ed, that no more come unto him than indeed
are given him of the Father ; for the him
in this place, is one of the all, that by
Christ was mentioned before : " All that the
Father giveth me, shall come to me," and
every him of that all, "I will in no wise
cast out." This the apostle insinuateth,
where he saith, '• He gave some apostles,
and some prophets, and some evangelists,
and some pastors and teachers ; for the
perfecting of the saints, for the work of tlie
ministr}-', for the edifying of the body of
Christ : till we all come in the unity of faith,
and of tl^e knowledge of the Son of God,
unto a perfect man, unto the measure of
the stature of the fulness of Christ."

Mark, as in the text, so here he speak-
eth of all ; '■ Until we all come." We all !
All who ? Doubtless, '• All that the Father
giveth to Christ." This is larther insinu-
ated because he calleth this all the body
of Christ ; the measure of the stature of
the fulness of Ciirist ; by which he means
the universal number given, to wit, the true
elect church, which is .said to be his body
and fulness.

4. Christ Jesus by these words, farther
KUggesteth that he is well content with this
gift of the Father to him. " All that the
Father giveth me, shall come to me, and
him that cometh to me, I will in no wise
cast out." I will heartily, willingly, and
with great content of mind, receive him.

They show us also, that Christ's love in
receiving, as large as his Father's love in
giving, and no larger. Hence, he thanks
him for his gift; and also thanks him for
hiding of him and his things from the rest
of the wicked.

But, secondly, and more particularly,
"And him that cometh." And him. This
word him ; by it Christ looketh back to the

gift of the Father ; not only to the lump
and whole of the gift, but to the every him
of that lump. As who should say, I do not
only accept of the gift of my Father in the
general, but hnve a special regard to every
of them in particular ; and will secure not
only some, or the greatest part, but every
him, every dust; not an hoof of all shall be
lost, or left behind. And indeed, in this he
consenteth to his Father's will, which is,
that of all that he hath given himi, he should
lose nothing.

And him. Christ Jesus also, by his thus
dividing the gift of his Father into hivis,
and by his speaking of them in the singular
number, shows what a particular work
shall be wrought in each one, at the time
appointed of the Father. " And it shall
come to pass in that day," saith the proph-
et, " that the Lord shall beat off Irom the
channel of the river, to the stream of Egypt ;
and ye shall be gathered one by one, O ye
children of Israel." Here are the hims one
by one, to be gathered to him by the Father.

He shows also hereby, that no lineage,
kindred, or relation, can at all be profited
by any outward or carnal union with the
person that the Father hath given to Christ.
It is only him, the given him, the coming
him, that he intends absolutely to secure.
Men make great ado with the children of
believers ; and oh, the children of believers [
But if the child of the believer is not the
him concerned in this absolute promise, it is
not these men's great cry, nor yet what the
parent or child can do, that can interest
him in this promise of the Lord Christ,
this absolute promise.

A7id him. There are divers sorts of per-
sons that the Father hath given to Jesus
Christ ; they are not all of one rank, of
one quality; some are high, some are low;
some are wise, some fools ; some are more
civil, and complying with the 1,'tw ; some
more profane, and averse to him and his
gospel. Now, since those that are given to
him are in some sense so diverse ; and
again, since he yet saith, " And him that
cometh, «fec," he by that, doth give us to
understand, that he is not, as men, for
picking and choosing, to take a best, and
leave a worst, but he is for him that the
Father hath given him, and that cometh to
him. " He will not alter nor change it ; a
good for a bad, or a bad for a good ;" but
will take him as he is, and will save his
soul.

There is many a sad wretch given by the
Father to Jesus Christ ; but not one of
them all is despised or slighted by him.

It is said of those that the Father hath
given to Christ, that they have done worse
than the heathen ; that they Avere murder-
ers, thieves, drunkards, unclean persons,
and what not ; but he has received them.

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 173

washed them, and saved them, A fit em-
blem of this sort is that wretched instance
mentioned in the 16th of Ezekiel, that was
cast out in a stinking condition, to the loath-
ing of its person in the day that it was
born ; a creature in such a wretched con-
dition, that no eye pitied, to do any of the
things there mentioned unto it, or to have
compassion upon it ; no eye but his that
speaketh in the text.

And him. Let him be as red as blood,
let him be as red as crimson: crimson sin-
ners, of a double die ; dipped and dipped
again, before they come to Jesus Christ.
Art thou that readest these lines such a
one? speak out man. Art thou such a
one ■? and art thou now coming to Jesus
Christ lor the mercy of justification, that
thou mightest be made white in his blood,
and be covered with his righteousness ?
Fear not ; for as much as this thy coming
betokeneth that thou art of the number of
them that the Father hath given to Christ ;
for he will in no wise cast thee out. " Come
now," saith Christ, " and let us reason to-
gether ; though your sins be as scarlet
they shall be white as snow ; though they
be red hke crimson, they shall be as wool."

A)id him. There was many a strange
him came to Jesus Christ, in the days of
his flesh ; but he received them all, with
out turning any away. " Speaking unto
them of the kingdom of God, and healing
Buch as had need of healing." These
words, and him, are, therefore, words to be
wondered at: that not one of them, who,
by virtue of the Father's gift, and drawing,
are coming to Jesus Christ, I say, that not
one of them, whatever they have been
whatever they have done, should be reject-
ed, or set by, but admitted to a share in hit
saving grace. It is said in Luke, that the
people " wondered at the gracious words
that proceeded out of his mouth." Now
this is one of his gracious words ; these
words are like drops of honey, as it is said,
" Pleasant words are as an honey-comb,
sweet to the soul, and health to the bones."
These are gracious words indeed, even as
lull as a faithful and merciful high-priest
could speak them. Luther saith, " When
Christ speaketh, he hath a mouth as wide
as heaven and earth ;" that is, to speak fully
to the encouragement of every sinful him
that is coming to Jesus Christ. And that
this word is certain, hear liow he himself
confirms it : " Heaven and earth," saith he,
" shall pass away, but my words shall not
pass away."

It is also confirmed by the testimony of
the four evangelists, who gave faithful rela-
tion of his loving reception of all sorts of
coming sinners, whether they were publi-
cans, harlots, theives, possessed of devils,
bedlama, and what not ?

This then shows us, 1. "The greatness
of the merits of Christ.

2. The willingness of his heart to im-
pute them for hfe to the great, if coming,
sinners.

L This shows us the greatness of the
merits of Christ : for it must not be sup-
posed, that his words are bigger than his
worthiness. He is strong to execute his
word : he can do, as well as speak. " He
can do exceeding abundantly more than we
ask or think," even to the uttermost, and
outside of his word.

Now then, since he includeth any com-
ing him; it must be concluded, that he can
save to the uttermost sin, any coming him.

Do you think, I say, that the Lord Jesus
did not think before he spake ? he speaks
all in righteousness, and therefore, by his
word, we are to judge how mighty he is to
save.

He spake in righteousness, in very faith-
fulness, when he began to build this bless-
ed gospel-fabric ; he first sat down, and
counted the cost : and knew he was able to
finish it! What, Lord ! any him 7 any him
that Cometh to thee ! This is a Christ
worth looking after ; tliis is a Christ worth
coming to.

This, then, should learn us diligently to
consider the natural force of every word of
God ; and to judge of Christ's ability to
save, not by our sins, or by our shallow ap-
prehensions of his grace ; but by his word,
which is the true measure of grace.

And if we do not judge thus, we shall
dishonor his grace, lose the benefit of his
word, and needlessly fright ourselves into
many discouragements, through coming to
Jesus Christ. Him, any him that comefh,
hath sufficient from this word of Christ to
feed himself with hopes of salvation. As
thou art, therefore, coming, O thou coming
sinner, judge not whether Christ can save
thee, by the true sense of his words : judge,
coming sinner, of the efficacy of his blood,
of the perfection of his righteousness, and
of the prevalency of his intercession by his
word. "And him," saith he, "that cometh
to me, I will in no wise cast out." In vo
wise, that is, for no sin : judge, therefore,
by his word, how able he is to save thee :
It is said of God's sayings to the children
of Israel, " There failed not aught of any
good thing which the Lord hath spoken to
the house of Israel ; all came to pa.cs."
And again, "Not one thing hath failed of
all the good things which the Lord your
God spake concerning you, all are come to
pass unto you ; and not one thing hath fail-
ed thereof"

Coming sinner, what promise thou findest
in the word of Christ, strain it whether
thou canst, so thou dost not corrupt it, and
his blood and merits will answer all ; what

174 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

the word saith, or any true consequence
that is drawn therefrom, that we may
boldly venture upon : as here in the text
he saith, '• And him that comcth," indefi-
nitely, without ihe least intimation of the
rejection of any, thoui^li never so great, if
he be a coming sinner. Take it then for
granted, that ihou, whoever thou art, if
coming, art intended in these words ; nei-
ther sliall it injure Christ at all, if, as Ben-
hadad's servants served Ahah, thou shall
catch him at his word. "IS'ow," saith the
text, '■ tiie man did diligently observe
whether any thing would come from him,"
to wit. any word of grace ; " and did has-
tily catch it." And it happened that Ahab
had called Benhadad hi.s brother. The
man replied, therefore, " Thy brother Ben-
hadi.d!" catching him at his word. Sin-
ner, coming sinner, serve Jesus Christ thus,
ami he will take it kindly at thy hands.
When he, in his argument, called the Ca-
naauitish woman dog, she catched him at
it, and said, '' Truth, Lord, yet the dogs
eat of the crumbs that fall from their mas-
ter's table." I say, she catched him thus in
his words, and he took it kindly, saying, ''O
woman, great is thy faith : be it unto thee
even as thou wilt" Catch him, coming
Binner, catch him in his words ; surely he
will lake it kindly, and will not be offended
at thee.

2. The other thing that I told you is
showed trom these words, is this : the wil-
lingness of Christ's heart, to impute his
mercies for life, to the great, if coming sin-
ner. " And him that cometh to me, I will
in no wise cast out."

The awakened, coming sinner, doth not
so easily question the power of Christ, as
his willingness to save him : " Lord, if thou
wilt, thou canst," said one. He did not put
the if upon his power, but upon his will :
he concluded he could, but lie was not as
fully of persuasion that he would ; but we
liave the same ground to believe that he
will, as we have to believe he can ; and in-
deed, ground for both is the word of God.
If he was not willing, why did he promise?
Wh}^ did he say, he would receive the
coming sinner? Coming sinner, take no-
tice of this ; we use to plead practises with
men, and Avhy not with God likewise ? I
am sure we have no more ground for one
than the other ; for we have to plead the
promise of a faithful God. Jacob took him
there: "Thou saidst," said he, "I will
Burely do thee good." For. from this prom-
ise, he concluded, that it followed in reason.
He mu.-t be willing.

The text also gives some ground for us
to draw the same conclusion. " And him
that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast
out." Here is his willingness asserted, as
well as his power suggested. It is worth

your observation, that Abraham's faith con-
sidered rather God's power than his wil-
lingness; that is, he drew his conclusion, /
.s7ia// have a child., from the power that was
in God to fulfil the promise to him: for he
concluded he was v.iiling to give him one,
else he would not have p;-oniised one. "He
staggered not at the promise of God
through unbelief, but was strong in faith,
giving glory to God ; being fully persuaded
that wlial he had j)romised he was able to
perform." But Avas not his faith exercised,
or tried, about his willingness too ? No,
there was no show of reason for that, be-
cause he had promised it : indeed, liad he
not promised it, he might lawfully have
doubted it: but since he had promised it,
there was left no ground at all for doubting,
because his willingness to give a son was
demonstrated in his promising him a son.
These words, therefore, are sufficient ground
to encourage any coming sinner, that
Christ is willing to his power to receive
him ; and since he hath power also to do
what he will, there is no ground at all left
to the coming sinner, any more to doubt ;
but to come in full hope of acceptance, and
of being received unto grace and mercy.
"And him that cometh." He saith not,
and him that is to eome; but. "and him
that cometh ;" that i.?, and him whose heart
begins to move after me, who is leaving afl
for my sake ; him who is looking out, who
is on his journey to me. We must, there-
fore, distinguish betwixt coming and being
come to Jesus Christ. He that is come to
him, has attained of him more sensibly
what he felt before he wanted, than he has
that but yet is coming to him.

A man that is come to Christ, has the
advantage of him that is but coming to him :
and that in seven things.

1. He that is come to Christ, is nearer to
him than he that is but coming to him ; {or
he that is but coming to him, is yet, in eome
sense, at a distance from him ; as it is said
of the coming prodigal, " And while he wa.<?
yet a great way ofl'." Now, he that is
nearer to him, hath the best sight of him ;
and so is able to make the best judgment
of his wonderful grace and beauty, as God
saith, " Let them come near, and let tliem
speak." And as the apostle John saith,
" And we have seen, and do testify, that
God sent his Son to be Saviour of the
world." He that is not yet come, though
hp is coming, is not fit, not being indeed
capable to make that judgment of the worth
and glory of the grace of Christ, as he is
that is come to him, and hath seen and be-
held it. Therefore, sinner, suspend tliy
judgment till thou art come nearer.

2. He that is come to Christ has the ad-
vantage of him that is but coming, in that
he is cased of his burden ; for he that is

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. I75

but coming, is not eased of his burden. He
that is come, has cast his burden upon the
Lord. By faith he hath seen himself re-
leased thereof; but he that is but coming,
hath it yet, as to sense and feeUng, upon
his own shoulders. "Come unto me. all
ye that labor and are heavy laden," implies,
that their burden, though they are coming,
is yet upon tliem, and so will be till indeed
they are come to him;

3. He that is come to Christ, hath the
advantage of him that is but coming, in
this also, namely, he hath drunk of the
sweet and soul-refreshing water of hfe ; but
he that is but coming, hath not; "If any
man thirst, let him come unto me and
drink."

Mark! he must come to him before he
drinks ; according to that of the prophet,
" Ho ! every one that thirsteth, come ye to
the waters." He drinketh not as he Com-
eth, but when he is come to the water.

4. He tliat is come to Christ, has the ad-
vantage of him that as yet is but coming,
in this also, to wit, he is not terrified with
the noise, and as I may call it, hue and
cry, which the avenger of blood makes at
the heels of him, that yet is but coming to
him. When the slayer was on his flight to
the city of his refuge, he had the noise or
fear of the avenger of blood at his heels ;
but when he was come to the city, and was
entered thereinto, the noise ceased : even
so it is with him that is coming to Jesus
Christ: he heareth many a dreadful sound
in his ear : sounds of death and damnation,
which he that is come, is at present freed
from. Therefore, he saith, " Come, and I
will give you rest ;" and so he saith again,
" We that have believed do enter into rest,"
as he said, &c.

5. He, therefore, that is come to Christ,
is not so subject to those dejections, and
castings down, by reason of the rage and
assaults of the evil one, as is the man that
is but coming to Jesus Christ, though he
has temptations too. " And whilst he was
yet coming, the devil threw him down and
tore him." For he has, though Satan still
roareth upon him, those experimental com-
Ibrts and refreshments, to wit, in his treas-
ury, to present liimself with, in times of
temptation and conflict ; which he that is
but coming has not.

6. He that is C/ome to Christ, has the ad-
vantage of him that is but comhig to him,
in this also, to wit, lie hath upon liim the
wedding-garment, &c. : but he that is com-
ing has not. The prodigal, when coming
home to his father, was clothed with noth-
ing but rags, and v.-as tf)rmented with an
empty belly ; but when he was come, the
best robe is brought out, also the gold ring,
and the shoes, yea, they are put u'pon hini,
to his great rejoicing. The fatted calf was

killed for him ; the music was struck up to
make him merry ; and thus also the Father
himself sang of him, " This my son was
dead, and is aUve again ; was lost and is
Ibund."

7. In a word, he that is come to Christ,
his groans and tears, his doubts and fears,
are turned into songs and praises, for that
he hath now received the atonement, and
the earnest of his inheritance ; but he that
is but yet a coming, hath not those praises
nor songs of deliverance with him ; nor has
he as yet received the atonement and earn-
est of his inheritance, which is the sealing
testimony of the Holy Ghost, through the
sprinkling of the blood of Christ upon his
conscience ; for he is not come.

" And him that comeih.'" — There is fur-
ther to be gathered i'rom this Avord cometh
these following particulars :

1. That Jesus Christ hath his eye upon
and takes notice of the first moving of the
heart of a sinner after him. Coming sin-
ner, thou canst not move with desires after
Christ, but he sees the working oC those
desires in thy heart: "AH my desires,"
said David, "are before thee, and my
groanings are not hid from thee." This he
spake, as he was coming (after he liad
back-slidden) to the Lord Jesus Christ. It
is said of the prodigal, " that while he v.'as
yet a great way off, his father saw him,"
had his eye upon him, and upon the going
out of his heart after him."

When Nathaniel was come to Jesus
Christ, the Lord said to them that slood
before him, "Behold an Israelite indeed, in
whom there is no guile." But Nathanirl
answered him, "Whence knowest thou mo ?"
Jesus answered, " Before that Philip called
thee, when thou wast under the fig-tree, I
saw thee." There I suppose, Nathaniel
was pouring out of Iiis soul to God for
mercy, or that he would give him good un-
derstanding about the Messiah to come :
and Jesus saw all the workings of liis hon-
est heart at that time.

Zaccheus also had some secret movings
of heart, such as they were, towards Jesus
Christ, when he ran before, and climbed up
the tree to see him ; and the Lord Jesus
Christ had his eye upon him ; therefore,
when he was come to the place, he looked
up to him, bids him come down : " for to-
day," said he, "I must abide at thy house,"
to wit, in order to the further completing
the work of grace in his soul. Remember
this, coming sinner.

2. As Jesus hath his eye upon, so he
hath his heart open to receive the com-
ing sinner. This is verified by the text :
" And Iiim that cometh to me, I will in no
wise cast out." This is also discovered by
his preparing of the way, in his making of
it easy (as it may be) to the comhig sinner;

176 COME, AiND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

which preparation is manifest by these
blessed words, " I will in no wise cast out,"
of which more when we come to the place.
*' And while he was yet a great way off,
liis Father saw him, and had compassion
on him ; and ran, and fell on his neck, and
kissed him." All these expressions do
strongly prove, that the heart of Christ is
open to receive the coming sinner.

3. As Jesus Christ hath his eye upon,
and his heart open to receive ; so he hath
resolved already that nothing shall alienate
his heart from receiving the coming sinner.
No sins of the coming sinner, nor the
length of the time that he hath abode in
them, shall, by any means, prevail with Je-
sus Christ to reject him. Coming sinner,
thou art coming to a loving Lord Jesus.

4. These words, therefore, dropped from
his blessed mouth, on purpose that the
coming sinner might take encouragement
to continue on his journey, until he be come
indeed to Jesus Christ. It was, doubtless,
a great encouragement, to blind Bartimeus,
that Jesus Christ stood still and called him,
when he was crying, "Jesus, thou Son of
David, have mercy upon me ;" therefore,
it is said, '• he cast away his garment, rose
up and came to Jesus." Now, if a call to
come hath such encouragement in it, what
is a promise of receiving such, but an en-
couragement much more ? And observe
it, though he had a call to come, yet not
having a promise, his faith was forced to
work upon a mere consequence, saying, he
calls me ; and surely, since he calls me, he
will grant me my desire. Ah ! but coming
sinner, thou hast no need to go so llir about,
as to draw, in this matter, consequences,
because thou hast plain yjromises: '-And
him that cometh to me, I will in no wise
cast out." Here is full, plain, yea, what
encouragement one can desire ; for suppose
thou wert admitted to make a promise thy-
self, and Christ should attest that he would
fulfil it upon the sinner that cometh to him,
couldst thou make a better promise ? couldst
thou invent a more full, free, or larger
promise ? a promise that looks at the first
moving of the heart after Jesus Christ? a
promise that declares, yea, that engageth
Christ Jesus to open his heart to receive
the coming sinner! yea, farther, a promise
that denionstrateth that the Lord Jesus is
resolved freely to receive, and will in no
wise cast out, nor means to reject the soul
of the coming sinner ! For all this lieth
fully in this promise, and doth naturally
flow therefrom. Here thou needest not
make use of far-fetched consequences, nar
strain thy wits, to force encouraging argu-
ments from the text. Coming sinners, the
words are plain.

" And him that conictli to inc, I Avill in no
wise cast out."

" And him that comethP There are two
sorts of sinners that are coming to Jesus
Christ.

1. Him ihat hath never, until of late, at
all begun to come.

2. Him that came formerly, and after
that went back, but has since bethought
himself; and is now coming again.

Both these sorts of sinners are intended
by the him in the text, as is evident; be-
cause both are now the coming sinners.

For the first of these; the sinner that
hath never, until of late, begun to come,
his way is more easy : I do not say, more
plain and open, to come to Christ than is
the other, (those lost having the clod of a
guilty conscience of the sin of backsliding,
hanging at their heels.) But all the en-
couragement of the gospel, with what in-
vitations are herein contained to coming
sinners, are as free and as open to the one
as the other ; so that they may with the
same freedom and liberty, as from the word,
both alike claim interest in the promise.
" All things are ready," all things for the
coming backslider, as well as for the others :
" Come to the wedding ; and let him that ia
athirst come."

But having spoke of the first of these al-
ready, I shall here pass it by; and shall
speak a word or two to him that is coming,
after backsliding, to Jesus Christ for life.

Thy way, O thou sinner of a double dye,
thy way is open to come to Jesus Christ ;
I mean thee, whose heart, after long back-
sliduig, doth think of turning to him again.
Thy way, I say, is open to him, as is the
way of the other sorts of comers ; as ap-
pears by what follows :

L Because the text makes no exception
against thee : it doth not say, and any him^
but a backslider ; any him, but him. The
text doth not thus object, but indefinitely
openeth wide its golden arms to every com-
ing soul, without the least exception ; there-
fore tho\i mayest come. And take heed
that thou shut not that door against thy
soul by unbelief, which God has opened by
his grace.

2. Nay, the text is so fiir from excepting
against thy coming, that it strongly sug-
gesteth, that thou art one of the souls in-
Tended, O thou coming backslider ; else
what need that clause have been so insert-
ed, " I will in no wise cast out !" As who
should say, though those that now come,
are such as have formerly backslidden ; I
will in 110 wise cast away the fornicator, the
covetous, the railer, the drunkard, or other
common sinners, nor yet the backslider
neither.

3. That the backslider is intended, is ev-
ident.

l.sV. For that he is sent to by nainc, " Go
tell his dicciplen, and Peter." But Peter

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 177

was a godly man. True, but he was also
a backslider, yea, a desperate backslider:
he had denied his master once, twice, thrice,
cursing and swearing that he knew him
not. If this was not backsliding, if this was
not a high and eminent backsliding, yea, a
higher backsliding than thou art capable of,
I have thought amiss.

Again, when David haa backslidden,
and had committed adultery and murder in
his backsliding, he must be sent to by name.
" And," saithlhe text, " The Lord sent Na-
than to David." And he sent him to tell
him, after he had brought him to unfeign-
ed acknowledgment, " The Lord hath also
put away, or forgiven thy sins."

This man was also far gone: he took a
man's wife and killed her husband, and en-
deavored to cover all with wicked dissimu-
lation. He did this I say, after God exalted
him and showed him great favor ; where-
fore, his transgression was greatened also
by the prophet with mighty aggravations :
yet he was accepted, and that with glad-
ness, at the first step he took in his return-
ing to Christ ; for tlie first step of the back-
slider's return is to say, sensibly and un-
feignedly, " I have sinned :" but he had no
sooner said thus, but a pardon was pro-
nounced, yea, thrust into his bosom. " And
Nathan said unto David, the Lord hath al-
so put away thy sin."

2dly. As the person of the backslider is
mentioned by name, so also is his sin, that,
if possible, thy objections against thy re-
turning to Christ, may be taken out of the
way ; I say, thy sin also is mentioned by
name, and mixed, as mentioned, with words
of grace and favor. " I will heal their back-
sliding, and love them freely." What
sayest thou now backslider ?

3dly. Nay, farther, thou are not only
mentioned by name, and thy sin by the na-
ture of it ; but thou thyself, who art a re-
turning backslider, put,

1. Amongst God's Israel, "Return, O
backsliding Israel, saith the Lord, and I
will not cause mine anger to fall upon you,
for I am merciful, saith the Lord, and will
not keep anger for ever."

2. Thou art put -among his children;
among his children to whom he is married.
"Tarn O backsliding children, for I am
married unto you.'"

3. Yea, after all this, as if his heart was
so full of grace for them, that he was press-
ed until he had uttered it before them, he
adds, " Return ye backsliding children, and
I will heal your backsHding."

4. Nay, farther, the Lord hath consider-
ed, that the shume of thy sin hath stopped
thy mouth, and made thee almost a pray-
erlees man : and tkerefore he saith unto
thee, " Take with you words and turn un-
to the Lord, and eay unto him, take away

Vol. 3.-W.

all iniquity, and receive us graciously."
See his grace, that himself should put
words of encouragement into the heart of
a backslider : as he saith in another place,
" I taught Ephraim to go, taking him by
the arms." This is teaching him to go in-
deed, to hold him up by the arms ; by the
chin, as we say.

From what has been said, I conclude,
even as I said before, and the him in the
text, and "him that cometh," includeth
both these sorts of sinners, and therefore
both should freely come.

Question. But where doth Jesus Christ
in all the words of the New Testament, ex-
pressly speak to a returning backslider with
words of grace and peace ? for what you
have urged as yet, from the New Testa-
ment, is nothing but consequences drawn
from this text. Indeed, it is a full text for
carnal, ignorant sinners, that come ; but to
me who am a backslider, it yieldeth but lit-
tle relief.

Answer 1. How! but littte encourage-
ment from the text, when it is said, " I will
in no wise cast out!" What more could
have been said ? what is here omitted that
might have been inserted, to make the
promise more full and free ? Nay, take ali
the promises in the Bible, all the freest
promises, with all the variety of expressions
of what nature or extent soever, and
they can but amount to the expressions
of this very promise, " I will in no wise cast
out :" will tor nothing, by no means, upon
no account, however they have sinned,
however they have backslidden, however
they have provoked, cast out tlae coming
sinner. But,

2. Thou sayest, where doth Jesus Christ,
in all the words of the New Testament,
speak to a returning backslider with words
of grace and peace *, that is, under the
name of a backslider 1

Answer. Where there is such plenty of
examples in receiving backsliders, there is
the less need for express words to that in-
tent : one promise, as the text is, with those
examples that are annexed, are instead of
many promises. And besides ; I reckon
that the act of receiving is as so much,
if not of more encouragement, than is a
bare promise to receive ; for receiving is as
the promise to receive ; for receiving is as the
promise, and the fulfilling of it too ; so that
in the Old Testament thou hast the prom-
ise, and in the New, the fulfilling of it ; and
that in divers examples.

1. In Peter. Peter denied his master,
once, tAvice, thrice, and that with an open
oath ; yet Christ receives him again witli-
out any the least hesitation or stick. Yea,
he slips, stumbles, falls again, in downriirht
dissimulation, and that to the hurt and fall
of many others ; but neither of tliie dotk

178 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

Christ make a bar to his salvation, but re-
ceives him again at his return, as if he
knew nothing of the fault.

2. The rest of his disciples, even all of
them, did backslide, and leave the Lord Je-
sus in his greatest straits : "' Then ail the
disciples forsook him and Hed ; they return-
ed (as he liad foretold) every one to liis
own, and left hiin alone ;" but this also he
passes over as a very light matter : not that
it was so indeed in itself, but the abun-
dance of grace that was in him did lightly
roll it away ; for after his resurrection, wlien
first lie appeared unto them, he gives tiiem
not the Ifast clieck for their perfidious deal-
ings with him, but salutes them with words
of grace, saying, " All hail, be not afraid,
peace be to you, all power in heaven and
earth is given unto me." True, he rebuk-
ed them for their unbelief, lor the wliich
also thou deservest the same : for it is un-
belief that alone puts Christ and his bene-
fits from us.

3. The man that after a large profes-
sion lay with his father's wile, committed a
high transgression, even such a one that
at that day was not heard of, no not among
the Gentiles. Wherefore this was a des-
perate backsliding ; yet, at his return he
was received, and accepted again to mer-
cy.

4. The thief that stole was bid to steal
no more: not at all doubting, but that
Christ was ready to forgive him this act of
backsliding.

Now all these are examples, particular
instances of Christ's readiness to receive
the backsliders to mercy ; and observe it,
examples and proofs that he hath done so,
are to our unbelieving hearts, stronger en-
couragements than bare promises, tiiat so
he will do. But again, the Lord Jesus
hath added to these, for the encourage-
ment of returning backsliders, to come to
hi.T:i.

L A call TO come, and he will receive
them. Wherefore, New-Testament back-
sliders have encouragement to come.

2. A declaration of readiness to receive
them that come, as here in ti\e text, and in
many other places, is plain ; therefore,
" Set thee up these marks, make thee those
high Iieaps, (of the golden grace of tiie
gospel,) set thine heart towards the high-
way, even the way that thou wentest (wlien
thou didst backsHde;) turn asaiii, O virgin
of Israel, turn again to tliesc tliy cities."

And him that cometli. He saitli not
and him tliat talketli, that professcth, that
maketli, a show, a noise or the like ; but
him that cometh. Christ will take leavt; to
judge, who. among the many that make a
nois2, they be that indeed are coming to
him. It is not him that saith he comes,
nor him of whom others affirm that he

comes; but him that Christ himself shall
say doth come, that is concerned in this
text. When the woman that had a bloody
issue came to him for cure, there were oth-
ers as well as she, that made a great bustle
about Iiim, that touciied, yea, thronged him.
Ah, but Christ could distinguish tiiis woman
from them all; "And he looked round
about upon them all, to see her that had
done this thing."

He was not concerned with the throng-
ing, or toucliing of the rest; for theirs
were but accidental, or at best void of that
which made her touch acceptable. Where-
fore, Christ must be judge who they be
that in truth are coming to him : '• Every
man's ways are right in his own eyes, but
the Lord weiglieth the spirits." It stand-
eth therefore every one in hand to be cer-
tain of their coming to Jesus Christ: for
as thy coming is, so shall the salvation be :
if thou comest indeed, thy salvation sliall
be indeed ; but if thou comest but in out-
ward appearance, so shall thy salvation
be : but of coming, see before, as also af-
terwards, in the use and application.

'• And him that cometh to me." — These
words to me are also to be well heeded ;
for by them, as he secureth those that come
to him, so also he shows himself unconcern-
ed with those that in their coming rest
short, to turn aside to others : for you must
know, that every one tluit comes, comes
not to Jesus Christ ; some that come, come
to Moses, and to his law, and there take up
for life ; with these Christ is not concern-
ed ; with these his promise has not to do.
"Christ is become of none effect unto you,
whoso of you are justified by the law ; ye
are fallen from grace." Again some that
come, come no farther than the gospel ordi-
nances, and there stay ; they come not
through them to Christ ; with these neither
is he concerned ; nor will their " Lord,
Lord," avail them any thing in the great
and dismal d.ay. A man may come too,
and also go from the place and ordi-
nances of worship, and yet not be remem-
bered by Christ. " So I saw the wicked
buried, said Solomon, who had come and
gone from the place of the Holy, and they
were forgotten in the city, where they had
so done; this is also vanity."

To me. — These words, therefore, are by
Jesus Christ very warily put in. and serve
for caution and encouragement; for cau-
tion, lest we take up in our coming any
thing short of Christ ; and for cncourage-
menT to those that shall in their coming,
come past all till they come to Jesus Christ:
" And him that cometh to me, I will in no
wise cast out."

Reader, if thou lovest thy soul, take this
caution kindly at th. hands of Jesus Christ.
Thou seest thy sickness, thy wound, tliy

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST, I79

necessity of salvation ; well, go not to king
Jareb, for he cannot heal thee, nor cure
thee of thy wound. Take the caution, I
say, lest Christ, instead of being a Saviour
unto thee, becomes a lion, a young lion to
tear thee, and go away.

There is a coming, but not to the Most
High ; there is a coming, but not wiUa tlie
wliole heart, but as it were feignedly; there-
fore take the caution kindly.

"And him that cometh to 7ne." — Christ,
as a Saviour, will stand alone, because his
own arm alone hath brought salvation unto
him : he will not be joined with Moses, nor
suffer John Baptist to be tabernacled by
him : I say they must vanish, for Christ will
stand alone ; yea, God the Father will have
it so ; tlierefbre, they must be parted from
him, and a voice from heaven must come
to bid the disciples hear only the beloved
Son. Christ will not suffer any law, or or-
dinance, statute or judgment, to be part-
ners with him in the salvation of the sinner.
Nay, he saith not, And him that cometh to
my word ; but, And him that cometh to
me. The words of Christ, even his most
blessed and free promises, such as this in
the text, are not the Saviour of the world ;
for that is Christ himself, Christ himself
only. The promises, therefore, are but to
encourage coming sinners to come to Jesus
Christ, and not to rest in them short of sal-
vation by men. " And him that cometh
io mt'." — The man, therefore, that comes
aright, casts all things behind his back and
looketh at (nor hath his expectations from
ought but) the Son of God alone ; and
David said, " My soul, wait thou only upon
God : for my expectation is from him : he
only is my rock, and my salvation ; he is
my defence, I shall not be moved." His
eye is to Christ, his heart is to Christ, and
his expectation is from him, from him only.

Therefore, the man that comes to Christ
is one that hath had deep considerations of
his own sins, slighting thoughts of his own
righteousness, and high thoughts of the
blood and righteousness of Jesus Christ;
yea, he sees, as I have said, more virtue in
the blood of Christ to save him, than there
is in all his sins to damn him. He there-
fore setteth Christ before his eyes ; there
is nothing in heaven or earth, he knows,
that can save his soul and secure him from
the wrath of God, but Christ; that is, no-
tliing but his personal riorhteousness and
blood."

" And him that cometh to me, T will in
no wise cast out." — " In no Avise :" by these
words there is something expressed and
something implied.

1- That which is expressed is Jesus
Christ, his unchangeable resolution to save
the coming sinner : I will in no wise reject

him, or deny him the benefit of my death,
and righteousness. This word, therefore,
is like that which he speaks of the everlast-
ing damnation of the sinner in hell-fire ;
"He shall by no means depart thence;"
that is never, never come out again ; no,
not to all eternity. So that as he that is
condemned into hell-fire hath no ground of
hope for his deliverance thence ; so him
that cometh to Christ hath no ground to
tear he shall ever be cast in thither.

Thus saith the Lord, " If heaven above
can be measured, or the foundation of the
earth searched out beneath, I will also cast
away all the seed of Israel, for all that they
have don«, saith the Lord."

Thus saith the Lord, "If my covenant
be not with day and night, and if I have
not appointed the ordinances of heaven and
earth, then will I cast away the seed of Ja-
cob." But heaven cannot be measured,
nor the foundations of the earth searched
out beneath ; his covenant is also with day
and night, and he hath appointed the ordi-
nances of heaven ; thereibre, he will not
cast away the seed of Jacob, who are the
coming ones, but will certainly save them
from the dreadful wrath to come. By this,
therefore, it is manifest, that it was not the
greatness of sin, nor the long continuance
in it; no, nor yet the backsliding, nor the
pollution of thy nature, that can put a bar
in against, or be a hindrance of the salva-
tion of the coming sinner: for, if indeed
this could be, then would this solemn and
absolute determination of the Lord Jesus,
of itself, fall to the ground, and be made of
none effect: "But this counsel shall stand,
and he will do all his pleasure," that i.s, his
pleasure is this, for his promise, as to tliis
irreversible conclusion, arises of his pleas-
ure, he will stand to it, and will I'ulfil it, be-
cause it is his pleasure.

Suppose that one man had the sins, or as
many sins as a hundred, and another should
have a hundred times as many as he, yet
if they come, (his word, " I will in no wise
cast out," secures them both alike.

Suppose a man has a desire to be saved,
and for that purpose is coming in truth to
Jesus Christ, but he, by his debauched hfe,
has damned many in hell; why, the door
of hope is by these words set as open for
him as it is lor him that has not the thou-
sandth part of his trans^^ressions. " And
him tliat cometh to me. I will in no wise
cast out."

Suppose a man is coming to Christ to he
saved, and hatli nothing but sin, and an ill-
spent life, to bring Avith him ; why, let him
come and welcome to Je.sus Christ, "and
he will in no wise cast him out." Is not this
love that passeth knowledge? and is not
this love the wonderment of angels ? and

IgO COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

is not this love worthy of all acceptation
at the hands and hearts of all coming sin-
ners ?

2. That which is implied in the words is,

Isl. The coming souls have those that
continually lie at Jesus Christ, to cast them
ofl:

2dly. The coming sooils are afraid that
those will prevail with Christ to cast them
off.

For these words are spoken to satisfy us,
and to stay up our spirits against these two
dangers : '• I will in no wise cast out"

Isi. For the Jirst, coming souls have
those that continually lie at Jesus Christ, to
cast them ofl'

And there are three things that thus
bend themselves eigain&t the coming sin-
ner.

1. There is the devil, the accuser of the
brethren, that accuses them before God,
day and night. This prince of darluiess is
unwearied in this work : he doth it, as you
see, day and night ; that is, without ceas-
ing. He continually puts in his caveats
against thee, if so be he may prevail. How
did he play it against that good man Job,
if possibly he might have obtained his de-
struction in hell-fire ? He objected against
him, that he served not God for nought, and
tempted God to put forth his hand against
him, urging, that if he did it, he would
curse him to his face ; and all this, as God
witnesseth, " he did without a cause." How
did he play it with Christ against Joshua
the high-priest ? " And he showed me
Joshua," saith the prophet, " the high-priest,
standing before the angel of the Lord, and
Satan standing at his right hand to resist
him."

" To resist him ;" that is, to prevail with
the Lord Jesus Christ to resist him ; ob-
jecting the uncleanness, and unlawful mar-
riage of his sons with the Gentiles; for
that was the crime that Satan laid agamst
them. Yea, and for aught I know, Joshua
was also guilty of the fact ; but if not of
that, of crimes no whit inferior ; for he was
clothed with filthy garments, as he stood
before the angel. Neither had he one
word to say in vindication of himself,
against all that tliis wicked one had to say
against him. But notwithstanding that, he
came off well ; but he might for it thank a
good Lord Jesus, because he did not resist
him, but, contrariwise, took up his cause,
pleaded against the devil, excusing his in-
firmity, and put justifying robes upon him
before his adversary's face.

"And the Lord said unto Satan, The
Lord rebuke thee, O Satan, even the Lord
that hath chosen Jerusalem, rebuke thee.
Is not this a brand plucked out of the fire?
And he answered and spake to those that
stood before him, saying, Take away the

filthy garment from him; and to him he
said. Behold I have caused tliine iniquities
to pass from thee, and will clothe thee with
a change of raiment."

Again ; how did Satan ply in against
Peter, when he desired to have him, that
he might sift him as wheat ? tliat is, if pos-
sible, sever all grace from his heart, and
leave him nothing but flesh and filth, to
the end that he might make the Lord Jesus
loathe and abhor him. " Simon, Simon,"
said Christ, " Satan hath desired to have
you, that he might sift you as wheat." But
did he prevail against him? No: "But I
have prayed for thee, that tliy faith fail
not." As who should say, Simon, Satan
hath desired me that I would give thee up
to him, and not only thee, but all the rest
of thy brethren, (for that the word you im-
ports ;) but I will not leave thee in his
hand: I have prayed for thee, thy faith
shall not fail. I will secure thee to the
heavenly inheritance-

2. As Satan, so every sin of the coming
sinner comes in with a voice against him,
if perhaps they may prevail with Christ to
cast off the soul. When Israel was coming
out of Egypt to Canaan, how many times
had their sins thrown them out of the mer-
cy of God, had not Moses, as a tyjie of
Clirist, stood in the breach to turn away
his wrath from them ! Our iniquities testi-
fy against us, and would certainly prevail
against us, to our utter rejection and dam-
nation, had we not an advocate with the
Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.

The sins of the old world cried them
down to hell ; the sins of Sodom fetched
upon them fire from heaven, which devour-
ed them ; the sins of the Egyptians cried
them down to hell, because they came not
to Jesus Christ for life. Coming sinner,
tliy sins are no whit less than any ; nay,
perhaps they are as big as all theirs. Why
is it, then, that thou hvest when they are
dead, and that thou hast a promise of par-
don when they had not? " Why, thou art
coming to Jesus Christ," and therefore sin
shall not be thy ruin.

3. As Salan and sin, so tlie law of Mo-
ses, as it is a perfect holy law, hath a voice
against you before the face of God. " There
is one that accuseth you, even Moses's law."
Yea, it accuseth all men of transgression,
that have sinned against it ; for as long as
sin is sin, there will be a law to accuse for
sin. But this accusation shall not prevail
against the coming sinner, because it is
Christ that died, and tliat ever lives, to
make intermission for them that " come to
God by him."

These things, I say, do accuse us before
Christ Jesus; yea, and also to our own
faces, if perhaps they might prevail against
us. But these words, " I will in no wise

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 181

cast out," secureth the coming sinner from
them all.

The coming sinner is not saved, because
there is none that comes in against him ;
but because the Lord Jesus will not hear
their accusations, will not cast out the com-
ing sinner.

Wiien Shimei came doAvn to meet king
David, and to ask pardon for his rebellion,
up starts Abishai, and put in his caveat,
saying. Shall not Shemei die for this?
This is the case of him that comes to
Christ: he hath this Abishai, and that
Abishai, that presently steps in against
him, saying, shall not this rebel's sin de-
stroy him in hell '? Read farther : " But
David answered, What have I to do with
you, ye sons of Zeruiah, that you should
this day be adversaries to me '? Shall there
any man be put to death this day in Israel,
for do I not know, that I am king this day
over Israel ?"

That is Christ's answer by the text, to
all that accuse the coming Shimeis : What
have I to do with you, that accuse the com-
ing sinners to me ? I count you adversa-
ries, that are against my showing mercy
to them. Do not I know, that I am exalted
this day to be king of righteousness and
king of peace? "I will in no wise cast
them out."

2dly. But again, these words do closely
imply, that the coming souls are afraid,
that these accusers will prevail against
them, as is evident, because the text is spo-
ken for their relief and succor: for that
need not be, if they that are coming are
not subject to fear, and despond upon this
account. Alas, there is guilt; and the
curse lies upon the conscience of the com-
ing sinner.

Besides, he is conscious to himself what
a villain, what a wretch he hath been
against God and Christ. Also he now
knows, by woful experience, how he hath
been at Satan's beck, and at the motion of
every lust. He hath now also new thoughts
of the holiness and justice of God : also he
feels, that he cannot forbear sinning against
him : " for the motions of sin, which are by
the law, do still work in his members, to
bring forth fruit unto death." But none of
this need discourage, since we have so
good, so tender-hearted, and so faithful a
Jesus to come to, who will rather overthrow
heaven and eartli, than suffer a tittle of this
text to fail. " And him that cometh to me
I will in no wise cast out."

Now we have yet to inquire into two
things that lie in these words, to which
there hath been nothing said : as, L What
it is to cast out ; 2. How it appears that
Christ hath power to save or cast out.

For the first of these — What it is to cast

out. To this I will |peak, 1. Generally j
2. More particularly.

1. To cast out, is to slight, and despise,
and contemn ; and as it is said of Saul's
shield, " it was vilely cast away :" that is,
slighted and contemned. Thus it is with
the sinners that come not to Jesus Christ ;
He slights, despises, and contemns them ;
that is, " casts them away."

2. Things cast away are reputed as the
dirt of the street. And thus it shall be
with the men that come not to Jesus Christ ;
they shall be counted as the dirt in the streets.

3. To be cast out, or off, it is to be abhor-
red, not to be pitied ; but to be put to a per-
petual shame.

But, more particularly, to come to the
text. The casting out here mentioned, is
not limited to this or the other evil ; there-
fore it must be extended to the most ex-
treme and utmost misery. Or, thus :

He that cometh to Christ, shall not want
any thing that may make him gospelly-
happy in this world, or that which is to
come; nor shall he want any thing that
cometh not, that may make him spiritually
and eternally miserable.

But, further; as it is to be generally
taken, so it respecteth things that shall be
hereafter.

For the things that are now, they are
either, 1. More general ; 2. Or more par-
ticular.

First, More general, thus :

L It is to be cast out of the presence and
favor of God.

Thus was Cain cast out: "thou hast
driven" (or cast) "me out this day; from
thy face" (that is, from thy favor) "shall I
be hid." A dreadful complaint! but the
effect of a more dreadful judgment.

2. " To be cast out," is to be cast out of
God's sight. God will look after them no
more, care for them no more ; nor will he
watch over them any more for good. Now
they that are so, are left like blind men, to
wander and fall into the pit of hell. This
therefore is also a sad judgment ! therefore
here is the mercy of him that cometh to
Christ. He shall not be left to wander at
uncertainties. The Lord Jesus Christ will
keep him, as a shepherd doth his sheep.
" Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise
cast out."

3. " To be cast out," is to be denied a
place in God's house, and to be left as fugi-
tives and vagabonds, to pass a little time
away in this miserable life, and after that
to go down to the dead. Therefore, here
is the benefit of him that cometh to Christ,
he shall not be denied a place in God's
house. They shall not be left hke vaga-
bonds in the world. " Him that cometh to
me, I will in no wise cast out."

132 COME, AXD WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

4. In a word, " To be cast out," is to be
rejected as are the fallen angels: for their
eternal damnation began at their being
cast down from heaven to hell. So then,
" Not to be cast out," is to have a place, a
house and habitation there; and to have a
share in the privileges of elect angels.

These words, therefore, "I will not cast
out,'' will prove great words one day, to
them that come to Jesus Christ.

Secondly, And more particularly:

1. Christ hath everlasting life for him
that Cometh to him, and he shall never per-
ish: "for he will in no wise cast him out:"
but for the rest, they are rejected, cast out,
and must be damned.

2. Christ hath everlasting righteousness
to clothe them with, that come to him, and
they shall be covered with it as with a gar-
ment ; but the rest shall be found in the fil-
thy rags of their own stinking pollutions,
and shall be wrapped up in them, as in a
winding sheet, and so bear their shame be-
fore the Lord, and also before the angels.

2. Christ hath precious blood, that, like
an open fountain, stands free tor him to
wash in, that comes to him for life: "and
he will in no wise cast him out :" but they
that come not to him are rejected from a
share therein, and are left to ireful ven-
geance for their sins.

3. Christ hath precious promises, and
they shall have a share in them that come
to him for life; "for he will in no wise cast
them out." But they that come not, can
have no share in them, because they are
true only in him : for in him, and only in
him, all the promises are yea and amen.
Wherefore, they that come not to him, are
no whit the better for ihem.

5. Christ hath also fulness of grace in
himself for them that come to him for life :
"and he will in no wise cast them out."
But those that come not unto him, are left
in their graceless state ; and as Christ
leaves them, death, hell, and judgment,
finds them. "He that findeth me," saith
Christ, "findeth life, and shall obtain favor
of the Lord ; but he that sinneth against
me wrongeth his own soul. All that hate
me, love death."

6. Christ is an intercessor, and ever liv-
eth to make intercession for them that
come to God by him ; " but their sorrows
shall be multiplied, that hasten after anoth
er" (or other) " gods," (their sins and lusts.)
" Their drink-offerings will he not suffer.
nor take up their names into his lips."

7. Christ hath wonderful love, bowels,
and compassion, for those that come to him
for " he will in no wise cast them out."
But the rest will find him a lion rampant ;
he will one day tear them all to pieces.
"Now consider this," saith he, "ye tliat

forget God, lest I tear you in pieces, and
there be none to deliver you."

8. Christ is known by, and for his sake
those that come to him have their persons
and performances accepted of the Father:
" and he will in no wise cast them out ;'
but the rest must fly to the rocks and moun-
tains for shelter, but all in vain, to hide
them from his face and wrath.

But again ; these words, cast out, have a
special look to what will be hereafter, even
at the day of judgment : for then, and not
till then, will be the great anathema and
casting out made manifest, even manifest
by execution. Therefore here to speak to
this, and that under these two heads : as, L
Of the casting out itself; 2. Of the place
into which they shall be cast, that shall
then be cast out.

First, the casting out itself standeth in
two things :

1. In a preparatory work.

2. In the manner of executing the act.
The preparatory work standeth in these

three things :

1. It standeth in their separation that
have not come to him, from them that have
at that day. Or thus ; at the day of the
great casting out, those tliat have not, now,
come to him, shall be separated from them
that have ; for them that have, " he will not
cast out." " When the Son of Man shall
come in his glory, and all his holy angels
with him, then he shall sit upon the throne
of his glory, and before him shall be gath-
ered all nations, and he shall separate them
one from another, as a shepherd divideth
the sheep from the goats."

This dreadful separation therefore shall
then be made betwixt them that, now, come
to Christ, and them that come not : and
good reason ; for since they would not with
us come to him, now they have time ; why
should they stand with us, when judgment
is come ?

2. They shall be placed before him ac-
cording to their condition ; they that have
come to him, in great dignity, even at his
right hand; "for he will in no wise cast
them out ;•' but the rest shall be set at his
left hand, the place of disgrace and shame ;
for they did not come to him for life.

Distinguished also shall they be by fit
terms ; these that come to him he calleth
the sheep, but the rest are frowish goats,
" and he shall separate them one from
another, as the shepherd divideth the sheep
from the goats : and the sheep will be set
on the right hand," (next heaven gate, for
they came to him,) "but the goats on the
left ;" to go from him into hell, because they
are not of his sheep.

3. Then will Christ proceed to convic-
tion of those that came not to him, and will

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 183

say, " I was a stranger, and ye took me not
in," or did not come unto me. Their ex-
cuse of themselves he will slight as dirt,
and proceed to their final judgment

Now when these wretched rejectors of
Christ shall thus be set before him in their
sins, and convicted, this is the preparatory
work upon which follows the manner of ex-
ecuting the act which will be done.

1. In the presence of all the holy angels

2. In the presence of all them that in
their lifetime came to him, by saying unto
them, " Depart from me, ye cursed, into
everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and
his angels," with the reason annexed to it;
for you were cruel to me and mine, partic-
ularly discovered in these words : " For I
was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat ;
thirsty, and ye gave me no drink ; I was a
stranger, and ye took me not in; naked,
and ye clothed me not ; sick, and in prison,
and ye visited me not."

Secondly, Now it remains that we speak
of the place into which these shall be cast,
which in the general you have heard al-
ready, to wit, the fire prepared for the devil
and his angels. But, in particular, it is
thus described :

1. It is called Tophet : " For Tophet is
ordained of old, yea, for the king," the Lu-
cifer, " it is prepared ; he hath made it
deep and large, the pile thereof is fire and
much wood ; the breath of the Lord like a
stream of brimstone doth kindle it."

2. It is called Hell. " It is better for thee
to enter into life, halt or lame, than having
two feet to be cast into hell."

3. It is called " the wine-press of the
wrath of God." And the angel thrust in
his sickle into the earth, and gathered the
vine of the earth, (that is, them that did
not come to Christ,) and cast them out into
the great wine-press of the wrath of God.
Rev. xiv. 19.

4. It is called " a lake of fire." And
whatsoever was not found written in the
book of life, was cast into the lake of fire.
Rev. XX. 15.

5. It is called a pit. " Thou hast said in
thy heart, I will ascend to heaven, I will
exalt my throne above the stars of God, I
will sit also upon the mount of the congre-
gation, in the sides of the north. Yet thou
sluilt be brought down to hell, to the sides
of the pit."

6. It is called "a bottomless pit, out of
which the smoke and tiie locust came, and in-
to which the great dragon was cast:" and it is
called bottomless, to show tlie endlessness
of tiie fall that they will have into it, that
come not in the acceptable time to Jesus
Ciirist.

7. It is called "outer darkness." "Bind
him hand and foot, and cast him into outer
darkness, and cast ye the unprofitable ser-

vant into outer darkness, there shall be
weeping and gnashing of teeth."

8. It is called " a furnace of fire." Aa
therefore the lares are gathered and burn-
ed in the fire, so shall it be in the end of this
world: the Son of man shall send forlh his
angels, and he shall gather out of his king-
dom all things that offend, and them that
do iniquity, and shall cast them into a fur-
nace of fire ; there shall be wailing and
gnashing of teeth. And again, So shall it
be in the end of the world ; the angels
shall come forth and sever the wicked from
among the just, and shall cast them into a
furnace of fire ; there shall be wailing and
gnashing of teeth. Matt xiii. 41 — 51.

Lastly, It may not be amiss, if in the
conclusion of this, I show in a few words,
to what the things that torment them in this
state, are compared. Indeed some of them
have been occasionally mentiond already ;
as that they are compared,

1. To wood that burneth.

2. To fire.

3. To fire and brimstone. But,

4. It is compared to a worm, to a gnaw-
ing worm, a never-dying gnawing worm :
" They are cast into hell, where their worm
dieth not"

5. It is called " unquenchable fire :" " He
will gather his wheat into his garner ; but
will burn up the chaff with unquenchable
fire."

6. It is called " everlasting destruction."
The Lord Jesus shall descend from heaven
with his mighty angels in flaming fire,
taking vengeance on them that know not
God, and that obey not the gospel of our
Lord Jesus Christ, who shall be punished
with everlasting destruction from the pres-
ence of the Lord, and from the glory of his
power. Thes. i. 7, 8.

7. It is called "wrath without mixture,"
and is given them in the cup of his indig-
nation. " If any man worship the beast,
and his image, and receive the mark in his
forehead, or in his hand, the same shall
drink of the wrath of God which is poured
out without mixture, in the cup of his in-
dignation, andhe shall be tormented with fire
and brimstone, in the presence of the holy
angels, and in the presence of the Lamb."

8. It is called "The second death."
And death and hell were cast into the

lake of fire ; this is the second death.
Blessed and holy is he that hath part in
the first resurrection ; on such the second
death hath no power."

9. It is called " eternal damnation."
" But he that shall blaspheme against the
Holy Ghost, hath never forgiveness, but in
danger of eternal damnation."

Oh ! these three words !
" Everlasting punishment !'*
" Eternal damnation I"

1S4 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

And, " For ever and ever !"

How Avill they gnaw and eat up all the
expectation of the misery of the cast-away
sinners ! " And ihe smoke of llieir torment
ascended up for ever and ever ; and they
have no rest day nor niglit," &c.

Their behavior in hell is set forth by
four things, as I know of; 1. By calling for
help and relief in vain : 2. By weeping :
3. By wailing: 4. By gnashing of teeth.

And now we come to the second thing
that is to be inquired into ; namely, How
it appears that Christ hath power to save,
or to cast out ; for by these words, " I will
in no wise cast out," he declareth that he
hath power to do both.

Now tliis inquiry admits us to search in-
to two things: 1. How it appears that he
hath power to save ; 2. How it appears
that he hath power to cast out

That he hath power to save, appears by
that which follows :

1. To speak only of him as he is media-
tor ; he was authorized to this blessed
work by his Father, before the world be-
gan. Hence the apostle said, " He hath
chosen us in him, before the Ibundation of
the world," with all those things that eti'ect-
ually will produce our salvation. Read
the same chapter, with 2 Tim. i. 9.

2. He was promised to our first parents,
that he should, in the fulness of time, bruise
the serpent's head ; and, as Paul expounds
it. redeem them that were under the law :
hence, since that time, he hath been reck-
oned as slain for our sins. By which
means all the fathers under the first testa-
ment were secured from the wrath to come ;
hence he is called, "The Lamb slain from
the foundation of the world."

3. Moses gave testimony of him by the
types and shadows, and bloody sacrifices,
that he commanded from the mouth of God,
to be in use to the support of his people's
faith, until the time of reformation ; which
was the time of this Jesus his death. Heb.
9th and 10th chap.

At the time of his birth it was testified
of him by the angel, " That he should save
his people from their sins."

5. It is testified of him in the days of
his flesh, that he had power on earth to for-
give sins.

6. It is testified also of him by the Apos-
tle Peter : " That God hath exalted liim
with his own right hand, to be a Prince and
a Saviour, to give repentance to Israel,
and forgiveness of sins."

7. In a word, this is every where testified
of both in the Old Testament and in the
New.

And good reason that he should be ac-
knowledged and trusted in as a Saviour.

\. He came down from heaven to be a
Saviouf.

2. He was anointed when on earth to be
a Saviour.

3. He did the works of a Saviour. As,
L He fulfilled the law, and became the

end of it for righteousness, for them that
believe in him.

2. He laid down his life as a Saviour ;
he gave his life as a ransom for many.

3. He hath abolished death, destroyed
the devil, put away sin, got the keys of hell
and death, ascended into heaven ; is there
accepted of God, and did sit at the right
hand as a Saviour ; and that because his
sacrifice for sins pleased God.

4. God hath sent out and proclaimed
him as a Saviour, and tells the world that
we have redemption through his blood,
that he wnll justify us, if we believe in his
blood, and that he can faithfully and justly
do it. Yea, God doth beseech us to be
reconciled to him by his Son ; which could
not be, if he were not anointed by him to
this very end, and also if his works and un-
dertakings were not accepted of him, con-
sidered as a Saviour.

God hath already received millions of
souls into his paradise, because they have
received this Jesus for a Saviour ; and is
resolved to cut them off, and to cast them
out of his presence, that will not take him
for a Saviour.

I intend brevity here ; therefore a word
to the second, and so conclude.

How it appears that he hath power to
cast out.

This appears also by what follows :

1. The Father, (for the service that he
had done him as a Saviour,) hath made
him Lord of all, even Lord of quick and
dead. " For to this end, Christ both died,
and rose, and revived, that he might be
Lord both of the dead and living."

2. The Father hath left it with him to
quicken whom he will, to wat, with saving
grace, and to cast out whom he will, for
their rebellion against him.

3. The Father hath made him judge of
quick and dead, hath committed all judg-
ment unto the Son, and appointed that all
should honor the Son, even as they honor
the Father.

4. God will judge the world by this man :
the day is appointed for judgment, and he
is appointed for judge. " He hath appoint-
ed a day in tlie which he will judge the
world in righteousness, by that man."

Therefore we must all appear before the
judgment-scat of Christ, that every one
may receive for the things done in the body,
according to what they have done. If they
have closed with him, heaven and salva-
tion ; if they have not, hell and damnation.
And for these reasons he must be judge :
1. Becau.se of his humiliation; because
of his Father's word he humbled himself^

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. Ig5

and he became obedient unto death, even
the death of the cross : " Therefore God
hath exalted him, and given him a name
above every name ; that at the name of
Jesus every Icnee shall bow ; both of things
in heaven, and things on earth, and things
under tlie earth ; and that every tongue
should confess, that Jesus Christ is the
Lord, to the glory of God the Father."

This hath respect to his being judge,
and his sitting in judgment upon angels
and men.

2. That all men might honor the Son,
even as they honor the Father. " For the
Father judgeth no man, but hath commit-
ted all judgment unto the Son ; that all
men should honor the Son, even as they
honor the Father."

3. Because of his righteous judgment,
this work is fit for no creature ; it is only
fit for the Son of God. For he will reward
everv man according to his ways.

4. Because he is the Son of man. He
hath given him authority to execute judg-
ment also, because he is the Son of man.

Thus have I in brief passed through this
text by way of explication. My next work
is to speak to it by way of observation :
but I shall be also as brief in that as the
nature of the thing will admit.

All that the Father giveth me shall come
to me, and him that cometh to me I will in
no wise cast out. — John vi. 37.

And now I come to some observations,
and a little briefly to speak to them, and
then conclude the whole.

The words thus explained, afford us ma-
ny, some of which are these :

1. That God the Father, and Christ his
Son, are two distinct persons in tlie God-
head.

2. That by them, (not excluding the Ho
ly Ghost,) is contrived and determined the
salvation of fallen mankind.

3. That this contrivance resolved itself
into a covenant between these persons in
the Godhead, which standeth in giving on
the Father's part, and receiving on the
Son's. " All that the Fatlier giveth me."

&C.

4. That every one that the Father hath
given to Christ (according to the mind of
God in the text) shall certainly come to
him.

5. That coming to Jesus Christ is there
fore not by the will, wisdom, or power of
man : but by the gift, promise, and draw
ing of the Father: "All that the Father
giveth me shall come."

6. That Jesus Christ will be careful to
receive, and will not in any wise reject
those that come, or are coming to him.
" And him that cometh to me, I will in no
wise cast out."

Vol. 3.— X.

There are, besides these, some other
truths implied in the words. As,

7. They that are coming to Jesus Christ,
are ofttimes heartily afraid that he will not
receive them.

3. Jesus Christ would not have them,
that in truth are coming to him, once think
that he will cast them out.

These observations lie all of them in the
words, and are plentifully confirmed by the
scriptures of truth ; but I shall not at this
time speak to them all, but shall pass by
the first, second, third, fourth, and sixth,
partly because I design brevity, and partly
because they are touched upon in the ex-
plicatory part of the text. I shall therefore
begin with the fifth observation, and so
make that first in order in the following
discourse.

1. First, then coming to Christ is not by
the will, wisdom, or power of man, but by the
gift, promise and drawing of the Fatlier.
This observation standeth of two parts,

1. The coming to Christ is not by the
will, wisdom, or power of man:

2. But by the gift, promise, and drawing
of the Father.

That the text carrieth this truth in its
bosom, you will find if you look into the
explication of the first part thereof before ;
I shall therefore here follow the method
propounded, viz. show,

1. That coming to Christ is not by the
will, wisdom, or power of man. This is
true, because the word doth positively say
it is not.

First. It denieth it to be the will of man,
" Not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh,
nor of the will of man." And again, " It
is not of him that willeth, nor of him that
runneth."

Second. It denieth it to be of the wisdom
of man, as is manifest from these consid-
erations :

1. In the wisdom of God it pleased him,
that the world by wisdom should not know
him. Now if by their wisdom they cannot
know him, it follows, by that wisdom they
cannot come unto him ; for coming to him,
is not before, but after some knowledge of
him.

2. The wisdom of man in God's account
as to the knowledge of Christ, is reckoned
foolishness. " Hath not God made foolish
the wisdom of this world :" and again,
" The wisdom of this world is foolishness
with God."

If God hath made foolish the wisdom of
this world ; and again, if the wisdom of
this world is foolishness with him, then ver-
ily it is not likely, that by that a sinner shall
become so prudent, as to come to Jesus
Christ, especially if you consider,
i S.That the doctrine of a crucified Christ,
'and so of salvation b3' him, is liie

lg(3 COME, AND WELCOMEi, TO JESUS CHRIST.

▼ery tiling that is counted foolislmess to
the wisdom oi' tlic world. Now. if tlic ve-
ry doctrine of a crucified Clirist be count-
ed foolishness by the wi.^doni of tliis world,
it cannot be that by tliat wisdom a man
should be drawn oat in his sonl to come to
him.

4. God counted the wisdom of tliisAvorld
one of his greatest enemies ; therefore by
that wisdom no man can conic to Jesus
Christ. For it is not likely tliat one of
God'.s greatcsst enenTJes .should draw a man
to that which best of all pleasctii God, as
coming to Christ doth. Now, that God
cou!iteth the Avisdom of this world one of
his greatest enemies, is evident,

1. For that it castcth the greatest con
tempt upon his Son's undertaUinsr. afore is
proved, in that it counts iiis crncilixion Ibol-
ishness ; though that 1x3 one of the highest
demonstrations of divine wisdom.

2. Because God hath threatened (o des-
troy it. and bring it to nought, and cause
it to perish ; which surely he would not do,
was it not an enemy, would it direct men
to, and cause them to close Avith Jesus
Chrisf.

3. He hath rejected it from helping in the
ministry oC his Avord, as a fruitless business,
and a thing that comes to nougbt.

4. Because it canseth to perish those
that seek it and pursue it.

5. And God hath proclaimed, that if any
man Avill be wise in this world, he must be
a ibol in the Avistlom of tliis world, and that
is the Avay to be Avise in the Avisdom ol'
God. '• If any man Avill be Avise in this
world, let him become a fool, that he may
be Avise. For the Avisdom of this Avorld is
foolishness Avith God."

Thirdly. Coming to Christ is not by the
power of man. This is evident, partly,

1. From that Avhich goeth before : for
man's power, in the putting forth of it, in
this matter, is either stirred up Avith love,
or sense of necessity ; but the Avisdom of
this Avorld neither gives man love to, or
sense of a need of Jesus Christ : therefore
his power lietli still, as from that.

2. What poAver has he that is dead, as
every natural man spiritually is, CA'en dead
in trespasses and sins? Dead, even as
dead to God's New Testament things, as
he that is in his graA'c is dead to the things
of this Avorld. What power has he then,
wherebA?^ fo come to Jesus Christ?

3. God forbids the mighty man's glory
in liis sfrenirth ; and says positively, " By
strength shall no man prevail:" and again.
"Not by might, nor by poAver, but by my
Spirit, saith the Lord."

4. Paul acknow!cilL''eth that man. nay.
converted man, of hiinsi'lt! hath not a suiVi-
ciency of power in himself to think a good
thought ; if not to do that which is least,

for to think is less than to come ; no man
by his own power can come to Jesus Chri.st.

5. Hence Ave are said to be made willing
to come, by the power of God : to be rai.s-
ed from a .'state of sin to a state o\' grace,
by the power of God; and to bi-licvf. that
is, to come, through the exceeding working
of liLs mighty power.

But this needeth not, if cither man liad
power or Avill to come, or so much as gra-
ciously to think of being Avilling to come
(of themselves) to Jesus Christ.

I slioidil now come to the power of the
second part of th« observation, but that ia
occa-sionally done already, in the explicato-
ry part of the text ; to which I refer tlie
reader: for 1 shall here only give thee one
or two more to the same ])urpose, and so
come to the use and application.

1. It is expressly .said, '• No man can
come unto me, except the Father, which
hath sent me, draw him. By this text
there is not only insinoated, that in m;ui
is want of power, but of will, to come to
Jesus Christ: they roust be draAvn ; they
come not if they be not draAvn. And ob-
serve, it is not man, no, nor all the angel.s
ol' heaven, that can draAV one sinner to Jc^
sus Christ. "No man can come to me,
except the Father, which hatJi sent me,
draw liim."

2. i-\g;iin, "No man can come to mo,
except it Avere given him of my Father."'
It is an heavenly gift that maketh man con»e
to Je.sus Christ.

3. Again, "It is Avritten in the prophets,
they shall be all taught of God ; every
one therefore that hath heard and learni:d
of the Father, cometh to me."

I shall not enlarge, but shall make scwne
use and application, and so come to the
next obserA'ation.

1. Is it so ? Is coming to Jesus Christ,
not by the AA'ill, Avistlom, or power of mai^
but by the gift, promise, and draAA'ing of
the Father? Then they are to blame'tliat
cry up the Avill, Avisdom. and power of man,
as things .sulficii^nt to bring men to Christ.

There are some men Avho think they
may not be contradicted, when they pli;ad
for the Avill, wisdom, and power of man in
reference to the things tliat are of the king-
dom of Christ: but 1 will say to such a
man, he never yet came to understand,
tiiat himself is, what the .scripture teaclietli
concerning him : neither did he ever know
what comiiiii to CIn-ist is by the teach-
ing gift, and (IrawiniT of the Father. He
is such a one th;it hath set u;i God's enemy
in opposition to him, and that continueth in
sucii acts ot" defiance; and Avliat his end
without a new birth. Avil! be, the scripture
teaolieth also : but aa'C Avill pass this.

2. is it so ? Is conung to Jesus Christ, by
the gill, promise, and uraAVihg of the Fath-

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. Ig7

er? Then let saints here learn to ascribe
thoir oeniiiig to Christ, to the gilt, promise,
and drawing of the Father. Christian
man, Ido.ss God, Avho hath given thee to
Jesus Chris^t, by promise ; and again bless
God for that lie hath drawn thee to him.
And why is it thee? Why not another?
O that the glory of electing love should
rest upon tiiy head, and that the glory of
the exceeding grace of God should take
hold of tliy heart, and bring thee to Jesu.s
Christ!

3. Is it so, that coming to Jesus Christ,
is by tiiy Father, as atbresaidi Then this
should teach us to set a higli esteem upon
them that are indeed coming to Jesus
Christ : I say, a high esteem on them, for
the sake of him, by virtue of whose grace
they are made to come to Jesus Christ.

We see that when men by the help of
humau abilities, do arrive at the knowledge
of, and bring to pass that whicli, when done,
is a wonder to the world, how he that did
it is esteemed and commended : yea, how
are liis wits. ])arts, industry, and unwea-
riedne&? in all, admired 5 and yet the man,
as to this, is but of the world, and his work
the effect of natural ability: tlic things al-
so attained by him end in vanity and vex-
ation of spirit. Further, perhaps in the
pursuit of these liis a-ehievements, he sins
against God. wastes liis time vainly, and at
long run. loses his soul by neglecting of bet-
ter things : yet he is admired ! But I say, if
this man's parts. l;vbor, diligence, and the
like, will bring him to such applause and
esteem in the world, what esteem should
We have of such an one. that is, by the gift,
promise, and power of God, coming to Je-
sus Christ ?

1. This is a man with which God is, in
whom God works and w^alks ; a man whose
motion is governed and steered by the
mighty hand of God, and the effectual
working of his power: here's a man!

2. This man, by the power of God's
might which worketh in him, is able to cast
a whole world behind him, with all the lusts
and pleasures of it; and to charge through
all the difficulties that men and devils can
set against him : here's a man !

3. This man is travelling to Mount Zion,
the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living
God, and to an innumerable companj' of an-
gels, and the spirits of just men made per-
fect, to God the judge of all, and to Jesus:
here's a man !

4. This man can look upon death with
o.omfort, can laugh at destruction when it
Cometh, and long to hear the sound of
the last trump, and to see the judge coming
in the clouds of heaven : here's a man in-
deed !

Let Christians then esteem each other as
euch : I know you do ; but do it more and

more. And that you may consider these
two or three things :

1. These are the objects of Christ's es-
teem. Matt. xii. 4S: chap. xv. 22—29;
Luke vii. 9.

2. These are the objects of the esteem
of angels. Dun. ix. 12; cliap. x. 11; and
xii. 4 ; Heb. i, 14.

3. These liave been the objects of the
esteem of heathens, when but convinced
about them, Dan. v. 10 ; Acts. v. 15 ; 1
Cor. xiv. 24, 25.

" Let each of you then esteem each oth-
er better than themselves." Phil. iii. 2.

4. Again, Is it so, that no man comes to
Jesus Christ, by the will, wisdom, and pow-
er of man, but by the gift, power, and draw-
ing of the Father ? Then this shows us
how horribly ignorant of this such are,
who make the men that are conn'ng to
Christ the object of their contempt and
rage. These are also unreasonable and
wicked men : '• Men in whom is no taith."
1 Thess. iii. 2.

Sinners, did you but know what a bless-
ed thing it is to come to Jesus Christ, and
that by the lielp and drawing of the Fath-
er they do indeed come to him, you would
hang and burn in hell a thousands years
before you would turn your spirits as you
do, against him that God is drawing to Je-
sus Christ, and also against the God that
draws him.

But, faithless sinner, let us a little expos-
tulate the matter. What hath this man
done against thee, that is coming to Jesus
Christ '? Why dost thou make him the ob-
ject of thy scorn 7 Dotli his coming to Je-
sus Christ offend thee ? Doth his pursuing
of his own salvation offend thee ? I)(jth
his forsalung of his sins and pleasures of-
fend thee ?

Poor coming man ! '■ Thou sacrificeth
the abominations of the Egyptians before
their eyes, and will they not stone thee ?"

But I say, why offended at this ? Is he
ever the worse for coming to Jesus Christ,
or for loving and serving of Jesus Christ,
or is he ever the more a fool, lor flying
from that which will drown thee in hell-fire,
and for seeking eternal life ? Besides, pray
sirs, consider it ; this he doth not of him-
self, but by the drawing of the Father,
Come, let me tell thee in tliine ear, thoxi
that wilt not come to him thyself, ajid him
that would, thou hinderest.

1. Thou shalt be judged for one that
hath hated, maligned, and reproached Je-
sus Christ, to whom this poor sinner is com-
ing.

2. Thou shalt be judged too, for one
that hath hated the Father, by whose pow-
erful drawing the sinner dotli come.

3. Thou slialt be taken, and judged, for
one that hath done despite to the Spirit of

188 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST,

grace in him, tliat is by its help coming to
Jesus Christ. What saycst thou now?
Wih thou stand by thy doin^rs ? WiU thou
continue to contemn and reproach the hv-
ing God ? Thinkest thou tliat tiiou slialt
weather it out well enough at the day of
judgment ? " Can thy heart endure, or can
thy hands be strong, in tlie day that I shall
de"al with tliee, saith the Lord '?"

4. Is it so, tliat no man comes to Jesus
Christ by the will, wisdom, and power ot'
man, but" by the gift, promise, and drawing
of the Father? Then this showeth us
how it comes to pass, that weak means
are so powerful as to bring men ont of
their sins, to a hearty pursuit after Jesus
Christ. When God bid Moses speak to
the people, he said, " I will speak with
thee." When God speaks, when God
works, who can let it? None, none ; then
the Avork goes on. Elias threw his mantle
upon the shoulders of Elisha ; and what a
wonderful work followed ! When Jesus
fell in with the crowing of a cock, what
work was there ? O when God is in the
means, then shall that means, be it never
so weak and contemptible in itself, work
wonders. 1 Kings xix. 19; Matt. xxvi.
74, 75; Mark xiv. 71, 72; Luke xxii. 61,
62.

The world understood not, nor believed,
that the walls of Jericho shall fall at the
sound of ram's horns : but when God will
worl<, the means must be effectual. A
word weakly spoken, spoken with difficulty,
in temptation, and in the midst of great
contempt and scorn, works wonders, if the
Lord thy God will say so too.

5. Is it so? Doth no man come to Jesus
Christ by the will, wisdom, and power of
man, but by the gift, promise, and drawing
of the Father? Then here is room for
Christians to stand and wonder at the effec-
tual working of God's providence, that he
hath made use of, as means to bring them
to Jesus Christ.

For although men are drawn to Christ
by the power of the Father, yet that power
putteth forth itself in the use of means ;
and these means are diverse, sometimes
this, sometimes that ; for God is at liberty
to work, by which, and when, and how he
will ; but let the means be what they will,
and as contemptible as may be ; yet God
that commanded the light to shine out of
darkness, and that out of weakness can
make strong, can, nay, doth oftentimes, make
use of every unlikely means to bring about
the conversion and salvation of his people.
Therefore you that are come to Christ, (and
by unlikely means,) stay yourselves, and
wonder, and wondering, magnify almighty
power, by the work of which the means
hath been made effectual to bring you to
Jeeus Christ.

What was the providence that God made
use otj as a means either remote, or more
near, to bring thee to Jesus Christ? Was
it the removing of thy habitation, the change
of thy condition, the loss of relations, estate,
or the like ? Was it the casting of thine
eye upon some good book, the hearing of
thy neighbore talk of heavenly things, the
beholding of God's judgment as executed
upon others, or thine own deliverance I'rom
them, or thy being strangely cast uilder the
ministry of some godly man ? O take no-
tice of such providence or providences !
They were sent and managed by mighty
power to do thee good. God himself, I
say, hath joined himself to this chariot;
yea, and so blessed it, that it failed not to
accomplish the thing for which he sent it.

God blesseth not to every one his provi-
dence in this manner. How many thou-
sands are there in this world, that pass
every day under the same providences J
but God is not in them, to do that work by
them as he hath done for thy poor soul, by
his effectually working with them, O that
Jesus Christ should meet thee in this prov-
idence, that dispensation, or the other ordi-
nance ! This is grace indeed ! At this,
therefore, it wilt be thy wisdom to admire,
and for this to bless God.

Give me leave to give you a taste of
some of those providences that have been
effectual, through the management of God,
to bring salvation to the souls of liis people.

1. The first shall be that of the woman
of Samaria. It must happen, that she
must needs go out of the city to draw wa-
ter (not before or after, but) just when Je-
sus Christ her Saviour was come from far,
and sat to rest him (being weary) upon the
well. What a blessed providence was this 1
Even a providence managed by the al-
mighty wisdom, and almighty power, to the
conversion and salvation of this poor crea-
ture. For by this providence was this poor
creature and her Saviour brought together,
that a blessed work might be fulfilled upon
the woman, according to the purpose before
determined of tlie Father. John iv.

2. What providence was it, that there
should be a tree in the way for Zaccheus
to climb, thereby to give Jesus opportunity
to call that chief of the publicans home to
himself, even before he came down there-
from.

3. Was it not wonderful, that the thief^
which you read of in the go.spel, should, by
the providence of God, be cast into prison,
to be condemned, even at that sessions that
Christ himself was to die ; nay, and that it
should happen too, that they must be hang-
ed together, that the thief might be in
hearing and observing of Jesus in his last
words, that he might be converted by him
before his death ? Luke xxii.

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 189

4. What a strange providence was it,
and as strangely managed by God, that
Onesimus, when he was run away trom his
master, should be taken, as I think, and
cast into that very prison where Paul lay
bound for the word of the gospel ; that he
might there be by him converted, and then
sent home again to his master Philemon !
" Behold, all things work together for good,
to them that love God ; to them who are
the called according to his purpose."

Nay, I have myself known some that
have been made to go to hear the word
preached against their wills ; others have
gone not to hear, but to see and be seen ;
nay, to jeer and flout others, as also to
catch and carp at things. Some also to
feed their adulterous eyes with the sight of
beautiful objects ; and yet God hath made
use of even these things, and even of the
wicked and sinful proposals of sinners, to
bring them under the grace that might save
their souls.

7. Doth no man come to Jesus Christ,
but by the drawing, &c. of the Father?
Then let me here caution those poor sin-
ners, that are spectators of the change that
God hath wrought in them that are coming
to Jesus Christ, not to attribute tliis work
and change to other things and causes.

There are some poor sinners in the
world, that plainly see a change, a mighty
change, in their neighbors and relations
that are coming to Jesus Christ. But as I
said, they being ignorant, and not knowing
whence it comes, and whither it goes, " for
so is every one that is born of the Spirit,"
therefore they attribute this change to other
causes: as, 1. Melancholy; 2. To sitting
alone; 3. To overmuch reading; 4. To
their going to too many sermons ; 5. To
too much studying, and musiug on what
they hear.

Also, they conclude on the other side,

1. That it is for want of merry company.

2. For want of physic, and therefore
they advise them to leave off reading, go-
ing to sermons, the company of sober peo-
ple, and to be merry, and go a gossiping,
to busy themselves in the things of this
world ; not set musing alone, &.c.

But come, poor ignorant sinner, let me
deal with thee. It seems thou art turned
counsellor for Satan: I tell thee, thou
knowest not what thou dost. Take heed
of spending thy judgment after this man-
ner; thou judgest foolishly, and sayest in
this, to every one that passeth by, thou art
a fool.

What ! count convictions for sin, mourn
ing for sin, and repentance for sin, melan
choly ! This is like those that on the other
side said, " These men are drunk with new
wine," &c. Or, as he hath said, Paul was
mad. Acts ii. 23 ; and xxvi. 24.

Poor ignorant sinner ! canst thou judge
no better 1 What ! is sitting alone, pensive
under God's hand, reading the scriptures,
and hearing of sermons, &c. the way to be
undone 1 The Lord open thine eyes, and
make thee to see thine error : thou hast set
thyself against God, thou hast despised the
operations of his hands, thou attemptest to
murder souls. What? canst thou give no
better counsel touching those whom God
hath wounded, than to send them to the or-
dinances of hell for help? Thou biddest
them be merry and lightsome ; but dost
thou not know, that " the heart of fools is in
the house of laughter?"

Thou biddest them shun the hearing of
thundering preachers : " But is it not better
to hear the rebuke of the wise, than for a
man to hear the song of fools?" Thou
biddest them busy themselves in the things
of this world ; but dost thou not know that
the Lord bids, " First seek the kingdom of
God, and the righteousness thereof?"

Poor ignorant sinner, hear the counsel of
God to such, and learn thyself to be wiser.
" Is any afflicted ? let him pray : Is any
merry ? let him sing psalms. Blessed is he
that heareth me ; and heareth for time to
come. Save yourselves from this untoward
generation. Search the scriptures ; give
attendance to reading. It is better to go to
the house ol' mourning."

And wilt thou judge him that doth thus?
Art thou almost like EUmas the sorcerer,
that sought to turn the deputy from the
faith ? Thou seekest to pervert the right
ways of the Lord : take heed lest some
heavy judgment overtake thee. Acts xiii.
8—13.

What ! teach men to quench convictions ;
take men off' from a serious consideration
of the evil of sin, of the terrors of the
world to come, and how they shall escape
the same ? What ! teach men to put God
and his word out of their minds, by running
to merry company, by running to the world,
by gossiping, &c. ? This is as much as
to bid them say to God, " Depart from us,
for we desire not the knowledge of thy ways ;
or, what's the Almighty, that we should
serve him ? or, what profit have we, if we
keep his ways ?" Here is a devil in grain !
What ! bid a man walk " according to the
course of this world, according to the prince
of the power of the air, the spirit that now
w^orketh in the children of disobedience ?"

Objection. But we do not know that
such are coming to Jesus Christ ; truly we
wonder at them, and think they are fools.

Answer. 1. Do you not know they are
coming to Jesus Christ ? then they may be
coming to him, for aught you Imow ; and
why will you be worse than the brute, to
speak evil of the things you know not?
What, are you made to be taken and de-

190 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

stroyeJ? must ye iiltcrly pi'ri.sh in your
own corruptions?

2. Uo you not know tlicni ? Let tlioni
iilonc then. It" you ranuDt spcuk good of
them, speak not [);ul ; •• lietVain from llu'«e
men. ami let them alone ; lor if this coun-
sel, or this work, be of men. it will conic to
nought: but if it be of God, ye cannot
overthrow it, lest haply ye he found even to
tight against God.""

'A. But why do you wonder at a work of
eouvietion and conversion ? Know you not
that this is the judgment of God upon you,
ye des])isers. '• to behoKl. and wonder, and
perish P

4. But why wonder, and think they are
fools .' Is the way of the just an abomina-
tion to you? See that passage, and be
ashamed, "He that is upright in the way,
is an abomination to the wicked."

5. Your wondering at them argue.s that
you are strangers to yourselves, to convic-
tion for sin, and to hearty desires to be
saved ; as also coming to .Tesus Christ.

Ohjccliim. But how shall we know that
such men are coming to .Tesus Christ ?

Aii>iwt'r. Who can make them see that
Christ has made blind ? Nevertheless, be-
cause I endeavor thy conviction, conversion,
and salvation, consider,

1. Do they cry out of sin, being burdened
with it, as an exceeding bitter thing ?

2. Do they fly from it, as t"rom the face
of a diuidly serpent ?

3. Do they cry out of tlie insufficiency of
their own righteovi-sness. as to justification
in the sight of God?

■4. Do they cr}^ out after the Lord Jesus
1o save them ?

5. Do they see more worth and merit in
one drop of Christ's blood to save them,
than in all the sins of thi; world to damn
them ?

6. Are they tender of sinning against
Jesus Christ?

7. Is his name, person, and understand-
ings, more precious to them, than is the
glory of the world ?

8. Is this world more dear unto them ?

9. Is faith in Christ {o[' which they are
convinced by God's Spirit of the want of,
and that without it they can never close
with (Mirist) precious to "them?

10. Do they favor Christ in tliis world,
and do they leave all the world for his sake?
And are tliey willing (God helping them)
to run hazards for his name, l"or the love
they bear to him?

11. Are his saints precious to them?

If these things be so, whether thou seesC
them or no, these men are coming to Jesus
Christ,

II. I come now to tjie second observa-
tion propounded to be spoken to, to wit.
That thev that arc coming to Jesus Christ

are ofttimcs heartily afraid that Jesus Christ
will not receive them.

I told you that this observation is implieil
in tlie text; and 1 gather it, 1. From tiic
largeness and openness of" the promise; '"l
will in no wise cast out." For had there
not been a proneness in us to fear casting
out, Christ needeil not to have, as it were,
way-laid our fear, as he doth by this great
and strange expression, •• in no wise ; an<l
Jiim that comcth to me, I will in no wise
cast out." There needed not, as I may
say, such a promise to be invented by the
wisdon\ of lu'aven, and worded at such a
rate, as it were on purpose to dash in pie-
ces at one blow, all the objections of coming
sinners, if they were not prone to admit of
such objections, to the discouraging of tlieir
own souls. For i\uf word, in no wise, cul-
teth the throat of all objections; and it was
dropped by the Lord Jesus for that very
end ; and to help the faith that is mixed
with unbelief".

And it is, as it were, tlie sum of all prom-
ises; neither can any objection be made
upon the unworthiness that thou lindest in
tliee, that this promise will not as.sail.

But I am a great sinner, sayest thou.

/ will in no wine cast nut, says Christ.

But I am an old sinner, sayest thou.

/ Iff'// in no If /.s'f cast out, says Christ.

But 1 am an hard-liearted siimer, sayest
thovi.

/ will in no iiise cant out, says Christ.

But I am a backsliding sinner, sayest
thou.

/ will in no wise cast ont, says Christ.

But I have served Satan ail my days,
sayest thou.

I wiil in no wise cast out, says Christ.

But I have sinned against light, sayest
thou.

I will in no wise cast out, says Christ.

But 1 have sinned against mercy, sayest
thou.

/ will in no wise cast out, says Christ.

But I liave no good thing to bring with
me, sayest thou.

/ will in no wise cast out, says Clirist.

Thus I might go on to the end of things,
and show you, that still this promise was
provided to answer all objections, and doth
answer them. But I say, what need it be,
if they tiiat are coming to Jesus Christ are
not sometimes, yea, oftentimes, heartily
afraid, " that Ji-sus Christ will cast them
out?"

2. I will give you now two instances
that seem to imply the truth of this obser-
vation.

In tJie 9th of MatthcAv, at the second
verse, you read of a man that was sick of
the palsy ; and he was coming to Jesus
Christ, being borne upon a bed by his
j friends ; he was also coming himselfj and

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. |9l

that upon another account than any of his
friends were aware of; even for the pardon
of sins ; and the salvation of his soul.
Now, so soon as ever he was come into the
presence of Christ, Christ bids him •• be of
gwod cheer." It seems then his Iieart was
tainting: but what was the cause of his
fainting? I\ot his bodily iiifirraity, for tlie
cure of which hi.s Iriends did bring him to
Christ; but the guilt and burthen of his
sins, for the pardon of which himself did
come to liim: therelore he proceeds, "Be
of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee."

I say, Christ saw him sinking in his
mind, about how it would go with his most
noble part; and therefore, first, lie applies
himseh to him upon that account. For
though his friends bad faith enough as to
tlie cure of tbe body, yet he himself had
little enough as to the cure of his soul:
therefore Christ takes him up as a man fall-
ing down, sjiying, " Son be of good cheer,
thy sins are forgiven thee."

That aliont tlie pntdtgal seems pertment
also in this matter; "When he was come
- to himself, he said, How many hired ser-
vants of my Fatber have bread enough and
to spare, and I perish for hunger! I will
arise now, and go to my Fntlier." Hearti-
ly spoken ; but how did he perform his
, promise? I tiiitik not so well as he prom-
ised to do, and mv ground for my thoughts
■■ is, because his Father, so su(jn as he was
come to him, fell ujxm his neck, and ki.-.-^ed
him; implying, nu.thinks, as if the prodi-
gal at Ibis time Wiis dejected in his mind
and therefore his Fatlier gives the most
sudden and faiiiili;u' token of reconcilia-
tion.

And kisses were of old time often used to
remove doubts and fears. Thus Laban and
Esau kissed .Jacob: Thus .Joseph kissed his
brethren; and tinis also David kissed Ab-
salom. Gen. XXXV. o5; chap, xxxiii. 1 — 7;
and chap, xlviii, 9, 10; 2 Sam. xiv. 33.

It is true, as I said, at first setting out he
«pake heartily, ns sometimes sinners also do
in their bi-glnning to come to Jesus Christ;
but might not he. yea, in all ])robability he
liad. (between the first step he took, and
tbe last, by whicli he accomplisbcd that
journey,) many a thought, both this w;iy
and that, as whether his father would re-
ceive him or no ? As tbus : I .said. '• I
would go to my Father:" But how, if
when I ciune to him be should ask me.
Where I bave all tliis while been? What
shall I say. then ? Also if lie ask me.
What is become of the portion of goods
that he gave me ? What shall I say then ?
Jt 111! nsk me. Who have been my compan-
ions ? What shall I sav then ? 'if he also
should ask me, Wbai hath been my prefer-
nienl in all the time of mv abseriice from
him? What >:liall I sav then? Yea, and!

if he ask me, Why I came home no sooner ?
What shall 1 say then? Thus, I say,
might he reason with himself; and being
conscious to himsehj that he could give but
a very bad answer to any of these interro-
gatories, no marvel if he stood in nei:d first
of all of a kiss from his Father's lips. For
had he answered the first in truth, he nuist
say, I have been a haunter of taverns and
ale-houses; and as for my portion, I spent
it in riotuos living; my companions were
whores and drabs; as for my preferment,
the highest was, that I became a hogherd ;
and as for my not coming home till now,
could I have made shift to stay abroad ;uiy
longer, I had not been at thy feet lor mercy
now.

1 say these things considered, and con-
sidering again, how prone poor men are to
give way, when truly awakened, to de-
spondings, and heart-misgivings, no niiirvel
if he did sink in his mind, between the time
of his first setting out, and that of his com-
ing to his Father.

3. But, thirdly, niethinks I have, for die
confirmation of this truth, the con.sent ol'all
the saints, that are under heaven, to wit,
That they that are coming to Jesus Christ,
are ofltimes heartily afraid that he will not
receive them.

Question. But what should he the reason ?

1 will answer to this question thus,

1. It is not for the want of the revealed
will of God, that nianifestelh grounds for
the contrary, for of that there is a suliicien-
cy ; yea, the text itself hath laid ;i suliicient
foundation for encouragement, for them that
are coming to Jesus Christ.

" And him that cometh to me, I will in no
wise cast out."

2. It is not for want of any invitation to
come, for that is full and plain : " Come
unto me, all ye ihat labor and are heavy la-
den, and I will give you rest."

3. Neither is it for want of manifestation
of Christ's willingness to receive, as tho.«e
texts above named, with tliat Avhich follows
declareth, "If any man thirst, let Jiim come
unto me and drink."

4. It is not for want of exceeding gre:it
nnd precious promises to receive them that
come. " Wherefore come out from among
them, and be ye separate, sahh the Lord,
and touch not the unclean tliinsi-. and I will
receive you. and I will be a Father inil(*
you, and ye sluill be my sons and danuh-
iers, saith'the Lord Almighty,"

5. It is not for want of solemn oath and
engagcjinent to save them that come : " For
because he could swear by no greater, be
swore by himself, That by two immutable
things, in which it was impossible that God
should lie, we might have strong consola-
tion, who have lied for refuge, to lay hold
on the hope set before us."

192 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST,

6. Neither is it for want of great exam-
ples of God's mercy, that have come to Je-
sus Christ, of which we read most plentifully
in tlic word.

Therefore, it must be concluded, it is for
want of that which follows.

1. It is for want of the knowledge of
Christ. Thou knowest but little of the
grace and kindness that is in the heart of
Christ; thou knowest but little of the virtue
and merit of his blood ! thou knowest but
little of the willingness tliat is in his heart
to save thee ; and this is the reason of the
ftar that ariseth in thy heart, and that caus-
eth thee to doubt, that Christ will not re-
ceive thee. Unbelief is ths daughter of ig-
norance. Therefore Christ saith, " O fools,
and slow of heart to believe."

Slowness of heart to believe, flows from
thy foolishness in the things of Christ : this
is evident to all that are acquainted with
themselves, and are seeking after Jesus
Christ. The more ignorance, the more un-
belief: the more knowledge of Christ, the
more faith. " They that know thy name,
will put their trust in thee." He therefore
that began to come to Christ but the other
day, and hath yet but little knowledge of
him, he fears that Christ will not receive
him. But he that hath been longer ac-
quainted with him, he is " strong, and iiath
overcome the wicked one."

When Joseph's brethren came into Egypt
to buy corn, it is said, "Joseph knew his
brethren, but his brethren knew not him."
What follows? Why, great mistrust of
heart about their speeding well; especially
if Joseph did but answer them rougldy, call-
ing them spies, and questioning their truth
and the like. And observe it, so long as
their ignorance about their brother re-
mained with them, whatsoever Joseph did,
still they put the worst sense upon it : For
instance, Joseph upon a time bids the stew-
ard of his house bring them home to dine
with him, to dine even in Joseph's house :
And how is this resented by them ? Why,
they are afraid : " And the men were
afraid, because they were brought unto"
(their brother) "Joseph's house." And
they said, " He seeketh occasion against us.
and will fall upon us, and take us for bond-
men, and our asses ." What ! afraid to go
to Joseph's house ! He was their brother :
he intended to feast them : to feast them,
and to feast with them. Ah ! but they were
Ignorant that he was their brother: And
80 long as their ignorance lasted, so Ions
their fear terrified them. Just thus it is
with the sinner that but of late is coming to
Jesus Ciirist: He is ignorant of the love
and pity that is in Christ to coming sinners :
Therefore he doubls, therefore he fears,
therefore his heart ini.^gives him.

Coming .sinner, Christ invitetii thee to
dine ai^ J sup with him : he invitcili thee to

a banquet of wine, yea to come into hia
wine-cellar, and his banner over thee shall
be love. Rev. xxx. 20 ; Song ii. 5. But I
doubt it, says the sinner ; but it is answered,
he calls thee, invites thee to his banquet,
flaggons, apples, to his wine, and to the
juice of his pomegranate. O I fear, I
doubt, I mistrust, I tremble in expectation
of the contrary ! Come out of the man,
thou dastardly ignorance. Be not afraid,
sinner, only believe. " He that cometh to
Christ, he will in no wise cast out."

Let the coming sinner therefore seek
after more of the good knowledge of Jesus
Christ : Press after it, seek it as silver, and
dig lor it as for hid treasure. This will em-
bolden thee : this will make thee wax strong-
er and stronger. I know whom I have be-
lieved, " I know him," saith Paul ; and what
follows ? Why, " I am persuaded that he
is able to keep that which 1 have committed
to him against that day."

Wliat had Paul committed to Jesus
Christ? The answer is. He had "com-
mitted to hini his soul." But why did he
commit his soul to him : He knew him to
be faithful, to be kind : He knew he would
not fail him, nor forsake him : and therefore
he laid his soul down at his feet, and com-
mitted it to him, to keep against that day.
But,

2. Thy fears that Christ will not receive
thee, may be also a consequent of thy ear-
nest and strong desires after thy salvation
by him. For this I observe, that strong de-
sires to have, are attended with strong fears
of missing. What man most sets his heart
upon, and what his desires are most after,
he (ofttimes) most fears he shall not obtain.
So the man, ruler of the synagogue, had a
great desire that his daughter should live ;
and that desire was attended with fear, that
she should not : Therefore Christ saith unto
him, " Be not afraid."

Suppose a young man should have his
heart uuich set upon a virgin to have her to
wife, if ever he fears he shah not obtain her,
it is when he begins to love ; now, thinks he,
somebody will step in betwixt my love and
the object of it : either they will find fault
with my person, my estate, my condition,
or something.

Now thoughts begin to work ; she doth
not like me, or something. And thus it is
witli the soul at first coming to Jesus Christ,
thou lovest him, and thy love produces
jealousy, and that jealousy ofttimes begets
fears.

Now thou fearest the sins of thy youth,
the sins of thine old age, the sins of thy call-
ing, the sins of thy Christian duties, the sins of
thi ne heart, or something ; thou thinkest some-
thing or other will alienate the heart and
affections of Jesus Christ from thee ; thou
thinkest he sees someliiing in thee, lor the
sake of which he will refuse thy soul.

•COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. I93

But be content ; a little more knowledge
of him will make thee take better heart 5
thy earnest desires shall not be attended
with such burning fears ; thou shalt hereaf-
ter say, " This is my infirmity."

Thou art sick of love, a very sweet dis-
ease ; and yet every disease has some
weakness attending of it ; yet I wish this
distemper (if it be lawful to call it so) was
more epidemical. Die of this disease, I
would gladly do ; it is better than life it-
self, though it be attended with fears. But
thou criest out, I cannot obtain: well, be
not to ohasty to make conclusions. If Jesus
Christ had not put his finger in at the hole
of the lock, thy bowels would not have been
troubled for him. Song 5. Mark how the

Erophet hath it : " They shall walk after the
lOrd : he shall roar like a lion : when he
shall roar, the children shall tremble from
the west, they shall tremble like a bird out
of Egypt, and as a dove out of the land of
Assyria."

When God roars, (as ofttimes the com
ing soul hears him roar) what man that is
coming, can do otherwise than tremble ?
But trembling he comes ; " He sprang in,
and came trembling, and fell down before
Paul and Silas."

Should you ask him that we ment^oned
but now. How long is it since you began to
fear you should miss of this damsel you
love so ? The answer will be, ever since I
began to love her. But did you not feaa- it
before ? No, nor should I fear now, but
that I vehemently love her. Come, sinner,
let us apply it: How long is it since thou
began to fear that Jesus Christ will not re-
ceive thee ? The answer is, ever since 1
began to desire that he would save my
soul. I began to fear, when I began to
to come, and the more my heart burns in
desires after him, the more I feel my heart
fear I should not be saved by him.

See now, did I not tell thee tliat thy fears
were but the consequence of struiig desires ?
Well, fear not, coming sinner, thousands of
coming souls are in thy condition, and yet
they will get safe into Christ's bosom.
" Say," says Christ, " to them that are of a
fearful heart, be strong, fear not ! Your
God will come and save you."

3. Thy fear that Christ will not receive
thee, may arise from a sense of thy own
unworthiness. Thou seest what a poor,
sorry, wretched, worthless creature thou
art. And seeing this, thou fearest Christ
will not receive thee. Alas, sayest thou, I
am the vilest of all men ; a town sinner, a
ring-leading sinner ! I am not only a sin-
ner myself, but have made others two-fold
worse the children of hell also. Besides,
now I am under some awakenings and
Btirrings of mind after salvation," even now
I find my heart rebellious, carnal, haxd,

Vol 3.— Y.

treacherous, desperate, prone to unbelief^
to despair : it forgetteth the word ; it wan-
dereth ; it runneth to the ends of the earth.
There is not, I am persuaded, one in all
the world, that hath such a desperate wick-
ed heart as mine is. My soul is careless to
do good, but none more earnest to do that
which is evil.

Can such a one as I am live in glory?
Can a holy, a just, and a righteous God,
once think (with honor to his name) of sa-
ving such a vile creature as I am ? I fear
it. Will he show wonders to such a dead
dog as I am ? I doubt it.

I am cast out to the loathing of my per-
son, yea, I loathe myself: I stink in mine
own nostrils. How can I tlien be accepted
by a holy and sin-abhorring God ? Psal.
xxxviii. 5, 6, 7 : Ezek. x. and xx. 42, 43, 44.
Saved I would be ; and who is there that
would not, were they in my condition ?
Indeed, I wonder at the madness and folly
of others, when I see them leap and skip so
carelessly about the mouth of hell. Bold
sinner, how darest thou tempt God, by
laughing at the breach of his holy law 1
But alas ! they fare not so bad one way,
but I am worse another: I wish m3'self were
any body but myself; and yet here again,
I know not what to wJsh. When I see
such as I believe are coming to .Tesus
Christ, O I bless them ! But am confoun-
ded in myself, to see how unlike, as I think,
I am to a very good many in the world.
They can read, hear, pray, remember, re-
pent, be humble, do every thing better than
so vile a wretch as I.

I, vile wretch, am good for nothing, but
to burn in hell-fire, and when I think of
that, I am confounded too.

Thus the sense of unworthiness crcRtes
and heightens fears in the hearts of thera
that are coming to Jesus Christ ; but indeed
it should not: for who needs the physician
but the sick ? or, who did Christ come info
the world to save but the chief of sinners?
Mark i. 17; 1. Tim. i. 15. Wherefore, the
more thou seest thy sins, the faster fly thou
to Jesus Christ, And let the sense of thine
own unworthiness prevail with thee yet to
go faster. As it is with the man that car-
rieth his broken arm in a sling to the bone-
setter, still as he thinks of his broken arm,
and as he feels the pain and anguish, he
hastens his pace to the man; and if Satan
meets thee, and asketh, whither goest thou ?
tell him thou art maimed, and art going to
the Lord Jesus. If he objects thine own
unworthiness, tell him, that even as the
sick seeketh the physician, as he that hath
broken bones seeks him that can set them,
so thou art going to Jesus Christ for cure
and heaUng, for thy sin-sick soul.

But it ofttimea happeneth to him that
flies for his life, he despairs of escapino^,

194 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

and therefore delivers himself up into the
hand of the pursuer. But up, up, sinner ;
be of good cheer; Christ came to save the
unworthy one; be not faithless, but believe.
Come away, man, the Lord Jesus calls
thee, saying, '' And him that cometh to me,
I will in no wise cast out."

4. Thy fear that Christ will not receive
ihee, may arise from a sense of the exceed-
ing mercy of being saved. Sometimes
salvation is in the eyes of him that desires
BO great, so huge, so wonderful a thing,
that the very thoughts of the excellency of
it, engenders unbelief aboui obtaining it,
in the heart of those that unfeignedly de-
sire it. '• Seenieth it to you (saith David)
a light thing to be a king's son-in-law ?"
1 Sam. xviii. 26. So the thought of the
greatness and glory of the thing propoun-
ded, as heaven, eternal life, eternal glory,
to be with God, and Christ, and angels ;
these are great things, things too good,
(saith the soul that is little in his own eyes ;)
things too rich (saith the soul that is truly
poor in spirit) for me.

Besides, the Holy Ghost hath a way to
greaten heavenly things to the understand-
ing of the coming sinner ; yea, and at the
very same time to greaten too the sin and
unworthiness of that sinner. Now the
Boul staggeringly wonders, saying, What !
to be made like angels, like Christ, to live
in eternal bliss, joy, and felicity ! This is
for angels, and ior them that can walk like
angels I

If a prince, a duke, an earl, should send
(by the hand of his servant) for some poor,
sorry beggarly scrub, to take her for his
master to wife, and the servant should
come and say, My lord and master, such a
one hath sent me to thee, to take thee to
him to wife : he is rich, beautiful, and of
excellent qualities ; he is loving, meek,
humble, well-spoken, &c. What now
would this poor, sorry, beggarly creature
think ? What would she say ? or, how
would she frame an answer? When King
David sent to Abigail upon this account,
and though she was a rich woman, yet she
said, " Behold, let thine handmaid be a
servant to wash the feet of the servants of
my lord." She was contbunded, she could
not well tell what to say, the offer was so
great, beyond what in reason could be ex-
pected.

But suppose this great person should
second his suit, and send to this sorry
creature again, what would she say now?
Would she not say, You mock me ? But
what if he affirms, that he is in good earn-
est, and that his lord must have her to wife ;
yea, suppose he should prevail upon her to
credit his message, ami to address herself
for her journey ; yet, behold, every thought
of her pedigree confounds her; also her

sense of want of beauty makes her
ashamed ; and if she doth but think of be-
ing embraced, the unbelief that is mixed
with that thought, whirls her into tremb-
lings: and now she calls herself fool, for
believing the messenger, and thinks not to
go ; if she thinks of being bold, she blushes ;
and the least thought that she shall be re-
jected, when she comes at him, makes her
look as if she would give up the ghost.

And is it a wonder then to see a soul
that is drowned in the sense of glory, and
a sense of its own nothingness, to be con-
founded in itself, and to fear, that the glory
apprehended is too great, too good, and too
rich, for such an one ?

That thing, heaven and eternal glory, is
so great, and I that would have it, so
small, so sorry a creature, that the thoughts
of obtaining it confounds me.

Thus, I say, doth the greatness of the
things desired, quite dash and overthrow
the mind of the desire : O, it is too big !
it is too big ! it is too great a mercy !

But, coming sinner, let me reason with
thee. Thou sayest, it is too big, too great.
Well, will things that are less, satisiy thy
soul? Will a less thing than heaven, than
glory and eternal life, answer thy de^^ires ?
No, nothing less : and yet I fear they are
too big, and too good for me, even to ob-
tain. Well, as big and as good as they
are, God grveth them to such as thou ; they
are not too big for God to give ; no, not too
big to give freely ; be content, let God give
like himself; he is that eternal God, and
giveth like himself. When kings give,
they do not use to give as poor men do.
Hence it is said, that Nabal made a feast
in his house like the feast of a king; and
again, " All these things did Arauriah, as a
king, give unto David." Now, God is a
great king, let him give like a king, nay,
let him give like himself, and do thou re-
ceive like thyself: He hath all. and thou
hast nothing. God told his people of old,
tliat he would save them in truth and in
righteousness, and that they should return
to, and enjoy the land, which before, for
their sins, had spewed them out ; and then
adds, under the supposition of their count-
ing the mercy too good, or too big, ''If it
be marvellous in the eyes of the renmant of
this people in these days, should it also be
marvellous in mine eyes ? saith the Lord of
hosts."

As who should say, They are now in
captivity, and little in their own eyes ;
therefore they think, the mercy of returning
to Canaan is a mercy too marvellously big
for them to enjoy ; but if it be so in their
eyes, it is not so in mine : I will do for
them like God, if they will but receive my
bounty like sinners.

Coming sinner, God can give his heav-

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 195

enly Canaan, and the glory of it, unto thee ;
yea, none ever had them but as a gift, a
free gift: He hath given us his Son, "How
shall he not, then, with him also freely give
us ail things 7"

It was not the worthiness of Abraham,
or Moses, or David, or Peter, or Paul, but
the mercy of God, that made them inheri-
tors of heaven. If God thinks thee worthy
judge not thyself unworthy : but take it,
and be thankful. And it is a good sign he
intends to give thee, if he hath drawn out
thy heart to ask. " O Lord, thou hast
heard the desire of the humble; thou wilt pre-
pare their hearts; thou wilt incline thine ear."

When God is said to incline his ear, it
implies an intention to bestow the mercy
desired ; Take it therefore ; thy wisdom
will be to receive, not sticking at thy own
unworthiness. It is said, " He raiseth up
the poor out of the dust, and lifteth up the
beggar from the dunghill, to set them
among princes, and to make them inherit
the throne of glory." Again, " He raiseth
up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the
needy out of the dunghill, that he may set
them with the princes, even with the prin-
ces of his people."

You see also when God made a wedding
for his Son ; he called not the great, nor
rich, nor the mighty; but the poor, the
inaimetl, the halt, and the blind.

5. Thy fears that Christ will not receive
thee, may arise from the hideous roaring
of the devil, who pursues iliee. He that
hears him roar, must be a mighty Christian,
if he can at that time deliver himself from
fear. He is called a roaring lion ; and
then to allude to that in Isaiah, " If one look
into them, they have darkness and sorrow,
and the liglit is darkness in their very
heaven."

There are two things, among many, that
Satan useth to roar out after them that
are coming to Jesus Christ: 1. That they
are not elected . 2. That they have sinned
the sin against the Holy Gho?t.

To both these I answer briefly,

First, Touching Election, out of which
thou fearest thou art excluded : Why, com-
ing sinner, even the text itself affordeth
thee help against this doubt, and that by a
double argument.

1st. That, coming to Christ is, by virtue
of the gift, promise, and drawing of the
Father ; but thou art a coming ; therefore
God hath given thee, promised thee, and is
drawing thee to Jesus Christ. Coming
sinner, hold to this ; and when Satan be-
ginneth to roar again, answer. But I feel
my heart moving after Jesus Christ; but
that would not be, if it were not given by
promise, and drawing to Christ by the
power of the Father.

2dly. Jesus Christ hath promised, " that

him that cometh to him, he will in no wise
cast out:" And if he hath said it, will he
not make it good, I mean even thy salva-
tion ? For, as I have said already, not to
cast out, is to receive and admit to the ben-
efit of salvation. If then the Father hath
given thee, as is manifest by thy coming;
and if Christ will receive thee, thou com-
ing soul, as it is plain he will, because he
hath said, " He will in no wise cast out ;"
then be confident, and let these conclusions,
that as naturally flow from the text, as
light from the sun, or water from the foun-
tain, stay thee.

If Satan therefore objecteth, But thou
art not elected ; answer, But I am coming,
Satan, I am coming ; and that I could not
be, but that the Father draws me ; and I
am coming to such a Lord Jesus, as will in
no wise cast me out. Further, Satan, were
I not elect, the Father would not draw me,
nor would the Son so graciously open his
bosom to me. I am persuaded, that not
one of the non-elect shall ever be able to
say, no, not in the day of judgment, I did
sincerely come to Jesus Christ. Come
they may, feignedly, as Judas and Simon
Magus did ; but that is not our question.
Therefore, O thou honest-hearted, coming
sinner, be not afraid, but come !

As to the second part of the objection,
about sinning the sin against the Holy
Ghost ; the same argument overthrows
that also. But I will argue thus :

Is^. Coming to Christ is by virtue of a
special gift of the Father ; but the Father
giveth no such gift to them that have sin-
ned that sin ; therefore thou that art com-
ing hast not committed that sin, That the
Father giveth no such gift to them that
have sinned that sin, is evident.

1. Because they have sinned them-
selves out of God's favor ; " they shall nev-
er have forgiveness." But it is a special
favor of God to give unto a man, to come
unto Jesus Christ ; because thereby he ob-
tained forgiveness. Therefore he that
cometh, hath not sinned that sin.

2. They that have sinned the sin
against the Holy Ghost, have sinned them-
selves out of an interest in the sacrifice of
Christ's body and blood ; " There remains
lor such no more sacrifice for sin :" But
God giveth not grace to any of them to
come to Christ, that have no share in the
sacrifice of his body and blood. Therefore
thou that art coming to him, hast not sin-
ned that sin. Heb. x. 26.

2dly, Coming to Christ is by the special
drawing of the Father; "No man cometh
to me, except the Father which hath sent
me, draw him." But the Father draweth
not him to Christ, for whom he hath not
allotted forgiveness by his blood ; there-
fore, they that are coming to Jesus Christ,

19(5 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

have not commrtted that sin, because lie
hath allotted them fo-rgiveness by his blood.
John vi. 44.

That the Father cannot draw them to
Jesus Christ for whom he hath not allotted
forgiveness of sins, is manifest to sense;
for that would be a plain mockery, a flame,
neither becoming' his wisdom, justice, hdi-
Dess, nor goodness.

ddli/. Coming to Jesus Christ lays a man
under the promise of forgiveness and satva-
tion : But it is impossible that he that hath
Binned that sin, should ever be put under a
promise of these. Therefore h-e that hath
sinned that sin, can never have heart to
come to Jesos Christ.

ithly. Coming to Jesus Christ lays a
man under his intercession: " For be ever
liveth to make intercession for them that
come." Therefore he that is coming to
Jesus Christ cannot have sinned that sin.

Christ has forbid his people to pray for
Ihem that have sinned that sin ; therefore
he will not pray for them himself 3 but he
prays for then) that come,

5thly. He that hath sinned that sin,
Christ is to him of no more worth, than is a
man that is dead; "For he hath crucified
to himself the Son of God; yea, and hath
also counted his precious blood, as the
blood of an unholy thing. Now he that
hath this low esteem of Christ, will never
come to him for life ; but the coming man
has an high esteem of his person, blood,
and merits. Therefore he that is coming
has not committed that sin.

Gtkly. If be that has sinned this sin might
yet come to Jesus Christ, then must the
truth of God be overthrown ; which saith
in one place, " He hath never forgiveness ;"
and in another. " I will in no wise cast him
out." Therefore, that he may never have
forgiveness, he shall never have heart to
come to Jesus Christ. " It is impossible
that such an one should be renewed either
to, or by repentance." Wherefore, never
trouble thy head nor heart about this mat-
ter; he that cometh to Jesus Christ, cannot
have sinned against ihe Holy Ghost

6. Thy fears that Christ will not receive
thee, may arise from thine own folly, in in-
venting ; yea, in thy chalking out to God a
way to bring thee home to Jesus Christ.
Some souls that are coming to Jesus Christ
are great tormentors of themselves upon
this account ; they conclude that if there
coming to Jesus Christ is right, they must
needs be brought home thus and thus: As
lo instance.

1. Says one. If God be bringing of me.
to Jesus Christ, then will he load me with
the guilt of sin till he makes me roar again.

2. If God be indeed bringing me home
to Jesus Christ, then mu.st I be assaulted
with dreadful temptations of the devil.

3. If God be indeed bringing me to Je-
sus Christ, then even when I come at him,
I shall have wonderful revelations of him.

This is the way that eome sinners ap-
point for God ; but perhaps he will not
walk therein; yet will he bring them to Je-
sus Christ. But now, because they come
not the way of their own chalking out,
therefore they are at n loss. They look for
a heavy load and burden ; but perhaps God
gives them a sight of their lost corkdition,
and addeth not that heavy weight and bur-
den. They look for fearful temptations of
Satan ; but God sees that yet they are not
fit for tiiem; nor is the time come that he
should be honored by them in such a con-
dition. They look for great and glorious
revelations of Christ, grace, and mercy,
but perhaps God only takes the yoke from
off their jaws, and lays meat before them.
And now again tliey are at a loss, yet a
coming to Christ: "I drew them," saith
God, " with the cords of a man, with the
bands of love ; I took the yoke li-om oti' their
jaws, and laid meat unto them."

Now, I say, if God brings thee to Christ,
and not by the way that thou hast appoint-
ed, then thou art at a loss ; and for thy be-
ing at a loss, thou mayest thank thyself.
God hath more ways than thou knowest of!
to bring a sinner to Jesus Christ; but he
will not give thee beforehand an account
by which of them he will bring thee to
Christ.

Sometimes he hath his ways in the whirl-
wind ; but sometimes the Lord is not there.

If God will deal more gently with thee
than with others of his children, grudge
not at it; refuse not the waters that go
softly, lest he bring up to thee the waters of
the rivers, strong and many, even these
two smoking firebrands, the devil and guilt
of sin. He saith to Peter, "follow me,"
And what thunder did Zaccheus hear or
see? '' Zaccheus, come down," saith Christ,
"and he came down," (says Luke,) "and
received him joyfully."

But had Peter or Zaccheus made the
objection that thou hast made, and directed
the Spirit of the Lord as thou hast done,
they might have looked long enough, be-
fore they had found themselves coming to
Jesus Christ.

Besides, I will tell thee that the great-
ness of the sense of sin, the hideous roar-
ing of the devil, yea, abundance of revela-
tions, will not prove that God is bringing
thy soul to Jesus Christ; as Balaam, Cain,
Judas, and others, can witness.

Further, consider, that what thou hast
not of these things here, thou mayest have
another time, and that to thy distraction.
Wherefore, instead of being discontent, be-
cause thou art not in the fire, because thou
hearest not the sound of the trumpet, and

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 197

alarm of war, "Pray that thou enter not
into temptation ;" yea, come boldly to the
throne of grace, and obtain mercy, and find
grace to help in that time of need. Ps.
Ixxxviii. 15. Matt. xi. 41. Heb. iv. 16.

Poor creature ! thou criest, If I were
tempted, I could come faster, and with
more confidence to Jesus Christ. Thou
sayest thou knowest not what. What says
Job ? " Withdraw thy hand from mc, and
let not thy dread make me afraid, Then
call thou, and I will answer: or let me
speak, and answer thou me." It is not the
over heavy load of sin, but the discovery of
mercy; not the roaring of the devil, but the
drawing of the Father, that makes a man
come to Jesus Christ ; I myself know all
these things.

True, sometimes, yea, most an end, they
that come to Jesus Christ, come the way
that thou desiresl ; the leading, tempted
way : but the Lord also leads some by the
waters of comfort. If I was to choose when
to go a long journey, to wit, whether I
would go it in the dead of winter, or in the
pleasant spring, (though if it was a very
profitable journey, as that of coming to
Christ is, I would choose to go it through
fire and water, before I would lose the ben-
efit:) But I say, if I might choose the
time, I would choose to go it in the pleas-
ant spring, because the way would be more
delightsome, the days longer and warmer,
the nights shorter, and not so cold. And it
is observable, that very argument that thou
usest to weaken thy strength in the way,
that very argument Christ Jesus useth to
encourage his beloved to come to him :
" Arise," saith he, " my love, my fair one,
and come away : Why 1 For lo, the win-
ter is past, the rain is over and gone, the
flowers appear in the earth, the time of the
singing of birds is come, and the voice of
turtle is heard in our land. The fig-tree
putteth forth her green figs, and the vine,
with her tender grapes, give a good smell :
Arise my love, my fair one, and come
away."

Trouble not thyself, coming sinner ; if
thou seest thy lost condition by original
and actual sin ; if thou seest thy need of the
spoiless righteousness of Jesus Christ; if
thou art willing to be found in him, and to
take up thy cross and follow him ; then
pray for a fair wind and good weather, and
come away. Stick no longer in a muse
and doubt about things, but come away to
Jesus Christ: Do it, Tsay, lest thou tempt
God to lay the sorrows'of a travailing wo-
man upon thee. Thy folly in this Ihing
may make him do it. Mind what follows,
" The sorrows of a travailing woman shall
come upon him: Why? Ha is an unwise
son; so he should not stay long in the
place of the breaking forth of children."

7. Thy fears that Christ will not receive
thee, may arise from those decays that
thou findest in thy soul, even while thou art
coming to him ; So even as they are com-
ing to Jesus Christ, do find themselves
grow worse and worse; and this is indeed
a sore trial to the poor coming sinner.

To explain myself: There is such an one
coming to Jesus Christ, who, when at first
he began to look out after him, was sensi-
ble, affectionate, and broken in spirit; but
now is grown dark, senseless, hardhearted
and inclined to neglect spiritual duties, &c.
Besides, he now finds in himself inclina-
tions to unbelief, atheism, blasphemy, and
the like ; now he finds he cannot tremble at
God's word, his judgments, nor at the ap-
prehension of hell-fire : neither can he, as
he thinketh, be sorry for these things. Now
this is a sad dispensation ; The man under
the sixth head complaineth for want of
temptations, but thou hast enough of them ;
art thou glad of them, tempted, coming
sinner ? They that never were exercised
with them, may think it a fine thing to be
within the rage, but he that is there, is
ready to sweat blood for sorrow of heart,
and to howl for vexation of spirit.

This man is in the wilderness among
wild beasts : Here he sees a bear, there a
lion, yonder a leopard, a wolf, a dragon ;
devils of all sorts, doubts of all sorts, fears
of all sorts, haunt and molest his soul.
Here he sees smoke, yea, some fire and
brimstone, scattered upon his secret places ;
He hears the sound of an horrible tempest.

O ! my friends, even the Lord Jesus, that
knew all things, even he saw no pleasure
in temptations, nor did he desire to be with
them ; wherefore one text saith, '' he was
led," and another, " he was driven," of the
spirit into the wilderness, to be tempted of
the devil.

But to return : Thus it happencth some-
times to them that are coming to Jesus
Christ. A sad hap indeed ! one would
think that he that is flying from wrath to
come has little need of such clogs as these :
And yet so it is, a woful experience proves
it. The church of old complained that her
enemies overtook her between the straits ;
just between hope and fear, heaven and
hell.

This man feeleth the infirmity of his
flesh ; he findeth a proneness in himself to
be desperate : Now he chides with God,
flings and tumbles like a wild bull in a net,
and still the guilt of all returns upon him-
self, to the crushing of him to pieces: Yet
he feeleth his heart so hard, that he can
find, as he thinks, no kind falling under any
of his miscarriages. Now he is a lump of
confusion in his own eyes, whose spirit and
actions are without order.

Temptations serve the Christians as the

198 COxME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

shepherd's dog ?ervcth the silly sheep;
that is coming behind the flocU, lie runs
upon it. pulls it down, worriop it, wounds it,
and grievously bedabbleth it with dirt and
wet, In the lowest places oftlie furrows of
the field, and not leaving it until it is half
dead, nor then neither, except God rebuke.
Here is now room for fears of being cast
away. Now I see I am lost, says the sin-
ner; This is not coming to Jesus Christ,
says the sinner : such a desperate, hard,
and wretched heart as mine is, cannot be a
gmcious one, saith the sinner : And bid
8uch an one be better, he says, I cannot, no,
I cannot.

QnesHon. But what will you say to a
soul in this condition 7

A)is\cer. I will say that temptations have
attended the best of God's people ; I will
say that temptations come to do us good ;
and I will say also, That there is a differ-
ence betwixt growing worse and worse,
and thy seeing more clearly how bad thou
art.

There is a man of an ill-favored counte-
nance, who hath too high a conceit of his
beauty, and wanting the benefit of a glass,
he stifl stands in his own conceit ; at last a
limner is sent unto hira. who drawelh his
ill-tavored face to the lite ; now looking
thereon, he begins to be convinced that he
is not half so handsome as he thought he
was. Coming sinner, thy temptations are
these painters, they have drawn out thy
ill-favored heart to the life, and have set it
before thine eyes, and now thou seest how
ill-favored thou art.

Hezekiah was a good man, yet when he
lay sick (for aught I know) he had some-
what too good an opinion of his heart; and
for aught I know also, the Lord might up-
on his recovery leave him to a temptation,
that he might better know all that was in
his heart.

Alas ! we are sinful out of measure, but
see it not to the full, until an hour of temp-
tation comes ; But when it comes, it doth
as the painter doth, draw out our heart to
the life ; yet the sight of what we are
should not keep us from coming to Jesus
Christ.

There are two ways by which God lets
a man into a sight of the naughtiness of his
heart ; one is by the light of the word and
Spirit of God, the others is, by the tempta-
tions of the devil. But, by the first, we see
our naughtiness one way, and by the sec-
ond, another. By the light of the word
and Spirit of God, thou hast a sight of thy
naughtiness, and by the light oT the sun,
thou hast a sight of the spots and defile
ments that are in thy house or raiment.
Which light gives thee to see a necessity
of cleansing, but maketh not the blemishes
to spread more abominably. But when

Satan comes, when he tempts, he puts life
and rage into our sins, and turns them as
it were, into so many devils within us.
Now, like prisoners, they attempt to break
through the prison of our body: they will
attempt to get out at our eyes, mouth, ears,
any ways to the scandal of the gospel, and
reproach of religion, to the darkening of
our evidences, and damning of our souls.

But I shall say, as I said before, this
hath ofttimes been the lot of God's people.
And, " No temptation hath overtaken thee,
but such as is common to man ; and God is
faithful, who will not suffer thee to be temp-
ted above what thou art able." See the
book of Job, the book of Psalms, and that
of the Lamentations. And remember far-
ther, that Christ himself was tempted to
blaspheme, to worship the devil, and to
murder himself, (temptations worse than
which thou canst hardly be overtaken with.)
But he was sinless, that is true. And he
is thy Saviour, and that is as true. Yea,
it is as true also, that by his being tempted
he became the conqueror of the tempter,
and a succorer of those that are tempted.

Question. But what should be the rea-
son that some that are coming to Christ,
should be so lamentably cast down, aad
buffeted with ten>ptation ?

Answer. It may be for several causes.

1. Some that are coming to Christ, can-
not be persuaded until the temptation comes
that they are so vile as the scripture saith
they are. True they see so much of their
wretchedness as to drive them to Christ:
But there is an over and above of wicked-
ness which they see not. Peter little
thought that he had had cursing, and
.swearing, and lying, and an inclination in
his heart to deny his Master, before the
temptation came: but when that indeed
came upon him, then he found it there to
his sorrow.

2. Some that are coming to Jesus Christ
are too much affected with their own gra-
ces, and too little taken with Christ's per-
son ; wherefore God, to take them off from
doting on their own jewels, and that they
might look more to the person, undertaking
and merits of his Son, plunges them into
the ditch by temptations. And this I take
to be the meaning of Job: "If I wash me,"
saith he, "with snow-water, and make my-
self never so clean, yet wilt thou plunge me
in the ditch, and mine own clothes shall
abhor me." Job had been a little too much
tampering with his own graces, and setting
his excellencies a little too high. But by
that the temptations were ended, you find
him better taught.

Yea, God doth ofttimes, even for this
thing, as it were take our graces from us,
and so leave us almost quite to ourselves,
and to the tempter, that we may learn not

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. I99

to love the picture more than the person of
his Son. See how he dealt with them in
the 16th ofEzekiel, and the 2d of Hosea.

3. Perhaps thou hast been given too
much to judge thy brother, to condemn thy
brother, because a poor tempted man ; and
God to bring down the pride of thy heart,
letteth the tempter loose upon thee, that
thou also mayest feel thyself weak. " For
pride goeth before destruction, and an
haughty spirit before a fall."

4. It may be thou hast dealt a little too
roughly with those that God hath this way
wounded, not considering thyself lest thou
also be tempted : And therefore God hath
suffered it to come unto thee.

5. It may be thou wast given to slumber
and sleep, and therefore these temptations
were sent to awake thee. You know that
Peter's temptation came upon him, after
his sleeping ; then instead of watching and
praying, then he denied, and denied, and
denied his Master.

6. It may be thou hast presumed too far,
and stood too much in thine own strength,
and therefore is a time of temptation come
upon thee. This was also one cause why
it came upon Peter : " Though all men for-
sake thee, yet will not I." Ah ! that is the
way to be tempted indeed.

7. It may be God intends to make thee
wise, to speak a word in season to others
that are afflicted ; and therefore he sufler-
eth thee to be tempted. Christ was temp-
ted that he might be able to succor them
that are tempted.

8. It may be Satan hath dared God to
suffer him to tempt thee : promising him-
self that if he will but let him do it, thou
will curse him to his face. Thus he ob-
tained leave against Job ; wherefore take
heed, tempted soul, lest thou provest the
devil's saying true.

9. It may be thy graces must be tried in
the fire, thai that rust that cleaveth to them
may be taken away, and themselves proved,
both before ang-els and devils, to be tar bet-
ter than of gold that perishelh ; it may be also
that thy graces are to receive special prai-
ses, and honor, and glory, at the coming of
the Lord Jesus (to judgment.) for all the
exploits that thou hast acted by them
against hell, and its infernal crew, in the
day of thy temptation.

10. It may be God would have others
learn by thy siglis, groans, and complaints
under lemptationf;, to beware of those sins,
for the sake of which thou art at present de-
livered to the tormentors.

But to conclude this, put the worst to the
worst, (and then things will be bad
enough,) suppose that thou art to this day
without the grace of God, yet thou art but
a miserable creature, a sinner, that has
need of a blessed Saviour; and the text

presents thee with one as good and kind as
heart can wish ; who also for thy encour-
agement saith, " and him that cometh to
me, I will in no wise cast out."

To come therefore to a word of applica-
tion.

Is it so, that they are coming to Jesus
Christ, are ofttimes heartily afraid, that
Jesus Christ will not receive them? Then
this teacheth us these things :

1. That faith and doubting may ai the
same time have their residence in the same
soul. " O thou of little faith, wherefore
didst thou doubt ?" He saith not, O thou of
no faith ; but O thou of little faith ; because
he had a little faith in the midst of his
many doubts. The same is true, even of
many that are coming to Jesus Christ :
They come, and fear they come not, and
doubt they come not. When they look up-
on the promise, or a word of encourage-
ment by faith, then they come ; when they
look upon themselves, or the difficulties that
lie before them, then they doubt. Bid me
come, said Peter; Come, said Christ So
he went out of the ship to go to Jesus, but
his hap was to go to him upon the water;
there was the trial. So it was with the
poor desiring soul. Bid me come, says the
sinner ; come, says Christ, and I will in no
wise cast thee out ; So he comes, but his
hap is to come upon the water, upon
drowning difficulties ; if therefore the wind
of temptations blow, the waves of doubts
and fears will presently arise, and this com-
ing sinner will begin to sink, if he has but
little faith.

But you shall find here in Peter's little
faith, a twofold act ; to wit, coming and
crying : Little faith cannot come all the way
without crying. So long as its holy bold-
ness lasts, so long it can come with peace,
but when it is so it can come no farther, it
will go the rest of the Avay with crying.
Peter went as far as his little faith would
carry him: He also cried as lar as his little
faith could help, " Lord, save me, I perish."
And so with coming .and crying he was
kept from sinking, though he had but a lit-
tle faith. "Jesus stretched forth his hand
and caught him, and said unto him, O thou
of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?"
2. Is it so, that they that are coming to
Jesus Christ, are ofttimes heartily afraid
that Jesus Christ will not receive them ?
Then this shows us a reason of that dejec-
tion, and those castings down, that very
often we perceive to be in them that are
coming to Jesus Christ. Why, it is, be-
cause they are afraid that Jesus Christ will
not receive them. The poor world they
mock us, because we are a dejected peo-
ple ; I mean, because we are sometimes so ;
but they do not know the cause of our de-
jection. Could we be persuaded, even then

200 COME, AND WELCOME TO JESUS CHRIST.

when we arc dejected, that Jesus Christ
would indeed receive us, it would make us
fly over their heads, and would put more
gladness into our hearts, than in the time
in which their corn, wine, and oil increases.
Ps. iv.

3, Is it so, that they that are coming to
Jesus Christ, are ofttimes heartily afraid
that he will not receive them ? Then this
shows, that ihey that are coming to Jesus
Christ, are an awakened, sensible, consid-
ering people ; For fear cometh from sense,
and consideration of things. They are sen-
sible of sin, sensible of the curse due there-
to ; they are also sensible of the glorious
majesty of God, and of what a blessed,
blessed thing it is to be received of Jesus
Christ: The glory of heaven, and the
evil of sin, these things they consider, and
are sensible of. " When I remember 1 am
fifraid: When I consider I am afraid."

These things dash their spirits, being
awake and sensible. Were they dead, like
other men, they would not be afflicted with
fear as they are ; for dead men lear not,
feel not, care not ; but the living and sen-
sible man, he it is that is ofttimes heartily
afraid that Jesus Christ will not receive
him. I say, the dead and senseless are not
distressed: They presume they are ground-
lessly confident. AVho so bold as blind
Bayard ? These indeed should fear and
be afraid because they are not coming to
Jesus Christ. O the hell, the fire, the pit,
the wrath of God, and torment of hell, that
are prepared for poor neglecting sinners !
" How shall we escape if we neglect so
great salvation." But they want sense of
things, and cannot fear.

It is so that they that are coming to Je-
sus Christ, are ofttimes heartily afraid that
lie will not receive them ? Then this
should teach old Christians, to pity and
pray for young comers: You know the
heart of a stranger, for you yourselves
were strangers in the land of Egypt.
You know the fears, and doubts, and ter-
rors, that take hold on them, for they some-
times took hold on you. Wherefore pity
them, pray for them, encourage them ; they
need all this: gviilt hath overtaken them,
fear of the wrath of God hath overtaken
them ; Perhaps they are witliin the sight
of hell-fire; and the fear of going thither is
burning hot witliin their heart.s.

You may know how strangely Satan
is suggesting his devilish doubts unto them.
if possible he may sink and drown them
with his multitude and weight of them.
Old Christians, mend up the path for them,
take the stumbling-blocks out of the way,
lest that which is feeble and weak be turn-
ed aside, but let it rather bo healed.

III. I come now to the next observation,
and shall speak a little to that j to wit, That

Jesus Christ would not have them that in
truth are coming to him, once think that he
will cast them out.

The text is full of this 3 " And him that
cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out."
Now if he saith, I will not, he would not
have us think he will.

This is yet farther manifest by these con-
siderations.

1. Christ Jesus did forbid even ihem that
as yet were not coming to him, once to
think him such an one. "Do not think,"
said he, " that I will accuse you to the Fath-
er."

These, as I said, were such, that as yet
were not coming to him : For he saith of
them a little before, and ye will not come
to me : lor the respect they had to the hon-
or of men kept them back. Yet, I say, Je-
sus Christ gives them to understand, that
though he might justly reject them, yet he
would not, but bids them not once to think
that he would accuse them to the Father.
Now, not to accuse (with Christ) is to
plead for : for Christ in these things stands
not neuter between the Father and sinners.
So then, if Jesus Christ would not have
them think, that yet will not come to him,
that he will accuse them ; then he would
not that they should think so, that in truth
are coming to him: ''And him that cometh
to me, I will in no wise cast out."

2. When the woman taken in adultery
(even in the very act) was brought before
Jesus Christ, he so carried it both bywords
and actions, that he evidently enough made
it manifest, that condemning and casting
out were such things, for the doing of
which he came not into the world.

Wherefore, when they had set her be-
fore him, and had laid to her charge the
heinous fact, he stooped down, and with
his finger wrote upon the ground as though
he heard them not. Now what did he do
by this carriage, but testify plainly that he
was not for receiving accusations against
poor sinners, whoever accused by? And
observe, though they continued asking,
thinking at last to force him to condemn
her ; yet then he so answered, as that he
drove all condemning persons from her.
And then he adds, for her encouragement
to come to him : " Neither do I condemn
thee, go and sin no more."

Not but that he indeed abhorred the
fact, but he would not condemn the woman
for the sin, because that was not his office.
" He was not sent into the world to condemn
the world, but that the world through him
might be saved." Now if Christ, though
urged to it, would not condemn the guilty
woman, though she was far at pre;?ent
from coming to him, he would not that they
should once think, that he will cast them
out, that in truth are coming to him : " And

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 201

him that cometh to me, I will in no wise
cast out."

3. Christ plainly bids the turning sinner
come : and tbrbids him to entertain any
such thoughts, as that he will cast him out.
■" Let the wicked forsake his way, and the
unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him
turn unto the Lord, and he will have mer-
cy upon him : and to our God, for he will
abundantly pardon."

The Lord by bidding the unrighteous
forsake his thoughts doth in special forbid,
as I have said, viz. those thoughts that hin-
der the coming man in his progress to Je-
sus Christ, his unbelieving thoughts.

Therefore he bids them not only forsake
his ways but his thoughts ; " Let the sin-
ner forsake his ways, and the unrighteous
man his thoughts." It is not enough to for-
sake one, if thou wilt come to Jesus Christ,
because (he other will keep thee from
him. Suppose a man forsake his wicked
ways, his debauched and filthy life ; yet if
these thoughts, that Jesus Christ will
not receive him, be entertained and nour-
ished in his heart, these thoughts will keep
him from coming to Jesus Christ.

Sinner, coming sinner. Art thou for com-
ing to Jesus Christ? Yes, says the sinner.
Forsake thy wicked ways then. So I do,
says the sinner. Why comest thou then so
slowly ? Because 1 am hindered. What
hinders? Has God forbidden thee? No.
Art thou not willing to come faster? Yes,
yet I cannot. Well, prithee be plain with
me, and tell me the reason and ground of
thy discouragement. Why, says tiie sin-
ner, though God forbids me not, and though
I am willing to come faster, yet there nat-
urally ariseth this, and that, and the other
thought in my heart, that hinders my speed
to Jesus Christ. Sometimes I think I am
not chosen ; sometimes I think I am not
called ; sometimes I think I am come too
late ; and sometimes I think I know not
what IS to come. Also one while I think
I have Ro grace ; and then again, that I
cannot pray ; and then again, I think I am a
very hypocrite. And these things keep
me from coming to Jesus Christ.

Look ye now, did I not tell you so?
There are thoughts yet remaining in the
heart, even of those who have forsaken
their wicked ways ; and with those thoughts
they are more plagued than with any thing
else ; because they hinder their coming to
Jesus Christ, for the sin of unbelief (which
is the original of all these thoughts) is that
which besets a coming sinner more easily
than do his ways.

But now, since Jesus Christ commands
thee to forsake these thoughts, forsake
them, coming sinner: and if thou forsake
them not, thou transgressest the commands
of Christ, and abidest thine own torment-

VoL 3.— Z.

or, and keepest thyself from establishment
in grace : " If ye will no-t believe, ye shall
not be estabUshed."

Thus you see how Jesus Christ setteth
himself against such thoughts, that any
way discourage the coming sinner ; and
thereby truly vindicates tlie doctrine we
have in hand, to wit, That Jesus Christ
would not have them, that in truth are com-
ing to him, once think, that he will cast
them out. '• And him that cometh to me, I
will in no wise out."

I come now to the reasons of the observa-
tion.

1. If Jesus Christ should allow thee once
to think, that he will cast thee out, he must
allow thee to think that he will falsify his
word ; for he hath said, " I will in no wise
cast out." But Christ would not that thou
shouldst count him as one that will falsify
his word ; for he saith of himself, " I am
the truth ;" therefore he would not, that
any that in truth are coming to him, shouM
once think, that he will cast them eut.

2. If Jesus Christ should allow the -sin-
ner, that in truth is coming him, once t©
think that he will cast them out, then he must
allow, and so countenance the first appear-
ance of unbelief: the which he count-eth
his greatest enemy, and against wliich h&
has bent even his holy gospel. ThereforiS
Jesus Christ would not, that they that in
truth are coming to him, should once think
that he will cast them out.

3. If Jesus Christ should allow fhe com-
ing sinner once to think, that he will cast
him out, then he must allow him to make a
question, Whether he is willing to receive
his Father's gift: for the coming sinner is
his Father's gift: as also says the text;
but he testifieth, " All that the Father giv-
eth him shall come to him : and him that
cometh, he will in no wise cast out." There-
fore Jesus Christ would not have him, that
in truth is coming to him, once to think,
that he will cast him out.

4. If Jesus Christ should allow them once
to think, (that indeed are coming to him,)
that he will cast them out. he must allow
them to thinlc, that he will despise and re-
ject the drawing of his Father ; For no
man can come to him, but whom the Fath-
er draweth. But it would be high blas-
phemy, and damnable wickedness once to
imagine thus. Therefore, Jesus Christ
v/ould not have him that cometh, once thinlc,
that he will cast him out.

5. If Jesus Christ should allow those
that indeed are coming to him, once to
think that he will cast them out, lie must
allow them to think, that he will be unfiirh-
ful to the trust and charge that his Fatiier
hath committed to him ; which is to save,
and not to lose any thing of that which he
hath given unto him to save. ButtheFatli-

202 come;, and welcome, to JESUS CHRIST.

er hath given him a charge, to save tlie
coming sinner ; therefore it cannot be, that
he should allow, that such an one should
once tliink, tliat he will cast him out.

6. If Jesus Christ should allow, that they
should once tliink, that are coming to him,
that he will cast them out, then he must al-
low them to think, that he Avill be unfaith-
ful to his office of priesthood ; for, as by the
first part of it, he paid price for, and ran-
somed souls, so by the second part thereof,
he continually maketli intercession to God
for them that come. But he cannot allow
us to question his faithful execution of his
priestliood, therelbre he cannot allow us
once to think, that the coming sinner shall
be cast out.

7. If Jesus Christ should allow us once
to think, that the coming sinner shall be
cast out, tlien he must allow us to question
his will, or power, or merit to save. But
he cannot allow us once to question any of
these ; therefore not once to think, that the
coming sinner shall be cast out.

1. He cannot allow us to question his
will ; for he saith in the text, " I will in no
wise cast out."

2. He cannot allow us to question his
power ; for the Holy Ghost saith, he is able
to save to the uttermost them that come.

3. He cannot allow us to question his
power ; for the merit, for the blood of Christ
cleanseth the comer from all sin ; therefore
he cannot allow that he that is coming to
him should once think that he will cast
them out

8. If Jesus Christ would allow the com-
ing sinner once to think that he will cast
him out, he must allow him to give the lie
to the manifest testimony of the Father,
Son, and Spirit; yea, to the whole gospel
contained in Moses, the prophets, the book
of Psalms, and that commonly called the
New Testament. But he cannot allow of
this ; therefore, not that the coming sinner
should once think he will cast him out.

9. Lastly, if Jesus Christ should allow
him that is coming to him once to think,
that he will cast him out, he must allow him
to question his Father's oath, which he in
truth and righteousness hath taken, that
they might have a strong consolation, who
have fled for refuge to Jesus Christ. But
he cannot allow this, therefore he cannot
allow, that the coming sinner should once
think, that he will cast him out.

I come now to make some general use
and application of the whole, and so to
draw towards a conclusion.

1. The first use, a use of information :
and it informeth us, That men by nature
are far ofl' from Christ.

Let me a little improve this use, by speak-
ing to those three questions.

1. Where is he that is not coming to Je-
sus Christ ?

2. What is he that is coming to Jesus
Christ?

3. Whither is he to go that cometh not
to Jesus Christ ?

1. Where is he?

Ansicer. 1. He is far from God, lie is
without him, even alienated from him, both
in his understanding, will, affections, and
conscience.

2. He is far from Jesus Christ, who is
the only deliverer of men from hell fire.

3. He is far from the work of the Holy
Ghost, the work of regeneration, and a
second creation, without which no man
shall see the kingdom of heaven.

4. He is far from being righteous, that
righteousness that should make him accept-
able in God's sight.

5. He is under the power and dominion
of sin ; sin reigneth in and over him ; it
dwelleth in every faculty of his soul, and
member of his body ; so that from head to
foot there is no place clean.

6. He is in the pest-house with Uzziah,
and excluded the camp of Israel with the
lepers.

7. His life is among the unclean : " He
is in the gall of bitterness, and in the bond
of iniquity."

8. He is in sin, in the flesh, in death in
the snare of the devil, and is taken captive
by him at his will.

9. He is under the curse of the law, and
the devils dwell in him, and have the mas-
tery of him.

10. He is in darkness, and walketh in
darkness, and knows not whither he goes ;
for darkness has blinded his eyes.

11. He is in the broad way that leadeth
to destruction, and holding on, he will as-
suredly go in at the broad gate, and so
down the stairs to hell.

Secondly, What is he that cometh not to
Jesus Christ?

1. He is counted one of God's enemies.

2. He is a child of the devil, and of hell ;
for the devil begat him, as to his sinful na-
ture, and hell must swallow him at last,
because he cometh not to Jesus Christ.

3. He is a child of wrath, an heir of it;
it is his portion, and God will repay it him
to his face.

4. He is a self-murderer; he wrongeth
his own soul, and is one that loveth death.

5. He is a companion for devils, and
damned men.

Thirdly, Where is he hke to go that com-
eth not to Jesus Christ?

1. He that cometh not to him, is like to
go farther from him ; for every sin is a step
farther from Jesus Christ.

2. As he is in darkness, so he is like to
go on in it ; for Christ is the light of the
world, and he that comes not to him, walk-
eth in darkness.

3. He is hke to be removed at last, as

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 203

far from God and Christ, and heaven, and
all felicity, as an infinite God can remove
him.

But, Secondly, This doctrine of coming
to Christ, informeth us, where poor desti-
tute sinners may find life for their souls,
and that is in Christ. This life is in his
Son ; he that hath the Son, hath life. And
again, " Whoso findeth me, findeth life, and
shall obtain favor of the Lord."

Now, for farther enlargement, I will also
here propound three more questions.

1. What life is in Christ?

2. Who may have it 1

3. Upon what terms 1
First, What life is in Jesus Christ?

1. There is justifying life in Christ.
Man by sin is dead in law; and Christ
only can deliver him by his righteousness
and blood from this death into a state of life ;
" For God sent his Son into the world, that
we might live through him ;" that is, through
the righteousness which he should accom-
plish, and the death that he should die.

2. There is eternal life in Christ ; Life
that is endless : life for ever and for ever.
" He hath given us eternal life, and this life
is in his Son."

Now, justification and eternal salvation
being both in Christ, and no where else to
be had for men, who would not come to Je-
sus Christ?

Secondly, Who may have this life?

I answer, poor, helpless, miserable sin
ners, Particularly,

1. Such as are willing to have it ; " Who
soever will, let him take of the waters of
hfe."

2. He thai ihirsteth for it : "I will give
him that is athirst of the fountain of the
water of life."

3. He that is weary of his sins ; " This is
the rest, whereby you may cause the wea-
ry to rest ; and this is the refreshing."

4. He that is poor and needy, " He shall
spare the poor and needy, and shall save
the souls ot the needy."

5. He that followeth after him, crieth for
life : " He that follows me shall not walk in
darkness, but shall have the light of life."

Thirdly, Upon what terms may he have
this life?

Answer. Freely, Sinner, dost thou hear ?
Thou mayest have it freely. Let him take
of the water of life freely. I will give him
of the fountain of the water of life freely :
" And when they had nothing to pay, he
freely forgave them both."

Freely, without money, or without price,
" Ho ! every one that thirsteth, come ye to
the waters; and he that hath no money,
come, buy and eat ; Yea, come, buy wine
and milk, without money and without price."

Sinner, art thou thirsty ? art thou wea-
ry? art thou willing ? Come then, and re-

gard not your stuff; for all the good that
is in Christ is offered to the coming sinner
without money and without price. He
has life to give way to such as want it and
that have not a penny to purchase it ; and
he will give it freely. Oh, what a blessed
condition is the coming sinner in !

But thirdly. This doctrine of coming to
Jesus Christ for life, informeth us, that it is
to be had no where else. Might it be had
any where else, the text, and him that
spoke it, would be but little set by ; for
what great matter is there in, " I will in no
wise cast out," if another stood by that
would receive them ? But here appears the
glory of Christ, that none but he can save.
And here appears his love, that though
none can save but he, yet he is not coy in
saving. " But him that cometh to me,"
saith he, " I will in no wise cast out."

That none can save but Jesus Christ, is
evident, from Acts iv. 12. " Neither is
there salvation in any other: and he hath
given us eternal life, and this life is in his
Son." If life could have been had any
where else, it should have been in the law:
But it is not in the law ; for by the deeds of
the law, no man living shall be justified,
then no life.

Therefore life is no where to be had, but
in Jesus Christ.

Question. But why would God so order
it, that life should be had no where else but
in Jesus Christ?

Answe7\ There is reason for it, and that
both with respect to God and us.
First, with respect to God.

1. That it might be in a way of justice,
as well as mercy: and, in a way of justice,
it could not have been, if it had not been
by Christ; because he, and he only, was
able to answer the demand of the law, and
give for sin, what the justice thereof re-
quired. All angels had been crushed down
to hell for ever, had that curse been laid
upon them for our sins, which was laid
upon Jesus Christ ; but it was laid upon
him, and he bare it; and answered the
penalty, and redeemed his people from un-
der it, with that satisfaction to divine jus-
tice, that God himself doth now proclaim,
that he is faithful and just to forgive us, if
by faith, we shall venture to Jesus, and
trust to what he has done, for life.

2. Life must be by Jesus Christ, that
God might be adored and magnified for
finding out this way. This is the Lord's
doings, that in all things he might be glo-
rified through Jesus Christ our Lord.

3. It must be by Jesus Christ, that life
might be at God's dispose, who hath great
pity for the poor, the lowly, the meek, the
broken in heart, and for them that others
care not for.

4. Life must be in Christ, to cut off

204 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

boasting fram the lips of men. This also
is tlie apostle's reason.

Secondly, Life must be in Jesus Cbrist
willi respect to us.

1. That we might have it upon the ea-
siest terms ; tu wit, freely as a gift, not as
wages. Was it in his Moses's hantl, we
slioiild hardly come at it. Was it in the
pewpfe's hand, we should pay soundly for
it- Bus thanks be to God, it is in Christ,
laid op in him, a[\d by hiiii to be communi-
caietl to sinners upon easy terms, even to
receiving, accej)ting, and embracing with
thanksgiving j, aa the scriptures plainly d«-
clare.

2. Life is in Christ for us, that it might
not be upon so brittle a foundation, as in-
deed it would, had it been any where else.
The law itself is weak because of us, as to
this: hut Christ is a tried stone, a sure
foundation, one that will not fail to bear
fhy burden, and to receive thy soul, com-
ing sinner.

3. Life is in Christ, that it might be sure
to all the seed. Alas ! the best of us, was
iife left in our hands, to be sure we should
forfeit it, over, and over, and over ; or, was
it in any other hand, we should, by our of-
ten backslidings, so offend him, that, at
last, he would shut up his bowels in ever-
lasting displeasure against us. But now it
is in Christ; it is with one that can pity,
pray for, pardon, yea, multiply pardons; it
is with one that can have compassion upon
us. when we are out of the way, with one
that hath a heart to fetch us again, when
we are gone astray, with one that can par-
don without upbraiding. Blessed be God,
that life is in Christ ! for now it is sure to
all liie seed.

But, fourthly, this doctrine of coming to
Jesus Christ lor life, inlbrms us of the evil
of unbelief; that wicked thing that is the
only or chief hindrance to the coming sin-
ner. Doth the text say, Come? Doth it
say, '• And him that cocneth to me, I will
in no wise cast oot ?" then what an evil is
that that keepeth sinners from coming to
Jesus Chriit ? And thatevjl is unbelief: for
by faith we come; by unbelief we keep
away. Therefore, it is said to be that by
which a soul is said to depart from God :
because, it was that which, at first, caused
the world to go off" from him, and that also
that keeps them from him to this day.
And it doth it the more easily, because it
doth it with a wile.

This sin may be called the white devil,
for. it ofttimes, in its mischievous doing in
the soul, shows as il" it were an angel of
of light: yea, it actelh like a counsellor of
heaven. Therefore, a little to discourse of
this evil disease.

1. It is that sin, above all others, that
hath some show of reason in its attempts.

For it keeps the aoul from Christ, by pre-
tending its present unfitness and unprejiar-
ed'fiess:: af» want of more sense of sin,
want j>f more repentance, want of more
humility, want of a more broken iieart.

2. It is ihe sin that most suiteth with the
conscience ; the conscience ol" the coming
sinner tells him, that he hath nothing good y
that he stands indictable for ten thousand
talents ; that he is a very ignorant, blind,
and hard-harted sinner, unworthy to be
once taken notice of by Jesus Christ ; and
will you, says Unbelief, in such a case as
vou now are, presume to come to Jesus
Christ?

3. It is the sin that most suiteth with our
sense of feeling. The coming sinner feels
the workings of sin, of all manner of sin and
wretchedness in his flesh : he also feels the
wrath and judgment of God due to sin, and
ofttimes staggers under it. Now, says Un-
belief, you may see you have no grace ; for
that which works in you is corruption.
You may also perceive that God doth not
love you, because the sense of his wrath
abides upon you. Therefore, how can you
bear the face to come to Jesus Christ.

4. It is that sin, above all others, that
most suiteth the wisdom of our flesh. The
wisdom of our flesh thinks it prudence to
question awhile, to stand back awhile, to
hearken to both sides awhile: and not to
be rash, sudden, or unadvised, in too bold a
presuming upon Jesus Christ. And this
wisdom Unbelief falls in with.

5. It is the sin, above all other, that con-
tinually is whispering the soul in the ear
with mistrusts of the Ikithfulness of God, in
keeping proinise to them that come to Jesus
Christ for life. It also suggests mistrusts
about Christ's willingness to receive it, and
save it. And no sin can do this so artifi-
cially as unbelief.

6. It is also that sin which is always at
hand to enter an objection against this or
that promise, that by the Spirit ol' God is
brought to our heart to comfort us ; and if
the poor coming sinner is not aware of it, it
will, by some exaction, slight, trick, or cavil,
quickly wrest from him the promise
again, and he shall have but little benefit of
it.

7. It is that above all other sins, that
weakens our prayers, our faith, our love,
our diligence, our hope, and expecta-
tions : it even taketh the heart away from
God in duty.

8. Lastly, This sin, as I have said even
now, it appears in the soul with so many
sweet pretences to safety and security, that
it is, as it were, counsel sent from heaven,
bidding the soul to be wise, wary, consid-
erate, well advised, and to take heed of too
rash a venture upon believing. Be sure,
first, Uiat God loves youj take hold of no

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 205

promise until you are forced by God unto
It; neither be you sure of your salvation ;
doubt it still, though the testimony of the
Lord has been often confirmed in you.
Live not by faith, but by sense ; and when
you can neither see nor feel, then fear and
mistrust, then doubt and question all. This
is the develish counsel of Unbelief, v/hich
is so covered over with specious pretences,
that the wisest Christian can hardly shake
off these reasonings.

But to be brief: let me here give the
Christian reader a more particular descrip-
tion of the qualities of unbelief, by oppo-
sing faith unto it, in these twenty-five par-
ticulars.

1. Faith believeth the word of God, but
unbelief questioneth the certainty of the
same.

2. Faith believeth the word, because it is
true : but unbelief doubteth thereof, be-
cause it is true.

3. Faith sees more in a promise of God
to help than in ail other things to hinder :
but unbelief, notwithstanding God's prom-
ise, saith, how can these things be 7

4. Faith will make thee see love in the
heart of Christ, when with his mouth he
giveth reproofs; but unbelief will imagine
wrath in his heart, when with his mouth
and word he saith he loves us.

5. Faith will help the soul to wait,
though God defers to give ; but unbelief
will take snuff and throw up all, if God
makes any tarrying.

6. Faith will give comfort in the midst
of fears ; but unbelief causeth fears in the
midst of comforts.

7. Faith will suck sweetness out of God's
rod, but unbelief can find no comfort in its
greatest mercies.

8. Faith maketh great burdens light;
but unbelief maketh light ones intolerably
heavy.

9. Faith helpeth us when we are down ;
but unbelief throws us down when we are
up.

10. Faith bringeth us near to God when
we are far from him ; but unbelief puts us
far from God when we are near to him.

11. Where faith reigns, it declareth them
to be the friends of God ; but where unbe-
lief reigns, it declareth them to be his ene-
mies,

12. Faith putteth a man under grace ;
but unbelief holdeth him under wrath.

13. Faith purifieth the heart; but unbe-
lief keepeth it polluted and impure.

14. By faith, the righteousness of Christ
is imputed to us ; but by unbelief we are
shut up under the law to perish.

15. Faith maketh our work acceptable to
God through Christ ; but whatsoever is of
unbelief is sin : for without faith it is im-
possible to please hira.

16. Faith giveth us peace and comfort in
our souls ; but unbelief workcth trouble and
tossings, like the restless waves of the sea.

17. Faith maketh us see preciousness in
Christ; but unbelief sees no form, beauty,
or comeliness in him.

18. By i'aith, we have our life in Christ's
fulness ; but by unbelief we starve and
pine away.

19. Faith gives us the victory over the
law, sin, death, the devil, and all evils ; but
unbelief layeth us obnoxious to them all.

20. Faith will show us more excellency
in things not seen, than in them that are ;
but unbelief sees more of things that are,
than in things that will be hereafter.

21. Faith makes the ways of God pleas-
ant and admirable ; but unbelief maketh.
them heavy and hard.

22. By faith Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,
possessed the land of promise ; but because
of unbelief, neither Aaron, nor Moses, nor
Miriam, could get thither.

23. By faith the children of Israel pass-
ed through the Red sea; but, by unbelief,
the generality of them perished in the wil-
derness.

24. By faith, Gideon did more with three
hundred men, and a few empty pitchers,
than all the twelve tribes could do, because
they believed not God.

25. By faith, Peter walked on the water;
but by unbelief, he began to sink.

Thus might many more be added, which,
for brevity's sake, I omit, beseeching every
one that thinketh he hath a soul to save,
or be damned, to take heed of unbelief;
lest seeing there is a promise left us of enter-
ing into his rest, any of us, by unbelief^
should indeed come short of it.

II. The second use : a use of examina-
tion.

We come to a use of examination. Sin-
ner, thou hast heard of the necessity of
coming to Christ; also, of the willingness of
Christ to receive the coming soul ; together
with the benefit that they, by him, shall
have that indeed come to him. Put thy-
self now upon this serious inquiry, am I in-
deed come to Jesus Christ?

Motives plenty I might here urge, to pre-
vail with thee to a conscientious perform-
ance of this duty: as,

1. Thou art in sin, in the flesh, in death,
in the snare of the devil, and under the
curse of the law, if you are not coming to
Jesus Christ.

2. There is no way to be delivered from
these, but by coming to Jesus Christ.

3. If thou comest, Jesus Christ will re-
ceive thee, and will in no wise cast thee
out.

4. Thou wilt not repent it in the day of
judgment if thou now comest to Jesua
Christ.

206 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

5. But thou wilt surely mourn at last, if
now thou shalt refuse to come. And,

6. Lastly. Now, thou hast been invited
to come; now will thy judgment be great-
er, and tJiy damnation more fearful, if thou
shalt yet refuse, than if thou hast never
heard of coming to Christ.

Objection. But we hope we are come
to Jesus Christ.

Ans^ver. It is well if it proves so. But
lest thon shouldst speak without ground,
and so fall unawares into hell-fire, let us
examine a little.

First. Art thou indeed coming to Jesus
Christ ? What hast thou left behind thee ?
What didst thou come away from, in thy
coming to Jesus Christ?

When Lot came out of Sodom, he left
the Sodomites behind him.

When Abraham came out of Chaldea,
he left his country and kindred behind.

When Ruth came to put her trust under
the wings of the Lord God of Israel, she
let't her father and mother, her gods, and
the land of her nativity, behind her.

When Peter came to Christ, he left his
nets behind him.

When Zaccheus came to Christ, he left
the receipt of custom behind him.

When Paul came to Christ, he left his
own righteousness behind him.

When those that used curious arts came
to Jesus Christ, they took their curious
books and burned them, though in another
man's eye they were counted worth fifty
thousand pieces of silver.

What sayest thou man 7 Hast thou left
thy darling sins, thy Sodomitish pleasures,
Ihy acquaintance and vain companions,
thy unlawful gain, thy idol gods, thy right-
eousness, and thy unlawful curious arts be-
hind thee ? If any of these be with thee,
and thou with them, in thy heart and life,
thou art not yet come to Jesus Christ.

Secondly. Art thou come to Jesus Clirist ?
Prithee, tell me, what moved thee to come
to Jesus Christ ? Men do not usually come
or go, to this or that place, before they
have a moving cause, or rather a cause
moving them thereto : no more do they
come to Jesus Christ (I do not say before
they have a cause, but) before that cause
moveth them to come. What sayest thou ?
Hast thou a cause mo'ving thee to come ?
To be at present in a state of condemna-
tion, is cause sufficient for men to come to
Jesus Christ for life : but that will not do,
except the cause move them, the which it
will never do until their eyes be opened to
Bee themselves in that condition. For it is
not a man's being under wrath, but his see-
ing it, that moveth him to come to Jesus
Christ. Alas ! all men by sin are under
wrath ; yet but few of that all come to Je
6US Christ ; and the reason is because they

do not see their condition. "Who hath
warned you to flee from the wrath to
come ?" Until men are warned, and also
receive the warning, they will not come to
Jesus Christ.

Take three or four instances for this.

1. Adam and Eve came not to Jesus
Christ until they received the alarm, the
conviction of their undone state by sin.

2. The children of Israel cried not out
for a mediator before they saw themselves
in danger of death by the law.

3. Before the publican came, he saw
himself lost and undone.

4. The prodigal came not, until he saw
death at the door, ready to devour him.

5. The three thousand men came not,
until they knew not what to do to be saved.

6. Paul came not, until he saw himself
lost and undone.

7. Lastly. Before the jailer came, he
saw himself undone. And I tell thee, it is
an easier thing to persuade a well man to
go to the physician for cure, or a man
without hurt to seek a plaister to cure him,
than it is to persuade a man that sees not
his soul-disease, to come to Jesus Christ.
The whole have no need of a physician ;
then why should they go to him ? The full
pitcher can hold no more ; then why should
it go to the fountain ? And if thou comest
full, thou comest not aright ; and be sure,
Christ will send the empty away : " But he
healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth
up their wovinds."

Thirdly. Art thou coming to Jesus Christ ;
prithee, tell me, what seest thou in him to
allure thee to forsake all the world, to come
to him ? I say, what hast thou seen in him ?
Men must see somewhat in Jesus Christ,
else they will not come to him.

1. What comeliness hast fhou seen in his
person ? thou comest not, if thou seest no
form, nor comeliness in him.

2. Until those mentioned in the song
were convinced that there was more beau-
ty, comeliness and desirableness, in Christ,
than in ten thousand, they did not so much
as ask where he was, nor incline to turn
aside after him.

There be many things on this side heav-
en that can and do carry away the heart ;
and so will do, so long as thou livest,
if tliou shalt be kept blind, and not be
admitted to see the beauty of the Lord Je-
sus.

Fourthly. Art thou come to the Lord Je-
sus? what hast thou found in him, since
thou cam.est to him ?

Peter found witli him the word of eternal
life.

They that Peter makes mention of, found
liim a living stone, even such a living stone
as communicated life to tliem.

He saith himself, they that come to him

COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 207

&c. shall find rest unto their souls ; haB
thou found rest in him for thy soul 1

Let us go back to the times of the Old
Testament.

1. Abraham found that in him, that made
him leave his country for him, and become
for his sake a pilgrim and stranger in the
earth.

2. Moses found that in him, that made
him forsake a crown, a kingdom for him
too.

3. David found so much in him, that he
counted to be in his house one day was bet-
ter than a thousand ; yea to be a door-keep-
er therein, was better in his esteem, than
to dwell in the tents of wickedness.

4. What did Daniel and the three chil-
dren find in him, to make them run the
hazards of the fiery furnace, and the den
of lions, for his sake 7

Let us come down to martyrs.

1. Stephen found that in him, that made
him joyful, and quietly yield up his life for
his name.

2. Ignatius found that in him, that made
him choose to go through the torments of
the devil, and hell itself: rather than not to
have him. (Acts and Monuments, vol. 4.
page 25.)

3. What saw Romanus in Christ, when
he said to the raging emperor, who threat-
ened him with fearful torments. Thy sen-
tence, O emperor, I joyfully embrace, and
refuse not to be sacrificed — by as cruel tor-
ments as thou canst invent! (page 116.)

4. What saw Menas the Egyptian, in
Christ when he said, under most cruel tor-
ments, there is nothing in my mind that can
be compared to the kingdom of heaven ;
neither is all the world, if it was weighed
in a balance, to be preferred with the price
of one soul ! Who is able to separate us
from the love of Jesus Christ our Lord?
And I have learned of my Lord and king
not to fear them that kill the body, &c.
(p. 117.)

5. What did Euliah see in Christ, when
she said, as they were pulling her one joint
from another ; Behold, O Lord, I will not
forget thee : What a pleasure is it for them
O Christ ! that remember thy triumphant
victory ! (p. 121.)

6. What think you did Agnes see in
Christ, when rejoicingly she went to meet
the soldier, that was appointed to be her
executioner; I will willingly, said she re-
ceive into my paps the length of this sword,
and into my breast will draw the force
thereof, even to the hilts ; that thus I, being
married to Christ my spouse, may sur-
mount and escape all the darkness of this
world ! (p. 122.)

7. What do you think did Julietta see in
Christ, when at the emperor's telling of her,
that except she would worship the gods,

she should never have protection, laws,
judgments, nor life ? She replied, farewell
life, welcome death; farewell riches, wel-
come poverty. All that I have, if it were a
thousand times more, would I give, rather
than to speak one wicked and blasphemous
word against my Creator, (p. 123.)

8. What did Marcus Arethus-us see in
Christ, when, after his enemies did cut his
flesh, anointed it with honey, and hanged
him up in a basket for flies and bees to
feed on, he would not give (to uphold idol-
atry) one half-penny to save his life ? (p.
119.)

9. What did Constantino see in Christ,
when he used to kiss the wounds of tliem
that suffered for him ? (p. 135.)

10. But what need I give thus particular
instances of words and smaller actions,
when, by their lives, their blood, their en-
during hunger, sword, fire, pulling asunder,
and all torments that the devil and hell
could devise, they showed their love to
Christ, after they were come to him ?

What hast thou found in him, sinner ?

What ! come to Christ, and find nothing
in him, wKen all things tliat are worth look-
ing for are in him, or if any thing, yet not
enough to wean thee from thy sinful de-
lights, and fleshly lusts ! Away ; thou art
not coming to Jesus Christ.

He that is come to Jesus Christ, hath
found in him, that, as I said, that is not to
be found any where else. As,

1. He that is come to Christ hath found
God in hiiu reconciling the world unto him-
self; not imputing their trespasses to them ;
and so God is not to be found in heaven
and earth besides.

2. He that is come to Jesus Christ, hath
found in him a fountain of grace, sufficient,
not only to pardon sin, but to sanctify the
soul, and to preserve it from falling in this
evil world.

3. He that is come to Jesus Christ, hath
found virtue in him, that virtue, that if he
does but touch thee with his words, or thou
him by faith, life is forthwith conveyed into
thy soul ; it makes thee wake as one that is
waked out of his sleep ; it awakes all the
powers of the soul.

4. Art thou come to Jesus Christ ? thou
hast found glory in him, glory that sur-
mounts and goes beyond. '-Thou art more
glorious than the mountauis of prey."

5. What shall I say ? Thou hast found
righteousness m him ; thou hast found rest,
peace, delight, heaven, glory, and eternal
hfe.

Sinner, be advised ; ask thy heart again ;
saying, am I come to Jesus Christ? for
upon this one question. Ami come, or am
I not? hangs heaven and hell as to thee.
If thou canst say, I am come, and Goil
shall approve that saying, happy, happy,

208 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

happy man art thou ! but if thou art not
■come, what can make thee happy ? Yea,
what can make tliat man happy, that for
his not coming to Jesus Christ for life, must
be damned in hell ?

III. The third use ; a use of encourage-
ment.

Coming sinner, I have now a word for
thee ; be of good comfort. " He will in no
wise cast out." Of all men, thou art the
blessed of the Lord ; the Father hath pre-
pared his son to be a sacrifice for thee, and
Jesus Christ, thy Lord, is gone to prepare
a place lor thee.

What shall I say to thee ? thou comest to
a full Christ ; f hou canst not want any thing,
for soul or body, for this world or that to
come, but it is to be had in or by Jesus
Christ.

As it is said of the land that the Dann-
ites went to possess, so, and with much
more truth it may be said of Christ, he is
such an one, Avith whom there is no want
of any good thing that is in heaven or earth.

A full Christ is thy Christ.

1. He is full of grace. Grace is some-
times taken for love; never any loved like
Jesus Christ. Jonathan's love went be-
yond the love of women ; but the love of
Christ passes knowledge. It is beyond the
love of all the earth, of all creatures, even
of men and angels. His love prevailed
with him to lay aside his glory, to leave the
heavenly place, to clothe himself with flesh,
to be born in a stable, to be laid in a man-
ger, to live a poor lite in the world, to take
upon him our sickness, infirmaties, sins,
curse, death, and the wrath that was due
to man. And all this he did for a base,
undeserving, imthankful people ; yea, for a
people that was at enmity with him. " For.
when we were yet without strength, in due
time Christ died for the ungodly. For
scarcely for a righteous man will one die ;
yet, peradventure, for a good man some
would even dare to die. But God com-
mended his love toward us, in that while
we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
Much more, than, being now justified by
his blood, we shall be saved by his life.
For if, when we were enemies, we Avere
reconciled to God by the death of his Son ;
much more being reconciled, we shall be
f aved by his life."

2. He is full of truth. Full of grace and
truth. Truth, that is, faithfulness in keep-
ing promise, even this of the text, (with all
others,) "I will in no wise cast out."
Hence, it is said, that his words are true,
and that he is the faithful God, that kecpeth
covenants. And hence it is also that his;
promises are called truth, " Thou wilt fulfil
thy truth unto Jacob, and tliy mercy unto
Abraham, which thou hast sworn unto our
fathers from the days of old." Therefore

it is said again, that both himself and
words are truth, "I am the truth," "the
scriptures of truth." " thy word is truth,"
" thy law is truth," " and my mouth," eailh
he, " shall speak truth."

NoAv 1 say, his word is truth, and he is
full of truth to fulfil his truth, even to a
thousand generations. Coining sinner, he
will not deceive thee ; come boldly to Jesus
Christ.

3. He is full of wisdom : He is made un-
to us of God wisdom ; Avisdom to manage
the aflairs of his church in general, and the
afliiirs of every coming sinner in particular.
And upon this account he is said to be
" head o\'er all things," because he mana-
ges all things that are in the world by his
Avisdom, for the good of his church: all
men's actions, all Satan's temptations, all
God's providences, and crosses, and disap-
pointments ; all things whateA'er, are under
the hand of Christ, (who is the Avi.sdom of
God,) and he ordereth them all for good to
his church : And can Christ help it, (and
be sure he can.) nothing shall happen or
fall out in the world, but it shall, in despite
of all opposition, have a good tendency to
his church and people.

4. He is full of the Spirit to communicate
it to the coming sinner ; he hath therefore
received it Avithout measure, that he may
communicate it to eA'ery member of his
body, according as every man's measure
thereof is allotted him by the Father.
Wherefore he saith, that he that comes to
him, " Out of his belly shall flow rivers of
living water."

5. He is indeed a store-house full of all
the graces of the Spirit. " Of his fulness
have all aa^c received, and grace for grace."
Here is more faith, more love, more sincerity
more humility, more of every grace; and of
this, CA^en more of this, he giveth to every
loAvly, humble, penitent, coming sinner:
Avhereforc, coming soul, thou come.'Jt not to
a barren Avildcrness, Avhcn thou comest to
Je-sus Christ.

6. He is full of bowels of compassion:
and they shall feel and find it so that come
to him for life. He can bear Avith thy
weakness, he can pity thy ignorance, he
can be touched Avith the feeling of thy
infirmities, he can affectionately forgive
thy transgressions, he can heal thy backslid-
ings, and love thee freely. His compas-
sions fliil not; "and he Avill not break a
bruised roed, nor quench the smoking flax :
he can pity them that no eye pities, and
be afflicted in all thy afflictions."

7. Coming soul, the Jesus that thou art
coming to is full of might and tcrribleness,
tor thy advantage he can suppress all thine
enemies ; he is the prince of the kings of
the earth ; he can bow all men's designs
for thy help ; he can break all snares laid

GOME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST. 209

for thee in the way ; he can lift thee out of all
difficulties, wherewith thou mayest be sur-
rounded ; he is wise in heart, and mighty in
power. Every life under heaven is in his
hand ; yea, the fallen angels tremble before
him : And he will save thy hfe, coming sin-
ner.

8. Coming sinner, the Jesus to whom
thou art coming is lowly in heart, he despi-
seth not any. It is not thy outward mean-
ness, nor thy inward weakness ; it is not
because thou art poor, or base, or deformed
or a fool, that he will despise thee : he hath
chosen the foolish, the base and despised
things of this world to confound the wise
and mighty. He will bow his ear to thy
stammering prayers ; he will pick out the
meaning of thy inexpressible groans ; he
will respect thy weakest offering, if there
be in it but thy heart.

Now is not this a blessed Christ, coming
sinner? Art thou not like to fare well,
when thou hast embraced him, coming sin-
ner? But,

Secondly, Thou hast yet another advan-
tage by Jesus Christ, thou art coming to
him, for he is not only full but free. He is
not sparing of what he has ; he is open-
hearted, and open-handed. Let me in a
few particulars show thee this :

1. This is evident, because he calls thee ;
he calls upon thee to come unto him ; the
which he would not do, was he not free to
give ; yea, he bids thee when come, ask,
seek, knock: And for thy encouragement
adds to every command a promise, " Seek,
and ye shall find ; Ask, and ye shall have ;
Knock, and it shall be opened unto you."
If the rich man should say thus to the poor,
would not he be reckoned a free-hearted
man ? I say, should he say to the poor,
Come to my door, ask at my door, knock at
my door, and you shall find and have ;
would he not be counted liberal? Why
thus doth Jesus Christ. Mind it, coming
sinner.

2. He doth not only bid the come, but
tells thee, he will heartily do the good ; yea,
he will do it with rejoicing : " I will rejoice
over them, to do them good with my whole
heart and with my whole soul."

3. It appears that he is free, because he
giveth without twitting. •' He gives to all
men liberally, and upbraideth not." There
are some that will not deny to do the poor
a pleasure, but they will mix their mercies
with so many twits, that the persons on
whom they bestow their charity, shall find
but little sweetness in it. But Christ dotli
not do so, coming sinner: he casteth all
thine iniquities behind his back ; thy sins
and iniquities he will remember no more.

4. That Christ is free, is manifest by the
complaints that he makes against theni that
will not come to him for mercy. I say, he

Vol. 3.-A.K.

complains, saying, O Jerusalem, Jerusalem !
How often would I have gathered thy chil-
dren together, as a hen gathereth her chick-
ens under her Avings, and ye would not !"
I say, he speaks it, by way of complaint.
He saith also in another place, " But thou
hast not called upon me, O Jacob." Com-
ing sinner, see here the willingness of
Christ to save ; see here how free he is to
communicate life, and all good things, to
such as thou art: He complains, if thou
comest not ; he is displeased if thou callest
not upon him.

Hark, coming sinner, once again ; when
Jerusalem would not come to him for safe-
guard, he beheld the city, and wept over it,
saying, " If thou hadst known, even thou,
at least in this thy day, the things which
belong unto thy peace ! but now they are
hid from thine eyes."

5. Lastly. He is open and free-hearted
to do thee good, as is seen by the joy and
rejoicing that he manifesteth at the com-
ing home of poor prodigals : He receives
the lost sheep with rejoicing; the lost goat
with rejoicing ; yea, when the prodigal
came home, what joy and mirth, what mu-
sic and dancing, was in his father's house t

Thirdly. Coming sinner, I will add an-
other encouragement for thy help.

1. God hath prepared a mercy-seat, a
throne of grace to sit on : that thou mayest
come thither to him, and that he may from
thence hear thee, and receive thee : " I will
comnmne with thee," saith he, " from above
the mercy-seat."

As who shall say, sinner, Wlien thou
comest to me, thou shalt find me upon the
mercy-seat, where also I am always found
of the undone coming sinner: Thither I
bring my pardon ; there I hear and receive
their petitions and accept them to my fa-
vor.

2. God hath also prepared a golden altar
for thee to offer thy prayers and tears upon.
A golden altar ! It is called a golden altar,
to show what Avorth it is of in God's ac-
count ; for this golden altar is Jesus Christ ;
this altar sanctifies thy gift, and makes thy
sacrifice acceptable. This altar then makes
thy groans golden groans ; thy tears golden
tears, and thy prayers golden prayers, in
the eye of that God thou comest to, coming
sinner.

3. God hath strewed all the way (trom
the gate of hell, where thou wast, to the
gate of heaven whither thou art going,)
with flowers out of his own garden. Be-
hold how the promises, invitations, calls,
and encouragements, like lilies, lie round
about thee ! (take heed thou dost not tread
them under foot, sinner,) with promises
did I say? Yea, he hath mixed all those
with his own name, his Son's name ; alacc
with the name of mercy, goodness, comr'

210 COME, AND WELCOME, TO JESUS CHRIST.

passion, love, pity, grace, forgivcnessj par-
don, and what not, tJiat may encourage the
coming sinner.

4. He hath also for thy encouragement
laid up the names, and set forth the sins ol"
those that have been saved: In his book
they are fairly written, that thou tiirough
patience and comfort of the scriptures
mightest have hope.

1st. In this book is recorded Noah's maim
and sin ; and how God had mercy upon him.

2dly. In this record is fairly written the
name of Lot, and the nature of his sin ; and
how the Lord had mercy upon him.

3dly. In this record thou hast also fairly
written the names of Moses, Aaron, Gide-
on, Sampson, David, Solomon, Peter, Paul,
with the natvire of their sins, and how God
had m€rcy upon them ; and all to encourage
thee, coming sinner.

Fourthly, I will add yet another encour-
agement for the man that is coming to Je-
sus Christ Art thou coming? Art thou
coming indeed? Why,

L This thy coming is by virtue of God's
call ; Thou art called. CaUing goes be-
fore coming : coming is not of works, but
of him that calleth. He went up into a
mountain, and called tohim whomhe would,
and they came to him.

2. Art thou coming? This is also by the
virtue of illumination : God has made thee
see, and therefore thou art coming. So
long as thou wast darkness, thou lovedst
darkness, and couldst not abide to come,
becaus ! thy deeds were evil, but being
now illuminated and made to see, what and
where thou art, and also Avhat and where
thy Saviour is, now thou art coming to Je-
bus Christ; "Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-
jona ; for flesh and blood hath not revealed
it unto thee," saith Christ, " but my Father
which is in heaven."

3. Art thou coming? This is because
God has inclined thine heart to come.
God hath called thee, illuminated thee, and
inclined thy heart to come ; and therefore
thou comest to Jesus Christ. It is God
that vvorketh in thee to toill, and to come to
Jesus Christ. Coming sinner, bless God
for that he hath given thee a will to come
to Jesus Christ. It is a sign that thou be-
longest to Jesus Christ, because God has
made thee willing to come to him. Bless

God for slaying the enemy of thy mind ;
had he not done it, thou wouldst as yet
have hated thine own salvation.

4. Art thou coming to Jesus Christ? It
is God that giveth thee power; j}ower to
pursue thy will in matters of thy salvation,
is the gift of God. "It is God that work-
eth in you both to rijill and to do." Not
that God worketh loill to come, where he
gives no power; but that thou shouldst
take notice, that power is an additional
mercy. The church saw that will and pow-
er, were two things, when she cried,
" Draw me, and we will run after thee,"
and so did David too, when he said, " I will
run the ways of thy commandments, when
thou shall enlarge my heart." Will to
come, and power to pursue thy will, is
double mercy, coming sinner.

5. All thy strange, passionate, sudden
rushings forward after Jesus Christ, (com-
ing sinners know what I mean) they also
are thy helps from God. Perhaps thou
feelest at sometimes more than at others,
strong stirrings up of heart to fly to Jesus
Christ ; now thou hast at this time a sweet
and stiff' gale of the Spirit of God, filling
thy sails with the fresh gales of his good
Spirit ; and thou ridest at those times as
upon the wings of the wind, being carried
out beyond thyself, beyond the most of thy
prayers, and also above all thy fears and
temptations.

6. Coming sinner, hast thou not now and
then a kiss of the sweet lips of Jesus Christ,
I mean some blessed word dropping like a
honey -comb upon thy soul to receive thee,
when thou art in the midst of thy dumps ?

7. Does not Jesus Christ sometimes give
thee a glimpse of himself, though perhaps
thou seest him not so long a time as while
one may tell twenty ?

8. Hast thou not sometimes as it were
the very warmth of his wings over-
shadowing the face of thy soul, that gives
thee as it were a gload upon thy spirit, as
the bright beams of the sun do upon thy
body, when it suddenly breaks out of a
cloud, though presently all is gone away !

Well, all these things are the good hand
of thy God upon thee, and they are upon
thee to constrain, to provoke, and to make
thee willing and able to come, coming sinner,
that thou mightest in the end be Baved.

THE END.

DR. GRIFFIN'S
LETTER ON COMMUNION.

A LETTER ON COMMUNION AT THE LORD'S TABLE : ADDRESSED TO A MEMBER OF THE BAP-
TIST CHURCH. BY THE REV. EDWARD D. GRIFFIN, D. D. PRESIDENT OF WILLIAM'S COLLEGE.

Williams' College, March 25th, 1829.

Dear Sir, — In our late interview, you
professed yourself an advocate for open
communion, and requested me to give the
reasons which operates in my mind in fa-
vor of that practice.

I do this with the more pleasure because
some of ray earliest associations attached
me to the members and preachers of your
communion, and awakened feelings of kind-
ness which have accompanied me through
life. I have repeatedly exchanged pulpits
with your ministers. I have dismissed
members from my church to join your
churches. I hav^e always considered bap-
tism by immersion as valid ; and were I
imperiously called upon by the conscience
of an applicant, and could do it without of-
fence to others, I should have no hesitation
in administering the ordinance in this form.
In short, I regard your churches as church-
es of Christ. The question is. Is it reason-
able in them so to regard us ?

The separating point is not about the
subjects of baptism, but merely the mode.
If \\H?'"could be considered as fairly bap-
tized, our Baptist brethren certainly would
not exclude us merely because we apply
the seal to infants. Many greater mistakes,
(allowing this to be one,) are made by
those whom we do not exclude from our
communion.

I agree with the advocates for close com-
munion in two points : 1. That baptism is
the initiating ordinance which introduces
us into the visible church : of course, where
there is no baptism there are no visible
churches : 2. That we ought not to com-
mune with those who are not baptized, and
of course are not church members, even if
we regard them as Christians. Should a
pious Q,uaker so far depart from his princi-
ples as^ to wish to commune with me at the
Lord's table, while yet he refused to be bap-
tized, I could not receive him ; because there
issuch a relationship established betweenthe
two ordinances, that I have no right to sep-
arate them ; in other words, I have po right
lo send the sacred eleaicnts out of the
ciiurch.

The only question then is, whether those
associations of evangelical Christians that
call themselves churches, and that practice
sprinkling are real churches of Christ; in
other words whether baptism by sprinkling
is valid baptism.

In my subsequent remarks I will assume
(though I do not admit,) that immersion is
the better form of baptism and that we have
misjudged as to the most suitable mode.
The question is. Is this mistake so radical
as to destroy the validity of the ordinance 1
I offer the following reasons against the ex-
clusive system.

1. In the nature of things the validity
of the ordinance cannot depend on the
quantity of water, for the end is essentially
answered by less as well as by more. Wa-
ter, if the ocean were applied, could not
wash out sin. It is only an emblem ; an
emblem which voluntarily used, is a profes-
sion of faith in a purifying Saviour. Now
if water be apphed to the body, (though
only to a part,) as an emblem of purifica-
tion, and as a profession of faith, and from
sincere respect to the authority of Christ,
what more can an emblem do? What
more could immersion do, unless to render
the emblem still more significant?

2. We have authority for saying that
an emblem of purification applied to a part
of the body, is as effectual as if applied to
the Avhole body. It is found in what our
Saviour said to Peter on the occasion of
washing his feet : " Peter saith unto him,
Thou slialt never wash my feet. Jesus an-
swering him, If I wash thee not, thou hast no
part in me. [Meaning, If I do not produce
that inward cleansing of which this is an
emblem.] Simon Peter saith unto him,
Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands,
and my head. Jesus saith unto him, he
that is washed, needeth not save to wash
his feet, but is clean every whit;" (John xiiL
S — 10.) that is, is stamped with a full em-
blem of universal purity.

3. If the exact form of baptism were
essential to its validity, the form would
have been so clearly defined that no honest
mind could mistake it. The old dispensa-
tion, Y.'as a dispensation of ceremonies, and

212 DR- GRIFFIN'S LETTER ON COMMUNION.

therefore the validty of its ordinances de-
pend on an exact adherence to the forms
prescribed. Nadab and Abihu were slain
lor burning incense with fire taken from
the hearth instead of the aUar. (Lev.
X. 1. &c. Numb. viii. 4.) Every thing
therefore was minutely and most expli-
citly prescribed, even to the putting of the
blood upon the tip of the ear, and to the
least tpin and fringe of the tabcrnacfe.
Moses was commanded to " make all tilings
according to the pattern" shown him in
the mount. (Heb. viii. 5, Avith Exod.
XXV. 9, 40.) The new dispensation is
distinguished with greater light. If,
therefore, the validity of any of its or-
dinances depended on their precise form,
that form would have been as clearly de-
fined at least as the forms of that darker
dispensation. But,

4. There seems not to be a single
form under the new dispensation so pre-
cisely defined, but that difi'erent denomina-
tions may and do practise differently with-
out transgression. There is a great vari-
ety in the manner of their keeping the sup-
per, administering baptism, performing
prayer, and conducting all the forms of
public worship. Unless theretbre we con-
demn the whole, or nearly the whole church,
we must admit thai the validity of no ordi-
nance under the gospel depends on its pre-
cise form. And this might be expected
from a dispensation known to be spiritual,
and not a dispensation of ceremonies ; that
is to say, a dispensation under which spirit-
ual things are exposed in their own naked
nature, and not set forth chiefly by pictures,
on the exactness of which the whole exhi-
bition depends.

In regard to baptism, none will pretend
that the form is expressly prescribed, like
the forms under the old dispensation. The
disputants about the mode rely, on both
sides, on the history and incidental remarks
found in the New Testament. But laying
aside the Baptism of John, which we hold
did not belong to the New Testament dis-
pensation, (for a testament is not of force
till after the death of the testator ; Heb. ix.
15, 16.) and the baptism of Christ, which
.was received from John, and which, we
hold, was only his ordination to the priestly
office ; laying these aside, and confining the
attention to that baptism which was insti-
tuted after the death and resurrection of
the " Testator," and was administered in the
name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ;
and the mode is left so uncertain that the
most honest minds may be supposed to dif-
fer about it. If two perfectly holy men had
been brought up in the centre of the earth,
find on arriving at the surface should have
p. Bible put into their hands, and be re-
quested to tell how the apostles baptized;

and one should happen to fall upon the
case of the Eunuch, and the other upon the
scene at pentecost, (where throe thousand
seem to have been baptized by eleven men
in a single afternoon, on the lop of a high hill,
in the centre of a populous city, and far
from any river or brook deep enough for
immersion;) there would be an equal
chance that they would bring in different
reports. Could things be left so uncer-
tain if Ihe validity of the ordinance, and
the very existence of a visible church, de-
pended on the precise form of baptism ?

5. If nothing but immersion is baptism,
there is no visible church except among
the Baptists. But certainly God has owned
other associations of Christians as church-
es. He has poured his Spirit upon them
in their assemblies, and what is more de-
cisive, at the table of the Lord ; and has
communed with them and built them up
by means of that ordinance which, were
they not churches, it would not be profani-
ty to approach.

What is a church ? It is a company of
believers, in covenant with God, essentially
organized according to the gospel, holding
the essential doctrines, and practising the
essential duties. If you demand more,
you may not find a church on earth.

Now here are associations of true be-
lievers, (our Baptist brethren will allow
this,) who have entered into covenant with
God, and sincerely observe all his ordinan-
ces os they understand them, and differ in
nothing from the Baptist construction but in
a mere form., and maintain all the essen-
tial doctrines, and spread around them the
savor of the Redeemer's name by their
holy examples and evangelical efforts, and
are owned of God by the effusions of his
Spirit, and are among the chosen instru-
ments— are a great majority of the chosen
instruments, — to carry the gospel to the
heathen. And after all, are they to be dis-
owned as churches of Christ?

6. If our Christian associations are not
churches, our preachers are not church
members ; are not baptized, ; and there-
fore have no right to preach, and certainly
are not ministers of Christ: (for how can
one be an officer of the church who is not a
member?) and therefore have no right to
administer the Lord's supper, (to say noth-
ing of baptism,) and are guilty of awful
profanity in doing this. And yet these pro-
fane intruders into holy things, instead of
being driven from the earth, like Korah,
Dathan, and Abiram, are owned of God,
are made the chosen instruments of promo-
ting revivals of religion, of saving the souls
of men, of spreading the gospel at home, of
sending it to the heathen, and of doing
more than lialf that is done to extend the
kingdom of Christ on earth. And they arc

PROFESSOR RIPLEY'S REVIEW OF

21:

owned as lawful preachers even by thej
Baptists themselves, who come to hear;
them, and whose ministers exchange pul-
pits with them.

7. The spirit of love and union which
Christ inculcated upon his disciples, and
by which tlie world was to know that God
had sent him, binds evangelical churches
Avith each other. This spirit has made a
wonderful advance within the last thirty
years, and is one of the leading character-
istics of the present day, and has come in
with those other glorious changes which
all Christians ascribe to God, and which
are manifestly putting things forward tow-
ards the millennial state. And this spirit,
according to all prophecy, must go on in-
creasing, and banish the hidious spectre of
bigotry from the world, before the happiest
period of the church can be vishered in.

A noble advance has been made by our
Baptist brethren in England. Many advo-
cates for open communion have there risen
up, among whom stands conspicuous the
celebrated Robert Hall. In America, at
the head of the liberal class stood the late
excellent Dr. Stillman of Boston, who was
beloved by all the churches in that city

and respected by Christians throughout
the United States.

8. Bigotry, which is a prejudiced zeal for
party distinctions, is a party spirit in reli-
gion ; and a party spirit, whether in religion
or politics, is a selfish spirit. It is a setting
up of mine against thine. Selfishness will
certainly array itself against my argument.
It is always giving undue importance to
those points in which our denomination
differs from others, not only because it is
ours, but in order to shut our adherents in
by a sort of impassable gulf. All the de-
pravity of religious men, unless much en-
Hghtened, tends this way. Good men
ought therefore to be always^ on their
guard against this gravitation of their cor-
rupt nature, and always struggling after that
generous spirit of disinterested love which
will embrace all that belongs to Christ.

You are at liberty, according to your re-
quest, to publish this for the use of your
friends.

With sincere wishes for your happi-
ness and for the prosperity of your
churches I am, dear Sir, your friend and
brother.

EDWARD D. GRIFFIN.

PROFESSOR RIPLEY'S REVIEW

DR. GRIFF IN'S
LETTER ON COMMUNION.

We are glad that Dr. Griffin does not
lend the weight of his authority to those
who maintain the vmtenable position that
baptism is a matter of little importance.
His well known decision, and independence
and confidence in vindicating what he
deems to be the truth, would prepare us to
expect from him something definite and
tangible.

This letter traces the controversy re-
specting the Lord's super to the right
source ; namely, error respecting baptism.
Baptism it expressly maintains to be '' the
initiating ordinance which introduces us

into the visible church ;" it also asserts
" that we ought not to commune with those
who are not baptized, even if we regard
them as Christians." From this " relation-
ship established between the two ordinan-
ces," it might be anticipated that the prin-
cipal effort of Dr. Griffin, in order to main-
tain the propriety of open communion,
would be to show that immersion is not es-
sential to the performance of baptism ; in
other words, that something else besides
immersion is valid baptism. Here the au-
thor of the letter and the Baptist are at
issue. As this is the hinge on which the
controversy turns, we trust an cxamiualiou

214 DR. GRIFFIN'S LETTER ON COMMUNION.

of this point will not be deemed out of
place.

In our subsequent remarks, we shall pro-
ceed upon the principles avowed by Dr.
Griffin respecting the importance of bap-
tism, and its connection with the due observ-
ance of the Lord's supper. Yet we shall
not consider ourselves responsible for the
sweeping conclusion, tliat " where there is
no baptism there are no visible churches."
As however, Dr. Griffin has given his ex-
plicit sanction to the propriety of this con-
clusion, we hope that hereafter, though it
has sometimes been exhibited as an appal-
ling result of the Baptists' peculiar senti-
ments, it will not be selected as an instance
of unquestionable bigotry. For ourselves,
we have never thought it necessary to
draw such a conclusion. It has always ap-
peared to us sufficient to say, that those
communities of Christians who have aban-
doned the primitive practice in respect to
baptism, are churches not in a state of or
der, so far as the positive ordinances of the
gospel are concerned.

Before examining the opinion respecting
baptism, on which the chief remarks in
this letter are founded, we wish to correct
an important error in one of its statements.
This we do the more readily, because it is an
error very exten.?ively indulged, and yet one
would think it a very obvious error. It is
contained in these words: "The separat-
ing point is not about the subjects of bap-
tism, but merely the mode. If we could be
considered as fairly baptized, our Baptist
brethren certainly would not exclude us
merely because we apply the seal to in-
fants." Now we ask, now is it possible
that at this late day any one should need
to be informed, that the separating point
regards the subjects of baptism as well as
the manner in which the ordinance is to be
performed ? It is frequently said, nothing
separates Baptists from Pasdobaptist but
a little water. The impression produced
by this remark on a hearer who has not
paid special attention to the matter, is very
unfavorable: and it cannot be wondered
at, that the frequency of such remarks
should have spread far and wide an opin-
ion- that members of Baptist churches are
most unreasonable in their practice. Be it
known then, that we have as much solici-
tude respecting the question, To whom
may baptism be administered ? as respect-
ing the question. What is baptism ? Should
we make a distinction in regard to import-
ance between the two questions, we should
not hesitate to say that the former question
far exceeds in importance the latter. Much
as we are pained, that the outward per-
formance ol a Christian ordinance should
be perverted and displaced, we are far
more seriously concerned, that unconscious

babes should be considered suitable candi-
dates for an ordinance in a dispensation in
which each one is required to act for him-
self, and in which intelhgence and moral
goodness are requisite in order to perform
its duties and to enjoy its privileges. We
know it has been said, that baptism is not
the act of the child, but of the parent in ref-
erence to the child. But where in the
New Testament is the passage in which
baptism is represented otherwise than as
an act in which the individual baptized did
for himself engage ? Baptism is viewed by
us as a most solemn act of worship ; Avor-
ship, not only in respect to the administra-
tor, but especially and peculiarly in respect
to the baptized person himself; a service,
not of the parent or guardian, but of the
baptized person himself. Indeed we can-
not regard that as valid baptism, which is
administered without a prolieseion of faitli
in Christ, made by the candidate himself.
To us it would be just as great a perver-
sion lor infants and professed unbelievers
to partake of the Lord's supper, as it is lor
them to be (as it is said) baptized.

Those, then, are in a great mistake who
represent their Baptist brethren as refusing
to join with them in the Lord's supper oa
no other ground than simply because they
have not been immersed. To substitute
something else in the room of baptism, is a
great and lamentable error ; to admit indi-
viduals to a Christian ordinance who know
not and who profess not to know what they
do, is (to say the least) an equally great
and lamentable error. Something more,
then, than a little water divides these two
denominations. We separate from Psedo-
baptist Christians because by their using a
little water instead of " much water," they
have divested baptism of a great part of
its meaning; because by applying what
they call a Christian ordinance to unbeliev-
ing and unknowing persons, they have still
further departed from the meaning of bap-
tism, and have lamentably obscured ihe
spirituality of the gospel, and have created
an imaginary relation between certain un-
sanctified persons and God ; and because
these errors produce sad misconceptions
respecting the nature of the church. That
must, then, be a very superficial view,
which sees only a little water between these
two portions of Christians. Let it not be
said, baptism is merely an outward cere-
mony, and our opinions respecting it cannot
be so very important. True, the perform
ance of baptism is outward ; but in order that
baptism be properly and acceptablyperform-
cd, there must be previously in him who re-
ceives it, a great fiioral .change, which v;ill
ultimately pervade the whole character, and
prepare the person for dwelling in the bles-
sed regions of holiness. Unimportant aa

PROFESSOR RIPLEY'S REVIEW OF

215

baptism may appear to some, we cannot re-
gist the conviction that the Head of the
church wisely appointed it, as also the other
ordinance to be a mark of distinction be-
tween the church and the world : and that,
outward though the ordinance be, yet cor-
rect opinions respecting it are of most salu-
tary tendency in regard to the purity of
Christian faith and practice ; and that if the
ordinance of baptism had not been pervert-
ed from apostolic simplicity, a very large
portion of the errors which have most per
manently afflicted the church would have
been avoided.

We must also correct another erroneous
statement, intimately connected with that
on which we have just been remarking.
Dr. Griffin says, " The only question is,
whether baptism by sprinkUng is valid bap-
tism." Here is an entire overlooking of
qualifications for receiving baptism, the
profession of which in the person baptized
is essential to the due administration of the
ordinance. We wonder not that the prac-
tice of sprinkling infants, and by tiiis way
either introducing them into covenant with
God, or reminding the parent of his obliga-
tions to train up his child for God, or re-
minding him of the depraved nature of his
child, and of its need of regeneration,
should have removed from the minds of Pse-
dobaptists a regard for qualifications con-
nected with the reception of baptism. But
when they are arguing upon a question
which must be settled by a reference to
baptism, they ought not leave out of view
what Baptists conceive to be of essential
importance in baptism ; namely, the profes-
sion of personal faith in the Saviour. There
are two questions, then, which should be
asked : whether sprinkling without a pro-
fession of faith in the Saviour, made by the
person spi'inkled, is valid baptism; and,
whether sprinkling, though accompanied
with such a profession, is valid baptism.
When a believer receives sprinkling, on the
ground of its being baptism, there is a very
serious opposition to our views of scriptural
truth ; when an infant, or any unbelieving
person receives sprinkling on the faith, as
is sometimes said, of the parent, or some
other ancestor, or the guardian or of the
church, there is a still wider departure from
what we deem to be the representations of
scripture. Now since the opinions respect-
ing baptism are the foundation of the diffi-
culty respecting the Lord's supper, we
claim that the whole ground of dissent in
regard to baptism should be kept in view.

We have made these distinct explana-
tions in this place, so that if, in the progress
of the discussion, our remarks should be re-
stricted to a part of the controversy respect-
ing baptism, we yet may not be misunder-
stood.

Dr. Griffin attempts to prove that immer-
sion is not essential to the performance of
baptism. " In the nature of things," says
he in his first reason, " the validity of the
ordinance cannot depend on the quantity
of water, for the end is essentially answer-
ed by less as well as by more." The cor-
rectness of this assertion depends solely on
the answer to the question, What is the
end or design of baptism ? A question, we
hesitate not to say, the most important in
regard to baptism ; decisive of every point
in controversy, whether respect be had to
the manner in which the ordinance is to be
performed, or to the subjects to whom it
should be administered. Settle this point
and there will be no further occasion for
dispute respecting baptism. Would every
minister of Christ, in simplicity and godly
sincerity, search the scriptures, in order to
discover what is the design of this ordi-
nance, or what purpose it is intended to an-
swer ; and would he follow into all its ne-
cessary consequences the result of this
investigation, there would soon be but one
mind and one judgment among the stew-
ards of the mysteries of God. Would
every person about to make a public pro-
fession of religion, examine what the scrip-
tures say on this point unbiassed by any
extraneous considerations ; and then, with
unwavering confidence in God, act in ac-
cordance with the scriptural design of bap-
tism, what vast diminution Avould there be
of that mental disquietude which so many
experience at that tender and interesting
period — and which even ministers of the
Lord Jesus sometimes endeavor to remove
by the unwarrantable representations that
such a time is not suitable for examining
the subject ; that, after ha\ing made a pro-
fession of religion, it can better be investi-
gated ; that baptism is non-essential ; that
it is a mere form of a ceremony ; that one
way is as good as another. Our hearts
sicken when we think how even good men
prevent disciples of the Lord from ascer-
taining and obeying his will ; when we are
compelled to think that some who are ap-
pointed to be lights in the church, do really
envelope in darkness the tender mind of a
young convert who wishes to inquire. Lord,
what wilt thou have me to do ?

It is our honest conviction that there are
in the Bible statements in regard to bap-
tism sufficiently explicit to show what this
service means. So plainly does the Bible
seem to us to speak on this point, that we
think no emendation necessary to make it
speak more plainly. The author of this
letter declares what he conceives to be the
end of baptism. " It is," he says, " only an
emblem ; an emblem, which, voluntarily
used, is a profession of faith in a purifying
Saviour. This language needs nn com-

216 DR. GRIFFIN'S LETTER ON COMMUNION.

menl : baptism is " an emblem of purifica-
tion ;" and he wlio voluntarily uses it ex-
presses his " faith in a purifying Saviour."
From tliis representation of an uninspired
man, we turn to the oracles of God, ''to
the law and to the testimony ;" for if men,
however venerable through age, or learn-
ing, or dignity of manners and station, or
piety, " speak not according to this word,"
we hold ourselves bound to desert their
guidance.

When we first meet Avith baptism as per-
formed under the authority of our Lord,
mentioned in the gospel by John iv. 1, 2,
and then go forward to the solemn period
when he extended the commission and said,
"Go ye therefore and teach all nations,
baptizing them in the name of the Father,
and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost ;"
that is, baptizing them into the worship
and service of the Father, of the Son, and
of the Holy Ghost, the first thought that
enters our mind is, that baptism was inten-
ded to separate from all others and to col-
lect into one body, all the truly pious.
But while this general purpose was answer-
ed and was conspicuous even from the
commencement, there were some particu-
lar ends to be accomplished, for which bap-
tism had a peculiar significancy. Water
being a purifying element, and bathing for
cleanliness as well as for comfort being
customary, Jesus also having come to save
his people from their sins, how appropriate
is baptism to express the idea of cleansing,
of moral purification ! In conformity with
this design was the address of Ananias to
Saul of Tarsus, Avhen this persecutor of
the church had become a disciple of the
Lord Jesus : " Arise and be baptized, and
wash away thy sins, calling on the name
of the Lord." To the same purpose, in im-
mediate connection with " putting off the
body of the sins of the flesh," by Christian
circumcision, that is, by the renovation of
the heart, the Colossians (ii. 11, 12,) are
represented as having been "buried in bap-
tism."

Is there any additional significancy in
this rite ? In the acts of the Apostles, viii.
37, 38, occurs the account of the Ethio-
pian officer baptized by Philip. As a ne-
cessary antecedent to his receiving of bap-
tism, the eunuch made the following profes-
sion. I believe that Jesus Christ is the
Son of God. During the conversation be-
tween Philip and this man, a minute ac-
count appears to have been given of the
character, the suiferings, and the conse-
quent glory of the Lord. He was induced
to believe in Jesus as the Son of God. A
reference to Rom. x. 9, Avill lead us to (hink
that in this profession there was included
the belief of a specially important event :
" If thou shall confess with thy mouth the

Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart
that God hath raised him from the dead,
thou shalt be saved." In the act, then, of
confessing the Lord Jesus, there is also im-
phed a belief in his resurrection from the
dead, and in his previous death and burial.
That this object was always viewed by the
primitive Christians in close connection
with baptism, we have the fullest evidence
from Rom. vi. 3. " Know ye not that so ma-
ny of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ,"
or as his disciples, " were baptized into his
death," or did by our baptism acknowledge
his death as declared in the gospel? And
that with this acknowledgment of the Sa-
viour's death, there was also in baptism
an acknowledgment of our duty to
be dead to sin and to lead a new life, is
evident from the succeeding verse. " There-
fore we are buried with him by baptism
into death, that like as Christ was raised
up from the dead by the glory of the Fa-
ther, even so we also should walk in new-
ness of life."

In writing to the Colossians also, the apos-
tle very distinctly brings to view this striking
significancy of baptism: ii. 12. "Buried
with him in baptism, wherein (in which em-
blem) also ye are risei\ with him through
the faith of the operation of God (or through
faith in the power of God) who hath raised
him from the dead."

In 1 Peter iii. 21. The same connection
between baptism and the resurrection of our
Lord is exhibited. In the ark of Noah,
"eight souls were saved by water, the like
figure whereunto, even baptism doth also
now save us, not the putting aAvay of the
filth of the flesh, but the answer of a good
conscience towards God," that is, the pro-
fession of a conscience made tranquil
towards God, " by tlie resurrection of Jesus
Christ."

With this view of the design of Christian
baptism, how accordant is the remark of the
apostle in the epistle to the Galatians, iii.
27. " For as many of you as have heen
baptized into Christ," that is, as his disciples,
" have put on Christ, that is, have entered
into a very intimate union with Christ;
a union in regard to the relation towards
God as his children. How is this union rep-
resented? Not merely by performing a
ceremony, but by performing the appointed
ceremony which symbolically represents
him as having undergone a death on account
of sin, and yourselves as having under-
gone a death imto sin ; a ceremony which
reminds j'ou of him as rising to a state of
triumph and glory, and represents your-
selves as rising to a spiritual and divine life.

Look now at the end of baptism, and
say whether it is answered by less water as
well as more. One can hardly help ex-
claiming, How meagre is the account of

PROFESSOR RIPLEY'S REVIEW OP

217

baptism in this letter ! How materially
does our Christian brethren divest this or
dinance of its significancy I How different
are the considerations which they associate
with baptism, from those with which the
apostles cheered and incited the early be
lievers whenever this ordinance supplied
them with topics of remark !

And we cannot help adding, how much
ought Baptists to feel themselves pecuhar
]y bound to cherish a mortified temper ; to
live not to themselves but to him who died
for them, and into whose death they have
been baptized ; to him who rose again, and
in conformity to whose death they have
by a most significant rite acknowledged
their obligation to walk in newness of life !

Baptism is more than a profession of
faith in a purifying Saviour. It is also a
profession of faith in a Saviour dying, bu-
ried, rising from the dead. Can the death,
the burial, the resurrection of the Saviour
be represented by less water as well as
by more ? What person when he sees a
wet hand applied to a child's, or an adults'
forehead, or a few drops of water scattered
on his face, is by this act reminded of a
dying and a rising Saviour, and of the in-
dividuals death to sin, and resurrection to
spiritual hfe ? So entirely destitute of such
significancy is sprinkling, that we wonder
not at the acknowledgments wliich candid
Psedobaptists make, and at the difficulty
which others feel in reference to the above
quoted passages from the epistle to the
Romans, and irom that to the Colossians.

Since a mistake lies at the foundation of
the argument we have been considering,
the argument manifestly is of no force.
The end of baptism cannot be answered,
unless there be an immersion of the belie-
ver ; hence immersion is essential to the
vaHdity of the ordinance. And hence we
cannot regard as baptized, those who have
not been immersed ; and not regarding them
as baptized. Dr. Griffin's own avowed prin-
ciples will not permit us to unite with them
at the Lord's table, even though we esteem
them as Christians.

From this account of our opinion respect-
ing baptism, it is manifest that it is viewed
in very different lights by Baptists and by
Paedobaptists. In our view, it sustains an
intimate connection witli those events on
Avhich are suspended our dearest hopes, as
candidates for immortality. So that when
we think of the Lord Jesus as delivered for
our offences and as raised again for our
justification, our thoughts naturally recur
to the time when we were buried in bap-
tism, when we voluntarily submitted to an
act which publicly marked us as dead to
sin, and which publicly sealed our avowal
of obligation and our declaration of .serious
purpose to lead a holy life. And O, what

Vol. 3.— Bb.

a reproof is a remembrance of that hour
adapted to convey to our hearts ! Medita-
tion on our having been baptized, suggests
to our minds the fact that we have been
buried with Christ by baptism into death,
and the obligation that " like as Christ was
raised up from the dead by the glory of the
Father, even so we also should walk in
newness of life." Connecting baptism thus
with the history of Christ, and with our ob-
ligations to be conformed to him, it cannot
be surprising that we are always willing
to converse respecting it, and that we de-
sire all Christians to participate in correct
views of it.

We mean not to intimate that those
whose opinions differ from ours respecting
this ordinance, connect with it no gractical
considerations. But many of the consider-
ations which they connect with it are such
as the apostles did not present in connec-
tion with baptism; and a part of those
which the apostles did connect with it they
omit. When we think of this fact, we
wonder not at the long continued con-
troversy ; for the reasonings on the opposite
sides proceed from materially different
views, almost as if they had respect to dis-
connected subjects. The design of Bap-
tism should be the point in controversy.

This design, in our opinion, is not the
same as it is represented by Paedobaptists.
How can the writer of this letter expect,
then, that we should act according to the
consequence which he draws from his opin-
ion of the design ? Let us all, in the first,
place, acknowledge the trutli as to the scrip-
tural design of baptism, and we venture to
promise that he and we will go hand in
hand in observing all things which the
Lord has commanded his disciples.

We would remark in passing, that the
Design of Baptism has been so amply dis-
cussed in the sermon preached, Sept. 1828,
by Professor Chase, before the Boston As-
sociation, and which has recently appeared
in a third edition, that it seems to us unne-
cessary to enter more fully upon this sub-
ject. To that sermon we respectfully invite
the attention of all who seriously wish to
ascertain the truth.

The principle implied in the second rea-
son of this letter, however true in general,
is not appropriate to the matter in hand.
For although "an emblem of purification
ipplied to a part of the body is as effectual
as if applied to the whole body," it by no
means follows that the application of a kw
drops of water to a part of the body is valid
baptism ; because, however such an appli-
cation might be an emblem of purification,
it cannot be an emblem of the other things
which enter into the design of baptism,
and consequently it cannot answer the ends
of baptism. To Dr. Griffin's use of the

218 DR. GRIFFIN'S LETTER ON COMMUNION.

passage of scripture introduced in this con-
nection, John xiii. 1 — 10, we have two ob-
jections to make. First, It was no part of
our Saviour's design to communicate, in
that passage, instruction respecting bap-
tism. Secondly, In order to defend Dr.
Griffin's explanation, there must be con-
ceived to be in our Lord's remark to Peter,
" He that is washed needeth not save to
wash his feet," a strange mixing of figura-
tive and of literal language ; as, He that is
washed (that is, he that has experienced
an inward cleansing) needeth not save to
wash his feet (that is, literally to wash a
part of his body.)

Let the passage speak for itself As one
of the closing acts of our Saviour's life, he
wished' in a striking manner to correct the
disposition which his disciples had manifes-
ted in tlie question, Who shall be great-
est? Accordingly, he prepared to wash
their feet, a service which his disciples,
from the customs of the country, had asso-
ciated with the most menial situation.
Peter could not endure the thought that he
to whom he had always looked up with rev-
erence, as altogether his superior ; he who
stood in the exalted dignity of the Messiah,
should perform for him the most menial
pan of a servant's duty. The Saviour
endeavored to gain the consent of Peter
by assuring him that though he did not
then perceive what was intended by this
transaction, yet when it had been perform-
ed, it should be explained to him. Peter
still declined. Our Lord then solemnly
assured him, " If I wash thee not, thou hast
no part with me." Peter either from over-
flowing affection, or from not entering into
the spiritual import of the Saviour's decla-
ration, exclaimed, " Not my feet only, but
also my hands and my head." Our Lord
then informed him that for the special ob-
ject which he had in view, it was not neces-
sary to receive a general washing of the
body. Just aa a person who has recently
been bathed,* needs only to have his feet
washed, which may have contracted defile-
ment by walking in the dust; so the disci-
ples, having already received a general
cleansing, needed only carefully to preserve
themselves from the defilements to which
they were exposed. To speak without
metaphor, the disciples had already expe-
rienced the general renewing of their hearts.
This they ought not to expect again ; but
their attention should be directed to the

'Though in our translation the same term wash oc-
curs twice in the tenth verse, yet in the original, two
very distinct words are used; one of which rendered
"he that is washed," refers approprialely to abalhinsof
the whole body, while the other, rendered " to wash,"
refers to a partial washing, as that of the hands, or face,
or feet. So that the tentli verse would have been more
correctly translated, "He that has been bathed needed
not Bftve to wash his feet," <tc.

avoiding of sin, and to the cultivating of
those dispositions which characterize the
disciples of the Messiah. The particular
trait, then inculcated, was humility ; humil-
ity, so unfeigned and pervading, as to in-
duce them to perform ibr each other, even
the lowest and most troublesome services ;
which would lead them instead, of inquir-
ing among themselves. Who shall be
greatest ? rather to inquire. Who shall be
the least of all and the servant of all ?

Thus our Lord's design was *not to give
instruction respecting baptism ; nor is there
in this passage any thing in the slightest
degree at variance with the conclusion to
which we arrive by examining the import
of baptism.

In the third statement of this letter there
is certainly much truth: "If the exact form
of baptism were essential to its validity, the
form would have been so clearly defined,
that no honest mind could mistake it." If
certain ends are to be answered by an or-
dinance, and those ends are connected
with a certain outward representation, then
it is necessary that the outward form be
clearly defined ; else such a form may come
into use as may entirely obscure the ends
which the ordinance was intended to an-
swer. If outward forms are appointed as
emblems, they ought to be significant ;
there ought to be a manifest correspond-
ence between the emblem and the thing
signified ; and the more spiritual the dispen-
sation, the more simple and the more easily
understood the emblem. Some men speak
of forms and ceremonies, as being of little
account in respect to the manner of per-
formance and as being subject to modifica-
tions, according to the various circumstan-
ces and opinions of men. A scrupulous
adherence to particular forms they also
represent as contrary to the scriptural na-
ture of Christianity, and as arguing a
grossness of conception in respect to the
divine requisitions. But in such remarks
there is more appearance than reality of
spiritual elevation. If the Head of the
church has appointed certain forms, it doea
not argue a commendable spirituality of
feehng, that a man conceives himself at
liberty to slight those forms. If those cere-
monies, by the manner of their perform-
ance, are adapted and intended to answer
certain ends, does elevation above the
grossness of sense, furnish an adequate ex-
cuse for essentially varying the manner
and connecting with it some other lesson,
or for receiving the intended lesson in some
other than the more obvious Avay, or for
refusing to draw any instruction from a
matter subjected to the outward mnn? We
show the truest regard for God by impli-
citly complying with his injunctions, and
by impressing our hearts with just such

PROFESSOR RIPLEY'S REVIEW OP

219

lessons and in just such a manner as he has
appointed. After all that may be said
about Clirislianity being a spiritual dispen-
sation, and its raising the mind above mere
forms, it becomes us to remember that men
are still only men ; and God has most wise-
ly consulted for the moral improvement of
men by the few simple outward forms, as
well as by the pure precepts, and the glo
rious prospects of Christianity.

Why, then, do honest minds mistake ?
Plainly, because they are not infallible ; and
because they may be under a vast variety
of influences which hinder the reception of
the truth. Are there no other subjects, plain
to a mind unbiassed, yet viewed in a mis
taken manner by minds honest on every
other subject? But suppose any refuse to
examine for themselves ; suppose they either
fear to examine, or hastily think themselves
incompetent to form an opinion ; will they
receive the knowledge of the truth ? Sup-
pose any examine under the influence of
prejudice from various quarters ; suppose
they go not to the proper source of informa-
tion ; is it surprising that they come not to a
true result? We forbear here to press the
fact, that almost every person, who in a
peculiarly conscientious frame of mind reads
what the scriptures declare concerning bap-
tism, becomes shaken in regard to the sprink-
ling of infants and others ; and that scruples
on this subject are often removed by turning
away from the bible, or by thinking that a
person's usefulness at the present day for-
bids him to be a Baptist. And not a few,
there is reason to believe, set their minds at
rest by the persuasion that the inconvenien-
ces attending the adoption of Baptist senti-
ments are so great, that they trust the Lord
will pardon them in this one thing.

Since the form of this ordinance is thus
necessary, we might expect it to be clearly
defined. Dr. Griffin's Iburth reason denies
that it is thus defined. To this point, then,
we now turn our attention.

There are two inquiries which may em-
brace all that needs to be said on this
point. 1st. Is there any thing in the cir-
cumstances in which this ordinance, during
the time of Christ and of his apostles, was
administered, that required divers modes of
administration ? 2d, Is there any peculiar
obscurity in the language which speaks of
this ordinance, by which it is prevented
from having an equally definite meaning
with other language, or by which we are
unable to ascertain that meaning? These
questions have so often been lucidly and
satisfactorily answered in the negative, that
we deem it superfluous on the present occa-
sion to institute a new examination of them.
Those who desire to pursue the investiga-
tion, are referred to the works on baptism,
which have been published during tlie pres-

ent year, and especially to the letters of Dr.
Chapin, published in the year 1820. These
letters, we question whether Dr. Griffin has
ever read ; else he could not expect to change
the opinion of Baptists by statements that
have long since been anticipated and met in
a fair manly way.

But leaving this topic, it has been to us a
matter of surprise, that Dr. Grffiin should
write in so unguarded a manner. He insin-
uates that the three thousand believers on
the day of Pentecost, (See Acts of the Apos-
tles, Chap, ii.) were baptized by eleven
men. Observe the unfairness of this insin-
uation. In the first cihapter, containing an
account of what was transacted previously
to the day of Pentecost, we are informed
that the place of Judas was supplied by the
election of Matthias, so that Matthias " was
numbered with the eleven apostles." Dur-
ing the lifetime, also of our Lord, seventy
disciples were appointed as his public minis-
ters ; two important facts entirely overlooked.
Dr. Griffin intimates that the local situation
of Jerusalem " on the top of a high hill," for-
bids the supposition of there being sufficient
water. Really, one would think this letter
was written for the benefit of very ignorant
people. We take the liberty to refer its
author to the statement of a certain Jewish
writer, who probably knew more about Je-
rusalem than any President of a college in
the United States. He says, "TAe moun-
tains are around about Jenisalem.'''' See
Psalm cxxv. 2. Jerusalem was indeed built
upon hills ; but there were other hills around,
and especially did Mount Olivet tower
above the holy city. Is a hilly country neces-
sarily poorly supplied with water? Who
does not know that on elevated spots springs
may be found, when equally elevated places
are contiguous, and especially in the neigh-
borhood of still higher places ? Dr. Griffin
adds, "far from any river or brook deep
enough for immersion." But must there
necessarily have been a river or a brook ?
From the insinuations which are sometimes
thrown out, one would think Jerusalem must
have been utterly unfit to be the metropolis
of a flourishing country ; a country too
whose prescribed religion required the con-
stant use of water for purifications and ablu-
tions, and all whose male inhabitants were
required to assemble there three times
every year. We have been told that not
many years since, the Jordan was represent-
ed as only an insignificant streamlet, not
sufficiently deep for immersing a man. But
when knowledge had increased so much that
even Baptists could detect the error, this
representation fell into disuse. Who has
ever proved that Jerusalem was sadly des-
titute of water? Does the well known
fact of its having been a very populous city
prove it ? Does tlie fact that the Jews from

220 ^^- GRIFFIN'S LETTER ON COMMUNION.

regard to religion and to cleanliness, made
frequent use of bathing prove it? Does
the molten sea furnished by Solomon for the
service of tlie temple, and which could hold
about seven hundred barrels ; and do the
ten other lavers, each of which held be-
tween nine and ten barrels, prove it? And
what shall we say of the fountain of Siloam
which, according to Josephus, had " water
in it — in great plenty?"* and of the pool
at the sheep gate, with its five porticoes ?

Of what avail, then, is the startling sup-
position respecting the two men brought up
in the centre of the earth? Who could
wonder if men brought up in the inside ol'
the earth shovild commit some very gross
mistakes on various matters that would be
perfectly clear to common men, who had
been brought up on the surface ? Instead
of making such a supposition, we would
rather ask what have been the opinions of
men of learning, of confessed impartiality,
of ability to investigate the subject, and of
sufficient candor to state explicitly the result
of their investigations, though that result
should contradict their previous opinions,
and even their continued practice? To a
few testimonies of this kind, exhibiting the
candid convictions of their authors, respect-
ing the manner in which the ordinance
was originally administered, we will now
attend.

Dr. Campbell, Principal of the Marischal
College, at Aberdeen, Scotland, a minister
of the Presbyterian church, whom k\v have
equalled in the variety and extent, and ac-
curacy of his literary and theological inves-
tigations, has expressed himself in the fol-
lowing maner.

" The word Tcpiro^T; (peritome) the Latins
have translated circumcisio (circumcision,)
which exactly corresponds in etymology ;
but the word Paimijia (baptisma) they have
retained, changing only the letters from
Greek to Roman. Yet the latter was just
as susceptible of a literal version into Latin
as the former. Immersio, (immersion,) an-
swers as exactly in the one case as circiim-
cisio (circumcision) in the other. . . . We
have deserted the Greek names where
the Latins have deserted them, and have
adopted them where the Latins have.
Hence we say circumcision, and not peri-
fomy ; and we do not say immersion, but
baptism. Yet when the language furnish-
es us with materials for a version so exact
and analogical, such a version conveys the
sense more perspicuously than a foreign
name. For tliis reason, I should think the
word immersion a better English name
than baptism, were we now at liberty to
make a choice."!

• .Ipwish War ; Hook v. Chapter iv. § 1.

t Preliminary Dissertations ; VIII. Part II. § 2

In the same author's notes upon the Gos-
pel by Matthew, occur the following state-
ments. Chapter iii. verse 1], ''hi irater — ■

in the Holy Spirit, iv iian — 6»' iyiu inevfiaTi.

English translation, with water — with the
Holy Ghost. Vulgate, in aqua. — in Spiritu
Sancto. Thus also the Syriac and other
ancient versions. I am sorry to observe
that the Popish translators from the Vul-
gate, have shown greater veneration for
the style of that version, than the generali-
ty of Protestant translators have shown
for that of the original. For in this the
Latin is not more explicit than the Greek.
Yet so inconsistent are the interpreters last
mentioned, that none of them have scru-
pled to render tv rw lopSavri, in the sixth
verse, in Jordan, though nothing can be
plainer than that if there be any incongru-
ity in the expression in water, this in Jor-
dan must be equally incongruous. But
they have seen that the preposition in
could not be avoided there, without adopt-
ing a circumlocution, and saying with the
water of Jordan, which would have made
the deviation from the text too glaring.
The word BaTrnffn-' (rendered to baptize,)
' both in sacred authors and in classical,
signifies, to dip, to plunge, to immerse, and
was rendered by Tertullian, the oldest of
the Latin fathers, iingere, the term used
for dyeing cloth, which was by immersion.
It is always construed suitably to this
meaning. Thus it is, cv Han, cv tm lupSavri.
But I should not lay much stress on the
preposition cv, which, answering to the He-
brew J may denote with as well as ifi, did
not the whole phraseology, in regard to
this ceremony, concur in evincing the same
thing. Accordingly, the baptized are said
avaf^aiveiv, to arise, emerge, or ascend, v. 16
OTTO Tov iSuTog, and Acts viii. 39, « row
vSaTOi,from or out of the water. Let it be
observed further, that the verbs paivos and
pavTi^bi, used in scripture for spriiMing, are
never construed in this manner. When
therefore, the Greek word /Sairn^u' (render-
ed I baptize,) 'is adopted, I may say, rath-
er than translated into modern languages,
the mode of construction ought to be pre-
served, so far as may conduce to suggest
its original import. It is to be regretted
that we have so much evidence that even
good and learned men allow their judg-
ments to be warped by the sentiments and
customs of the sect which they prefer.
The true partizan, of whatever denomina-
tion, always inclines to correct the diction
of the spirit, by that of the party."

The following extract is from another
work of the same author. "Another error
in disputation, which is by far too common,
is when one will admit nothing in the plea
or arsjuments of an adversary to be of ^he
smallest weight. In have heard a dispu-

PROFESSOR RIPLEY'S REVIEW OP

221

tant of this stamp, in defiance of etymolo-
gy and use, maintain that the word ren-
dered in the New Testament baptize,
means more properly to sprinkle than to
plunge ; and in defiance of all antiquity,
that the former method was the earliest,
and for many centuries, the most general
practice in baptizing. One who argues in
this manner, never fails, with persons of
knowledge, to betray the cause he would
defend ; and though with respect to the vul-
gar, bold assertions generally succeed, as
well as arguments, sometimes better, yet a
candid mind will disdain to take the help
of a falsehood, even in support of the
truth."*

We now present an extract from Storr's
Biblical Theology, published at Andover,
1826 ; merely premising that Storr was an
eminent theologian in the Lutheran church.
" The disciples of our Lord could under-
stand his command in no other manner,
than as enjoining immersion ; for the Bap-
tism of John, to which Jesus himself sub-
mitted, and also the earlier baptism (John
iv. 1.) of the disciples of Jesus, were per-
formed by dipping the subject into cold
water ; as is evident from the following
passages. Matt. iii. 6, tPaitTi^ovTo tv ru
lop&avr\ were baptized in Jordan, v 16. Imovi
avcfirt aiTo tov vSaro; Jesus ascended out of the
water. John iii. 23- in vSara noWa r]v eKEL be-
cause there was much water there.

" And that they actually did understand
it so, is proved, partly by those passages
in the New Testament, which evidently al-
lude to immersion. Acts viii. 36, &c. "ore
aveffrisav CK tov vSaros when they had come up
out of the water, v. 39. xvi. 12 — 15, Topa
■norajiov at the river. Rom. vi. 4, iweraipriiicv

aura) (rw XjSiTrco) Sta tov /SavTig/xaTog, iva witrep

riytpQrj XpnTo; ck vcKpoiu are buried with him,
(Christ) by baptism, so that as Christ was
raised from the dead, &c. Compare Col.
ii. 12, and 1 Peter iii. 21, where baptism is
termed the antitype (avnrvrrov) of the flood.
And partly, from the fact, that immersion
was so customary in the ancient church,
that even in the third century, the baptism
of the sick, who were merely sprinkled with
water, was entirely neglected by some,
and by others was thought inferior to the
baptism of those who were in health, and
who received baptism not merely by asper-
sion, but who actually bathed themselves
in water. This is evident from Cyprian
(Epist. 69. edition Brem?e, page 185, &c.)
and Eusebius, (His. Eccles. 1. vi. cap. 43,)
where we find the following extract from
the letter of the Roman Bishop Cornelius :
' Novatus received baptism on a sick bed,
by aspersion, (^cptxveen) if it can be said

that such a person received baptism.' ' No
person who had, during sickness, been bap-
tized by aspersion, was admitted into the
clerical office.' Moreover, the old custom
of immersion was also retained a long time
in the western church, at least in the case
of those who were not indisposed. And,
even after aspersion had been fully intro-
duced in a part of the western churches,
there yet remained several, who for some
time adhered to the ancient custom. Un-
der these circumstances, it is certainly to
be lamented, that Luther was not able to
accomplish his wish with regard to the in-
troduction of immersion in baptism, as he
had done in the restoration of wine in the
Eucharist." pp. 290, 291. A few lines
after, speaking of the change of tlie an-
cient custom of immersion, he says, "It
ought not to have been made."*

Storr mentions the wish of Luther re-
specting the use of immersion. In the ap-
pendix to Professor Chase's sermon, is an
extract from the works of Luther, in which
that eminent reformer very explicitly states
his conviction in regard to baptism.

Passing by the concessions which might
be drawn from the commentaries of Mack-
night, and Rosenmueller, and others we in-
vite attention to two or three sentences from
the Thesaurus Ecclesiasticus of Suicer ;
a work in two folio volumes, exhibiting a
digest of the voluminous theological writ-
ings of the Greek Fathers.

" The going under and then rising in
baptism was used, that thus the burial and
the resurrection of Christ might be shad-
owed forth. This is the ancient writers
teach."t

" This going under, and then rising was
in use in the first cenluries which immediate-
ly succeeded the apostolic age. This is
plain from those testimonies of the Fathers
which with sufficient copiousness have al-
ready been adduced.''^

These declarations are abundantly sus-
tained by appropriate extracts from the

* Lectures on Systematic Theology and Pulpit Elo-
quenc«, pp. 294, !i05.

* The preceding extract is from an English translation
of a work in German ; which German work is a transla-
tion from the Latin of Storr's Christian Doctrine, ac-
companied with notes and illustrations, by Professor
Flatl. It is worthy of being known, that the translator
into English has employed certain terms in this connec-
tion, which are not wan-anted by the real opinions of
Storr. We refer to the "caption, or sununary view of
contents" prefixed to the Illustration from wliich the
extract is taken. By referring to the work, our readers
may see that the following sentence introduces this il-
lustration; " Theprimitive7nodeii:asprobubly by immer-
sion." This qualified remark, so poorly adapted to the
Illustration which introduces, did not proceed from
Storr, but from the translator into English. With Sioit
the truth of what he asserts was not a matter of mere
probability, but of moral certainty. The following ex-
I)ress:on deserves also to be specified: "who actually
bathed themselves in water." The words which Storr
uses are, when con-ectly translated were bathed. The
use of the word themselres, intinmting by its connection,
that the baptized performed the operation themselves,
like the Jewish proselytes, did not orieinate with Storr.

t Vol. Lp. 260. Art. avaivu. j p 26L

222 DR. GRIFFIN'S LETTER ON COMMUNION.

Fathers, as any one may see by consult-
ing the work.

See also the result to which this learned
author was led in regard to the subjects of
baptism in the primitive ages, oy his
lengthened and laborious investigation of
the early Christian writers.

" In the first two centuries, no one re-
ceived baptism, unless being instructed in
the faith, and imbued with the doctrine of
Christ, he could testify that he was a be-
liever— on account of these words, He that
helieveth and is baptized. Therefore to
believe preceded. Thence arose in the
church the order of Catechumens. It was
also then the constant custom, that the Eu-
charist should be given to those Catechu-
mens immediately after baptism. After-
wards the opinion prevailed, that no one
could be saved unless he had been bap-
tized. But because formerly the Eucha-
rist was given to adult Catechumens as soon
as they had been bathed in sacred baptism,
this also was appointed to be done in the
case of infants, after Psedobaptism was in-
troduced."*

Such were the sentiments of this learned
man ; sentiments which resulted from
twenty years' indefatigable researching
among the writings of the early Christian
Fathers-t

Had there then, been no departure from
primitive practice, immersion would have
been universal. But can this departure
from the originally established form be jus-
tified ? Yes, say some men ; " because
the change of the ancient custom of im-
mersion, although it ought not to have been
made, destroys nothing that is essential to
this ceremony as it was instituted by our
Saviour." But surely it is essential to this
ceremony that it be the significant action
ordained by our Lord. The change which
human contrivance has introduced may
answer some of the purposes intended, yet
in other respects it destroys the significan-
cy of the ordinance. Immersion expresses
the whole, but any substitute necessarily
omits a part of what was intended to be
expressed. Shall we, then, make void any
part of God's command through a confes-
sedly human contrivance ?

Dr. Griffin's fifth remark, that " if noth-
ing but immersion is baptism, there is no
visible church except among the Baptists,"
is a conclusion of his own forming, for
which we have already disclaimed all re-
eponsibilify. The fact, however, that God
pours out his Spirit upon Psedobaptists in

• Vol. II. p. 1131. Art. Suvalif, IV. b.

t It will be pratifyinc to many of our readers to know
that, by the mtmificence of a ccnerous friend, an e.\ten-
BJve collection of the early Greek and Latin Fathers,
selected with care in Europe, ha."! recently been added
ro tbe litrory of the Newton Theological Institution.

their assemblies, and " at the table of the
Lord," that they " spread around them the
savor of the Redeemer's name by their
holy examples and evangelical eflbrts," and
that they "are a great majority of the
chosen instruments to carry the gospel to
the heathen," can be explained otherwise
than by referring it to the divine acknowl-
edgment of their being churches. The er-
ror which our Pa'dobaptist brethren cher-
ish, though producing injurious effects,
cannot prevent all the consequences which
appropriately flow from the many precious
truths which they maintain. When their
ministers preach repentance towards God
and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ,
clearly and forcibly, God will bless his
truth. When they devote their wealth
and their exertions to the spread of the
gospel, God will bless their efforts, not-
withstanding the error with which they
have enveloped a part of divine truth.
But it becomes them to consider whether,
if they should receive the whole truth of
God, and open their hearts to its whole in-
fluence, a still greater blessing would not
rest upon them, both at home and abroad ;
and wheiher they would not be happily
freed from many perplexing and hurtful
circumstances. It is our belief, that if, with
all their present advantages for growing in
piety, and for usefulness, they also should
abandon error respecting baptism, and
come under the influence of the whole
truth as it is in Jesus, the result would be
inconceivably happy.

What occurs under the sixth head is so
similar to what immediately precedes, that
we deem it unnecessary to make any ad-
ditional explanations. We will only ask,
whether, supposing it to be true, that Pse-
dobaptist " preachers are not church mem-
bers, and therefore have no right to preach,
and certainly are not ministers of Christ,
and therefore have no right to administer
the Lord's supper, and are guilty of awful
profanity in doing this," whether, even sup-
posing all this to be indubitably true. Dr.
Griffin seriously believes that God would
drive them from the earth like Korah,
Dathan, and Abiram? Men sometimes
speak boldly, rather than soberly. What
if we should hear of a profane company
of young men meeting, during a revival of
religion, for the express purpose of cele-
brating in mockery the ordinance of the
Lord's supper; and it should be told us
that He who is long sufi'cring and abun-
dant in mercy, did not cause the earth to
open and to swallow up the offenders ; but
that on the contrary, so marvellous are the
ways of God, there was fastened on the
conscience of one, such a conviction of
guilt that he found no peace till he applied
to that Saviour with whose suflferings he

PROFESSOR RIPLEY'S REVIEW OF

223

had been sporting : Would this exceed the
bounds of behef? The dispensation under
which we are permitted to live does not re-
quire those immediate, outward manifesta-
tions of divine displeasure which were ap-
propriate to a former age.

The remarks under the seventh head and
under the eighth, imply that the refusing
to mingle ourselves with our Psedobaptist
brethren in celebrating the Lord's supper,
is a violation of the spirit of Christian love
and union ; and arises from bigotry and
selfishness. Thus we come back to the
hackneyed common-place in which many
people indulge themselves. And is it Dr.
Griffin that is treading upon this beaten
ground ? a man who seems to perceive on
what principle the Baptists withhold from
uniting with others at the Lord's table, and
who assents to the oorrectness of the prin-
ciple ; a man who has been understood to
vindicate Baptists irom the charge of illib-
erality, and who has been understood to
say that if his sentiments on baptism cor-
responded with those of the Baptists he
would practise as they do in regard to
communion ? Henceforth we will not won-
der when the unreflecting multitude thus
accuse us. We will leave our cause witli
God, and earnestly implore that we and all
our Christian brethren may be more
thoroughly imbued with the spirit of the
Lord Jesus ; that the strife of tongues may
cease ; that whether we or they, are in
fault, error may be exposed, and that under
the mild influences of truth, the church of
the Lord may flourish.

Our hearts were pained by the unkind
remarks under these heads. Let any
Christian solemnly reflect on the endear-
ing relation which subsists among the chil-
dren of God, the expectants of heavenly
bliss ; let him warm his heart by meditat-
ing on the love of Jesus Christ, and by
communing with his Lord and Master, and
we persuade ourselves he will regret that
such a train of thought should have been
expressed, when the conscientious, self de-
nying practice of acknowledged brethren
in Christ was the subject. We judge not
the author of these remarks. We believe
the recollection of his having made them
and of his having permitted them to be
published, must excite some painful emo-
tions. There is, too, so manilest a differ-
ence between the casting of such reflec-
tions, and the manner in which the letter
commences, that one might be excused for
doubting whether both parts came from
the same pen. But so it is. And we are
compelled to place this among the proofs,
that age and experience, dignity and piety,
may swerve from Christian kindness and
rectitude; may be mingled with human
imperfections, and may still have occasion

in brokennees of heart to seek forgiveness
from a Saviour who can abundantly par-
don.

We refuse not to associate at the Lord's
table with other Christians because we are
bigoted, or selfish, or because we wish " to
shut our adherents in by a sort of impas-
sable gulf." The practice for which we
are censured is not recommended to us ex-
cept by a regard to what we think the will
of our Lord. Nor is the practice at all in-
consistent with the purest and most gene-
rous Christian love. For we can love our
brethren with pure hearts fervently, while
yet we do not join with them in every re-
ligious observance. There are occasions,
and those of perpetual occurrence, on which
the expressions of Christian affection are
less questionably genuine, than the occa-
sion afforded by celebrating the Lord's
supper. Our practice does not imply want
of love for the disciples of our Lord ; it
implies conscientious adherance to princi-
ples which we think our Lord has estab-
lished in his church. Nor is our practice
at all inconsistent with the fact, that all true
Christians will commune together in heav-
en ; for the communion of soul which the
redeemed will enjoy in heaven is a diflfer-
ent thing from celebrating the Lord's sup-
per.

The names of the " celebrated Robert
Hall, and of the late excellent Dr. Stillman"
are indeed dear ; but we remember that
our Lord has cautioned his disciples to call
no man master vipon earth. It may be
well also, to mention, that however applaud-
ed Mr. Hall's hberality may be, it pro-
ceeds " entirely on the ground that baptism
is not an indispensable prerequisite to com-
mtmion ;" a principle, the propriety of which
in the commencement of this letter, Dr.
Griffin expressly disowns. As to the " ex-
cellent Dr. Stillman," who is said to have
stood " at the head of the liberal class" in
America, we have reason to believe that
the case is not quite so clear as one would
suppose from Dr. Griffin's remark. But
what if it were 1 Must we be governed by
names'? Our faith must not stand in the
wisdom of men.*

' Since writing the above, the following letter has
been received from a much esteemed and well known
individual, for many years a deacon in the church of
which Dr. Stillman was the pastor,

"Your note is just received, making inquiry respect-
ing Dr. Stillman's sentiments on communion. The
Doctor was a man of a most catholic spirit; and he al-
ways fell so ardent an attachunent to, and such an inti-
mate union with, all whom he believed to be real Chris-
tians, that I think had he consulted his feelings only,
he would have avowed hiiriself an open communionist.
But from all that I ever heard him say on the subject, I
believe he did not consider the practice correct.

" I have heard Dr. Baldwin say that when Dr. Stillman
first caine to Boston, his evangelical brethren in the
ministry of the Pajdoijaptist denomination expected that
he would commime with them, and that their opinion
was grounded on some remarks made by Dr. Stillman,
which were understood by them to be favorable lo such

224

DR. GRIFFIN'S LETTER ON COMMUNION,

Some topics are named in this letter
which do not materially affect the leading
point ; such as, tlie baptism administered
by John, and the purpose for which our
Saviour received baptism. We therefore
omit the consideration of these topics, and
refer tliose who wish to see a brief yet
comprehensive view of them, to the sermon
on the design of baptism, which has already
been named.

Though so far as our present purpose is
concerned, tlie topics just named may be
waived, yet on the general question of bap-
tism tliey ought by no means to be omit-
ted. For the fact that baptism had been
frequently administered by divine author-
ity previously to the final commission of
the apostles, is one of the circumstances
which must be taken into account when we
endeavor to view ourselves as in the same
situation in which the apostles were when
they received that commission. A recent
advocate for sprinkling contends earnestly
(but not more earnestly than he ought)
that in order to know how the apostles
v/ould understand the language of the com-
mission, we must as far as possible conceive
ourselves to be in their situation at that
time. Now applying this principle, we ob-
serve, that tlie disciples of our Lord previ
ously to receiving tlieir final commission
had for several years been witnessing tlie

administration of baptism by tlie divinelj^ fession that tliey are contending about the rite

appointed harbinger of the Messiah, and
had themselves administered baptism under
their Lord's immediate direction. See
John iv. 1, 2. That all these instances of
baptism had a very direct reference to the
Messiah's dispensation, we presume no one
will question. Thus baptism, administered
by divine authority, was to them, when the
commission was last given, no new thing.
Having been accustomed to baptism, how
would they naturally proceed wlien they
were commissioned to go into all tlie world
to teach all nations, baptizing them ?
Clearly they would proceed in the manner
to which they had been accustomed unless
some special direction had been given to
pursue a different course. Such a direction
seems to have been given as to the form of
words in connection with which the ordinance
was to be administered ; but neitlier from the

coinniiniion. The Dr. however, found the brethren of
his church aiid other Baptists unfavorable to the inter-
course, and lie gave it up ; and my opinion is, that he
did not consider it either expedient or correct. In fact
)iaving never suspected hiui, during his life, to favor
open communion, I never asked him particularly as to
his own views on the subject ; and it was not till after
l)is death when Dr. Eplirnim Kliot's pamphlet was pub"
lished, that I had the conversation referred to with Dr.
Daldwin. I never knew him to communicate at the
Lord'.-< table with Pa'dobaptists, nor were any other than
immersed professing believern ever admitted to coiniiui-
nicate wilh his church during the fourteen years iu
wliicli I delightedly sat under his affectionate minis-try.
Very respectfully yowra,

JAM'ii.S Lor.iNc;.

commission itself, nor from tlie subsequent
history of the apostles is there the least
satisfactory evidence, that they were au-
thorized to depart from the original institu-
tion, either as to the action to be performed,
or as to the persons on whom it was to be
performed.

There is one other point to which we
would direct the attention of our readers.
Under the fourth head of this letter, oc-
curs the folloAving sentence : " There is a
great variety in the manner of their [dif-
ferent denominations'] keeping the supper,
administering baptism, performing prayer,
and conducting all tlie forms of public
worship." Thus the manner in which bap-
tism is performed is put upon a level with
the unprescribed circumstances attending
the administration of the Lord's supper, the
performance of prayer, and other forms of
public worship. It has often been intima-
ted, that it is quite as immaterial in what
manner baptism be performed, as it is in
what manner prayer be performed, whetlier
in a standing or a kneeling posture ; that it
is quite as reasonable to hold a controversy
on the question whether we must kneel or
stand in prayer, as on the question, whether
in baptism we must be immersed or not.
Thus Baptists are represented as contend-
ing about a mere circumstance of a reli-
gious rite whereas it is their continual pro-

itself The illustration drawn from prayer
and from the administration of the Lord's
supper, is by no means appropriate. For
whether prayer be performed by a person
kneeling, sitting, standing, or, lying down,
still it is prayer, as no particular manner is
prescribed. Whetlier the Lord's supper be
administered to persons sitting, or reclin-
ing according to tfie custom which prevail-
ed in Palestine, still it is the Lord's supper ;
for we have no directions concerning pos-
ture, and there is nothing wliich is intended
to be expressed by the Lord's supper, that
is inconsistent with either posture. But in
the other ordinance, the form is prescribed,
just as really as it would appear to be, if
the original word, instead of being adoj)ted
or transferred from Greek in to the English
language, had been translated. It would
then have been expressed, in plain English
by the word immersion. Moreover, some-
thing essential to the ordinance, as to what
it is intended to represent, is omitted, if
any thing be substituted for immersion. So
that our controversey is not respecting the
form of baptism, but respecting baptism
itself; not whether persons shall be bap-
tized in this or in that way, but whether they
shal be baptized. Pedobaptists say, any
one of certain things in baptism ; we say
only one of those things is baptism. The
I controversy then is about the thing, not

^x -^:^^

'WS^

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

225

about a circumstance of the thing. The
illustration drawn from prayer and from the
Lord's supper would be opposite, if the
matter in controversy were, whether the va-
lidity of baptism be affected by the circum-
stance of the candidate's standing or kneel-
ing in the water, or by the circumstance
of prayer's preceding or following his im-
mersion. But plainly about mere circum-
stances we have no dispute; andis it notunjust
and unkind to compare the manner of bap-
tism to the posture in prayer, and at the
Lord's table. We repeat it the controversy
is about the thing itself Baptists view
themselves as contending for the very exis-
tence of a Christian ordinance ; as contend-
ing, not whether baptism shall be adminis-
tered in this or that way, but whether it
shall be retained in the church.

The views of other denominations re-
specting baptism are not definite ; with them
immersion, pouring, sprinkling, are all equal-
ly valid baptism. With Baptists, immer-
sion only is acknowledged as baptism.
Other denominations then may without any
peculiar generosity or kindness, invite us to

come to the Lord's table ; for they admit
that we are baptized. We, however, can-
not invite and encourage them without vio-
lating our conscience, because we cannot
consider them as baptized, i. e. immersed,
according to the command of our Lord.
There is then a manifest difference between
the two cases ; and since it is the Psedobap-
tists who have departed from the command,
we confidendy and solemnly ask, who are to
be blamed for the want of union between
them and us ?

We pray that knowledge and holiness
may increase. We call upon all the friends
of Christ to search the scriptures. We
affectionately entreat them to remember his
words. If ye love me, keep my command-
ments; and thus to examine themselves, in
respect to baptism, as well as in respect to
other duties, whenever they think of the me-
morials of his death. And may all who
keep the ordinances as they were originally
delivered, become living proofs that their
baptism is not an unmeaning ceremony, but
a powerful incitement to walk in newnesa
of life.

A MEMOIR

Ot" THE

REV. ROBERT H AJL L,(.m M. \

By 0. GREGORY, L. L. D. F. R. A. S.

Robert Hall, was born at Arnsby, a vil-
lage about eight miles from Leicester, on the
2d of May, 1764. His father was descend-
ed from a respectable family of yeomanry
in Northumberland, whence he removed to
Arnshy in 1753, on being chosen the pastor
of a Baptist congregation in that place. He
was not a man of learning, but a man of
correct judgment and sohd piety, an elo-
quent and successful preacher of the gospel,
and one the first among the modern Bap-
tists in our villages who aimed to bring them
down Irani the heights of ultra-Calvinism to
those views of religious truth v/hich are
sound, devotional, and practical. He was

Vol. 3. — Cc,

I the author of several useful publications, of
which one, the "Help to Zion's Trav-
ellers," has gone through several editions,
and is still much and beneficially read, on
account of its tendency to remove various
often-urged objections against some momen-
tous points of evangelical trutli. He was
often .appointed to draw up the " Circular
Letters" f om the ministers and messengers
of the Northampton Association. One
of these letters, published in 1776, presents,
in small compass, so able a defence of the
doctrine of the Trinity, that it might be ad-
vantageously republished for more general
circulation. This excellent man died in
March. 1791. His character ha.^ been beau-

226

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

tifully sketched by his son, who, in one sen-
tence, while portraying his father, with
equal accuracy depicted himself: " He ap-
peared to the greatest advantage upon sub-
jects where the faculties of most men foil
them ; for the natural element of his mind
was greatness."

The wife of this valuable individual was
a woman of sterling sense and distinguish-
ed piety. She died in December, 1776.

Robert was the youngest of fourteen chil-
dren, six of whom survived their parents.
Four of these were daughters, of whom
three are still living ; the other son ; John,
settled as a farmer at Arnsby, and died in
1806.

Robert, while an infant, was so delicate
and feeble, that it was scarcely expected he
would reach maturity. Until he was two
years of age he could neither walk nor talk.
He was carried about in the arms of a nurse,
who was kept for him alone, and was directed
to take him close after the plough in the field,
and at other times to the sheep-pen, from a
persuasion, very prevalent in the midland
counties, that the exhalations from newly
ploughed land, and from sheep in Uie fold
are salubrious and strengthening. Adjacent
to his fatlier's dwelling-house was a burial
ground ; and the nurse, a woman of integ-
rity and intelligence, judging from his ac-
tions that he was desirous to learn the mean
ing of the inscriptions on the grave-stones,
and of the various figures carved upon them
managed, by the aid of those inscriptions,
to teach him the letters of the alphabet,
then to group them into syllables and words,
and thus, at length, to read and speak. No
sooner was his tongue loosed by this unu-
sual but efficient process, than his advance
became constantly marked. Having acquir-
ed the ability to speak, his constitutional
ardor at once appeared. He was inces-
santly asking questions, and became a great
and a rapid talker. One day, when he was
about three years old, on his expressing dis-
approbation of some person who spoke
quickly, his mother reminded him that he
spoke very fast ; " Ab," said he, " / only
keep at it."

Like many others who where bom in vil-
lages, he received his first regular instruc-
tions (after he left his nui-se's arms) at a
dame's shool. Dame Scotton had the honor
of being the first professsional instructor.
From her he was transferred to Mrs. Lyley,
in the same village. While under their care
he evinced an extraordinary thirst for knowl-
edge, and became a coUecter of books. In
the summer season, after the school-hours
were over, he would put his richly prized
library among which was an Entick's Dic-
tionary, into his pinafore, steal into the
grave-yard Cwhich, from an early and fixed

association, he regarded as his study,) lie
down upon the grass, spread his Dooka
around him, and there remain until the
deepening shades of evening compelled him
to retire into the house.

At about six years of age he was placed,
as a day-scholar, under the charge of a Mr.
Simmons, of Wigston, a village about four
miles from Arnsby. At first, he walked to
school in the mornings, and home again
in the evenings. But the severe pain in
his back from which he suflfered so much
through life, had even then begun to dis-
tress him ; so that he was often obliged to
lie down upon the road, and sometimes his
brother John and his other school-ieilowa
carried him, in turn, he repaying them du-
ring their labor by relating some amusing
story, or detailing some of the interesting
results of his reading. On his father's as-
certaining his inability to walk so far daily,
he took lodgings lor him and his brother at
the house of a friend in the village : after
this arrangement was made, they went to
Wigston on the Monday mornings, and re-
turned to Arnsby on the Saturday after-
noons-

The course of instructions at Mr. Sim-
mons's school was not very extensive ; and
Robert was not likely to restrict himself as
a student, to its limits. On starting from
home on the Monday, it was his practice to
take with him two or three books from his
father's library, that he might read them in
the intervals between the school hours. The
books he selected were not those of mere
amusement, but such as required deep and
serious thought. The works of Jonathaii
Edwards, for example, were among his fa-
vorites ; and it is an ascertained fact, that
before he was nine years of age, he had
perused — and reperused — with intense in-
terest, the treatises of that profound and ex-
traordinary thinker, on the "Afl'ections, " and
on the "Will." About the same time he
read, with a like interest, " Butler's Anal-
ogy." He used to ascribe his early predi-
lection for this class of studies, in great meas-
ure, to his intimate association, in mere child-
hood, with a tailor, one of his father's con-
gregation, a very shrewd, well-informed
man, and an acute metaphysician. Before
he was ten years old, he had written many
essays, principally on religious subjects ; and
often invited his brother and sisters to hear
him preach. About this time, too in one of
those anticipatory distributions of a father's
property, which, I apprehend, are not unu-
sual with boys, he proposed that his brother
should have the cows, sheep, and pigs, on
[their father's death, and leave him " all the
j books." Those juvenile" dividers of the
inheritance," seem to have overlooked their
.' sisters; unless, indeed they assigned them

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL,

227

the furniture. The incident, however, is
mentioned simply to show what it was that
Robert even then most prized.

He remained at Mr. Simmons's school
until he was eleven years of age, when this
conscientious master informed the father
that he was quite unable to keep pace with
his pupil, declaring that he had been often
obliged to sit up all night to prepare the les-
sons for the morning ; a practice he could
no longer continue, and must therefore re-
linquish his favorite scholar.

The proofs of extraordinary talent and
of devotional feeling which Robert had now
for some time exhibited, not only gratified
his excellent parents, but seemed to mark
the expediency and propriety of devoting
him to the sacred office ; but the delicate
health of the son, and the narrow means of
the father, occasioned some perplexity. Mr.
Halltherefore, took his son to Kettering, in
order that he might avail himself of the
advice of an influential and valued friend
residing there, Mr. Beby Wallis. Their in-
terview soon led him to the choice of a suit-
able boarding-school ; but the palid and
sickly appearance of the boy exciting Mr.
Wailis's sympathy, he prevailed upon his
father to leave him at his house for a few
weeks, in the hope that change of air would
improve his health. This gentleman was
so greatly astonished at the precocity of tal-
ent of his youthful visiter, that he several
times requested him to deliver a short ad-
dress to a select auditory invited for the pur-
pose. The juvenile orator often afterward
adverted to the injury done him by the in-
congruous elevation to which he was thus
raised. " Mr. Wallis," said he, " was one
whom every body loved. He belonged to a
family in which probity, candor, and benev-
olence constituted the general likeness: but
conceive, sir, if you can, the egregious im-
propriety of setting a boy of eleven to
preach to a company of grave gentlemen,
full half of whom wore wigs. I never call
the circumstance to mind but with grief at
the vanity it inspired ; nor, when I think of
such mistakes of good men, am I inclined to
question the correctness of Baxter's lan-
guage, strong as it is, where he say.s, ' Nor
should men turn preachers as the river Ni-
lus breeds frogs (saith Herodotus), when
one half moveth before the other is made,
and while it is yet but plain mud P "*

Robert's health appearing much improv-
ed from his short residence at Kettering, he
was placed by his father as a boarder, at
the school of the Rev. John Ryland in (he
neighboring town of Northampton. Mr. Ry-
land was a very extraordinary man, whose
excellences and eccentricities were strange-

' SaiQt's Rest, Preface to Part 11. Original edition.

ly balanced. In him were blended the ar-
dor and vehemence of Whitfield, with the
intrepidity of Luther. His pulpit oratory
was one of the boldest character, and sin-
gularly impressive, when he did not over-
step the proprieties of the ministerial func-
tion. In his school he was both loved and
feared ; his prevailing kindness and benev-
olence exciting affection, while his stern de-
termination to do what was right, as well as
to require what he thought right, too often
kept alive among his pupils a sentiment of
apprehension and alarm. So far as I can
learn, from several who had been under his
care, he taught Greek better than Latin,
and the rudiments of Mathematical science
with more success than those of grammar
and the other languages. His pupils never
forgot his manner of explaining the doc-
trine and application of ratios and propor-
tions ; and they who had ever formed a part
of his " living orrery," by which he incor-
porated the elements of the solar system
among the amusements of the play-ground,
obtained a knowledge of that class of facts
which they seldom, if ever, lost.

Our youthful student remained under Mr.
Ryland's care but little more than a year
and a half; during which, however, accor-
ding to his father's testimony, " he made
great progress in Latin and Greek ;" while,
in his own judgment, the principle of emu-
lation was called into full activity, the habit
of composition was brought into useful ex-
ercise, the leading principles of abstract
science were collected, and a thirst for
knowledge of every land acquired. It should
also be mentioned here, that it was during
the time Robert was Mr. Ryland's pupil that
he heard a sermon preached at Northamp-
ton, by Mr. Robins, of Daventry, whose reli-
gious instruction, conveyed " in language
of the most classic purity," at once " impres-
sive and delightful," excited his early relish
for chaste and elegant composition.

From the time he quitted Northampton
until he entered the " Bristol Education So-
ciety," or academy for the instruction of
young men preparing for the ministerial
office among the Baptists, he studied divin-
ity, and some collateral subjects, principally
under the guidance of his father, with occa-
sional hints from his acute metaphysical
friend, still residing in the same village.
Having, in this interval, given satisfactory
proofs of his piety, and of a strong predi-
lection for the pastorial office, he was placed
at the Bristol Institution, upon Dr. Ward's
foundation, in October, 1778, being then in
his fifteenth year. He remained there un-
til the autumn of 1781, when the president
of the institution reported to the general
meeting of subscribers and friends, (hat
" two pupils, Messrs. Stennet and Hall, had

228

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL

heen contimied upon Dr. Ward's exhibition,
but were now preparing to set out for Scot-
land, according to the Doctor's will."

The Bristol Academy, when Mr. Hall
first joined it, was under the superintend-
ence of the Rev. Hugh Evans, who was
shortly afterwards succeded by his son, Dr.
Caleb Evans, both as president of the in-
stitution, and as pastor of the Baptist church
in Broadmead. The Rev. James Newton
was the classical tutor. Under these able
men he pursued his studies with great ar-
dor and perseverance. He became an ear-
ly riser ; and it was remarked in conse-
quence, that he was often ready to attend
the tutor for the morning lessons, before
some of his fellow-students had commenc-
ed their preparation.

His sentiments at this time respecting his
theological tutor, and the importance of his
studies in general, may be gathered from
the subjoined extracts from two letters to
his father, both written before July, 1780.

" Dr. Evans is a most amiable person in
every respect : as a man, generous and
open-hearted; as a Christian, lively and
spiritual ; as a preacher, pathetic, and fer-
vent ; and as a tutor, gentle, meek, and
condescending. I can truly say that he has,
on all occasions, behaved to me with the
tenderness and affection of a parent, whom
I am bound by the most endearing ties to
hold in everlasting honor and esteem.

" Through the goodness of God, of whom
in all things I desire to be continually mind-
ful, my pursuits of knowledge afford me in-
creasing pleasure, and lay open fresh sources
of improvement and entertainment. That
branch of wisdom in which, above all others,
I wish and crave your assistance is divinity,
of all others the most interesting and im-
portant. It is the height of my ambition,
thai, in some happy period of my life, my
lot may be cast near you, when I may have
the unspeakable pleasure of consulting, on
different subjects, you, whose judgment I
esteem not less than an oracle.

" We poor short-sighted creatures, are
ready to apprehend that we know all things,
before we know any thing ; whereas it is a
great part of knowledge to know that we
know nothing. Could we behold the vast
depths of unfathomed science, or glance in-
to the dark recesses of hidden knowledge,
we could be ready to tremble at the preci-
pice, and cry out, ' Who is sufficient for
these things ?' "

The system of instruction at Bristol com-
prehended not merely the learned languages
and the rudiments o(" science, but a specific
course of preparation for the ministerial of-
fice, including the habit of public speaking.
Essays and appropriate topics were writ-

ten and delivered, under the direction of
the tutors : religious exercises were care-
fully attended to ; and the students were
appointed, in turns, to speak or preach upon
subjects selected by the president. Among
the books first put into Mr. Hall's hands to

Erepare him for these exercises was Gib-
on's Rhetoric, which he read with the ut-
most avidity, and often mentioned in after
life, as rekindling the emotion excited by
Mr. Robins's preaching, improving his
sensibility to the utility as well as beauty
of fine writing, and creating an intense so-
licitude to acquire an elegant as well as a
perspicuous style. He was therefore more
active in this department of academical la-
bor than many of his compeers. Usually
however, after his written compositions had
answered the purpose for which they were
prepared, he made no effort to preserve
them ; but either carelessly threw them
aside, or distributed them among his associ-
ates, if they expressed any desire to pos-
sess them. Some of these early productions,
therefore, have escaped the corrosions of
time. The only one which I have been able
to obtain in an essay on " Ambition," in
which there is more of the tumultuary
flourish of the orator, than he would ever
have approved after he reached his twen-
tieth year. Nor was it correct in sentiment.
The sole species of excellence recommended
to be pursued was superiority of intellect ;
all moral qualities, as well as actions direct
ed to the promotion of human welfare,
being entirely overlooked.

Indeed, there is reason to apprehend that
at this period of his life, Mr. Hall, notwith-
standing the correctness and excellence of
his general principles, and the regularity of
his devotional habits, had set too high and
estimate on merely intellectual attainments,
and valued himself, not more perhaps than
was natural to youth, yet too much, on the
extent of his mental possessions. No won-
der, then that he should experience saluta-
ry mortification. And thus it happened.
He was appointed, agreeably to the ar-
rangement already mentioned, to deliver
an address in the vestry of Broadmead
chapel, on 1 Tim. v. 10. " Therefore, we
both labor and suffer reproach, because we
trust in the living God, who is the Saviour
of all men ; specially of those that be-
ieve." After proceeding, for a short time
much to the gratification of his auditory,
he suddenly paused, covered his face with
his hands, exclaimed, " O ! I have lost all
my ideas," and sat doAvn his hands still hid-
ing his face. The failure, however, pain-
ful as it was to his tutors, and humiliating
to himsellj was such as rather augmented
than diminished their persuasion of what
he could accomplish, if once he acquired
self-possession. He was therefore appoint

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

229

ed to speak again, on the same subject, at
the same place, the ensviing week. This
second attempt was accompanied by a sec-
ond failure, still more painful to witness, and
still more greivous to bear. He hastened
from the vestry, and on retiring to his
room, exclaimed, " If this does not humble,
me, the devil, must have me !" Such were
the early efforts of him whose humility after-
wards became as conspicuous as his talents,
and who, for nearly half a century, excited
universal attention and admiration by the
splendor of his pulpit eloquence.

Our student spent the first summer vaca-
tion after his entering the Bristol institution
under the paternal roof at Arnsby ; and,
in the course of that residence at home, ac-
compained his father to some public relig-
ious service at Clipstone, a village in North-
amptonshire. Mr. Hall, senior, and Mr.
Beddome of Bourton, well known by his
Hymns, and his truly valuable Sermons,
were both engaged to preach. But the lat-
ter, being much struck with the appearance,
and some of the remarks, of the son of his
friend, was exceedingly anxious that he
should preach in the evening, and proposed
to relinquish his own engagement, rather
than be disappointed. To this injudicious
proposal, after resisting every importunity
for some time, he at length yielded ; and
entered the pulpit to address an auditory of
ministers, many of whom he had been ac-
customed from his infancy to regard with
the utmost reverence. He selected for his
text 1 John i. 5, " God is light, and in Him is
no darkness at all ;" and, it is affirmed,
treated this mysterious and awful subject
with such metaphysical acumen, and drew
from it such as impressive application, as
excited the deepest interest.

On the arrival of the summer vacation,
in 1780, he again visited Arnsby ; and dur-
ing the period he then remained at home,
his father became fully satisfied that his
piety was genuine, as well as that his quali-
fications for the office of a preacher were of
a high order. He therefore expressed to
many of his friends his desire that he should
be " set apart to the sacred work." Soli-
citous not to be led aside from a correct
judgment by the partiality of a father, he
resolved that the church over which he was
pastor should judge of his son's fitness, and
recognise their conviction by a solemn act.
The members of the church after cautious
and deliberate inquiry, ratified the decision
of the anxious parent, and earnestly and
unanimously requested " that Robert Hall,
jun. might be set apart to public employ."

" Accordingly," as ihe following extract
from "the Church -book" testifies, on the
13th of August, 1780, " he was examined by
his father before the church, respecting his
inclination, motives, and end, in reference

to the ministry, and was likewise desired to
make a declaration of his religious senti-
ments. All which being done to the entire
satisfaction of the church,* they therefore
set him apart by lifting up their right hands,
and by solemn prayer.

" His father then delivered a discourse
to him, from 2 Tim. ii. 1. Thou therefore,
my son, be strong in the grace that is in
Christ Jesus. Being thus sent forth, he
preached in the afternoon from 2 Thess. i.
7, 8. The Lord Jesus shall he revealed
from heaven, with his mighty angels, in
flaming fire, taking vengeance on them, that
know not God, and. that obey not the gospel
of our Lord Jesus Chii^t. May the Lord
bless him, and grant him great success !"

It is worthy of observation that, on this
solemn occasion, as well as when he preach-
ed at Clipstone, Mr. Hall selected texts of
the class most calculated to elicit those pe-
culiar powers for which he was through life
distinguished.

In little more than a year after Mr. Hall
had been thus publicly designated a
preacher of the gospel, having pursued his
studies at Bristol with great assiduity and
corresponding success, he was, as already
hinted, appointed to King's College, Aber-
deen, on Dr. Ward's foundation. In his

' As the words church, deacon, &c , when used by
congregational dissenters, whether Baptist or Pajdobap-
tist, are employed in senses ditftring from what are cur-
rent among Episcopalians, I annex this brief note to pre-
vent misconception.

Among the orthodox dissenters of the class just speci-
fied, a distinction is always made between a church and
a congregation. A congregation \nc\\iAes Ihe whole of
an assembly collected in one place for worship, and
may therefore comprehend, not merely real Christians,
but nominal Christians, and, it may be, unbelievers, who,
from various motives often attend public worship. The
church is constituted of that portion of tliese who
after cautious investigation, are believed, in the exercise
of judgment apd charity, to be real Christians. It is
regarded as the duty of such to unite themselves in fel-
lowship with a church, and conform to its rules ; and the
admission is by the sutTreige of the members of the re-
spective church ; its connected congregation having no
voice in this matter. A Christian church is regarded as
avolunfary society, into which the members are incor-
porated under the authority of Christ, whose laws they
engage to obey, for the important purposes of promot-
ing the mutual improvement of those who comjiose it
by an orderly discharge of religious duties, and of
bringing others to the knowledge of the truth. Every
such church of Christ is considered as an independent
society, having aright to enjoy its own sentiments, to
choose its own officers, maintain in its own discipline,
admit members, or expel them on persisting in condu -t
unworthy of the Christian profession; without being
controlled or called to an account by any others what-
ever.

Such a church, as a Christian community, observes
the sacrament, or " communion of the body and blood
of Christ," at stated seasons ; the members of other
churclies being admissible, with the consent of the
members present, on any specific occasion.

The officers of such a church consists of bishops or
presbyters(i. e. pastors) and deacons. The latter are
not, as in the Church of England, and among ether
Episcopalians, an order of Ihe clergy, but are Itiynifyi.
Tliey are chosen from amons the members of tlie
church, and theirbusiness is ' to see that the table of the
Lord, the table of the poor, and Ihe table of the minis-
ter be supplied." They attend to the secuhir concern.': of
the church, as a body, and to all that relates to tlie con-
venience of the society, in reference to their public
meetings. In many societies, too, they assist the pastor
in his general superintendence.

230

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL,

journey thither, he was accompanied by Mr.
Josepli Stennett, the son of the late Rev.
Dr. Stennett, and another student Mr. John
Pownall, still living. The two former ol'
these had letters to the venerable Dr. Ers-
Ivine of Edinburgh ; and he again supplied
them with introductions to two eminent
individuals at Aberdeen. This appears
from a letter sent by the doctor, 2d Nov.
1781, to Mr. Ryland of Northampton, from
which as it exhibits his view of the state
of things at Aberdeeu at that period, 1
present a brief extract.

" I had the pleasure of your letter by
Messrs. Stennett and Hall last week.
They appear to me pleasant young men,
and I should have been happy to have had
further opportunities of showing my re-
gard to the children of so worthy parents
than their short stay here allowed.
Though there are many excellent teachers
at Aberdeen, and both they and the minis-
ters are remarkable for purity of morals, I
have some fears, from different accounts,
that the general strain of preaching there
is less evangelical than in several pulpits
in Glasgow or Edinburgh. Principal
Campbell and Dr. Beattie are, in my opin-
ion, able and worthy men ; and my differ-
ence with the first, as to the American war
and the popish bill has not impaired our
mutual esteem. I wrote letters to intro-
duce the young gentlemen to both."

Mr. Hall, for many years afterward,
used often to speak of the affectionate at-
tentions of Dr. Erskine on this occasion ;
and of his own feelings when on taking
leave the venerable man of God exhorted
him to self-vigilance, kissed him, laid his
hand upon his head, blessing him, and
commending him to the Avatcliful care of
the great Head of the church.

Ai the time when he went to Aberdeen,
the reputation of the two colleges. King's
and Marischal College, was almost equally
balanced. At the latter, Principal Camp-
bell and Dr. Beattie, professor of moral
philosophy, had attained a high and merit-
ed celebrity both on account of their lec-
tures and their writings : while at King's
College, the divini'y lectures of Dr. Ge-
rard were much and greatly esteemed ;
and some of the other professors were men
of eminence. Many, therefore, especially
of the divinity students, attended the ap-
propriate lectures at the two colleges.*

' At King's College, during Mr. Ilall's studies there,
Mr. .lohn Leslie was professor of Greek ; Mr. Roderick
Macleod, professor of pliilosopliy, including inatliemat-
ica; Mr W. Ogilvie, professor oi^ humanity ; Mr. James
Dunbar, professor of moral pliilosophy ; and Dr. Alex-
ander Gf-rard professor of divinity. Though sonjc of
these were highly dislinguislied men, Dr. Gerard was
most known to the world of English literature. Amon?
hisworksare "an Essay on Genius," "An Essay uu
Taste." two volumes of valuable Sermons, and his
" Lectures on the Pastoral Care," published in 1799 by
hia son, Dr. Gilbert Gcrurd.

Mr. Hall, in a letter addressed to his
deservedly prized friend the late Dr. Ry-
land, towards the end of this first session
at college, speaks thus of his studies and of
two of the professors :

" We entered the Greek class under Mr.
Leslie, who, though a man of no apparent
brightness of parts, is notwithstanding,
well fitted for his office, being a good gram-
marian, and attentive to the interests of his
pupils. We have been employed in the
class in going over more accurately the
principles of the Greek language, and
reading select passages in Xenophon and
Homer : and I have privately read through
Xenophon's Anabasis, and Memorabilia
of Socrates, several books of Homer, and
some of the Greek Testament; and am
now reading Longini de Snblimitate liber,
which I hope to finish next week."

In the same letter he mentions his read-
ing with Professor Ogilvie, whose versons
of the Latin poets he characterizes as
"extremely elegant." He laments the
want of religious advantages in tliis seat
of learning, and deplores the profanity and
profligacy of many of the students ; one of
whom, he assures his friend, affirmed that
he knew no use even in the word " God,"
except to give point to an oath ! To make
up for this sad deficiency, he adds, " We
have found some agreeable acquaintances
in the New Town, and among them the
sister of Mr. Cruden, the author of tlie
Concordance."

The same letter contains evidence that
he did not confine his attention solely to
classical and mathematical studies. Af-
ter expressing his admiration of the devo-
tional as well as rational spirit that " lives
and breathes" in every page of Edwards,
he adds :

" My thoughts are at present too much
immersed in literary exercises to admit of
long or close application of thought to any
thing else. I have, however, been think-
ing a little on the distinction of natural
and moral ability, and have in my mind an
objection upon which I should be glad to
have your thoughts. It is briefly this : If,
according to Edwards, the will always
follows the last dictate of the understand-
ing, and if it be determined, directed, and
biased by the view of the understanding
what room then is left for any notion of
moral ability as distinct from natural ? or
how can there in this case be any depravi-
ty of the will, without supposing a prior
defect in the understanding? Since the
will, if it be wrong in its bias, is first led to
that bias by the understanding; and where
tlien the possibility of a moral iimbililij

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

231

consisting with a natural ability ? This I
hope to have some conversation with you
upon when I have the happiness of seeing
you. I have with me Edwards on the Will,
and have lately perused it often ; and the
more I read it the more I admire."

The lamented death of Sir James Mack-
intosh has left a blank which none can ade-
quately fill, with regard to Mr. Hall's char-
acter, habits, and the development of his
intellectual powers at this period. On ap-
plication, however, to an esteemed friend.
Professor Paul, he has kindly communicat-
ed a few particulars, which I shall give in
his own language.

" What I now transmit is drawn from
the college records, from the recollection of
Dr. Jack, principal of King's College, and
formerly for three years a class-fellow of
Mr. Hall, and from my own knowledge ;
for I, also, was a contemporary of Mr
Hall, having commenced my first year's
studies when he commenced his fourth.
It appears from the album that Mr. Hall
entered college in the beginnmg of Novem-
ber, 1781. His first year was spent princi-
pally under the tuition oi: Mr. Professor
Leslie, in the acquisition of the Greek lan-
guage ; his second, third, and fourth years
under that of Mr. Professor Macleod, when
he studied mathematics, natural philosophy
and moral philosophy. He took his degree
in arts (i. e. A. M. degree) on the 30th of
March, 1785. Principal Jack says that he
attended the professor of humanity, Mr.
Ogrilvie, during the four years he was at
college, both for Latin and natural history ;
but as there is no record of the students of
the humanity and natural history classes,
this fact depends wholly on the principal's
recollection. I learn from the same source
that Sir James Mackintosh and Mr. Hall
while at college read a great deal of Greek
in private, and that their reputation was
high among their fellow-students for their
attainments in that language. Principal
Jack also bears testimony to Mr. Hall's
great success in his mathematical and phi-
losophical studies, and affirms that he was
the first scholar of his class, in the various
branches of education taught at college.
During one of the sessions the principal
was member of a select literary society,
consisting of only eight or ten students,
of which society Sir James and Mr. Hall
were the distinguished ornaments. None
of Mr. Hall's college exercises are now to
be found in this place ; but my impressions
correspond with those of the principal, that
his acquirements were of the very first or-
der ; and as Sir James left college before I
entered, having received his A. M. degree
30th March, 1784, there was no one at col-

lege in my time who could be at all put in
competition with Mr. Hall, But it was not
as a scholar alone that Mr. Hall's reputa-
tion was great at college. He was consid-
ered by all the students as a model of cor-
rect and regular deportment, of religious
and moral habits, of friendly and benevo-
lent alTections."

To this concise summary I subjoin the
few particulars which I gathered from Sir
James Mackintosh himself.

When these two eminent men first be-
came acquainted, Sir James was in his
eighteenth year, Mr. Hall about a year
older. Sir James described Mr. Hall as
attracting notice by a most ingenuous and
intelligent countenance, by the liveliness
of his manner, and by such indications of
mental activity as could not be misinter-
preted. His appearance was that of health
yet not of robust health ; and he often suf-
fered from paroxysms of pain, during which
he would roll about on the carpet in the ut-
most agony; but no sooner had the pain
subsided than he would resume his part in
conversation with as much cheerfulness
and vivacity as before he had been thus
interrupted. Sir James said he became
attached to Mr. Hall, " because he could
not help it." There wanted many of the
supposed constituents of friendship. Their
tastes at the commencement of their inter-
course were widely different ; and upon
most of the important topics of inquiry
there was no congeniality of sentiment :
yet notwithstanding this, the substratum of
their minds seemed of the same cast, and
upon this Sir James thought the edifice of
their mutual regard first rested. Yet he
ere long became fascinated by his brillian-
cy and acumen, in love with his cordiality
and ardor, and " awe-struck" (I think that
was the term employed) by the transpa-
rency of his conduct and the purity of his
principles. They read together ; they sat
together at lecture, if possible ; they walk-
ed together. In their joint studies they
read much of Xenophon and Herodotus,
and more of Plato ; and so well was all
this known, exciting admiration in some, in
others envy, that it was not unusual as they
went along for their class-fellows to point
at them and say, " There go Plato and
Herodotus.''^ But the arena in which they
met most frequently was that of morals
and metaphysics ; furnishing topics of in-
cessant disputation. After having sharp-
ened their weapons by reading, they often
repaired to the spacious sands upon the
seashore, and still more frequently to the
picturesque scenery on the banks of the
Don, above the Old Town, to discuss with
eagerness the various subjects to which
their attention had been directed. There

232

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

was scarcely an important position in Ber-
keley's Minute Piiilosopher, in Butler's
Analogy, or in Edwards on the Will, over
which tliey had not thus debated with the
utmost intensity. Night after night, nay.
month after month, for two sessions, they
met only to study or to dispute ; yet no
unkindly feeling ensued. The process
seemed rather hke blows in that of weld-
ing iron to knit them closer together. Sir
James said, that his companion as well as
himself often contended for victory, yet
never, so far as he could then judge, did
either make a voluntary sacrifice of truth,
or stoop to draw to and fro the serra
^oyojiaxiai, as is too often the case with or-
dinary controvertists. From these discus-
Bions, and from subsequent meditation
upon them, Sir James learned more as to
"principles (snch. at least he assured me
was his delioerate conviction) than from all
the books he ever read. On the other
hand, Mr. Hall through life reiterated his
persuasion, that his friend possessed an in-
tellect more analogous to that of Bacon
that any person of modern times ; and
tliat if he had devoted his powerful under-
standing to metaphysics, instead of law
and politics, he would have thrown an un-
usual light upon that intricate but valuable
region of inquiry. Such was the cordial,
reciprocal testimony of these two distin-
guished men. And in many respects —
latterly I hope and believe in all the most
essential — it might be truly said of both
" as face answereth to face in a glass, so
does the heart of a man to his friend."

It will be seen from the first of the se-
ries of letters inserted in the volume, that,
shortly after Mr. Hall's return to Aberdeen
in November, 1783, he received an invita-
tion from the church at Broadmead to asso-
ciate himself with Dr. Caleb Evans, as the
assistant pastor ; an invitation which he
accepted with much doubt and diffidence.
After some correspondence it was arranged
that Mr. Hall should reside at Bristol, in
the interval (of nearly six months) be-
tween the college sessions of 1784 and 1785,
and then return to Aberdeen to complete
his course. In this important session, from
the beginning of November, 1784, to May,
1785, he seems to have devoted himself
most sedulously to his studies ; especially
the Greek language, with moral and intel-
lectual philosophy, and those otJier depart-
ments of inquiry which are most intimate-
ly related to theology. During the ses-
sion, too, he attended Campbell's lectures
at Marischal College, and frequently profit-
ed by the doctor's expository discourses,
delivered once each fortnight; while he
generally attended public worship at the
church where Mr. Abercromhy and Mr.
Peters, both regarded as holding correct

sentiments, were the alternate preachere-
He had now lost his chosen companion,
the sharpener of his faculties by animat-
ed yet friendly debate ; and he sought
for no substitute in society, but resolved to
turn the deprivation into a benefit, by a
more arduous application to his literary
pursuits, and by cultivating habits of med-
itation. " I now," said he, in a letter to his
father, " find retirement prodigiously sweet,
and here I am entirely uninterrupted and
left to my own thoughts." In this disposi-
tion he commenced and concluded the
session.

By the time Mr. Hall had thus complet-
ed his academical course, his mental pow-
ers, originally strong, had attained an ex-
traordinary vigor ; and with the exception
of the Hebrew language, of which he then
knew nothing, he had become rich in ht-
erary, intellectual, and biblical acquisition.
On resuming his labors at Broadmead, in
conjunction with Dr. Evans, his preaching
excited an unusual attention, the place of
worship was often crowded to excess, and
many of the most distinguished men in
Bristol, including several clergymen, were
among his occasional auditors.

This popularity not only continued, but
increased, until he removed to another
sphere of action. The brilhancy and force
of his eloquence were universally ac-
knowledged ; while, in private life, his in-
structive and fascinating conversation drew
equal admiration. Yet it ought not to be
concealed (for I simply announce his own
deliberate conviction, frequently expressed
in after-life) that at this time he was very
inadequately qualified for the duties of a
minister of the gospel. He had, it is true,
firmly embraced and cordially relied upon
those fundamental truths which are com-
prehended in the declaration, " He tliat
Cometh unto God must believe that He is,
and that He is the reward er of them that
diligently seek him ;" and he often expia-
ted, with much originality and beauty,
upon the Divine attributes, and constantly
exhorted men to adhere closely to the path
of duty ; yet, not often from the higher,
namely, the evangelical motives, to pure,
and benevolent, and holy conduct. His
knowledge of Christianity, as a system of
restoration and reconciliation, was compar-
atively defective and obscure; and he felt
but little alive to those peculiarities of the
new dispensation, upon which, in maturer
life, he loved to dwell. In his preaching
he dealt too much in generalities, or en-
larged upon topics which, though in a cer-
tain sense noble and inspiring, and thus
calculated to elevate the mind, did not im-
mediately flow from the great scheme of
redemption, which it was his especial of-
fice to disclose. The extent of God'o

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

233

matchless love and mercy; the depth of
the mystery of his designs ; the inexhaus-
tible treasury of his blessings and graces ;
the wonderfid benefits flowing from the
incarnation, humiliation, and sacrifice of
the Son of God ; the delightful privileges
of the saints ; were themes to which he re-
curred far less frequently than in later days;
and he persuaded himself that this was not
very wrong, because his colleague, Dr. Ev-
ans, who had " the care of the church,"
adverted so incessantly to the doctrines of
our Lord's Divinity and atonement, or
spiritual influence and regeneration, as to
leave room for him to explore other regions
of instruction and interest.

It is possible that Mr. Hall, from his hab-
it of self-depreciation, may have a httle
overcharged this picture : yet the notes of
several of his sermons, preached from 1785
to 1789, taken down by one of the congre
gation, and which are now in my posses-
sion, confirm, to a considerable extent, the
existence of the serious defect which he
subsequently so much deplored.

Considering his early age, twenty-one,
it was manifestly unfavorable to the correct
development of his character as a preach
er, that in August, 1785, only three months
after his quitting Aberdeen, he was appoint-
ed classical tutor in the Bristol Academy,
on the resignation of Mr. Newton. Thai
additional appointment he held for more
than five years, and discharged its duties
with marked zeal and activity, and with
commensurate success. At this period of
his life he was celebrated as a satirist, and
would overwhelm such of his associates as
tempted him to the use of those formidable
weapons with wit and raillery, not always
playfiil. Aware, however, that ihis propen-
sity was calculated to render him unamia-
ble, and to give permanent pain to others
(a result which the generosity of his dispo-
sition made him anxious to avoid,) he en-
deavored to impose a restraint upon him-
self, by writing the essay on the '• Charac-
ter of Cleander ;" in which he exposes,
with just severity, that species of sarcasm
to which he believed himself most prone ;
and thus, by its publication, gave to others
the opportunity, when he slid into this
practice, of reproving him in his own lan-
guage.

It seems to have been remarkably, and

be evinced by a few extracts from the
journals of two of his constant friends.

. Mr. Fuller writes, " 1784, May 7.
Heard Mr. Robert Hall, jun., from -He
that increaseth knowledge incrcaseth sor-
row.' Felt very solemn in hearing some
parts. The Lord keep that youn^ man !"

Again, " 1785, June 14. Taken up with
the company of Mr. Robert Hall, jun.; feel
much pain for him. The Lord, in mercy
to him and his churches in this country,
keep him in the path of truth and right-
eousness."

In like manner, Dr. Ryland : " June 8,
1785. Robert Hall, jun., preached wonder-
fully from Rom. viii. IS, 'For I reckon
that the sufferings of the present time are
flot worthy to be compared to the glory
that shall be revealed in us.' I admire
many things in this young man exceeding-
1}^, though there are others that make me
fear for him. O that the Lord may keep
him humble, and make him prudent!"

Again, " June 15. Rode to Clipstone to
attend the minister's meeting. R. Hall,
jun., preached a glorious sermon, on the
immutability of Gfod, from James i. 17,
' The Father of lights, with whom is no
variableness, nor shadow of turning.' "

Again, " 1786, June 13. Sent ofi" a let-
ter to Robert Hall, jun., which I %vrote
chiefly in answer to one of his some
months ago, wherein he replied to mine
concerning some disagreeable reports from
Birmingiiam : added some new hints re-
specting another matter lately reported.
O that God may keep that young man in
the way of trutli and holiness."

It hence appears, that Dr. Ryland, who
was nearly twelve years older than Mr.
Hall, and had known him from his child-
hood, did not rest satisfied with silent la-
mentations. This exceflent man, fearing
that his young friend was about to precipi-
tate himself into a very dangerous course,
sought by kind but strong expostulation to
rescue him from the peril ; and thus ad-
dressed him :

"My very dear Friend,

" The fullest consciousness that I have a
right to call you so, as really feeling an
earnest and tender concern for your wel-

doubtless mercifully, overruled, that during! fare, and the recollection that you appa

this period of Mr. Hall's history, though
his more judicious and wise friends were
often grieved by the free and daring spec-
ulations which he advanced in private, he
never promulgated direct and positive er-
ror from the pulpit. And thus they who
were filled with apprehension on account
of sallies in conversation would listen with
delight to his public addresses. This will
Vol. 3. — Dd.

rently allowed it when I last saw you, en-
courages me to write to you: though I
may as well tell you at once that I am
going to write to you in the same strain of
complaint and censure which I have been
constrained to use before. And indeed my
fears and grief were never excited to such
a degree concerning you as they now are,
I still hope, however, you have much love

234

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

to God ; and I trust so much conviction of
my sincere friendship, that you will not
say of me as one said of Micaiah, ' I hate
him, for he is always saying evil of me.'
Indeed, the things that grieve me I shall in-
dustriously conceal from everybody as long
as I can ; but I fear they will spread fast
enough : for if you openly utter all your
mind, there are not many wlio will mourn
in secret over the report.

" It gave me extreme uneasiness to hear
this week, of the general disgust you had
given to your former friends at Birmingham
on your last visit. Verily I wish that nei-
ther you, nor I, nor others may fight for
the truth with infernal weapons. I would
wish to feel in my inmost soul the tenderest
pity for the most erroneous men in the
world, and to show all proper respect, to
men of science, and men who are regular
in their outward conduct. Nor should I at
all approve of violent or harsh language, or
like to speak my opinion of the state of
individuals. But at the same time, I can-
not but think that the lusts of the mind may
as effectually ruin a man as 'the lusts of
the flesh.'' And I must get a good way
towards Socinianism myself before I have
any strong hope that a Socinian, living
and dying such, will see the kingdom of
God. When the merciful Jesus declared,
' He that believetia shall be saved,' &c., I
cannot believe that he meant simply, that
he shall be saved who believes that Jesi(s
teas not an impostor, and who believes the
doctrine of the resurrection. But these
two articles are, I believe, the whole of
Dr. Priestley's Christianity, and if once I
Avere to think this Christianity enough to
carry a man to heaven, I should not, I fear
be very strenuous in my endeavors to con-
vince men of the danger of self-righteous-
ness, and the necessity of a reliance on the
atonement. Oh ! my dear friend, can I
conceive that your mind was deeply im-
pressed with a sense of the divine purity
and the justice of God's law, when you
could utter so vain and vile a speech as
this?"

The doctor then cites the language im-
puted to Mr. Hall. It implied, that if he
were the Judge of all, he could not con-
demn Dr. Priestley. After animadverting
strongly upon the phrase which he under-
stood was actually employed, he proceeds
thus :

" It is, I am sure, not maiievolence, but
sincere love, that makes mc jealous of you.
May the Lord keep you. I Avish you
would look over afresli the epistle to the
Galatians and examine whether your charity
is as chaste as Paul's. I allude to a proverb
you have doudtlcss heard — ' Charity is an

angel while she rejoiceth in the truth, a
harlot when she rejoiceth in iniquity ;' em-
bracing those whom she should rather pity
and weep over.

" Study to enter into the very spirit of
Paul's discourse, 1 Cor. i. 18— 31, or Gal. ii.
15, 21 ; and if this is consistent with suppos-
ing it would be unfair for God to punish
any man for rejecting the gospel, who un-
derstood chymistry and philosophy, why,
then retain your favorable opinion of th©
sal'ety of Socinians.

•' Receive this as a proof of the affection
with which I am

" Your faithful friend

"J. Ryland."

Many high-spirited young men, we caa
readily imagine, would have treated such
a letter as this with contempt ; while others
would have replied to it in a lofty tone of
surprise and indignation. But Dr. Ryland's
young friend, notwithstanding the errors
into which his impetuosity had hurried him,
had too much generosity to regard as in-
sulting what he knew was dictated by al-
fection ; and therefore, anxious to show
that he could bear reproof, and be thankful
for it, he promptly replied :

"My dear Friend,

" I have just received your letter, and
think it of so much importance as to de-
serve an immediate answer. Accordingly
without the least delay, I have set myself
to reply to it. I am exceedingly obliged
to you for your friendly expostulation, be-
cause I know it is the effusion of a pious
and benevolent heart that wishes me well.
With respect to the conversation at Bir-
mingham, to which you allude, I shall con-
ceal nothing."

He then, at the same time that he denies
I he precise language that was imputed to
him, states what he did really say ; and
aims to justify the sentiment which he had
maintained : disclaiming, however, any ap-
proximation to Socinian doctrine.

" You seem to suspect I am far gone in
Socinianism ; but in this, my dear friend,
give me leave to say. you are utterly mis-
taken. Since I first began to reflect, I do
not recollect a time when 1 was less in-
clined to Socinianism than at present. I
can truly say, it would remove from me all
my salvation and all my desire,"

Again reverting to the expression, he
adds,

" Allowing it to be improper, or too
strong, I can only say, it does not belong to
all to speak equally temperately ; that the

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

235

crime of expression can only be judged
from the feelings, and that 1 am certain I
did not utter it with any lightness of heart
but with deep feelings of earnestness and
eincerity. Your charge of imprudence I
cordially admit ; and now see, with more
clearness than I formerly did, that the im-
prudent should never come into company
with the malicious.

" I had more to say ; but have no room.
I sincerely thank you for your letter, and
shall always be extremely grateful for
your correspondence, with good wishes,
and your prayers.

" Beheve me, as ever,

" affectionately yours,

"R. Hall, junior."

These letters would not have been in-
serted after the lapse of fifty years, but for
the salutary lesson which they supply.
If Christian friendship always manifested it-
self in such fidelity as is here evinced, and
uniformly experienced so kind and ingenu-
ous a reception, what a different aspect,
in a few years, would the Christian world
assume I

When Mr. Hall was about twenty-three
years of age, he had an opportunity of
hearing Mr. Robinson, his predecessor at
Cambridge, preach ; and was so fascinated
with his manner as to resolve to imitate it.
But after a few trials he relinquished the
attempt. The circumstance being after-
ward alluded to, he observed, " Why, sir,
I was too proud to remain an imitator.
After my second trial, as I was walking
home, I heard one of the congregation say
to another, 'Really, Mr. Hall did remind
us of Mr. Robinson !' That, sir, was a
knock-down blow to my vanity ; and I at
once resolved that if ever I did acquire repu
tation, it would be my own reputation, be-
longing to my own character, and not be that
of a. likeness. Besides, sir,* if I had not been
a foolish young man I should 'have seen how
ridiculous it was to imitate such a preacher as
Mr. Robinson. He had a musical voice 'and
was master of all its intonations; he had won-
derful self-possession, and could say what he
pleased, when he pleased, and fiow he
pleased ; while my voice and manner were
naturally bad ; and far from having self
command, I never entered the pulpit with-
out omitting to say something that I wished
to say, and saying something that 1 wished
unsaid : and besides all this, I ought to
have known that for me to speak slow was
ruin." " Why so ?" " I wonder that you,
a student of philosophy, should ask such a
question. You know, sir, that force, of
momentum, is conjointly as the body and
velocity ; therefore, as my voice is feeble

* Mr. Hall very frequently repeated the word *■;> i
his conversation, capeciaUy if he becaino amma:ed.

what is wanted in body must be made up
in velocity, or there will not be, cannot be
any impression."

This remark, though thrown off hastily,
in tinreserved conversation, presents the
theory of one important cause of the suc-
cess of his rapid eloquence.

Shortly after this, Mr. Hall was, for the
first time, in Mr. Robinson's society ; I be-
lieve in London. Mr. Robinson Avas afflu-
ent in flatteries for those who worshipped
him, while Mr. Hall neither courted flattery
nor scattered its incense upon others. In
speaking of the Socinian controversy, the
elder indulged in sarcasm upon "juvenile
defenders of the faith," and made various
efforts to " set the young man down," which
tempted Mr. Hall to reply that " if he ever
rode into the field of public controversy,
he should not borrow Dr. Abbadie's boots.''^
This enigmatical retort* Mr. Robinson un-
derstood, and probably felt more than Mr.
Hall had anticipated ; for he had about
that time quitted the field, put off " the
boots," and passed to the verge of Socini-
anism. In the course of some discussions
that iblloAved, Mr. Hall, as most of those
who were present thought, completely ex-
posed the dangerous sophistry by which
Mr. Robinson endeavored to explain away
some very momentous truths. Mr. Robin-
son, preceiving that the stream of opinion
fell in with the arguments of his young op-
ponent, and vexed at being thus foiled, lost
his usual placidity and courtesy, and sud-
denly changed the topic of conversation,
saying, " The company may be much
better employed than by listening to a raw
school-boy, whose head is crammed with
Scotch metaphysics." Nothing but a
consciousness that the " raw school-boy"
had defeated him would have thus thrown
him off his guard.

In 1788, Mr. Hall, weary of the solitude
to which he was often subjected, as a mere
lodger, and anticipating marriage in the
course of a few months (an anticipation,
however, which was not realized,) hired a
house ; his sister Mary, afterward Mrs.
James, kindly consenting to superintend
his domestic concerns. From a letter which
he then wrote to his father I extract a few
passages.

" Feb. lOth. 1788.

" We have a great deal of talk here
about the slave-trade ; as I understand,
from your letter, you have had too. A pe-
tition has been sent from hence to parlia-
ment for the abolishing it ; and a commit-

' The allusion was to the defence of the Divinity of
our Lord, published in French, by Dr. Abbadie in his
■' Vindication of the Truth of the Chrislian Religion ;"
a work from which Mr. Robinson was Ihoucht to ha¥e
borrowed many of the arguments in his " Pica for th^
Divinity," &c witUout acknowieUginent.

236

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

lee ie formed to co-operate with that in Lon-
don, in any measures that nia}- be taken
to promote their purpose. At Bristol much
opposition is made by the merchants and
their dependents, who are many, perhaps
most of them, engaged in it. Our petition
was signed by eight hundred, or upwards;
which, considering that 7>(> appti.catiun has
been made to any, we tliink a great num-
ber. Many tilings have been written in
the papers on both sides: some pieces I
have written myself under the signature
Britannicus, which I purpose to get print-
ed in a k\v pamphlets, and shall send one
of them to you. The injustice and inhu-
manity of the trade are glaring, and upon
this ground I mainly proceed : upon the
policy of abolishing it I treat lightly, be-
cause I am dubious about it ; nor can it be
of great consequence to the question in
hand ; for, if it be proved cruel and unjust
it is impious to defend it

'• I am afraid the abolition will not take
place speedily, if at all. The trading and
mercantile interest will make great outcry ;
the scheme will be thought chimerical, and
after producing a few warm speeches, will,
I fear, die away."

********

"My own temper, 1 know, needs some
correction, and it will be my daily endeav-
or to mend it : it wants gentleness. Mr.
M has done me much good by con-
vincing me, from his own example, to what
f)erfeclion a temper naturally keen and
ofty may be carried."
********

" So far, I am happy that my duty and
my gratification lie in the same direction :
so that every step I take towards improve-
ment may be a step tov.'ards real pleasure.
One inconvenience, indeed, I labor under
with respect to my temper, by being con-
nected with my sister: and that is, she
never tries ity

A serious trial of another kind now,
however, awaited Mr. Hall — a painful
misunderstanding between him and his
friend and colleague Dr. Evans. It con-
tinned not only to disturb the minds of
both, but, as might be expected, to create
partisans among their respective friends,
and indeed to endanger the peace of the
chvirch at Broadmead, for more than two
years. I have read various written papers,
and some pamphlets, which relate to this
painful affair; and cannot but conclude
that, like many others, it originated in such
trifling misconceptions as, in more felicitous
circumstances, neither party would have
suffered to disturb his thoughts (or an hour.
A few hasty expressions, retorted by oth-
ers both hasty and strong, tempted the
doctor and his friends to accuse Mr. Hall

of ingratitude, and a want of deference to
his superior in age and station ; he, in his
turn, repelled the accusation, in language
too natural to a young man glowing with
a lofty spirit of independence : and thus,
new charges and fresh recriminations arose.
The interposition of friends availed but
little; for their unhallowed passions be-
came ignited too. After many montha
spent in this unseemly strife, a meeting
between the belligerent parties was held,
in the presence of two friends of each, at
the Mansion House, the Mayor of Bristol
being one of the persons chosen by Dr.
Evans. No beneficial effects resulted from
this meeting; the individuals, who hoped
by their interposition to ensure the restora-
tion of amity, having long before ceased to
be impartial judges in the affair. The
parties on both sides, who were convened
on the occasion, published their respective
statements ; from which it appears that one
of them thought Mr. Hall justifiable and
censured Dr. Evans ; while the other ap-
proved of the doctor's conduct, and con-
demned that of Mr. Hall.

It Avill not, then, be expected that I should
draw from the obscurity which time has
cast over them more particulars relating to
this unhappy collision. Nor, indeed, should
I have adverted to it, had it not operated
strongly in preparing Mr. Hall for his re-
moval from Bristol. Whatever regret it
might occasion him, on subsequent medita-
tion it excited no self-reproach, nor left any
malevolent feeling. On the decease of
Dr. Evans, which took place in 1791, his
former colleague prepared an inscription
for his monument; and he wrote the fol-
lowing letter to his brother-in-law, Mr.
Isaac James, in reply to that which an-
nounced the doctor's death.

» Cambridge, Av^. 12, 1791.
"Dear Brother,

" The contents of your letter received
this day have affected me more than al-
most any tiling of the kind I ever met with
in my life. It is in all points of view a
most solemn event ; but, from obvious cir-
cumstances, to me it cannot fail of being
peculiarly so. It is truly affecting to recol-
lect the friendship that so long subsisted
between us, and that it should end so un-
happily in a breach that admits of no re-
pair, no remedy ! Yet, though 1 feel most
pungently upon this occasion, I am happy
to be able to join with you in declaring that
my conscience is not loaded with guilt.
Abating too much of an unhappy violence,
I have the mens conscia. recti. Were the
circumstances to occur again, a breach
would, as before, be inevitable. But
though, in injustice to myself, I say thug
mucli, there is no one more disposed to la-

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL,

237

merit the deceased than myself, or who
has a truer sensibility of the real virtues of
his character. I have written to Mr. Higgs,
and therefore I need say the less to you
upon these melancholy topics. The chief;
purpose, indeed, of my troubling you at
present is to request you will be so kind as
to give me the earliest and most particular
account, of every thing that passes at his
funeral; the persons present, the sermon,
the impression of the event, deep no doubt
and awful, the whole state of things at
Bristol, their future prospects and inten-
tions, every thing relating to these matters
that you know. The situation of the fami-
ly and the church, though I doubt not I am
the object of their joint abhorrence, I most
sincerely compassionate. May God guide
and comfort them. I tliink you and all ray
friends ought now to bury all that is past
and renew a connection with the church,
if their temper will permit you. My
friends will most oblige vie by carrying it
respectfully to the doctor's family and
memory. ' Anger may glance into the
bosom of a wise man, but it rests only in
the bosom of fools ;' and our best improve-
ment of the death of this useful servant of
God will be to imitate his excellences and
forget his errors. Pray write as soon as
possible. I shall be extremely impatient
till I hear. I am dear brother,

" Your affectionate brother,

" R. Hall."
" To Mr. Isaac JamesP

Before this time it was generally appre-
hended that Mr. Hall's sentiments had, on
some momentous points, deviated consider-
ably from the accredited standards of even
moderate orthodoxy; and he had given
much pain to some of his Baptist friends
on account of his views with regard to re-
baptizing. Some correspondence took place
between him and the Broadmead church
on these subjects: and, as well that the
sentiments he then really held may be
known, as that the extent of his declension
into positive error may be judged of from
his own language, I shall here insert the
frank exposition of his opinions, which he
addressed to the church when he was on
the eve of dissolving his connection with it.

" TJmrsday, Dec. 9th. 1790.
"My dear Brethren,

" Every token of your respect and at-
tachment sensibly affects me ; and, as you
have requested me to explain myself on
those sentiments to which I alluded as
reasons of separation, I think it a duty I
owe to myself and to you to give you all
the satisfaction in my power.

" 1st. In the first place, I am a firm be-

liever in the proper divuiity of Jesus
Christ ; in the merits of Christ as the sole
ground of acceptance in the sight of God,
without admitting works to have any
share in the great business of justification :
and in the necessity of Divine influence
to regenerate and sanctify the mind of
every man, in order to his becoming a
real Christian. Thus far in the affirmative.

" 2dly. In the second place, I am not a
Calvinist, in the strict and proper sense of
that term. I do not maintain the federal
headship of Adam, as it is called, or the
imputation of his sin to his posterity ; and
this doctrine I have always considered, and
do still consider, as the foundation of that
system. I believe we have received from
our first parents, together with various
outward ills, a corrupt and irregular bias
of mind ; but, at the same time, it is my
firm opinion that we are liable to condem-
nation only for our own actions, and that
guilt is a personal and individual thing.
I believe in the doctrine of the Divine de-
crees, and of course in the predestination
of all events, of which the number of the
finally saved is one. But this appears to
me a different thing from the doctrine of
absolute election and reprobation, as it had
ever been explained by Calvinists, which
does not meet my approbation. Without
going into a large field of metaphysical
discussion, this is all I think it requisite to
say respecting my orthodoxy ; but there
are two other points which have occasion-
ed a good deal of conversation, and from
some quarters a good deal of censure ;
upon which I shall therefore beg leave to
explain myself in a few words.

" 3dly. I am, and have been for a long
time, a materialist, though I have never
drawn your attention to this subject in my
preaching: because I have always con-
sidered it myself, and wished you to con-
sider it, as a mere metaphysical speculation.
My opinion, however, upon this head is,
that the nature of man is simple and uni-
form ; that the thinking powers and facul-
ties are the result of a certain organization
of matter ; and that after death he ceases

to be conscious until the resurrection.^^
********

" Much has been said upon my opinions
respecting baptism, and I am happy to
have this opportunity of explaining my
sentiments on that subject in particular, as
it affects, not only the propriety of my
former relation to this church, but of any
future connection I may form with any
other Christian society. On this point
much mistake, much misrepresentation, I
hope not voluntary, has taken place ; and
on this account I trust you will excuse my
dwelling upon it a little more particularly
than its importance in other respcctis might

238

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

eeeni to justify. It has been lield out to the
world by noine that 1 am not a lioptist
I am, both in respect to tlio subject and to
the mode of this institution, a Baptist.
To apply this ordinance to uiiants appears
to me a perver.«ion of tlie intention of the
sacred institution; aixl the primitive, the
regularproper mode of aiiministration I take
to be immersinn. Still it appears tome that
tjprinkling'. tliough an innovation, does not
deprive baptism of its essential validity, so
as to put the person that has been sprinkled
in adult age. upon a footing with the un bap-
tized. The whole of my sentiments
amounts to this ; I would not myself bap-
tize in any other manner tJiau by immer-
tiion. because I look upon immersion as the
ancient mode, that ii best represents the
meaning of the original term employed,
and the substantial import of this institu-
tion; and because I should think it right to
guard against the spirit of innovation, which
in positive rites is always dangerous and
progressive : but I should not think my-
self authorized to rebaptize any one
who has been sprinkled in adult age. I
shall only remark, in addition to what I
have already said upon this point, that if
it be a sufficient objection to my union
with a Baptist congregation ; then, as all
Christendom is composed of Baptists or
Pjedobaptists, it amounts to my exclusion,
as a minister, from every Christian society
throughout the whole earth : an interdict
equally ab-surd and inhuman, founded
upon a conduct merely negative in chimeri-
cal situations seldom or never likely to oc-
cur.

" I have thus, in compliance with your
wishes, and with all the perspicuity in my
power, in a few words explained to you
my religious opinions, with a more particu-
lar view to the subjects on which I may
be supposed most to err ; and this avowal
I have made, partly as a testimony of the
respect I bear you, and partly to vindicate
my character from any suspicion of ambi-
guity or reserve ; but not at all with the
remotest wish to win popularity or to
court your suffrages ; for at present it is
as little in my power to accept any invita-
tion to continue, as it may be in your in-
clination to give it, as I hold myself en-
gaged in honor as a probationer for six
months to a respectable society at Cam-
bridge. May peace and prosperity attend
you.

" I am, your friend and brother,

" With the greatest respect,

"R. Hall."

The vexations and perplexities in which
Mr. Hall had been for some time involved
doubtless facilitated his removal to another
sphere of action. And he who duly medi-

tates upon the way in which the great
Head of the church renders the movements
of his providence subservient to his merci-
ful purposes in redemption, will, I am per-
suaded, trace the superintending hand on
this occasion.

Mr. Robinson, the pastor of the church
at Cambridge with which Mr. Hall waa
now about to be connected, was a man of
extensive powers, of some genius, and of
considerable industry and research. Fas-
cinating as a preacher, delightful as a com-
panion, perseveringly skilful in the insinua-
tion of his sentiments, his influence could
not but be great. From the profession of
orthodox opinions, he had passed by a
rather rapifl transition, not to Socinianism,
but far beyond, to the very borders of infi-
delity ; such, at least, was the substance of
his declaration to Dr. Priestley, whom he
thanked for preserving him from that aw-
ful gulf Vain speculation was substituted
for knowledge, faith, and experience, con-
fession and prayer but seldom made a part
of the public worship which he conducted,
his effusions before sermon consisting al-
most altogether of ascriptions of praise ;
and the congregation became so transform-
ed and deteriorated in consequence, that
among the more intelligent classes, with
oidy two or three exceptions, " he was es-
teemed the best Christian who was most
skilled in disputation," not he who evinced
most of the " spirit of Christ." The ma-
jority of the poorer members, however,
escaped the contagion, and were ready to
co-operate with the late Mr. Foster, who
was then the senior deacon, and another
of the deacons, who equally deplored the
evils which had fallen upon them. Cordi-
ally attached to those doctrines which they
regarded as fundamental, and therefore as
constituting the basis of church union, they
were preparing to call upon the whole body
to consider the expediency of requesting
Mr. Robinson to resign, when his sudden
death at Birmingham, just after he had
been preaching in Dr. Priestley's pulpit,
rendered such a measure unnecessary.
On the news of this event reaching Cam-
bridge, Mr. Foster, who was then on his
death-bed, made it his last request to some
of the most influenital men in the church,
that they would never consent to the ap-
pointment of a Socinian eis Mr. Robinson's
successor.

From this account of the slate of the
church at Mr. Robinson's decease, it will
appear how difficult it was to select a suc-
cessor who would be approved by all;
how difficult., also, for that successor to
walk steadily in the path of duty.

Mr. Hall, who by this time had attained
a high reputation as a preacher, was invit-
ed, in June or July, 1790, to preach at Cam-

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

239

'bridge for one month ; after which the invi-
tation was renewed for a longer term. In
July the following year, he was invited to
take the pastoral charge ; the letter an-
nouncing his acceptance of the important
trust will be found in another part of this
volume.

In these transactions and their conse-
quences still unfolding, the wisdom and
mercy of God are strikingly manifested.
There was at that time no man of eminence
among the Baptists, besides Mr. Hall, who
could for a moment have been thought of
by the church at Cambridge as a fit suc-
cessor to Mr. Robinson ; nor was there any
Baptist church and congregation with
which he could become connected with the
same prospect of being useful and happy,
according to the views he then entertained.
Had Mr. Hall's religious principles and
feelings been such in 1790 and 1791 as they
became a few years afterward, not even
his talents would have made them palata-
ble ; and a connection, had it been formed,
would soon have been dissolved: on the
other hand, had the church been decidedly
and entirely Socinianized he could not
conscientiously have become its pastor.
The providential correlation soon began to
thow itself Their looseness of sentiment
on many points, which even then he thought
momentous, led him to enforce them fre-
quently with the utmost energy ; while his
known freedom of opinion on other points,
which they also had been led to canvass
freely, preserved him ii-om the odium of
orthodoxy. Thinking themselves liberal
and unshackled, they could not but con-
gratulate one another that tiieir new pastor,
a man of splendid talents, was almost as
liberal and unshackled as fhey were.
Then again, their want of devotional seri-
ousness, by the force of contrast, heighten-
ed his estimate of the value of true piety ;
and this produced an argumented earnest-
ness and fidelity, which they first learned
to tolerate, and afterward to admire. Thus
by the operation of an incessant action and
reaction, continued for years, each party
exerted a salutary influence on the other ;
and at lengrth both church and pastor be-
came so distinguislied for piety, harmony,
and affection, that they who had knovvn
and lamented their former state were com-
pelled to exclaim, -'This hath God
wrought."

The death of Mr. Hall's father, which
occurred in March, 1791, had indeed tend-
ed greatly to brin^' his mind to the state
of serious thoutrht with which he entered
upon the pastorial office. Meditatin? with
the deepest veneration upon the unusual
excellences of a parent now for ever lost
to him, he was led to investigate, with re-
newed earnestness, the truth as well as

value of those high and sacred principles
from which his eminent piety and admira-
ble consistency so evidently flowed. He
called to mind, too, several occasions on
which his father, partly by the force of
reason, partly by that of tender expostula-
tion, had exhorted him to abandon the
vague and dangerous .speculations to which
he was prone. Some important changes
in Mr. Hall's sentiments resulted from an
inquiry conducted under such solenm im-
pressions ; and among these may be men-
tioned his renunciation of materialism,
which he often declared he "buried in his
father's grave."

Attentive to the voice of heavenly ad-
monition, thus addressing him trom various
quarters, he entered upon his new duties
with earnest desires that he might be able
" to commend himself to every man's con-
science in the sight of God." Feeling that
to him was consigned tlie charge of trans-
ibrming, with God's assistance, a cold and
sterile soil into a fruitful field, he determin-
ed not to satisfy himself with half-meas-
ures, but proceeded to expose error, and
defend what he regarded as essential truth.
The first sermon, therefore, which he de-
livered at Cambridge, after he had assum-
ed the office of pastor, was on the doctrine
of the atonement, and its practical tenden-
cies. Immediately after the conclusion of
the service, one of the congregation, who
had followed poor Mr. Robinson through
all his changes of sentiment, went into tlie
vestry, and said, " Mr. Hall, this preaching
won't do for us : it will only suit a congre-
gation of old women." " Do you mean my
sermon, sir, or the doctrine ?" " Your doc-
trine?'' " Why is it that the doctrine is fit
only lor old women?" "Because it may
suit the musings of people tottering upon
the brink of the grave, and who are eager-
ly seeking comfort." " Thank you, sir,
for your concession. The doctrine will not
suit people of any age, unless it be true ; and
if it be trite, it is not fitted lor old woman
alone but is equally important at every age."

This individual, and three or four other
men of influence, with about twenty from
tlie poorer classes, shortly afterward with-
drew from the congregation, and met to-
lirether on the Sunday evenings at a pri-
Viite house. The then Rev. William
Freud, fellow and tutor of Jesus College,
an avowed Socinian. became their religiou.s
instructor. This separate assembly, how-
ever, did not continue many months; for
the person at whose house they met wa;;,
ere long, taken up and tried for sedition,
and convicted ; and the proceedings against
Mr. Frend, on account of \\U pamphlet en-
titled "Peace and Union.'" which for .so
long a time kept the University at Cam-
bridge in i state of great agitation, aaJ

240

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

which ended in his expulsion from it, drew
away his attention from the little band of
seceders.

Mr. Hall's ministerial labors, at this in-
teresting period of his lilb, were blessed
with the happiest results, when the benefit
iseemed likely to be for a wliile suspended
by the intrusion of violent political discus-
sion. The impression made throughout
Europe by the French revolution of 1789
was such, that not merely here and there
an individual indulged in political specula-
tion, but almost every man threw himself
into the vortex of controversy. The cler-
gy of every order and station, the laity of
every rank and class, yielded alike to the
impulsion ; and he who did not declare his
decided and cordial adhesion to one or oth-
er of the contending parties might expect
the censure of both, for his want of spirit
or of principle. Cambridge, hitherto cliar-
acterized as the whig university, was, at
this epoch, split into the most violent party
divisions, and the public was deluged with
sermons from the pulpit, and pamphlets
from the press, in which the respective ad-
vocates of " things as they are," and of
"things as they should be," defended their
opposite views with the utmost zeal, and too
often with the most uuhecoming rancour.

At such a season Mr. Hall, then under
thirty years of age, was not likely to main-
tain an entire silence. When a man's
qaiescence was sufficient to render his
principles equivocal, he was certainly not
one who would make a secret of his opin-
ions. He thought that political ethics had
almost ceased to be referable to any princi-
ple of pure ethics.

He hesitated not to avow that the grand
■object of all good government must be
to promote the happiness of the govern-
ed, to assist every individual in its attain-
ment and security. He regarded a govern-
ment chiefly anxious about the emoluments
■of office, or aiming to consolidate its own
power at home and to aid the efforts of
despots abroad, while it neglected the com-
fort and welfare of individuals in middle or
lower life, whose burdens it augmented by
u mistaken course, as a government that
should be comlitutionally opposed by every
lawful means.

He gave to such subjects, also, more
than political considerations. He looked
•upon those European governments which
were founded on oppression, and trampled
on the natural rights of man, as operating
most fatally in the extinction of light and
virtue. He regarded the conditions of
those who tyrannize, and of those who are
the objects of tyranny, as each productive of
a numerous and distinct class of vices ;
and thought that the consequent darkness,
ignorance, and criminality of the general

mass under despotic governments, iu great
measure, it" not entirely, incapacitated them
for the pure and elevated enjoyments of
heaven. It was hence a permanent convic-
tion of his mind, " that he who is instru-
mental in perpetuating a corrupt and wick-
ed government is also instrumental in un-
fitting his fellow-men for the felicity of the
celestial mansions." Could it then be
matter of surprise that, believing and feel-
ing all this, he should exult when " tlie
empire of darkness and of despotism had
been smitten with a stroke which sounded
through the universe ;" or, when other
ministers of the gospel were signalizing
themselves by opposing this view of things,
that he should, for a short intervaf, be
drawn aside from pursuits more congenial
with his prevailing tastes, and, in some im-
portant respects, I thhik, more compatible
with his holy calling, and at once endeavor
to prove that '• Christianity is consistent
with a love of freedom," and that true
Christianity will prevail most where genu-
ine freedom is most diffused and best under-
stood ?

Cordial, however, as was Mr. Hall's at-
tachment to a cause in which he conceived
man's best interests to be closely interwo-
ven, and strong as was his hatred of des-
potic measures, or what he regarded as
sucli, either at home or abroad, I do not
think that even their joint operation Avould
have overcome his repugnance to writing,
had it not been for skilful abetters, who
first worked upon his feelings, and then ex-
torted from him the promise of preparing
a work for the public. Such, if I have not
been misinformed, was the origin of his
first pohtical pamphlet ; and such, I know,
from his own declaration, often repeated,
was the origin of the eloquent and power-
ful " Apology for the Freedom of the
Press." The evening after the event oc-
curred 1o which he alludes in the " Apolo-
gy," he attended a periodical meeting of
a book-society, constituted principally of
members of his own congregation, and of
Mr. Simeon's, and visually denominated
Alderman ImPs Club, that distinguished
ornament of Mr. Simeon's congregation
being the treasurer. Every person pre-
sent expressed himself in terms of the
strongest indignation at the insult offered to
Mr. INIusgrave ; every one thought it high-
ly desirable that some man of talent at
Cambridge should advocate the principles
maintained by the friends of liberty, es-
pecially of those who avowed evangelical
seniiments, and the necessity for their
united activity, in the present state of the
country and of Europe. Mr. Hall spoke
as decidedly as any of them with regard
to the urgent necessities of the case; when
they all, having brought hira precisely into

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL,

241

the position at which they were aiming,
exclaimed that it was he to Avhom alone
they could look in this exigency. " Alder
man Ind, you know, sir," said he, " was an
excellent man ; pure as a seraph, and gen
tie as a lamb. I thought that if he felt
roused, if he could join with the rest in
urging me, I might bring all hesitation to a
truce ; and so, in an evil hour, I yielded to
their entreaties. 1 went home to my lodg-
ings, and began to write immediately : sat
up all night ; and, wonderful for me, kept
up the intellectual ferment for almost a
month ; and then the thing was done. I
revised it a little as it went through the
the press ; but I have ever since regretted
that I wrote so hastily and superficially
upon some subjects brought forward,
which required touching with a master-
hand, and exploring to their very founda-
tions. So far as I understand the purely
political principles which are advanced in
that pamphlet, they are, I believe, correct :
at all events they are mine still. But, I
repeat it, I yielded in an evil hour; es-
pecially if I had any wish to obtain per-
manent reputation as a political writer.
Perhaps, however, the pamphlet had its
use in those perilous times." Such was
Mr. Halfs account of this publication.
How far it indicates the spirit of self-de-
preciation, in which, almost throvigh life,
he characterized his own productions, they
who are best acquainted with the " Apolo-
gy" will be most competent to decide ; un-
less, indeed, their prepossessions and preju-
dices should disqualify them for deciding
aright.

But, whatever might be Mr. Hall's opin-
ion of this work, it does not seem to have
been regarded bj'- the public as of little
value. Three editions were called for, 1
believe, within less than six months ; and
then the author not sanctioning a republi-
cation, various editions were printed and
circulated surreptitiously. Its more splen-
did and impressive passages were repeat-
edly quoted in the periodicals of the day,
and many of its arguments were cited as
perfectly conclusive. It was also widely
circulated in America: and is there still
regarded as having been powerfully influ-
ential in diftusing those liberal political
principles which, of late, liave acquired so
marked an ascendency in Britain.

Mr. Hall, however, experienced such in-
conveniences from his political celebrity,
as induced him to recede, not from his
principles, or from the avowal of them in
private, but from the further advocacy of
them in public. It forced upon him the so-
ciety of men whose conduct and character
he could not approve ; it tended to draw
him, much more than he could conscien-
tiously justify, from retirement and study ;

Vol. 3. — Ee.

and thus, ere long he became of opinion
to adopt his own words, " that the Chris-
tian ministry is in danger of losing some-
thing of its energy and sanctity ,"by em-
barking on the stormy element of political
debate." His elegant eulogium on Dr.
Priestley, in his first pamphlet, and the
warm terms of admiration in which he
used to speak of him in private, tempted
many to fancy, and to say, that he also
was a Socinian at heart ; and although his
preaching became more and more distin-
guished by the introduction and energetic
application of evangelical truth, he still
found himself often so equivocally placed
as to render his denial of" Socinianism
quite imperative. On one of these occa-
sions, Mr. Hall having, in his usual terms,
panegyrized Dr. Priestley, a gentlemen
who held the doctor's theological opinions,
tapping Mr. Hall upon the shoulder with
an indelicate freedom from which he recoil-
ed, said, "Ah! sir, we shall have you
among us soon, I see." Mr. Hall, startled
and offended by the rude tone of exulta-
tion in which this was uttered, hastily re-
plied, '■'Me among you, sir ! me among you !
Why, if that were ever the case, I should
deserve to be tied" to the tail of the great
red dragon, and whipped round the nether-
most regions to all eternity !"

Notwitlistanding the reasons Mr. Hall
thus had for some degree of reserve, yet in
this, as in every period of his life, he dis-
played a remarkable relish for social inter-
course. He did not court the society of
literary men ; indeed, he rather shrank
from it, because he felt the risk of having
his thoughts too much engrossed by mere
matters of language or of science : he had
acquired enough of both to value them
greatly ; yet he desired to regard them
principally as subservient to the higher
purposes of his profession. Besides this,
the philosophy of mind, in which he took
extreme interest was then but little cultivat-
ed at Cambridge. Happily, however, the
leading individuals in his congregation
were very intelligent and well-informed
able to appreciate his talents justly, and
skilful in bringing his conversational pow-
ers into full action. With one or other of
these he usually spent his evenings, se-
lecting most frequently those who possess-
ed the enjoyments of domestic life, and
often stealing in earlier than he was expect-
ed, that he might for an hour share in the
gambols and gayety of the children.

He was, but only for a short time, an im-
itator of Dr. Johnson. Some years after-
ward, when reminded of this, he replied,
"Yes, sir: I aped Johnson, and I preached
Johnson ; and I am afraid with little more
of evangelical sentiment than is to be
found in his Essays : but it was youthful

242

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

folly, and it was very great folly. I might
as well have attempted to dance a horn-
pipe in the cumbrous costume of Gog and
Magog. My puny thoughts could not
sustain the load of the words in which I
trieil to clothe them."

There needed not, in truth, the principle
of imitation to produce great similarity in
some important respects between these two
extraordinary men. They manifested the
physical difference between a melancholic
and a cheerful temperament ; in conse-
quence of which, the one was slow and
measured in utterance, the other rapid and
urgent. But, in conversation, both evinced
a ready comprehension of the whole sub-
ject, a quick and decisive accuracy in an-
swering, and a perfect self-dependence.
They both disliked a protracted debate,
and would sometimes terminate a discus-
sion, when it was growing tiresome, by a
strong and pointed observation which it
was difficult to encounter. Both were
alike in exhibiting a rather more than ordi-
nary degree of faith in things of a preter-
natural or mysterious description. In both
too, there were the similarities of acute in-
tellect united with splendid imagination ;
and of a natural majesty of mental and
moral genius which commanded veneration.
But in the correction of his faults, and the
improvement of his virtues, Mr. Hall pos-
sessed, in his superior piety, an immease
advantage over Dr. Johnson.

In argument he was impetuous, and
sometimes overbearing ; but if he lost his
temper he was deeply humbled, and would
often acknowledge himself to blame. On
one of these occasions, when a dsicussion
had become warm, and he had evinced un-
usual agitation, he suddenly closed the de-
bate, quitted his seat, and, retiring to a re-
mote part of the room, was overheard by a
lady, who was just entering, to ejaculate
with deep feeling, " Lamb of God ! Lamb
of God ! calm my perturbed spirit !"

Mr. Hall's personal habits, not only at
tlie time of which I am now speaking, but
in a certain degree through life, though
not precisely those of an absent man, were
those of one whose mental occupations
kept his thoughts at a distance from vari-
ous matters of ordinary observance, and
made him regardless of a thousand things
which most persons never forget. Thus.
on his return from an evening visit, if not
watched, he would take a wrong hat or
great-coat; if not sought after by some of
the congregation, he would mistake the
proper eveninjr of a week-day service,
having in such cases been so absorbed in
study, as to lose a day in his reckom'iig ; for
the same reason, he often mistook the day
or the hour of an ajipointmenf ; when on
my of his journeys to London he engaged

to take up the letters of his friends, it was
not unusual, after his return, to find them
all in his portmanteau, or in his great-coat
pocket. These, or similar instances of for-
getfulness, occurred daily; but, exciting
the attention of his affectionate and watch-
ful friends, they seldom exposed him to se-
rious inconvenience.

None of these peculiarities sprang from
an affectation of singularity ; they simply
marked an inattention lo things of minor
importance. Nor was there united with
them a regardlessness of the proprieties of
society, a disdain of such civilities and at-
tentions as were usual in the classes with
whom he most associated. He had never
aimed to acquire a facility in the manners
and habits of genteel hie; but he had a
native ease and grace, which was obvious-
ly distinguishable from any acquired habit
It was a grace that could neither be bought
nor borrowed ; on all proper occasions
heightened by the dignity which naturally
comported with his character and office ;
and uniformly blended Avith that genuine
simplicity which often accompanies intel-
lectual greatness, and is always, if I mis-
take not, an attribute of moral greatness.

Several particulars in the preceding ac-
count of Mr. HaU'sfirstyears at Cambridge
will be illustrated by the following brief
sketch, which I have received from a gen-
tleman who had the most favorable oppor-
tunities, as well as the requisite taste and
discrimination, for correctly estimating his
character.

" I had but a slight acquaintaiiee idth
Robert Hall from 1790 to 1793: from
thence to the end of 1796 I knew him inti-
mately. At that period his creed was im-
perfect, wanting the personality of the
Holy Spirit, and wavering between the
terrors of Calvin and the plausibilities of
Baxter.* His infirmities, which were in-
creasing, he concealed with dexterity, op-
posed with vigor, and sustained with un-
common patience. In his ministerial situa-
tion he Avas far from easy ; and he was ve-
hemently severe upon Robinson for leaving
his church a wilderness, and bequcatliing
his successor a bed of thorns.

"His religious conversation in company
was not frequent, and for the most part doc-
trinal; but, in private, his experimental
communications were in beauty, elevation,
and compass beyond all I ever heard. The
memory of a man of seventy-tiiree will
not afford particulars; and the general im-
pression can neither be obliterated nor ex-
pressed.

'• In his manners he was a close imitator
of Dr. Johnson ; fond of tea-table talk, and
of the society of cultivated females, who

■ Thin jitira-iHiilniV will
respeoUd corretjioodent.

:t3 o( my truly

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

243

had the taste to lend him an ear, and the
ability requisite to make attention a favor.
He has confessed to me the taking thirty
cups of tea in an afternoon, and told me
his method was to visit four families, and
drink seven or eight cups at each.

" He knew, as well as any man, what
bad men were, and what good men should
be ; yet was often wrong in his judgment
of individuals. From this deficiency in
the knowledge of mankind, he sometimes
trusted his false and abused his true friends :
when he perceived his error he changed
his conduct, but, I suspect, very seldom
confessed his mistake.

" He did not then read much ; but was
probably more hindered by pain than by
indolence. A page, indeed, was to him
more serviceable than a volume to many.
Hints from reading or discourse, passing
through his great mind, expanded into
treatise and systems, until the adopted
was lost in the begotten ; so much so, that
the whole appeared original. I am per-
suaded, however, that when I knew him he
had not by many degrees, attained his
meridian. I should regret my incapacity
to do him justice, and give you assistance,
were I not persuaded that only the bud
was exhibited to me, while the bloom and
the fruit were reserved for those more de-
serving to be happy."

I had the privilege of becoming first
known to Mr. Hall in January, 1797. Du-
ring that year we dined daily at the same
table : the next year we met almost every
morning to read together : and for some
years afterward scarcely a week passed
in which I was not three or four times in
his society. When I first became acquaint-
ed with him I was young, and ignorant of
nearly every thing but the most rudi-
mental knowledge of language and sci-
ence ; of which I possessed just enough to
employ as instruments of inquiry. I was
eager to acquire information ; but ran
some risk of turning my mind to that
which was useless, or merely showy, in-
stead of directing its best energy to that
which was truly valuable. In such cir-
cumstances, to be allowed the friendship
and enjoy the advice and assistance of
such a man was among my richest bless-
ings. Scarcely a thought worth preserv-
ing, scarcely a principle of action worth
reducing to practice, scarcely a source of
true enjoyment, but I derived from him, or
I was led to receive, or to appreciate more
correctly through his agency. If, then, for
some pages, my name should occur more
often in immediate association with that
of my beloved and reverend friend than
may seem consistent with ordinary rules,
may I be freed from the charge of ego-
tism? csjiecially, if I assure the reader,

that while nothing affords me more pleas-
ure, nothing awakens more gratitude to
the Father of Mercies, then the retrospect
of the intellectual and higher than intellec-
tual delights which were then mine, few
things more humble me than the conviction
that though I enjoyed them so long, I suf-
fered them to pass away without commen-
surate improvement.

Mr, Hall kindly admitted me to the pri-
vacy of his study, in addition to the ad-
vantage of frequent intercourse with him
in the society of his friends. Desirous to
assist others in forming their estimate of
this extraordinary individual, I shall not
merely speak of his character, habits, and
pursuits, but occasionally introduce some
of his conversational remarks ; confining
myselfj however, to such as from their
brevity always occur to my thoughts in
the ipsissima verba originally employed.
If I do not succeed in depicting the man,
which indeed I feel conscious is far beyond
my powers, I may at least attempt to de-
scribe him as he then appeared to me.

When I first saw Mr. Hall I was struck
with his well-proportioned athletic figure,
the unassuming dignity of his deportment,
the winning frankness which marked all
that he uttered, and the peculiarities of the
most speaking countenance I ever contem-
plated, animated by eyes radiating with
the brilliancy imparted to them by benevo-
lence, wit, and intellectual energy. When
he spoke, except in the most ordinary chit-
chat, to which however he seldom descend-
ed, he seemed not merely to communicate
his words, but himself: and I then first
learned the difference between one who
feels while he is speaking, and whose com-
municative features tell you that he does,
and one who after he has spoken long and
with apparent earnestness still does not
feel. I then learned also, that though tal-
ents may convey their results to others,
and activity may carry on others in ita
stream ; yet there is something distinct in
the structure of a great mind which never
can be so transferred to another as to be-
come its native characteristic. Mr. Hall
had a buoyancy and playfulness when
among his select friends, which were re-
markably captivating. Among strangers
there Avas a reserve for a short time, but
it was soon shaken off, especially if he
found that they were pious or intelligent.
The presence of a man who gave himself
airs of condescension usually induced him
to remain silent or to retire. He could en-
joy the society of men of moderate infor-
mation ; and it Avas interesting to observe
hov/ by a few apt questions he could as-
certain in what direction their pursuits laj',
and then so draw them out as to give them
the pleasure of feeling that they were con-

244

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

tributing to his stock of that knowledge
which they could not but think useful.
He was eminently alive to the emotions of
pity, an affection always calculated to in-
spire attachment, but which, in a man of
abstract habits is, I fear, very unusual.
He wag generous by nature, as well as
upon principle, and in seasons of attliction
would remarkably identify himself with
those who most needed sympathy. He
rather avoided than sought expressions of
thankfulness ; and sometimes when he be
came oppressed by them would hastily
say, " Thank you, thank you ; you have
said more than enough ; remember, God
has sent into the world a more powerful
and more noble sentiment than even grati
tude."

For some years he made it a rule to pay
a pastorial visit to every member of his
church once each quarter. He did the
same also with regard to such of his
ordinary hearers as he thought willing to
receive him as a minister of religion.
These w3re not calls, but visits, and usual-
ly paid on evenings, that he might meet
the whole assembled family. Among the
lower classes, to make them quite at their
ease, he would sit down with them at sup-
per ; and that this might involve them in
no extra expense, he took care they should
all know that he preferred a basin of milk.*

He persuaded the poorer members oi" his
church to form little meetings, for reading,
religious conversation, and prayer, going
" from house to house." These were held
once a fortnight, I think, in the summer
time ; once a week during the winter. He
made it a point of official duty to attend
them frequently; and regarded them, with
the weekly meetings in the vestry, as the
best themometer for ascertaining the rehg-
ious state of his people.

Proceeding thus, It was not surprising
that he conciliated the affections of his
friends, and secured the veneration of the
pious ; that he extended around him a
growing conviction of hia excellence, and
carried on many in the stream of his men-
tal and moral power.

In him all was at the utmost remove
from gloom or moroseness. Even the
raillery in which he indulged showed his
good-nature, and was exceedingly playful ;
and, notwithstanding the avowed and la-
mented impetuosity in argument to which
he was prone, nothing, m far as I ever
saw, but conceit, ingrafted upon stupidity,

* The poorer widows of his Hock were not forgotten in
these periodical visits. To them, tie said, he rep.iired
for religious instruction, and was seldom disappointed.
On such occasions he selected his ever favorite re-
past of tea. It was his practice to carry tea and .su-
gar with him, takin? especial care that there should
be more than could possibly be needed, and asking
permission lo Icavo the remainder behind liiui.

provoked liis impatience, and called forth
a severity which he scarcely knew how
to restrain.* With regard to disposition,
the predominant features were kindness
and cheerfulness. He never deliberately
gave pain to any one, except in those few
extreme cases where there appeared a
moral necessity of " rebuking sharply" for
the good of the offender. His kindness to
children, to servants, to the indigent, nay,
to animals, was uniformly manifest. And
such was his prevailing cheerfulness that
he seemed to move and breathe in an at-
mosphere of hilarity, which indeed his
countenance always indicated, except when
the pain in his back affected his spirits, and
caused his imagination to dwell upon the
evils of Cambridgeshire scenery.

This was, in his case, far from a hypo-
thetical grievance. It seriously diminished
his happiness at Cambridge, and at length
was the main cause of his quitting it. In
one of my early interviews with him, be-
fore I had been a month at that place, he
said to me, " What do you think of Cam-
bridge, sir?" "It is a very interesting
place." " Yes, the place where Bacon,,
and Barrow, and Newton studied, and
where Jeremy Taylor was born, cannot
but be interesting. But that is not what
I mean ; what do you say to the scenery,
sir?" " Some of the public buildings are
very striking, and the college walks very
pleasing ; but — " and there I hesitated :
he immediately added, " But there is
nothing else to be said. What do you
think of the surrounding country, sir?
Does not it strike you as very insipid ?"
" No, not precisely so." " Ay, ay : I had
forgotten; you come from a flat country;
yet you must love hills ; there are no hills
here." I replied, " Yes, there are ; there
are Madingley hill, and the Castle hill,
and Gogmagog hill." This amused him
exceedingly, and he said, " Why, as to Ma-
dingley, there is something in that; it re-
minds you of the Cottons, and the Cottoni-
an Library; but that is not because Ma-
dingley is a high hill, but because Sir
Robert Cotton was a great man ; and even
he was not born there. Then, as to your
second example, do you know that the
Castle hill is the place of the public execu-
tions ? that is no very pleasant association
sir ; and as to your last example, Gogma-
gog hill is five miles off, and many who go

* The following is ,in instance of liis manner of check-
ing inordinate vanity. A preachrr of this character
Ivaving delivered a sermon in Mr. Hall's hearing, press-
ed him, with a disgusting union of self-complacency
and indelicacy, lo state what he thought of the sermon.
Mr. Hall remained silent for some time, hoping that his
silence would be rightly interpreted ; but this only
caused the ((tiestion lo be pressed with greater earnest-
ness. Mr. Hall, at length, said, '• There was one very
fine pa.ssage, sir." "1 am rejoiced to hear you say so.
Pray, sir, which was it?" "Why, sir, it was the pas-
sage from the pulpit into the vestry."

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL,

245

there are puzzled to say whether it is nat-
ural or artificial. 'Tis a dismally flat
country, sir ; dismally flat.* Ely is twelve
miles distant, but the road from Cambridge
thither scarcely deviates twelve inches
from the same level ; and tliat's not very
interesting'. Before I came to Cambridge
I had read rn the prize poems, and in some
other works of fancy, of ' the banks of the
Cam,' of 'the sweetly flowing stream,'
and so on ; but when I arrived here I was
sadly disappointed. When I first saw the
river as I passed over King's College
Bridge, I could not help exclaiming. Why,
the stream is standing still to see people
drown themselves ! and that, I am sorry to
say, is a permanent leelling with me." I
questioned the correctness of this impres-
sion, but he immediately rejoined, " Shock-
ing place for the spirits, sir ; I wish you
may not find it so ; it must be the very fo-
cus of suicides. Were you ever at Bristol,
sir ? there is scenery, scenery worth look-
ing upon, and worth thinking of; and so
there is even at Aberdeen, with all its sur-
rounding barrenness. The trees on the
banks of the Don are as fine as those on
the banks of the Cam ; and the river is
alive, sir ; it falls over precipices, and foams
and dashes, so as to invigorate and inspire
those who Avitness it. The Don is a river
sir, and the Severn is a river; but not
even a poet would so designate the Cam,
unless by an obvious figure he termed it
the sleeping river."

The semi-playful and rapid manner in
which he uttered things of this kind did
not always conceal the deep feeling of in-
curable and growing dislike with which he
was struggling.

When 1 first became known to Mr. Hall,
he had recently determined to revise and
extend his knowledge in every department
" to re-arrange the whole furniture of his
mind, and the economy of his habits," and
to become a thorough student. He pro-
posed devoting six hours a day to reading;
but these, unless his friends sought after
him, were often extended to eight or nine.
He thought himself especially defective in
a tasteful and critical acquaintance with
the Greek poets ; and said he should " once

■ On Mr. Hail's last visit to Cambridge, one of his
friends took him out for a morning's ride, and showed
him the improvements as to cultivation, by means of
new enclosures, &c. " True," said he, '■ but still there
IS that odious flatness, that insipid sameness of scenery
all around." Then, with a tone of great seriousness, he
added, " I always say of my Cambridge friends, when
I witness their contentedness in such a country, ' Herein
i.-^ the faith and patience of the saints !' My faith and
patience could not sustain me under it, with the unvary-
inc kindness of my friends in addition."

On .another morning ride his companion said, " Look
at these fields, wiih the crops of corn so smooth and so
abundant; .are not they pleasant? and do tbey not excite
Uie idea of plenty 1 He rejoined, with his usual prompt-
ness. "Oh ! yes; .and so does a large meal-tub filled to
the brim. But I was not thinking of plentv, but of
beauty." ' ■ '

more begin at the beginning." He set to
work, therelbre, upon the best treatises on
the Greek metres then extant. He next
read the Iliad and Odyssey iwice over,
critically ; proceeded with equal care
through nearly all the tragedies of Sopho-
cles and Euripides; and thence extended
his classical reading in all directions. To
the Latin and Greek poets, orators, histori-
ans, and philosophers he devoted a part of
every day, for three or four years. He
studied them as a scholar, but he studied
them also as a moralist and a philoso-
pher ; so that, while he appreciated their
peculiarities and beauties with his won-
ted taste, and carefully improved his style
of writing and his tone of thinking, by the
best models which they present, he suf-
fered them not to deteriorate the accura-
cy of his judgment in comparing their val-
ue with that of the moderns. Perhaps,
however, this assertion should be a little
qualified : for, not only at the period of
which I am now speaking, but, in great
measure, through life, while he spoke of
the Greek and Latin poetry in accordance
with the sentiments and feelings of every
competent classical scholar, he, with very
few exceptions, unduly depreciated the
poetry of the present times.

Much as he delighted in classical litera-
ture, he was by no means inclined, nor
could he have reconciled it with his notions
of duty, to circumscribe his reading within
its limits. The early Christian fathers,
the fathers of the Reformation, the theolog-
ical writers, both puritan and episcopalian,
of the seventeenth century, the most valu-
able authors on all similar topics down to
the present time, including the most es-
teemed French preachers, were all perused
with his characteristic avidity : what was
most valuable in them became fixed in his
unusually retentive memory ; and numer-
ous marginal and other references in the
most valuable of his books prove at once
the minuteness and closeness of his atten-
tion, and his desire to direct his memory to
the substances of thought, and not un-
necessarily to load it with mere apparatus.

Like many other men of letters, Mr.
Hall, at this period, found the advantage
of passing from one subject to another at
short intervals, generally of about two
hours : thus casting off the mental fatigue
that one subject had occasioned by direct-
ing his attention to another, and thereby
preserving the intellect in a state of elastic
energy from the beginning to the end of
time devoted daily to study.

Not long after he had entered upon this
steady course of reading, he commenced
the study of Hebrew, under Mr. Lyons,
who then taught that language in the uni-
versity. He soon became a thorough pro-

246

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

ficient in it; and, finding it greatly to in-
crease his knowledge of tiie Old Testa-
ment, as well as of its relation to the New,
and considerably to improve and enlarge
the power of Scripture interpretation, he,
from thence to the close of lil'e, suffered
scarcely a day to p;x.ss without reading a
portion of the Old Testament in the origi-
nal. This practice flowed naturally from
one of his principles of action, namely, to
go to the fountain-head Ibr information,
rather than to derive it from tlie streams ;
and from the continued application of that
principle, it was found that his habit of
reading originals often impaired the accu-
racy of his quotation of passages from
our authorized version, Imving, in fact, be-
come more familiar with the Hebrew and
Greek texts than with any translation.
This, which was often conjectured by some
of his hearers at Cambridge, was amply
confirmed by the subsequent observation
of his intimate and much esteemed friend
Mr. Ryley, at Leicester.

It would be useless to record, even
briefly, Mr. Hall's opinions of the nume-
rous authors, ancient and modern, which
he read at this period with such close at-
tention, since they accord generally with
those of all men of correct taste and sound
judgment. Yet perhaps I may state, with
regard to his chief uninspired favorite
among the Greek writers, that to none of
the ornaments of pagan antiquity did he
reler in such terms of fervid eulogy as to
Plato. Not Cudworth himself could ap-
preciate him more highly. He often ex-
pressed hi.? astonishment at the neglect
into which he apprehended the writings of
Plato were sinking ; and said, that an en-
tire disregard of tliem would be an irrefra-
gable proof of a shallow age. Milton, he
remarked, gave the noblest proofs, in his
prose writings, of a knowledge and love of
Plato ; and he expressed a surprize, almost
bordering upon contempt, in reference to
those who classed this wonderful man with
the schoolmen. It was his frequent remark
that even when Plato wrote upon the most
abstract subjects, whether moral, metaphys
ical, or mathematical, his style was »-.
clear as the purest stream, and that his
diction was deeply imbued with the poetic
spirit. On occasions when he ran no risk
of the charge of pedantry, he .would, by
appropriate quotations, confirm these views.
He delighted to expatiate upon this philos-
opher's notions of vice and virtue, of idle-
ness and industry ; and often adduced the
Platonic definition of education, as "that
which qualifies men to be good citizens,
and renders them fit to govern or to obey."
On one occasion he pointed to a passage,
in the first Republic, I think, from which
it appeared that Plato perceived the advan-

tages resulting from the subdivision of la-
bor, and suggested the natural progress of
such subdivision in proportion to the ad-
vance of civilization.

In speaking of this philosopher, Mr.
Hall illustrated his view- of the evil of
studying a Greek author with the aid of a
Latin version by a reference to Se7'raurs''s
magnificent edition of his works, in the
Latin version, of which he said he had of-
ten detected errors. He also mentioned a
ridiculous blunder of one of the English
translators, who had, it seems, availed him-
self of a Latin version, in which, as was
customar)^ two or three hundred yeara
ago, the omission of an m or an n was in-
dicated by a bar placed over the preceding
letter. Disregarding this superposed bar,
the translator had read liirudo instead of
huimdo, and thus, upon Plato's authority,
declaring the horse-leech, instead of the
swalloiv, to be the harbinger of the
spring 1

I have dwelt rather longer upon these
topics than Avould be at all necessary, were
it not to correct the notion which some
persons have entertained, that Mr. Hall
was indolent, and that though when stimu-
lated to the effort, he would exert himself
as a profound thinker, yet he was not a man
of research, or, in the ordinary acception,
a good scholar.

When Mr. Hall proposed that we should
devote an hour every morning to reading
together, he asked me to assist him in his
mathematical studies, adding that as a mat-
ter of mutual advantage it might be well
that on alternate mornings I should be his
mathematical tutor, and he my instructer
in metaphysics. To this proposal I glad-
ly assented ; and it has long been my per-
suasion that the scheme flowed in great
measure from his desire to call my atten-
tion to general literature, and especially to
the science of mind.

At that period, though he was strong
and active, he often suffered extremely
from the pain to which I have before ad-
verted, and vdiich was his sad companion
through life. On entering his room to
commence our reading, I could at once tell
whether or not his night had been refresh-
ing ; for, if it had, I found him at the table,
the books to be studied ready, and a vacant
chair set for me. If his night had been
restless, and the pain still continued, I
found him lying on the sofa, or more fre-
quently upon three chairs, on which he
could obtain an easier position. At such
seasons, scarcely ever did a complaint is-
sue from his lips ; but inviting me to take
the sofa, our reading commenced. They
however, who knew Mr. Hall can conjec-
ture how often, if he became interested, l\e
would raise liimaelf from the chairs, utter

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL

247

a few animated expressions, and then re-
sume the favorite reciinin<>- posture. Some-
limes, when he was surtering more than
usual, he proposed a walk in the fields,
where, with the appropriate book as our
companion, we could pursue the subject
If he was the preceptor, as was commonly
the case in these peripatetic lectures, he
soon lost the sense of pain, and nearly as
soon escaped from our author, whoever he
might be, and expatiated at large upon
some train of inquiry or explication which
our course of reading had suggested. As
his thoughts enkindled, both his steps and
his Avords became quicker, until, ere long,
it was difficult to say whether the body or
the mind were brought most upon the
stretch in keeping up with him. This pe-
culiarity I have noticed in a lew other men
of vigorous intellect and lively imagination.

Mr. Hall's avowed object in recurring at
all to his mathematical studies was, the. ac-
quisition of so much geometry, trigonome-
try, and conic sections as would enable him
thoroughly to comprehend tlie entire scope
of the reasoning in Maclaurin's "Account
of Sir Isaac Newton's Philosophical Dis-
coveries." For this, indeed, his college
studies had in a great measure prepared
him ; and there would have been but little
to learn, could he have been satisfied to
proceed as students often do. But it was
not in his nature to advance, unless he as-
certained the firmness of the ground at
every step. He reasoned philosophically,
for instance, upon the nature of ratios and
proportions ; so that we had to clear our
way through the recondite lectures of Bar-
row relative to those points, before we
could advance to trigonometry. His logi-
cal habits, also, made him very reluctant to
pass over any geometrical proposition in
which he could not trace the analysis as
well as the synthesis. In this manner, and
with such views, we went through the pro-
posed course. Of what utility all this
was ultimately to Mr. Hall I cannot precise-
ly say; but I can testify that it was of perma-
nent advantage by his mathematical pre-
ceptor, who had not previously formed the
habit of tracing apparent results to their
foundations ; but who, from that period,
pursued science with a new interest, kept
his eye more steadily upon ultimate princi-
ples, and learned to value such researches
quite as much f jr their intellectual discipline
as for the practical benefit.*

In reference to the philosophy of mind,
after we had gone slightly over Locke's

■ Shortly after iiiv removal to Wnolwicli I inviied my
late valued friend Dr. Hi-.'.lon to dino with Mr. Hall at
my house. Mr. Hall, for tlie purpose of drawin:; the
doctor into conversation, asked liirii a few questions
suggested by some of Barrow's disquisitions in refer-
ence to mathematical measure, and its application to
force, momentum, &c. They essentiaily involved the
metaphysics of the Euhjecls of inquiry. He also expa-

Essay, his Conduct of the Understanding",
and Watt's Ontology, which I have read
before, we studied Berkeley, Wollaston,
Hartley, Andrew Baxter, Reid, some por*
tions of Bacon's Essays, and of his Trea-
tise on the advancement of Learning ; or
rather, I should say, I had the advantage
of learning what was most or least valua-
ble in each and all of these, from this admi-
rable living commentator. We were about
to proceed to Search's (Abraham Tucker's)
" Light of Nature,"* when some circum-
stances, which I cannot recall to mind, ren-
dered it inconvenient for us thus to meet,
and brought these delightful readings and
commentaries to a close. We did not then
go through any of Dugald Stewart's
works, Mr. Hall regarding him as an ele-
gant expositor of Reid, but greatly inferior
in originality. From Bacon's Essays he
used to read passages aloud, with the
warmest expressions of commendation.

I must not omit to specify, as a peculiar-
ity in the structure of Mr. Hall's mind,
that although in every important case he
detected, and placed in the utmost promi-
nence, an essential defect in the reasoning,
at too rapid generalization, or any other un-
warrantable deduction, that occurred in
Berkeley, or Watts, or Hartley, he was very
slow to perceive, very reluctant to admit, any
such in the writings of Andrew Baxter. The
reader who is conversant with such specu-
lations will recollect, tliat in the second vol-
ume of Baxter's book on " the Soul," he
affirms that our dreams are prompted by
separate immaterial beings, and defends his
theory with much ingenuity. As he ad-
vanced in Baxter's arguments, Mr. Hall
exclaimed, "This is very beautiful, sir;
yet I apprehend there must be some flaw
in the reasoning." I suggested one or two
objections; he showed immediately, that
they could not apply. On our next meet-
ing he accosted me with, " Well, sir, have
you detected any fallacy in Baxter's theo-
ry ?" " Yes, I think I have." This, how-
ever, was soon disposed of and then another
and another. I at length referred to Du-
gald Stewart's theory, after examining
which, he said, "I do not think this is
tenable : but I suppose it must be admitted
that Baxter does not quite make out his
case. Yet he was a man of great acumen,
why did the Scotch philosophers run him
down so ?"

lialed upon the iinaitinalive as well a.s the national pro-
cess involved in the pencsi.s of curves by motion, as
tauu'lit by Barrow and Newton. The next day Dr. Hut-
ton said to me, " What an e.xtraordinary man that
friend of yours is ! Why, he was born to be a mathe-
matician. If you could persuade him to give himself
up to the sciences, as Priestley did, he would teach us
all something."

* Mr. Hall characterized this as a work in which h<^
noblest philosophy wa.^ brought down >y a uiapfrr hnntl
and placed within the reach of e'-orv i;.3;i of tound w*-
dcrr.tanrilr.-.

248

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

" "Yes,
of his
" No."

Still further to illustrate Mr. Hall's char-
acter, his turn of thought and expression,
I will now bring together a few such inci-
dents and short remarks, occurring betAveen
1796 and 1803, as present themselves most
vividly to my mind.

It will already have appeared that be-
nevolence was a prevailing characteristic.
When he had aided a poor man to the full
extent of his own pecuniary means, he
would sometimes apply to one of his afflu-
ent friends. " Poor is in great dis-
tress : some of his family are ill, and he
cannot supply proper necessaries. Lend
me five shillings for the poor fellow : I will
pay you again in a fortnight, unless in the
mean time you find that the case deserves
your help, and then the donation shall be-
come yours."

His disapprobation of 'avarice bore a
natural relation to his own benevolence.
Being informed that a rich man in the
neighborhood, who was by no means cele-
brated for his liberality, had attended to a
tfile of distress without relieving it, he
said, " Yes, sir : he would listen, but with-
out inclining his head. He may lend a dis
tant ear to the murmurings from the vale
beneath, but he remains like a mountain
covered with the perpetual snow."

On another occasion, a person talking to
him of one whom they both knew, and
who was very penurious, said, " Poor
wretch ! you might put his soul into a nut
shell." " Yes, sir," Mr. Hall replied. " and
even then it would creep out at a maggot
hole."

His love of sincerity in words and ac-
tions was constantly apparent. Once,
while he was spending an evening at the
house of a friend, a lady who was there on
a visit, retired, that her little girl, of four
years old, might go to bed. She returned
in about half an hour, and said to a lady
near her, " She is gone to sleep. I put on
my night-cap, and lay down by her, and
she soon dropped off." Mr. Hall, who
overheard this, said, " Excuse me, madam :
do you wish your child to grow up a liar ?"
" Oh dear no, sir ; I should be shocked at
such a thing." " Then bear with me
while I say, you must never act a lie be-
fore her : children arc very quick observers,
and soon learn that that which assumes to be
what it is not is a lie, whether acted or spo-
ken." This was uttered with a kindness
which precluded oflpnoe, yet with a serious-
ness that could not be forgotten.

His dislike to compliments was thus ex-
pressed : " In compliments two and two do
not make four ; and twenty and twenty
fall very far short of forty. Deal not then
in that deceitful arithmetic."

It was said in Mr. Hall's hearing that [most out of tune with the otlier words,
"compliments were pleasing truths, and i Listen again: 'Thou hast dehvered my

flatteries pleasing untruths." He remarked
" Neither of them are pleasing to a man of
reflection, for the falsehoods in this case so
nearly assume the semblance of truth, that
one is perplexed to tell which is actually
given ; and no man is pleased with per-
plexity."

" You remember Mr. ■
very well." " Were you aware
fondness for brandy and water?"
" It was a sad habit, but it grew out of his
love of story telling; and that also is a
bad habit, a very bad habit for a min-
ister of the gospel. As he grew old,
his animal spirits flagged, and his stories
became defective in vivacity : he therefore
took to brandy and water; weak enough
it is true, at first, but soon nearly ' halt-and-
half ' Ere long he indulged the habit in
a morning ; and when he came to Cam-
bridge he would call upon me, and before
he had been with me five minutes ask for
a little brandy and water, which was of
course, to give him artificial spirits to ren-
der him agreeable in his visits to others.
I felt great difiiculty ; for he, you know,
sir, was much older than I was : yet, being
persuaded that the ruin of his character, if
not of his peace, was inevitable, unless
something was done, I resolved upon one
strong effort for his rescue. So the next
time that he called, and, as usual, said,
' Friend Hall, I will thank you for a glass
of brandy and water,' I replied, 'Call
things by their right names, and you shall
have as much as you please.' ' Why,
don't I employ the right name ! I ask for
a glass of brandy and water.' 'That is
the current, but not the appropriate name ;
ask for a glass of liquid fire, and distilled
damnation, and you shall have a gallon."
Poor man, he turned pale, and for a mo-
ment seemed struggling with anger. But,
knowing that I did not mean to insult him,
he stretched out his hand, and said, ' Broth-
er Hall, I thank you from the bottom of my
heart.' From that time he ceased to take
brandy and water."

In one of my early interviews with Mr.
Hall, I used the word felicity three or four
times in rather quick succession. He ask-
ed, " Why do you say felicity, sir 1 Hap-
piness is a better word, more musical, and
genuine English, coming from the Saxon."
" Not more musical, I think, sir." " Yes,
more musical, and so are words derived
from the Saxon generally. Listen, sir :
' My heart is smitten and withered like
grass;' there's plaintive music. Listen
again sir : ' Under tlie shadow of tliy wings
will I rejoice ;' there's cheerful music."
" Yes, but rejoice is French." " True,
but all the rest is Saxon, and rejoice is al

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

249

eyes from tears, my soul from death, and
my feet from falling ;' all Saxon, sir, except
delivered. I could think of the word tear,
sir, till I wept. Then again, for another
noble specimen, and almost all good old
Saxon-English : ' Surely goodness and
mercy shall follow me all the days of my
life ; and I will dwell in the house of the
Lord for ever.' "

Shortly after this I was reading the
original edition of Doddridge's Pneumat-
ology, and asked Mr, Hall to lend me Kip-
pis's edition, in which the reference to
other authorities, on the various topics dis-
cussed, are greatly increased. He told me
that he did not possess Kippis's edition, in
a tone which then surprized me a little, as
it showed that he did not highly estimate
Kippis's authority. I therefore asked,
" Was not Dr. Kippis a clever man 1" " He
might be a very clever man, by nature,
for aught I know, but he laid so many books
upon his head that his brains could not
move." This was to me, who, at that pe-
riod, devoted much more time to reading
than to thinking, an admirable lesson.

On being asked whether he was an Ar-
minian or a Calvinist, he said : " Neither,
sir, but I believe I recede farther from Ar-
minianism than from Calvinism. If a, man
profess himself a decided Arminian, I infer
from it that he is not a good logician ; but,
sir, it does not intefere with his personal
piety ; look at good Mr. Benson, for exam-
ple. I regard the question more as meta-
physical than reUgious."

A lady who had been speaking of the
Supreme Being with great familiarity, but
in religious phraseology, having retired, he
said : " I wish I knew how to cure that good
lady of her bad habit. I have tried, but as
yet, in vain. It is a great mistake to affect
this kind of familiarity with the King of
kings, and speak of him as though he were
a next-door neighbor, from the pretence of
love. Mr. Boyle's well known habit was
infinitely to be commended. And one of
our old divines, I forget which, well re-
marks, that, 'Nothing but ignorance can
be guilty of this boldness ; that there is no
divinity but in a humble fear, no philosophy
but shows itself in silent admiration.' "

When two or three gentlemen were dis-
cussing the question, whether a man of no
religion can be a successful minister of the
gospel, surprise was expressed that Mr.
Hall remained silent. "Sir, (said he, in
reply,) I would not deny that a sermon
from a bad man may sometimes do good ;
but the general question does not admit of
an argument. Is it at all probable, that
one who is a willing servant of Satan,
(and that, you know, sir, is the hypothesis
you assume,) will fight against him with

Vol. 3.— Ff.

all his might, and if not, what success can
be rationally expected ?"

Mr. Hall did not permit his sedulous cul-
tivation of the mind to draw him aside
from the cultivation of the heart. The
evidences were, indeed, very strong, that
his preparation for ministerial duty was
devotional as well as intellectual. Thus,
his public services, by a striking gradation,
for months and years, evinced an obvious
growth, in mental power, in literary acqui-
sition, and in the seriousness, affection and
ardor of a man of piety. His usefulness
and his popularity increased; the church
and congregation became considerably aug-
mented ; and in 1798 it was found necessa-
ry to enlarge the place of worship to ac-
commodate about two hundred more per-
sons.

Early in the year 1799, a severe fever,
which brought him, in his own appprehen-
sion, and that of his friends, to the brink of
the grave, gave him an opportunity of ex-
periencing the support yielded by the doc-
trines of the cross "in the near views of
death and judgment." He "never before
felt his mind so calm and happy." The
impression was not only salutary, but abid-
ing; and it again prompted him to the
investigation of one or two points, with
regard to which he had long felt himself
floating in uncertainty. Although he had
for some years steadily and earnestly en-
forced the necessity of divine influence in
the transformation of character, and in per-
severance in the course of consistent, holy
obedience, yet he spoke of it as " the influ-
ence of the spirit of God," and never in
express terms, as "the influence of the
Holy Spirit." The reason was, that though
he fully believed the necessity of spiritual
agency in commencing and continuing the
spiritual life, he doubted the doctrine of the
distinct personality of the Holy Spirit.
But about this time he was struck with the
fact that, whenever in private prayer he
was in the most deeply devotional frame,
" most overwhelmed with the sense that he
was nothing, and God was all in all," he
always feit himself inclined to adopt a trin-
itarian doxology. This circumstance, oc-
curring frequently, and more frequently
meditated upon in a tone of honest and
anxious inquiry, issued at length in a per-
suasion that the Holy Spirit is really and
truly God, and not an emanation. It was
not, however, until 1800, that he publicly
included the personality of the Holy Spirit
in his statements of the doctrine of spirit-
ual influence.

In attempting to give some idea of the
general character and style of Mr. Hall's
public services, while I had the privilege
of hearing him at Cambridge, I feel that I

250

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

shall neither adequately describe what hi.'
preaching really was, nor even do justice
to my own conceptions of it.

His manner ol' reading the scriptures at
the beginning of the service, was not gen-
erally interesting ; nor did the portion read
always bear an obvious reference to the
text or subject afterwards brought forward.
But when passages ol" scripture were quot-
ed in the sermon, they were so delivered
as to give to their true meaning the most
intelligible prominence and Ibrce.

His prayers were remarkable for their
Kimplicity and their devotional feeling. No
person could listen to them without being
persuaded that he who uttered them was
really engaged in prayer, Avas holding
communion with his God and Father in
Christ Jesus. His tones and his counte-
nance throughout these exercises were
those of one most deeply imbued with a
sense of his unworthincss, and throwing
himself at the leet of the Great Eternal,
conscious that he could present no claim
for a single blessing, but the blood of
atonement, yet animated by the cheering
hope that the voice of that blood would
prevail. The structure of these prayers
never indicated any preconceived plan.
They were the genuine eiibsions of a truly
devotional spirit, animated by a vivid re-
collection of what in his own state, in that
of the congregation, of the town and vicin-
ity, needed most ardently to be laid before
the Father of Mercies. Thus, they were
remarkably comprehensive, and furnishetl
a far greater variety on the successive
occasions of public worship, than those of
any other minister whom I have ever
known. The portions which were devoted
to intercession operated most happily in
drawing the atiections of his people towards
himself; since they showed how completely
his Christian sympathy had prepared him
to make their respective cases his own.

The commencement of his sermons did
not excite much expectation in strangers,
except they were such as recollected how
the mental agitation, produced by diffidence,
characterized the first sentences of some
of the orators of antiquity. He began
with hesitation, and often in a very low and
feeble tone, coughing frequently, as though
he were oppressed by asthmatic obstruc-
tions. As he proceeded, his manner be-
came easy, graceful, and at length highly
impassioned ; his voice also acquired more
flexibility, body and sweetness, and in all
his happier and more successful etlbrts:
swelled into a stream of the most touchins"
and impressive melody. The larther he
advanced, the more B])ontaneous, natural,
and free Irom labor, seemed the progress-
ion uf thought. He aimourjced the results

of the most extensive reading, of the most
patient investigation, or of the profoundest
thinking, with such unassuming simplicity,
yet set them in such a position of obvious
and lucid reality, that the auditors wonder-
ed how things so simple and manifest
should have escaped them. Throughout
his sermons he kept his subject thoroughly
in view, and so incessantly brought Ibr-
ward new arguments, or new illustrations,
to confirm or to explain it, that with him
amplification was almost invariably accu-
mulative in its tendency. One thought
was succeeded by another, and that by
another and another, each more weighty
than the preceding, each more calculated
to deepen and render permanent the ulti-
mate impression. He could at pleasure
adopt the unadorned, the ornamental, or
the energetic ; and indeed combine them
in every diversity of modulation.

In his higher flights, what he said of
Burke might, with the slightest deduction,
he applied to himself, "that his imperial,
fancy laid all nature under tribute, and col-
lected riches from every scene of the cre-
ation, and every walk of art ;" and at the
same time, that could be affirmed of Mr^
Hall which could 7iot be alfiimed ol' Mr.-
Burke, that lie never fatigued and oppress-
ed by gaudy and superfluous imagery.-
Whenever the subject obviously justified
it, he would yield the reins to an eloquence
more diffusive and magnificent than the
ordinary course of pulpit in.-^truction seem-
ed to require ; yet so exquLsite was his per-
ception of beauty, and so sound his judg-
ment, that not the coldest taste, provided it
were real taste, could ever wish an image
omitted which Mr. Hall had introduced.
His inexhaustible variety augmented the
general effect. The same images, the
same illustrations, scarcely ever recurred.
So ample were his stores, that repetition of
every kind was usually avoided ; while in
his illustrations he would connect and con-
trast what was disjointed and opposed, or
distinctly unfold what was abstracted or
ob.scure, in such terms as were generally
intelligible, not only to the well-informed,
but to the meanest capacity. As he ad-
vanced to his practical applications, all his
mental powers were shown in the most
palpable but finely balanced exercise. His
mind would, if I may so speak, collect itself
and come Ibrth with a luminous activity,
proving, as he advanced, how vast, and, in
some important sen.ses, how next to irresist-
ible, those powers were. In such seasons
his preaching conmuinicated universal ani-
mation: his conLTegation would seem to
partake of his spirit, to think and lt.'el as he
did. to be fully infiuenced by the presence
of the objects which he had placed before

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

251

them, fully actuated by the motives which
he had enforced with such energy and pa-
thos.

All was doubtless heightened by his sin-
gular rapidity of utterance ; by the ryth-
mical structure of his sentences, calculated
at once for the transmission of the most
momentous truths, for the powers of his
voice, and for the convenience of breathing
freely at measured intervals; and, more
than all, by the unequivocal earnestness
and sincerity which pervaded the whole,
and by the eloquence of his most speaking
countenance and penetrating eye. In his
sublimer strains, not only was every faculty
of the soul enkindled and in entire opera-
tion, but his very features seemed fully to
sympathize with the spirit, and to give out,
nay, to throw out, thought and sentiment,
and feeling.

From the commencementof his discourse
an almost breathless silence prevailed,
deeply impressive and solemnizing from
its singular intenseness. , Not a sound was
heard but that of the preacher's voice ;
scarcely an eye but was fixed upon him ;
not a countenance that he did not watch,
and read and interpret, ae he surveyed
them again and again with his rapid, ever-
excursive glance. As he advanced and
increased in animation, five or six of the
auditors would be seen to rise and lean
forward over the front of their pews, still
keeping their eyes upon him. Some new or
striking sentiment or expression would, in a
i^\Y minutes cause others to rise in like
manner : shortly afterwards still more, and
so on, until, long before the close of the
sermon, it often happened that a conside-
rable portion of the congregation were
seen standing ; every eye directed to the
preacher, yet now and then for a moment
glancing from one to another, thus trans-
mitting and reciprocating thought and feel-
ing: Mr. Hall himself, though manifestly
absorbed in his subject, conscious of the
whole, receiving new anin)ation from what
he thus witnessed, reflecting it back upon
those who were already alive to the inspir-
ation, until all that were susceptible of
thought and emotion seemed wound up to
the utmost limit of elevation on earth ;
when he would close, and they reluctantly
and slowly resume their seats.*

* .Striking evidences of the most stimulating immedi-
ate iiripression ol'tcn occurred. I snecify only two ex-
amples

1.1 IslJ, Mr. Hall, who then resided at Leicester, paid
one of his peri.idical visits to Bristol, and, as usual, of-
ten preiched at Broadmead. He delivered a most sol-
e iir. and impressive sermon on the tett "dead in tres
pis^e? and sins;" of which the concludini appeals
were remarkably suhlime and awful. The nwment he
hi.d delivered the last sentence, Dr. Rvland, then Ihe
pistorof the cHkcIi, hasiened part of the way up (he
pulpit .»ldirs,and while the tears trickled down his vene
rable lace, exclaimed, with a vehemence which aston-
ished both the preacher and the congregation ; " Let all

Scenes like this I have witnessed repeat-
edly, so productive of intense and hallowed
feeling, that, after an interval of more than
thirty years, they present themselves to my
mind with a more vivid influence than
many of the transactions of the last month.

And surely the delightful retrospection
may be safely indulged, when it is consid-
ered that these sublime exertions were
made for the promotion of man's best inter-
ests ; to warn the impenitent ; to show to
the sinner the fatal error of his way ; to
invite the self-condemned to the only, the
all-efiectual remedy; to console and en-
courage the faithlul"; to distribute the bread
of life among those who must otherwise
perish; to "build up the church in her
most holy faith ;" when it is known, also,
that, while men of taste and intellect were
both gratified and instructed, the unculti-
vated rustic heard, and understood, and
received the Word of Life, and went on
his way rejoicing.

Numerous and diversified as were the feel-
ings excited by this extraordinary preacher,
none were more prevailing than surprise
that one so richly endowed should seem so
utterly unconscious of it, and gratitude that
the Great Head of the church should have
called such a man to his service, and placed
him in so important a station as Cam-
bridge, when his intellectual powers were
in their full maturity and vigor.

I must not, I perceive, allow myself to
sketch the diflference between his .sermons
and his expositions, or between his preach-
ing at Cambridge and in the neighboring
villages : nor must I dwell upon the weekly
evening services, when he met a few of
his people, chiefly of the poorer classes, in
the vestry of his place of worship, and, in
a strain of the most chaste and simple elo-
quence, comforted and instructed them in
the " things pertaining to the kingdom of
God."* The diversity of his powers, the

that are al ve in Jerusaiem pray for the dead that they

may live !"

In 1814, Mr. Hall, while preaching among his old
friends at Cambridge, just before he commenced the
application of his sermon, uttered a short, but very fer-
vent ejaculatory prayer, during whicli the whole con-
'-'reirarion arose from iheir seals. Mr. Hall seemed
surprized for a nioinent, and but for a moment, and
remained iti prayer for about tive minutes. He then
resumed his sermon, and continued preaching for more
than twenty minutes, in such a strain of magnificent and
o erwheluiing eloquence, as the extraordinary inrident
might be expected to produce, from powers and feelings
like his, the whole congregation standing until the close
of t'le sermon.

* The topics of these evening lectures were often bi-
ograptiical. The lives and characters of Jacob, Joseph,
Moses, Elijah, Hannah, Samuel, Ruth, Daniel, &c. were
briefly delineated, and made the basis of some useful
practical reflections. Whenever the subject would fair-
ly allow it, these reflections had an apprnpriafe bearing
upon the duties, the trials and perplexitie.=, of persona
in humble life. The sermon on "John fulfilled hia
course,'' inserted in the present volume, is very analo-
gous in its character to the discourses to which I her«
refer : but its commencement is more elaborate.

252

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

sincerity of his character, the warrutli of
his love to God and man, were in all alike
apparent : and no one that was not the vic-
tim of prejudice, or the plave of sin, could
have seen him ena:aged in the service of
God, without being ready to testify, " this
man must have read much, thought much,
and prayed much," to be thus admirably
furnished for his great work.

It would be highly instructive and grati-
fying to know by what process so finished
a preacher, .so exquisite and tastelul a wri-
ter; as Mr. Hall, prepared his respective
compositions for the pulpit and the press.
But the reluctance with which he spoke
either of himself or ol" his occupations, de-
prives us of much of this desirable infor-
mation. At the time when our intercourse
was most frequent and unrestrained, I have
often been with him while he was prepar-
ing for the pulpit, and have occasionally
ventured to ask him a few questions ; his
answers, always frank and elucidatory, how-
ever concise, enabled me, by means, also,
of frequent reference to his notes on differ-
ent sermons which I heard delivered, to
form tolerably satisfactory conjectures as to
the course pursued. He then stated, as he
since has to different friends, that he never
proceeded even to think of adopting a spe-
cific text, as fitted for a sermon, until the
matter it presented stood out in the form of
a particular, distinct, and precise topic ; he
could then take it up and lay it down as he
pleased. Of his extraordinary power of
abstraction I have already spoken. By its
means he could, at pleasure, insulate, nay
in a manner enclose himself, from every
thing aro;md him ; and thus pursue his
mental operations. It was usual with him
to have five or six subjects under simulta-
neous training; to either of which he could
direct his attention as inchnation or neces-
sity required. The grand divisions of
thought, the heads of a sermon, for exam-
ple, he would trace out with the most prom-
inent lines of demarcation ; and these for
some years applied all the hints that he
needed in the pulpit, except on extraordi-
nary occasions. To these grand divisions
he reffered, and upon them suspended all
the subordinate trains of thought.

The latter, again, appear to have been
of two classes altogether distinct; outline
trains of thought, and trains into which
much of the detail was interwoven. In the
outline train, the whole plan was carried
out and completed as to the argument: in
that of detail, the illustrations, image.*, and"
subordinate proofs, were selected and clas-
sified ; and in those instances where the
force of an argimient, or the probable suc-
cess of a general application, would mainly
depend upon the language^ even that was
selected and appropriated, sometimes to the

precise collocation of the words. Of some
sermons, no portions whatever were wrought
out thus minutely; the language employed
in preaching being that which spontane-
ously occurred at the time: of others, this
minute attention was paid to ihe verbal
structure of nearly half: of a few, the en-
tire train of preparation, almost from the
beginning to the end, extended to the very
sentences. Yet the marked peculiarity
consisted in this, that the process, even
when thus directed to minutias in his more
elaborate eflforts, did not require the use of
the pen ; at least at the time to which these
remarks principally refer.* For, Mr. Hall
had a singular laculty for continuous men-
tal composition, apart from the aid which
writing supplies. Words were so disci-
plined to his use, that the more he thought
on any subject, the more closely were the
topics of thought associated with appropri-
ate terms and phrases ; and it was manliest
that he had carefully disciplined his mind
to this as an independent exercise, proba-
bly to avoid the pain and fatigue which
always attended the process of writing.
Whenever he pleased he could thus pursue
the consecution to a great extent, in sen-
tences, many of them perfectly formed and
elaborately finished, as he went along, and
easily called up again by memory, as occa-
sion required ; not, however, in their sepa-
rate character, as elements of language,
but because of their being fully worked
into the substance of thought. It hence
happened that the excellence which other
persons ol'ten attain as to style, from the
use of the pen, in written, visible composi-
tion (employing the eye upon words, in-
stead of fixing the memory upon substan-
tial mental product, and, it may be, dimin-
ishing the intellectual power by substitut-
ing for one of its faculties a mechanical
result,) he more successfully and uniformly
attained by a purely meditative process.
And I am persuaded that if he could have
instantly impressed his trains of thought
upon paper, with the incorporated words,
and with the living spirit in which they
were conceived, hundreds if not thousands
of passages would have been preserved, as
chaste and polished in diction, as elastic
and energetic in tone, as can be selected
from any part of his works. What, how-
ever, could not thus be accomplished by
the pen, has been achieved, as to immedi-
ate impression, in the pulpit; and hence

' Mr. Hall, doubtless, varied liis manner of prepara-
tion in different periods. For three or four years after
his seltlpinent at Leicester, he wrote down nearly a
third of the sermon, and left all the rest to flow from the
outline plan while he was preachinjr- But for some
years afterwards he seldom allowed his notes to eAceeil
two pae;os, and is thoupht to have indulged himself more
llian at any other period of his life in entirely extempo-
raneous elo(|UPnce. At that time his sermons wera
especially distinsuished by simplicity and pathos..

MEMOIR OP ROBERT HALL.

253

his celebrity, unequalled, in modern times,
as a sacred orator.

In preparing for the press the process
was in many respects essentially different.
There was, from the outset, a struggle to
overcome the reluctance to write, arising
from the anticipation of increased pain,
which he knew must be endured so long
as he was engaged in the mechanical act ;
and at every return to the labor he had a
new reluctance to surmount. There was,
moreover, the constant effort to restrain a
mind naturally active, ardent, and rapid in
all its movements, to a slow progression ;
nay, a farther effort, and, to a mind so con-
stituted, a very irksome one, to bring the
thoughts back from the ultimate issue to
which they were incessantly hastening, and
cause them to pass and repass, again and
again, by a comparatively sluggish course,
the successive links in a long chain. Nor
was this all. He had formed for himself,
as a writer, an ideal standard of excellence,
which could not be reached :* his percep-
tion of beauty in composition was so deli-
cate and refined, that in regard to his own
productions, it engendered perhaps a fas-
tidious taste ; and, deep and prevailing as
was his humility, he was not insensible to
the value of a high reputation, and there-
fore cautiously guarded against the risk of
diminishing his usefulness among certain
classes of readers, by consigning any pro-
duction to the world that had not been
thoroughly subjected to the labor Uvkb.
Hence the extreme slowness with which he
composed for the press ; writing, improv-
ing, rejecting the improvement; seeking
another, rejecting it ; recasting whole sen-
tences and pages ; often recurring precise-
ly to the original phraseology; and still
oftener repenting, Avhen it was too late,
that he had not done so. All this he la-
mented as a serious delect, declaring that
it gave, in his own view, to his written
compositions, an air of stiffness and formal-
ity, which deprived him of all complacency
in them. And I cannot but think that, not-
withstanding the exquisite harmony and
beauty which characterize every thing that
he has published, they were, even in point
of felicity of diction, and the majestic cur-
rent and force of language, inferior to the
"winged words" that escaped from his
lips, when " his soul was enlarged" in the
discharge of ministerial duty.

May we not suggest a probable reason
for this, by observing, that when Mr. Hall
stood forth as the minister of the sanctuary,
he placed the fire upon the altar in the
humble confidence that it would be kept
alive by the communication of grace and

• " I am tormented with the desire of writing better
than I caa."

spirit from on high; but that, when he
came before the public as an author, he
sometimes extinguished hia own flame, pure
and ethereal as it notwithstanding was, in
his efforts to ornament the vase in which
he held it up to view.*

But I must not dwell longer on these
topics.

In the beginning of the year 1799, Mr.
Hall had the happiness of renewing per-
sonal intercourse with his early friend.
Mr. (afterwards Sir James) Mackintosh,
being about to deliver a course of lectures
on the Law of Nature and Nations, in Lin-
coln's Inn Hall, deemed it expedient, for
the completion of some of the extensive
researches which that important undertak-
ing required, to reside for a few months at
Cambridge, that he might consult the more
valuable of the college libraries, as well as
the public library belonging to the univer-
sity generally. Another distinguished in-
dividual, the late Dr. Samuel Parr, spent
several weeks at Cambridge at the same
time, for the purpose of visiting some of
his old friends, of associating with Mr.
Mackintosh, and of becoming personally
acquainted with Mr. Hall, whose character
he had long known and highly valued.
Mr. Hall, pleased to refresh his spirits in
the society of his beloved fellow-student,
and by no means unwilling to glean some-
thing from the stores of so profound a
scholar as Dr. Parr, often spent his eve-
nings with these two eminent men, and a
few members of the university, who were
invited to their select parties, and with
whom, from that time, he cultivated an in-
timacy.

This circumstance led to the formation
of Mr. Hall's most inveterate habit ; that
of smoking. Previously to this period he
had always censured the practice in .the
strongest terms; but, on associating with
Dr. Parr, his aversion to what he used to
denominate an " odious custom," soon
passed away. The Doctor was always
enveloped in a dense cloud of smoke, from
sun-rise until midnight; and no person
could remain in his company long without
great inconvenience, unless he learnt to
smoke in self-defence. Mr. Hall, therefore,
made the attempt, and quickly overcame
every obstacle. I well recollect entering
his apartment just as he had acquired this
happy art ; and, seeing him sit at ease, the
smoke rising above his head in lurid, spiral
volumes, he inhaling and apparently enjoy-
ing its fragrance, I could not suppress my

' That Mr. Hall did not always require much time for
the production of elegant and spirited wriling, interspers-
ed with passages of remarkable beauty, and of the
most elaborate polish, is plain from his two earliest pub-
lications, both composed currente calamo, and each yield-
ing as powerful and finished specimens of style and
thought as can be drawn from his work^

254

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL,

astonishment *• O sir, (said he) I am only
qunlifying myself for the society of a Doc-
tor of Divinity; and this, iiolding up the
pipe, is my test of admission."

Mr. Hall's Cambridge friends were di-
vided in their feelings and wislies with
regard to this new practiro. Tlie majority
approved it. from a beliei' that the narcotic
influence of tobacco would mitigate the
pain which he liad so long endured. Oth-
ers, apprehen(h'ng that his habit of con-
verting vverij thing- info a source of enjoy-
ment would transform him into an unremit-
ting smoker, and that injury to his health
would ensue, ventured to expostulate with
him. I belonged to the latter class, and
put info his hands Dr. Adam Clarke's
pamphlet on '' The Use and Abuse of To-
bacco," with a request that he would read
it. In a iew days he returned if, and at
once, as if to preclude discussion, said.
"Thank you, sir, for Adam Clarke's
pamphlet. I can't refute his arguments,
and I can't give up smoking."

We now approach the time when Mr.
Hall acquired a signal extension of celeb-
rity. Many who had hailed the French
Revolution of 1789 as an event productive
of extensive benefit, were compelled to ad-
mit, after a few years, that the great lead-
ers in that Revolution, and .still more their
followers, committed grievous blunders, and
grosser crimes, from the want of higher
than political principles to control their
actions. Yet, in the false security which
some felt, and others insidiously aimed to
inspire, it was suspected by but few, that
much of our periodical literature, had under
the plea of encouraging free discussion,
become irreligious in its tendency, and that
various unprincipled demagogues in Lon-
don and the large manufacturing towns,
not only held up to admiration the conduct
of the detestable actors in " the reign of
terror," but were constantly exerting them-
selves to disseminate democracy and athe-
ism conjointly. Such, however, was the
fact. From 1795 to 1799, debating rooms
were opened in various parts of the me-
tropolis, in which the most barefaced infi-
delity was taught, and to which the lower
classes were invited, often on Sunday eve-
nings, by a variety of specious allurements.
Mr. Hall was no sooner aware of the exist-
ence of these sources of evil, and of the
mischief they produced, than he began to
use the voice of warning, in his private
intercourse among his people, and to im.-
press upon such of the young as he feared
had received a sceptical bias, that of all
fanaticism the fanaticism of infidelity then
prevalent was at once tlie most preposte-
rous and the most destructive.

Mr. Hall's persuasion of the continuance
and growth of this infidel spirit, induced

him to preach and publish his celebrated

sermon on "Modern Infidelity;" which
was not, therefore, as many affirmed, a
hasty production, written under excited
feelings and false alarms, but the dehberate
result of a confirmed belief, that the most
strenuous eflbrts were required to repel
mischief so awfully and insidiously diffus-
ed.

Before the publication of this sermon, its
author had fully " counted the cost" as to
the obloquy wiiich it would bring upon
him from various quarters ; but he did not
at all anticipate its extraordinary success,
and the corresponding extension of his
reputation. As repeated editions were
called for, he yielded his assent with great
hesitation, from a fear that the copies
would remain unsold ; and he was the last
to see, what every one else perceived, that
it ha.d carried his celebrity as a profound
thinker and eloquent writer far beyond the
limits of the denomination to which he was
so bright an ornament.

Immediately after this sermon issued
from the press, the consistency and integri-
ty of the author were vehemently attacked
in several letters which appeared in the
" Cambridge Intelligencer," then a popular
and widely circulated newspaper. Its edi-
tor, Mr. Flower, had received in an ill spirit
Mr. Hall's advice that he would repress
the violent tone of his political disquisi-
tions, and had, from odier causes which
need not now be developed, become much
disposed to misinterpret his motives and
depreciate his character. He, therefore,
managed to keep alive the controversy for
some months, occasionally aiding, by his
own remarks, those of his correspondents
who opposed Mr. Hall, and as often cast-
ing illiberal insinuations upon the individ-
ual who had stepped forward in defence of
the sermon and its author. A few months
after this discussion subsided, Mr. Flower,
who had been summoned before the house
of lords, and imprisoned in Newgate for a
libel on Bishop Watson, published an ex-
culpatory panq^hlet ; in which, with a view
to draw the attention of the public as spee-
dily as possible from his own unmanly and
disingenuous conduct, while at the bar of
the house, he soon passed from his person-
al defence to a virulent attack upon Mr.
Hall, his former pastor.

Shortly afterwards, another controvert-
ist, a Mr. Anthony Robinson, unwilling
that Mr. Flower and his coadjutors should
gather all tlie laurels in so noble a conflict,
hastened into the field ; and, it must be
admitted, left them far behind. He pub-
lished, in a pamphlet of more than sixty
pages, "An Examination" of Mr. Hall's
Sermon. He did not bring against the
preacher the positive charge of apoetacy

MEMOIR OP ROBERT HALL.

255

having discrimination enough to see that it
was one thing to refer the atrocities of the
reign of terror to the pohtical principles of
the perpetrators, and quite another to as-
cribe them to their avowed and unblushing
atheism. But the crimes that he imputed
to Mr. Hall, were, that he was " an imitator
of Mr. Burke," that he was " fierce and
even savage in expression," that his "char-
ges against atheism are unfounded," and
" that he taught that it was excusable, if not
meritorious, to punish men for errors in
religious opinions !" For himself, he main-
tained, that " all men are essentially alike
in moral conduct ;" that the sum of all the
morality of religionists is, " do good unto
the household of faith, and to them only ;
kill, plunder, calumniate the heretics ;" that
" all public religions are opposed to all pri-
vate moralify ;" that " atheism (on the
contrary) tends but little to alter our moral
sentiments ;" and that " all religions except
the belief that rewards are to be conferred
upon the beneficent, and for that service
exclusively, are not merely as bad, but
infinitely worse than any kind or degree
of sceplicism ;" because " atheism leave;
every human present motive in full force,
whilst every religion or mode of faith dif-
ferent from what is above expressed, chan-
ges the name and the nature of morality,
saps the foundation of all benevolence, and
introduces malice, hostility and murder,
under the pretext of love to God.?'' This
being a fair specimen of the shameless
impiety with which the press then teemed,
we need not wonder at the applauses be-
stowed upon Mr. Hall for advancing with
such singular talent and ability to stem the
torrent.

With the exception o^ a few letters from
private friends, who disapproved of his
denominating the Roman Catholic clergy
" the Christian priesthood," every commu-
nication he received was highly gratifying,
especially as it did justice to his motives.
The most distinguished members of the
university were loud in his praises : numer-
ous passages in the sermon which were
profound in reasoning, or touching and
beautiful in expression, were read and eu-
logized in every college and almost every
company; and the whole composition was
recommended in the charges and sermons
of the dignified and other clergy in terms
of the warmest praise. The "Monthly
Review" (then the leading critical journal")
the "British Critic," (at that time) under
the able superintendence of Dr. Nares, and
other reviews, gave to the sermon the
highest commendation. Kelt in his " Ele-
ments of General Knowledge," William
Beleham in his "History of Great Britain,"
Dr. Parr in the notes to his celebrated
'" Spital Sermon," and many othert;, were

profuse in their expressions of panegyric.
From that time Mr. Hall's reputation was
placed upon an eminence, which it will
probably retain as long as purity and ele-
vation of style, deeply philosophical views
of the springs and motives of action, and
correct theological sentiments, are duly ap-
preciated in the world.*

Of the letters received by Mr. Hall on
this occasion, the following from the pen of
his friend Mackintosh, has escaped the rav-
ages of time.

'• Serle St. Lincoln's Inn, 26 March, 1800.

"Dear Hall,

"From the enclosed letter, you will
see the opinion which the Bishop of Lon-
don! has formed of your sermon, and you
will observe that he does some justice to
your merit. Mr. Archdeacon Eaton, to
Whom tlie letter was written, has allowed
me to send it to you ; and I thought it
might not be disagreeable to you to have
it, as the opinion of a man, not indeed of
very vigorous understanding, but an ele-
gant writer, a man of taste and virtue, not
to mention his high station in the church.

" I last night had a conversation about
the sermon with a man of much gi-eater
talents, at a place where theological, or
even literary discussions, are seldom heard.
It was with Air. Windham, at the Duchesif
of Gordon's rout. I asked him whether he
had read it. He told me that he had, that
he recommended it to every body; and,
among others, on that very day, to the new
Bishop of Bangor, who had dined with
him. He said that he was exceedingly
struck with the style, but still more with
the matter. He particularly praised the
passage on vanity as an admirable com-
mentary on Mr. Burke's observations on
vanity in his character of Rousseau. He
did not like it the worse, he said, for being
taken from the source of all good, as he
considered Mr. Burke's works to be. He
thought, however, that you had carried
your attack on vanity rather too far. He
had recommended the sermon to Lord
Grenville, who seemed sceptical about any
thing good coming from the pastor of a

* On tlic publication of Dr. Parr's "Spita! Sermon,"
I took a copy of it to Mr. Hall ; and sat down at his table
vvliilp lie liastily turned over the leaves. lie was greatly
amused by tlie cursory examination, but had evidently
no expectation that any of the notes referred to hmi-
elf. "What a profusion of Greek, sir! Why, if I
were to write so, they would call tne a pedant , hut il is
all natural in Parr." " What a strange medley, sir.
The gown.smeii will call him Farrago Parr." At leugth
I saw his eye glance upon the notes which relate lo him-

If. His countenance underwent the most rapid chan-
ges, indicating surprise, regret, and pity : in a very few
minutes he threw down the book, and exclaimed, " Poor
man ! poor man ! lam very sorry for him ! He is cej--
taiuly insane, Hir ! Where were his friends, sir ! Was
there nobody to sift the folly out of his notes, and pre-
vent Us publication ) Poor man "'

I Dr. Porleus. This enclosure is not now i»taut.

256

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

Baptist congregation, especially at Cam-
bridge.

"This, you see, is the unhappy impress-
ion which Priestley has made, and which,
if you proceed as you have so nobly begun,
you will assuredly efface. Bat you will
never do all the good which it is in your
power to do, unless you assert your own
importance, and call to mind that, as the
dissenters have no man comparable to you,
it is your province to guide them, and not
to be guided by their ignorance and big-
otry. I am almost sorry you thought any
aplogy due to those senseless bigots who
blamed you for compassion [towards] the
clergy of France, as innocent sufferers and
as martyrs of the Christian faith during
tlie most barbarous persecution that has
fallen upon Christianity, perhaps since its
origin, but certainly since its establishment
by Constantine. * * * * *
* * * I own I thought well of
Horsley when I found him, in his charge,
call these unhappy men "our Christian
brethren:" the bishops and clergy of the
persecuted church of France ! This is the
language of truth. This is the spirit of
Christianity.

" I met with a combination in Ovid, the
other day, which would have suited your
sermon. Speaking of the human descend-
ants of the giants, he says :

' Setl et ilia propago
Contemptrix superum, Se-ev^que avidissinia c.Tdis
Et violenta fuit. Scires e sanguine notos.'

Met. I. ICO.

" The union of ferocity with irreUgion is
agreeable to your reasoning.

" I am going to send copies of my third
edition* lo Paley and Watson, to Fox and
the Lord Chancellor.t I should hke to
send copies of your sermon with them. If
you will direct six copies to be sent here,
I shall distribute them in such a manner as
will, I think, not be hurtful.

" Mrs. Mackintosh joins me in the most
kind and respectful remembrance. Be-
lieve me ever,

"Dear Hall,

" Your affectionate friend,
"James Mackintosh."

Mr. Mackintosh continued to evince
both the steadiness of his friendship for
Hall, and the high value which he set upon
this sermon, by frequently quoting it and
applying it to the elucidation of the Lec-
tures which he was then delivering in
Lincoln's Inn. Several of his auditors
were, in consequence, induced sometimes
to spend their Sundays at Cambridge, that
they might listen to the pulpit instructions

• Of the Discourse on the Btndy of the Law of Nature
end Nations,
t The Earl of Rosslyn.

of the individual of whom they had heard
so much. Many also of the members of
the universit}^, including not merely under-
graduates, but college fellows and tutors,
were often seen at the Baptist place of
worship. These sometimes amounted to
fifty or sixty : and a few of them attended
so constantly upon the afternoon services,
that they became almost regarded as reg-
ular hearers. Among the latter, some
have since become distinguished men, and
occupy important stations either in the
church or in the public service, as statesmen
or senators.

The attendance of so many university
students upon the services of a dissenting
minister, at length began to excite alarm
among the " Heads of Houses ;" of whom
a meeting was summoned to consider the
expediency of interposing some authorita-
tive measure to prevent this irregularity.
But Dr. Mansel, then master of the largest
college, Trinity, and afterwards bishop of
Bristol, " declared that he could not be a
party in such a measure : he admired and
revered Mr. Hall, both lor his talents and
for his genuine liberality ; he had ascer-
tained that his preaching was not that of a
partisan, but of an enlightened minister of
Christ; and that therefore if he were not
the master of Trinity he should certainly
often attend himself; and that even now
he had experienced a severe struggle be-
fore he could make up his mind to relin-
quish so great a benefit." Shortly after
this he personally thanked Mr. Hall, not
only for his sermon, but for his general ef-
forts in the Christian cause ; and, through
the medium of a common friend, endeav-
ored to induce him to enter the established
church. This, I believe, was the only di-
rect attempt to persuade Mr. Hall to con-
form.

None of these circumstances were per-
mitted to draw Mr. Hall aside from his
ordinary course. His studies, his public
duties, his pastoral visits, were each assign-
ed their natural place, as before. If there
were any change, it was manifest in his in-
creased watchfulness over himself, and,
perhaps, in giving a rather more critical
complexion than before to certain portions
of his morning expositions, and in always
concluding them with such strong practical
appeals as might be suited to a congrega-
tion of mixed character.

If I do not greatly mistake, however, his
sentiments with regard to controversy in
general were considerably modified from
this period. The language of the preface
to his sermon, on the advantages of union,
became the language of his heart and con-
duct ; so that he abstained from public dis-
cussions except on questions that seemed
of vital importance, either in regard to

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

257

fundamental truth, or the essential privi-
leges of Christians. Having learnt that
one of the severest trials of human virtue
is the trial of controversy, he resolved, on
occasions when silence became inexpedi-
ent or censurable, not to repel even injus-
tice and misrepresentation in an angry
spirit. Thus when he undertook the refu-
tation of Bishop Horsley's charge, that
village preachers among methodists and
dissenters were teachers of insubordina-
tion and sedition, indignant as he doubt-
less felt at so unjust an insinuation, he op-
posed it in a manner as remarkable for the
conciliatory spirit which it exhibits, as for
the singular train of original thought and
cogent argument which runs through that
interesting fragment.

In little more than two years after the
publication of the sermon on Modern Infi-
delity, Mr. Hall again appeared before the
public as an author. The transient peace
of Amiens was celebrated by a general
thanksgiving throughout England, on the
1st of June 1802. In the sermon preached
by Mr. Hall on that occasion, he endeav-
ored first to awaken the gratitude of his
auditors by a most touching picture of the

ing ihem as prisoners of war ; and then me-
naced this country with invasion. So
strange, and in some respects, so atrocious a
commencement of hostilities, had a singular
effect in melting down dissension, and dif-
fusing a spirit of almost unexampled una-
nimity, among all ranks and classes of the
community. To adopt Mr. HaH's emphat-
ic language : " It was a struggle for exist-
ence, not for empire. It must surely be
regarded as a happy circumstance that the
contest did not take this shape at an ear-
lier period, while many were deceived
by certain specious pretences of liberty
into a favorable opinion of our enemy's
designs. The popular delusion had pass-
ed ; the most itnexampled prodigies of
guilt had dispelled it; and, after a series
of rapine and cruelty, had torn from
every heart the last fibres of mistaken ■par-
tiality.'''' At this momentous period Mr.
Hall's love of his country was again sig-
nally evinced. On the fast day, 19th Oc-
tober 1S03, he preached at Bristol, where
he was then on a visit, a sermon after-
wards published ; " The Sentiments proper
to the Present Crisis," which had the hap-
piest effect in enkindling the flame of gen-

horrors 01 war, from which Europe had erous, active patriotism,
just escaped : and then to apply the grati- '

tude so excited, to acts of benevolence. I
have already adverted to Mr. Hall's rea-
sons for preaching that sermon memoriter^
without deviation from his own written
copy. I recur to it for a moment merely
to state, that though it was delivered with
the most impressive dignity, and with less
rapidity than that to which he usually
yielded himself, yet, in one or two parts, he
obviously felt great difficulty in checking
his inclination either to modify his lan-
guage, or to expatiate more at large. This
was especially observable at the passage
commencing with " Conceive but for a mo-
ment the consternation which the approach
of an invading army would impress on the
peaceful villages in this neighborhood."
He mentioned afterwards that the struggle
between his desire to correct what, he just
then saw, was " a confusion in the group-
ing," and his determination "not to deviate
from his lesson," was such as rendered it
almost impossible for him to proceed. To
this kind of perplexity he never again ex-
posed himself

The nation had scarcely tasted the bless-
ings of peace, when a dispute on one of
the articles of the treaty of Amiens involv-
ed us in a fresh war with the French.
Buonaparte, then first consul, aware of the
British ascendency at sea, resolved first to
attack our continental dominions. He also
seized on the persons and property of the
numerous English who had visited France
during t!ie brief interval of peace, detain-

VoL. 3.— Gc.

This sermon, perhaps, excited more
general admiration than any of the au-
thor's former productions ; on account of
its masterly exposure of prevailing errors,
its original and philosophical defence of
some momentous truths, and its remarkable
appropriateness to the exigencies of the
crisis. The last ten pages were thought
by many (and by Mr. Pitt among the num-
ber) to be fully equal in genuine eloquence
to any passage of the same length that
can be selected from either ancient or mod-
ern orators. They were re-printed in vari-
ous periodical publications, and widely cir-
culated in every direction ; and they evi-
dently suggested some of the finest thoughts
in Sir .Tames Mackintosh's splendid defence
of Peltier, the editor of TJAmbigu, who was
tried in London for a libel on Buonaparte.

In an old manuscript of Mr. Hall's, con-
taining outline notes of sermons preached
by him in 1801, 1802, and 1803, scarcely
any of them occupying more than two
pages, there are inserted the first rude
sketch of this valuable sermon, and, at the
distance of several pages, a few hints of
thovights and sentences designed to be in-
troduced near the close.

"I. Particulars in which our notions are
wrong, or 'we speak not aright,' with re-
gard to national judgments.

" 1. Political speculations on the second-
ary causes of our calamities, exclusive of
a regard to the hand of God.

"2. Wanton and indiscriminate censure
of the conduct of our rulers.

258

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL,

" We are permitted within .... limits to
animadvert on tiie measures of govern-
ment.

" 3. A confidence in an arm of flesh.

" Cursed is man, &c,

" 4. A reliance on our supposed superior
virtue.

" 5. General lamentations on tlie corrup-
tions of the age.

" Right sentiments. An acknowledg-
ment of the justice and dominion of God.

" Sincere confession of our sins. Dan.
ix. 8. Zech. X. 11, &c."

Such was the original synopsis. The
hints intended to he wori<ed in towards the
close of the sermon, are as below.

"Eternal God! (O thou) who ha.st at
once declared thyself the God of peace
and the Lord of hosts, go forth v/ith our
armies and shelter (shield) their heads in
the day of battle : give them (endow them

with) that undaunted courage, that

from trouble which springs from a sense of
thy presence.

"Under thy conduct, and fighting under
thy banners, we will employ all the resour-
ces which lie within our reach, .... with-
out trusting in an arm of flesh .... while
we behold with the eye of faith, what thy
prophet discerned in ancient times, the
plains filled with horses of fire and chariots
of fire.

" There is surely not one person here
who will tempt himself to .... by tJie fear
of death, when he reflects that, in the fai"
ure of this great enterprise, should the
crisis arrive, he must feel a thousand deaths
in tite extinction of religion, in the spolia-
tion of property, in the violation of chastity.

in the confusion of all orders when

all that is noble or holy, will be trampled

upon when death would be sought

with the avidity of . . . . when the enemies

triumphs will be felt in mourn . . . . ,

freedom entombed."

I have here presented the incipient
germs of tbought and expression, in this
extraordinary production, from a persua-
sion that the man of research into tlie op-
erations of intellect, will be deeply interest-
ed on comparing tliem with their finished
result.

On looking back upon the preceding pa-
ges, I perceive that I have laid myself open
to the charge of dwellinor too long upon
that portion of Mr. Hall's life during which
I also resided at Cambridge. Let me sim-
ply observe, then, that it was the portion in
which his fine ciiaracter assiuned, by the
means I ha to been tracing, its true place
in public estimation ; and that I may be
tbririven, if I have thus dwelt upon that
hrigiit ])eriod of my own existence, in which
T was open to tlie constant influence of as-
sociation witli one so pre-eminent in menial

and moral excellence. Yet I am not dis-
posed to allow the interesting memory of
a long friendship to interfere with biograph-
ical fidelity. I have spoken of Mr. Hall's
richer qualities agreeably to the estimate 1
then formed, but with a conviction that they
had not at that period reached their lull
maturity and vigor. I shall now advert to
a few of his defects, but with an equally
strong persuasion that they diminished as
his age, and judgment, and piety advanc-
ed.

I have already remarked, that Mr. Hall
was impetuous in argument. I must here
add, that he sometimes contended more for
victory than for truth. I never knew him
voluntarily lake what he believed to be the
wrong side of an argument, for the sake of
showing how adroitly he could carry on
the advocacy of any opinions which he, for
the moment, took the fancy to maintain ]
but, if ever he precipitated himself into the
assertion of erroneous sentiment, he would
strenuously defend his opinion ; and, on
such occasions, would seem more pleased
with perplexing and confounding his oppo-
nents, than with faithfully endeavoring to
set either them or himself right. This
habit was very much restrained, if not al-
together overcome, in the latter part of his
life. Be it observed, however, that at no
time did it tempt him to trifle with the
sanctities of religion.

Besides this yielding to the temptation
of making the matter of truth and error a
prize for contest, there was another thing
which, in social life, depreciated the prac-
tical value of his great ability, namely, a
random carelessness in throwing out opin-
ions and estimates of subjects, books, or
men. Many of those opinions were graph-
ically correct, and highly valuable, and
they were usually clothed in an aphoris-
matic terseness of language ; yet, were
too often such, that plain, credulous listen-
ers for instruction, regarding him as an
oracle, would leave him incorrect and fal-
lacious notions of the topics on which he
had spoken ; and would, therefore, be
strangely perplexed two or three weeks
afterwards, on hearing, or hearing report-
ed, contrary opinions on the same subjects
stated by him subsequently, when farther
invesliijation had cerrecled his judgment.
Sometimes, too, especially when indulging
in panegyric, he would, t^\-en in conversa-
tion, give himself up to the feelings of the
orator, and allow his fancy to escape into
the ideal, sketching tlie picture then exist-
ing in his own thouizhls, rather than that
of the individual whom he imagined him-
self describing.

It was also much to be regretted, that
when in company, he did not keep habitu-
ally in view the good which his great lal-

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

259

ents and high character qualified him to [ During the early months of the year 1803,
impart. His conversation, though always the pain in Mr. Hall's back increased, both
conveying information on the various sub-iin intenseness and continuity; depriving

jects generally brought forward in culti
vated society, did not indicate the prevail-
ing purpose of leading the minds of oth-
ers in a right direction. Or, if he entered
society with this determination, he fre-
quently permitted the circumstances into
which he was thrown, to divert him from
his purpose : thus giving away his admira-
ble conversational powers to the mere cas-
ual train of topics, many of them trivial in
interest. There could not but be various
acute remarks, and every now and then a
piece of valuable disquisition, or a most
important sentiment, or an eloquent flow of
striking observations; yet there was not a
systematic bearing towards positive utihty.
Often, indeed, has Mr. Hall lamented this
defect : often, as we have been returning
from a party which he had kept alive by
the brilliancy and variety of his observa-
tions, has he said, " Ah ! sir, I have again
contributed to the loss of an evening, as to
every thing truly valuable : go home with
me, that we may spend at least one hour in
a manner which becomes us."

It should be added, however, that it was
only in larger parties that this occurred. I
never spent an evening with him alone, or
with the addition of one or two select com-
panions, in which the sublimer purposes of
religious, as well as intellectual intercourse,
were no! prevailingly kept in view.

In adverting to the deficiencies in Mr.
Hall's character, I must farther remark,
that he did not always seem adequately
alive to special modes and efforts of utility
There were times when his apparent indif-
ference must have been thought scarcely
compatible with his uniform benevolence
and piety, unless by those who were thor-
oughly aware that his infirmities often
compelled him to avoid active exertions,
except those which fell within the range of
ministerial duty; yet, at other seasons, he
exerted himself so powerfully and success-
fully in favor of some grand object, as, in
great measure, to compensate for his habit-
uality avoiding the ordinary detail of minor
operations.

His defects, on whatever occasions they
showed themselves, were as remote as pos-
sible from littleness, and were such as
would be most naturally found in a noble
character. We may hence learn, however,
that a man, though far enriched above his
fellows with intellectual and spiritual en-
dowments, still manifests the frailties of a
fallen being; and that it always behoves
us, therefore, with Christian discrimination.
to distinguish between grace and nature :
to give to God his own glory, and to refer
to men their own infirmities.
But I must return from this digression.

him almost always of refreshing sleep, and
depressing his spirits to an unusual degree.
On one of his visits to Kettering and its
neighborhood, he consulted Dr. Kerr, of
Northampton, who recommended him to
reside a kv7 miles from Cambridge, and to
have recourse to horse exercise. In conse-
quence of this advice, he took a house at
Shelford, a village about five miles from
Cambridge; and the frequent and short
journeys on horseback which thus became
necessary for a season, seemed beneficial.
Yet, the advantage was not of long con-
tinuance. He missed his delightful eve-
nings spent in the society of the intelligent
classes of the congregation (of whom there
was a much higher proportion than in most
congregations,) and he missed still more,
the simple, heart- refreshing retmarks of the
poor of his flock, whose pious converse had
always been peculiarly soothing to his
mind. It is true, he there enjoyed inter-
course with two excellent men, both of
whom he cordially esteemed, Mr. James
Nutter, a valuable member of his church
at Cambridge, and the Rev. Thomas Thom-
ason, afterwards one of the East-India
Company's chaplains at Calcutta. With
these friends he sometimes spent his eve-
nings ; and in company with the latter, who
was Mr. Simeon's curate at Trinity church,
he frequently rode to Cambridgs on the
Sunday mornings: these brothers in the
gospel ministry proceeding thus pleasantly,
" in the unity of the Spirit," to their re-
spective spheres of labor in the church of
God. Gratifying, however, as this inter-
course was, both to Mr. Hall and his valu-
ed neighbors, it still left him too much
alone, and too much exposed to all the mor-
bid influences of a disordered body, and of
a mind overstrained. Often has he been
known to sit close at his reading, or yet
more intensely engaged in abstract thought,
for more than twelve hours in the day ; so
that, when one or both of his kind friends
have called upon him, in the hope of draw-
ing him from his solitude, they have found
him in such a state of nervous excitement,
as led them to unite their efforts in persuad-
ing him to take some mild narcotic, and
I'Ctire to rest. The painful result may be
anticipated. This noble mind lost its equi-
librium ; and he who had so long been the
theme of universal admiration, now became
the subject of as extensive a sympathy.
This event occurred in November 1804.
Mr. Hall was placed under the care of Dr.
Arnold, of Leicester, whose attention, with
the blessing of God, ui about two months,
restored him both to mental and bodily
health.
During this afflictive suspension of hla

260

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

pastoral duties, his church and congrega-
tion gave the most unequivocal prool's that
they had caught somevt'hat of hk generous
and exalted spirit, and that tliey were de-
sirous to conduce to his welfare in temporal
things, in acknowledgment of the spiritual
blessings he had been the means of convey-
ing to them. They set on foot a subscrip-
tion, to which themselves conlributed most
liberally, and which, by the aid of other
friends, became sufficient to produce, be-
sides a hfe annuity of one hundred pounds,
a farther sum nearly equal, vested in gov-
ernment securities ; the latter to be at his
own disposal at death: each sum being
properly vested in trustees.

In April 1S05, he resumed his ministerial
functions at Cambridge : but, it being
deemed inexpedient for him to re-occupy
hia house at Shelford, he engaged another
at Foulmire, about nine miles from Cam-
bridge. This spot, doubtless, was unwisely
selected ; as his opportunities of social in-
tercourse with old and intimate friends
were almost enlirely cut off, and he was
thus left to feed more upon his own thoughts
than in any preceding part of his life.
The evil did not show itself in his public
ministrations, which were regarded as more
devout, intellectual, and impressive, than
they had ever been; nor in any diminution
of relish for works in which genius stood
forth in defence of religious truth ; as his
exquisite critique upon Foster's Essays,
written at this period, amply evinces. But
the evils resulting from solitude and a re-
turn of his old pain with more than its
usual severity, ere long began to show
themselves. Sleepless nights, habitual ex-
clusion from society, a complete self-ab-
sorption, and the incessant struggle between
what was due to a church and congrega-
tion which had given such signal proofs of
affection for him, and what he felt to be
necessary for his own preservation, a speedy
removal from air and scenery that more
and more impaired his health and oppress-
ed his spirits : these, at about twelve months
after his former attack at Shelford, produc-
ed a recurrence of the same maladj^, Avhich
again laid him aside from public duty.

He soon, however, recovered the com-
plete balance of his mental powers, under
the judicious care of the late Dr. Cox, of
Fish Ponds, near Bristol. It was regarded
as essential to the permanent possession of
mental health and vigor, that he should
resign the pastoral office at Cambridgc\
that he should, for a year, at least, seek
retirement in a spot selected and cordially
approved by himself, abstain from preach-
ing, and as far as possible, avoid all strong
excitement.

Pursuant to this advice, he sent in his
letter of resignation. Thus terminated a

connection which had subsisted for fifteen
years, and had been of great benefit to Mr.
"Hall's character; while, by the divine
blessing upon his labors, it had transform-
ed a society that was rapidly sinking under
the influence of cold, or disputatious specu-
lators, into a flourishing church and con-
gregation, " bringing forth the fruits of
righteousness," and shining in the lustre
of a consistent Christian profession. It is
pleasing to remark that the attachment on
both sides remained undiminished until Mr.
Hall's death.

On recovering from this attack, he re-
ceived a letter from his old friend Sir James
Mackintosh, then Recorder of Bombay,
which was written soon after Sir James
had heard of his first indisposition. It ia
highly interesting, both as a memorial of
genuine friendship, and as a beautiful ex-
hibition of elevated and delicate sentiment.
My insertion of it will not, however, be
regarded as a proof that I entii-ely adopt
the theory which the writer so elegantly
sketched.

''Bombay, Sept. 21, 1805.
"My dear Hall,

" I believe that, in the hurry of leaving
England, I did not answer the letter which
you Avrote lo me in December 1S03. I did
not, however, forget 3'our interesting young
friend, from whom I have had one letter
t>om Constantinople, and to whom I have
twice written at Cairo, where he now is.
No request oi^ yours could, indeed, be lightly
esteemed by me.

" It happened to me a few days ago, in
drawing up fmerely for my own use) a
short sketch of my life, that I had occasion
to give a faithful statement of my recollec-
tion of the circumstances of my first ac-
quaintance with yo\a. On the most impar-
tial survey of my early hfe, I could see
nothing which tended so much to excite
and invigorate my understanding, and to
direct it towards high, though, perhaps,
scarcely accessible objects, as my intimacy
with you. Five and twenty years are now
past since we first met; yet hardly any
thing has occurred since, which has left a
deeper or more agreeable impression on
iny mind. I now remember the extraordi-
nary union of brilliant fancy with acute
intellect which would have excited more
admiration than it has done, if it had been
dedicated to the amusement of the great
and the learned, instead of being conse-
crated to the far more noble office of con-
soling, instructing, and reforming the poor
and the ibrgotten.

" It was then too early for me to discover
that extreme purity, which in a mind pre-
occupied with tlie low realities of life, would
have been no natural companion of so much;

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

261

activity and ardor, but which thoroughlylall its imperfections; and employ your

detached you from the world, and made
you the inhabitant of regions where alone
It is possible to be always active without
impurity, and where the ardor of your sen
sibility had unbounded scope amidst the
inexhaustible combinations of beauty and
excellence.

"It is not given to us to preserve an
exact medium. Nothing is so difficult as
to decide how much ideal models ought to
be combined with experience ; how much
of the future should be let into the present,
in tlie progress of the human mind. To
ennoble and purify, without raising us above
the sphere of our usefulness ; to qualify us
for what we ought to seek, without unfit-
ting us lor that to which we must submit ;
are great and difficult problems, which can
be but imperfectly solved.

'' It is certain the child may be too manly,
not only for his present enjoyments, but for
his future prospects. Perhaps, my good
friend, you have iailen into this error of
superior natures. From this error has, I
think, arisen that calamity with which it
has pleased Providence to visit you, Avhich,
to a mind less fortified by reason and relig-
ion, I should not dare to mention, but which
I really consider in you as little more than
the indignant struggles of a pure mind
with the low realities which surround it;
the fervent aspirations after regions more
congenial to it: and a momentary blind-
ness, produced by the fixed contemplation
of objects too bright for human vision. I
may say, in this case, in a far grander
sense than that in which the words were
originally spoken by our great poet,

• "And yet

" ' The light which led astray was light from heaven.'

" On your return to us, you must surely
have found consolation in the only terres-
tial produce which is pure and truly exquis-
ite ; in the affections and attachments you
have inspired, which you were most worthy
to inspire, and which no human pollution
can rob of their heavenly nature. If I
were to prosecute the reflections, and in-
dulge the feelings, which at this moment
fill my mind, I should soon venture to
doubt, whether, for a calamity derived from
such a source, and attended with such con-
solations, I should so far yield to the views
and opinions of men, as to seek to condole
with you. But I check myself, and I ex-
hort you, my most worthy friend, to check
your best propensities, for the sake of at-
taining their object. You cannot live for
men without living with them. Serve God
then by the active service of men. Con-
template more the good you can do, than
the evil you can only lament. Allow your-
self to see the loveliness of virtue amidst

moral imagination, not so much by bring-
ing it into contrast with the model of ideal
perfection, as in gently blending some of
the fainter colors of the latter with the
brighter hues ol' real experienced excel-
lence ; thus heightening their beauty, in-
stead of broadening the shade which must
surround us till we awaken from this dream
in other spheres of existence.

" My habits of life have not been favor-
able lo this train of meditation. I have
been too busy or too trifling. My nature
perhaps would have been better consulted,
if I had been placed in a quieter station,
where speculation might have been my
business, and visions of the fair and good
my chief recreation. When I approach
you, I feel a powerlul attraction towards
this which seems the natural destiny of my
mind ; but habit opposes obstacles, and
duty calls me otij and reason frowns on
him who wastes that reflection on a destiny
independent of him, which he ought to
reserve for actions of which he is the mas-
ter.

In another letter I may write to you on
miscellaneous subjects ; at present I cannot
bring my mind to speak of them. Let me
hear from you soon and often.

" Farewell, my dear friend.

"Yours ever most laithfully,

"James Mackintcsh."

Two visitations of so humiliating a ca-
lamity within the compass of a year deeply
affected Mr. Hall's mind. Happily, how-
ever, for himself and for the world, his
spirits soon recovered their wonted tone ;
and the permanent impression on his char-
acter was exclusively religious. His own
decided persuasion was, that, however vivid
his convictions of religious truth, and of
the necessity of a consistent course of evan-
gelical obedience had formerly been, and
however correct his doctrinal sentiments
during the last four or five years, yet that
he did not undergo a thorough transforma-
tion of character, a complete renewal of
his heart and affections, until the first of
these seizures. Some of his Cambridge
friends, who visited him at Shelford, previ-
ously to his removal to Dr. Arnold's and
witnessed his deep prostration of soul while
he read the fifty-first psalm, and made each
verse the subject of penitent confession and
of a distinct prayer, were rather inclined
to concur with him as to the correctness of
the opinion. Be this, however, as it may
(and the wonderful revelations of "the great
day" can alone remove the doubt.) there
can be no question that from this period he
seemed more to live under the prevailing
recollection of his entire dependence upon
God, that his habits were more devotional

262

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

than they had ever before been, his exer-
cises more fervent and more elevated.

In a letter written to liis friend Mr. Phil-
lips, of Claphani, after his recovery, he
thus adverts lo his alDiptioiis :

"I cannot look back iijion tlie events
which have befallen nie, without admira-
tion and oratitude. T am a monument of
the goodness and of the severity of God.
My sutieriners have been extreme, and the
kindness of God. in interposing in my be-
half unspeakable. Pray lor me, my dear
friend, that I may retain an indelible sense
of the mercies received, and that the incon-
ceivable afflictions I have undergone may
' work tor me the peaceable fruits of right-
eousness.' I am often afraid lest it should
be with me as with the ancient Israelites,
who, after they had sung the praises of
God, ' soon forgot his Avorks.' O ! that a
life so signally redeemed from destruction,
may be as signally employed in that which
is alone the true end of life, the service of
God. But my heart is 'hke a deceitful
bow,' continually prone to turn aside ; so
that nothing but the powet-ful impulse of
divine grace can fix it in a right aim."

At this time, I believe, Mr. Hall, under
the persuasion to which I have just allude
made a solemn dedication ot^ himself to
God, renewing the act annually on the re
currence of his birth-day. One of these
touching and impressive record
has been found among his papers, will
feel assured, be read Avith deep interest.

"An Act of solemn Dedication of iMy-
sEi.F TO God.
" O Lord, thou that searchest the heart
and triest the reins of the children of men.
be thou the witness of what I am now
about, in the strength of thy grace, to at-
tempt : that grace 1 humbly and earnesdy
implore, to give validity and effect to that
act of solemn engagement of mj'self to
thy service, on which I am about to enter.
' Thou knowest my foolishness, and my
sins are none of them hid from thee.' ' I
was born in sin, and in iniquity did my
mother conceive me.' I am an apostate,
guilty branch of an apostate guilty root,
and my life has been a series of rebel-
lions and transgressions, in whieh I have
walked ' according to the course ol' this
world; according to the Prince of the poAv-
er of the air, the spirit thai now worketh
in the children of disobedience.'' Hoav
shall I confess my transgressions before
thee ; what numbers can reach ; what words
can adequately express them! ''My ini
quities have increased over vnj head, and
my transgressions have grown up itntu
Heaven.' O Lord, I esteem it a wonderi'ul
mercy that I have not long since been cut
off in U^e midet of my sine, and been sent

to hell before I had an opportunity or a
heart to repent. Being assured li-om the
word of God of thy gracious and merciful
nature, and of thy wiUingness to pardon
and accept penitent believing sinners on the
ground of the blood and righteousness of
thine OAvn adorable Son, 'Avho died, the
just for the unjust, to bring them to God,'
and that ' him thatcometh to him he Avill in
noAvise cast out,' I do most humbly pros-
trate myself at the footstool ot" his cross,
and through him enter into thy covenant.
1 disclaim all right to myself from hence-
fonli, to my soul, my body, my time, my
health, my reputation, my talents, or any
thing that belongs to me. I confess myself
to be the property of the glorious Redeem-
er, as one whom I hund)ly hope he has
redeemed by his blood to be part of ' the
first fruits of his creatures.'

" I do most cheerfully and cordially re-
ceive him in all his offices, as m)' priest,
my prophet, and my king. I dedicate my-
self to him, to serve, loA-e and trust in him
as my hfe and my salvation to my life's
end.

" I renounce the Devil and all his Avorks,
the fiesh and the Avorld, Avith heartfelt regret
that I should have been enslaved by them
so long. I do solemnly and deliberately
take thee to be my full and satisfying good,
and eternal portion in and through thine
Avhichl^'^orable Son the Redeemer, and by the
1 assistance of the blessed Spirit of all grace,
the third person in the triune God, A\'hom I
take to be my sanctifier, and comforter to
the end of time, and through a happy
eternity, praying that the Holy Spirit may
deign "to take perpetual possession of my
heart and fix his abode there.

"I do most solemnly devote and give up
myself to the FatluT, the Son, and the
Holy Ghost, agreeably to the terms of the
Gospel Covenant, and in humble expecta-
tion of the blessings it ascertains to sincere
believers. I call thee to Avitness, O God f
the truth and realitj' of this surrender of
all 1 have, and all I am, to thee ; and, con-
scious of the unspeakable deceitfulness of
my heart, I humbly and earnestly implore
the influence of thy Spirit to enable me to
stand steadfast in this covenant, as AA'ell as
an interest in the blood of the Son, that I
may be forgiven in those instances (alas !
that such an idea should be possible.) in
which I ma}', in any degree, sAverA'e from
it.

" Done this [2d J day of May 1809, seven
o'clock in the CA^ening, Leicester.

"Robert Hall."

Mr. Hall, on his removal from Dr. Cox's,
spent some months among his relatives
and friends in Leicestershire. At Arnsby
he retraced the scenes of his youtli, often

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

263

visited the grave-yard, which would nat-
urally awaken many interesting recollec-
tions of his early life, and on these occa-
sions he has more than once been seen
kneeling at his father's grave, engaged in
earnest prayer. He afterward resided, for
a time, at Enderby, a pleasant and seques-
tered village, five miles from Leicester,
where, by the united influence of calm re-
tirement and gentle spontaneous occupation
he gradually regained his bodily health,
with great mental tranquility, and a renew-
ed capacity for usefulness in the church.

His friends Dr. Ryland and Mr. Fuller,
persuaded of the benefits that would flow
from drawing his attention to a specific ob-
ject, requested him to investigate the criti-
cal pecuHarities of some difficult texts in
the New Testament, respecting which Dr.
Marshman had asked the opinion of his
friends in England. This judicious appli-
cation directed his thoughts to some of his
old and favorite inquiries, and produced the
most salutary effects.* From this he pass-
ed to other literary occupations, thence to
closer biblical study, and, in due time,
when his strength and self-possession were
adequately restored to permit the exertion
without injury, he returned to the delightful
work of " proclaiming the good tidings of
peace."

He first preached in some of the villages
around him ; and then, occasionally, to a
small congregation assembling at a chapel
in Harvey lane, Leicester, which had sever-
al years before been under the care of that
eminent man Dr. Carey, now of Seram-
pore. The congregation had been dimin-
ishing for some years, and at this time did
not exceed two hundred and fifty : the
church consisted of seventy-six members.
After having preached to them a few
months, he accepted an invitation to be-
come their stated pastor ; and his ministe
rial labors were soon followed by tokens
of good. " The people," said he in a letter
to Dr. Ryland, " are a simple-hearted, af-
fectionate, praying people, to whom I
preach with more pleasure than to the more
refined audience at Cambridge. We have
had, through mercy, some small addition,
and hope for more. Our meetings in gen-
eral, our prayer-meetings in particular, are
well attended."

With this church he continued connected
nearly twenty years. The church and con-
gregation steadily increased during that

For inore than two years he employed much time in
a cridMl exainin-.ition of the Now Testament, and in
arranging such corroded Iranslitions as he deemed im-
portant, with short reasons for his deviating from the
authorized version ; intending to publish the whole in a
(lauiphlct of about one hundred p^srg. Just as he had
finisliod this work, ho for the first liiop s^iw Mackni-dit's
new Transhtjoii of t.l,c Apo.ifolic !ip,stl.-s ; and tingling
mm'iell auticiixited in m-tny of the corrections which he
ttought iao.qt viljible. d^str.j e.l his manuscript.

long interval, and scarcely any thing of mo-
ment occurred to interrupt their internal
peace. The place of worship, which when
Mr. Hall first settled there would not con-
veniently hold ibur hundred persons, was
enlarged in 1809 lor the reception of about
eight hundred ; and in 1817 a second en-
largement rendered it capable of accommo-
dating a thousand persons. In 1826, at the
close of Mr. Hall's labors there, the place
was comfortably filled, and the members of
the church, besides those who it is believed
hud gone to their eternal reward, amount-
ed to nearly three hundred. More than a
hundred of those who constituted the eve-
ning congregation were pious members of
the Church of England.

In the autumn of 1807 Mr. Hall removed
from Enderby to a house in Leicester,
which he engaged partly that he might
more conveniently associate with the people
of his charge, and partly in anticipation of
his marriage, which took place in March,
1808. This event gave great and sincere
satisfaction to his old and intimate friends,
most of whom had long regretted that one
so evidently formed for domestic enjoy-
ments should for so many years have lived
without attaining them ; and had no doubt,
indeed, that an earlier marriage would, by
checking his propensity to incessant retire-
ment and mental abstraction, have preserv-
ed him from the heavy afflictions which had
befallen him. As Mrs. Hall still lives to
mourn the loss of her incomparable hus-
band, I must not permit myself more than
to testify how highly he estimated her kind-
ness and affection, and how ol'ten, in his
conversation, as well as in his letters, he
expressed his gratitude to God for giving
him so pious, prudent, and devoted a wife.
Of their five children, three daughters and
one son survive. Another son died in
1814.

Mr. Hall's residence at Leicester was not
only of longer continuance than at any oth-
er place, but I doubt not that it was the pe-
riod in which he was most happy, active,
and useful. His domestic comfort at once
contributed to a more uniform flow of spir-
its than he had for some time experienced,
and greatly to the regularity of his habits.
The increase both of attentive hearers and
of the number among them who were ad-
mitted to church-feiiowship, supplied con-
stant reason for encouragement and thank-
fulness. He was also within the reach of
ministers and others, of different persua-
sions, men of decided piety, and some of
them of considerable attainments, who
knew how to appreciate the extraordinary
advantages of frequent intercoiirse with
such an individual; thus yielding him the
delight of an interchange of soul and senii
ment; besides that fruit of friendship so apt-

264

MEMOIR OF liODERT HALL.

iy characterized by Lord Bacon : " Who-
soever hath his mind franglit witli many
thoughts, Ills wits and understanding do
clarity and break up in the conmiunicating
and discoursing with another, he losscth
hie thoughts more easily, he marshalleth
them more orderly, he seeth how they look
wlien they are turned into words, and he
waxeth wiser than himself, olten more by
an hour's discourse than by a day's medita-
tion."*

Leicester, from its situation in the heart
of the midland counties, as well as from its
importance in a leading inland manufac-
ture, was the cenrte of influence and ope-
ration to a considerable distance around ;
and the concurrence of many favorable cir-
cumstances had rendered it the centre also
of a religious influence, and of religious op-
erations, (liffiising themselves incessantly
with a new and growing impulse. To this
the Zealand activity of the late Rev. Thom-
as Robinson of Leicester, and of Mr. Hall's
lather, had greatly contributed ; and many
clergymen and dissenting ministers in Lei-
cestershire and the neighboring counties,
were, in their respective fields of labor, in-
strumental in producing the most cheering
and successful results. The attention of
the Christian w^orld had been recently in-
vited, or, I might i>erhaps say, summoned,
to promote the noble objects of missionary
societies, Bible societies, Sunday and other
schools for the instruction of the poor ; and
the summons had been obeyed in a univer-
sality and cordiality of vigorous Christian
effort, and in a. spirit ol'concihation and har-
mony, such as tlie world had not yet known.
Placed in the midst of so extensive a sphere
of benevolent and sacred influence, Mr.
Hall was soon roused to a measure of ac-
tivity and a diversity of employment to
which he had hitherto been a stranger.
The Bible Society at Leicester, missionary
societies there and all around, asked and
received his aid ; and these, with the differ-
ent public services of frequent occurrence
among orthodox dissenters, gave occasion
to the happiest exercise of his varied pow-
ers.

His religious character thus became cor-
rectly estimated by a much larger portion
of the comnmnity. Instead of being known

■ Mr. Hall, however, from the midway position of Lei-
cester, between London and the large towns in Lanca-
shire ami Yorkshire, was much exposed to interrnplioiis,
<See p. 282.) Many per.<!ons who had but a slicht ac-
quaintance with him would invariably spend a day at
Leicester in their way from London to Liveri)Ofil, Man-
chester, Sheffifcid, <Vr., or from either of those places to
London, that they might, during the greater part of it, en-
joy his society ; and, though he often fell this to be a real
annoyance, yet such was his feeling of what wa.< clue to
strangers in point of courtesy, that it was not until he had
sustained the inconvenience for almost twenty years that
ho would consent that this class of visitors shouM be in-
formed he would not hn at k-iisure to see thoiii until
«^e«in''-

chiefly to n)en of reading and taste, as an
author who had appeared before the world
on a few monu-ntous occa.«ions, and. after
a striking exhibition of intellectual and mor-
al energy, htid hastened back to his retire-
ment, he now became much more known
and revered as the correct and eloquent in-
terpreter of the Christian failh, the intreped
iissertor of its infinite superiority to all hu-
man .systems of philosophy or ntorals.
Long had he been admired by the intelli-
gent as a great man ; the circumstances in
which he now moved Avith so much philan-
thropic ardor caused him to be regarded,
not merely by these, but by pious men of"
every persuasion, as a good man, rejoicing
to consecrate his best faculties to the spe-
cific objects of the Christian ministrj^, and
such purposes of enlarged exertion a.s were
fully compatible with his holy calling.

Nor were these efforts, and this high es-
timate of their value, confined to the field of
activity he thus occupied. He had. on
quitting Bristol in 1791, consented to spend
a ^ew weeks with his friends there every
two years. He had also made a similar ar-
rangement for visiting Cambridge, Avhere
the members of his former congregation
had peculiar claims upon him. Although
his invariable dread of notoriety, and,
his dislike of the bustle of the metropolis
caused his visits there to be " few and far
between," yet they occurred sufficiently of-
ten to excite almost universally the high-
est admiration of his singular qualities as a
preacher, and convince many who previ-
ously had contemplated the evangelical sj's-
tem of religion with great disrelish that it
was the only foundation of elevated morali-
ty, and that its cordial adoption was not
necessarily repugnant to genius, learning,
and intellectual cultivation.

Wherever he went, he was called to ad-
dress overflowing congregations, and com-
monly of a remarkable mixed character.
Churchmen and dissenters ; men of rank
and influence, individuals in lower stations;
men of simple piety, and others of deep the-
ological knowledge; men who admired
Christianity as a beautiful system, and those
who received it into the heart of faith ; men
in doubt, others involved in unbelief: all
resorted to the place where he was announc-
ed as the preacher. Frequently he was
apprized of this peculiarity in the structure
of the auditory, and whenever that was the
;ase, the striking appropriation of the ser-
mon to the assembly was always manifest*

' While this sheet was going through the press, I ac-
cidentally found among some old letters one from a
iVicnd residing in France, in wliicli tliere was the follow-
ing allusion to Mr. Ifall by a French Protestant clergy-
man, who was visiting Bristol, in September, 1822, In a
letter addressed to another Protestant minister. Mr.
KiM-pezdron, of Aulnay, he savs.

'•I heard Mr. Robert Hall of Leicester last Tuesday
inorning ; but his sermon was so great, so good, so elo-.

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

265

Mr. Hall's writings during his residence
at Leicester, though by no means numerous,
tended greatly to augment his influence up-
on society.

The first of these was published anony-
mously in the Eclectic Review, but left no
room for hesitation as to its author. It was
a critique upon a pamphlet entitled " Zeal
without Innovation," which he undertook at
the earnest entreaty of the late Mr. Robin-
son of Leicester, '• who, in common with all
the serious clergy in those parts, disapprov-
ed the pamphlet highly." As it is no part
of my intention to present elaborate ac-
counts of Mr. Hall's successive publications,
it may suffice for me to remark with regard
to this critique, that while it places the con-
troversy between the puritans and their op-
ponents in a flood of light, and exhibits the
essential importance of religious liberty to
the growth, if not in some cases to the ex-
istence, of genuine, devotional Christianity ;
it presents a more admirable picture of the
character of the evangelical clergy,* a more
powerful, liberal and successful defence of
their object and conduct, than has been, as
yet, accomplished by any other person. Ma-
ny regard it as among the most iii.?tructive
and useful, as well as among the most master-
ly, of Mr. Hall's productions. It abounds in
keen satire, in irrefragable argument, in
touching description, in tasteful imagery, in
exquisite diction, and in sentiments of a
weight and worth only to be fully estimat-
ed by men whose minds are elevated above
the prejudices which tie us down to sects
and parties, and can rejoice at the extension
of true religion among persons of any per-
suasion, or through the instrumentality of
whomsoever the great Head of the church
may enjoy. The value set by the public
upon this disquisition was evinced in the rap-
id sale of three editions in a separate pam-
phlet, independently of its circulation in the
Review.

Of the sermons published by Mr. Hall dur-
ing his residence at Leicester, the first was
preached in behalf of the Sunday-school con-
nected with his own congregation, and ap-
peared under the title of '• The Advantages
of knowledge to the Lower Classes." The
subject is not precisely adapted to the dec
orations of eloquence ; for the deplorable
etTects of ignorance and the blessings of
knowledge are best exhibited in the detail
of facts, which admit of no embellishment
Mr. Hall's desire to enlarge the capacity
for enjoyment among the lower classes, as
well as to promote their highest welfare.

tempted him, however, to enter this region
of commonplaces, and thus gave a fresh op-
portunity of showing how an original think-
er can communicate an air of freshness to a
worn-out topic, bring up to the surface ar-
guments and illustrations that lie far below
the reach of ordinary reasonere, and enforce
them with a warmth and energy calculated
equally to impress and to convince.*

The next two sermons are of a much
higher order. One of them, on " The Dis-
couragements and Supports of the Christian
Minister," was addressed to the Rev. James
Robertson, on his ordination over the In-
dependent Church at Stretton, Warwick-
shire ; the other, which portrays the duties,
discouragements, and supports " of the
Christian Missionary," was addressed to the
Rev. Eustace Carey, on his designation as
a missionary to India. In these the author
traces with a master hand the various sour-
ces of discouragement and consolation which
appertain to the respective offices of the
minister and the missionary. Like one in-
timately acquainted with comparative an-
atomy, he exhibits the points of agreement
as well as those of diversity, in the different
subjects, with the most convincing discrimi-
nations ; while conversant as v/eM with the
morbid as the healthy anatomy of the sub-
jects before him, he explores to its inmost
recess that universal moral disease which
calls forth the efforts of both ministers and
missionaries, and then (where the analogy
must drop) he reveals the principles and the
origin of an infallible cure. Both these ad-
dresses are remarkable for their originality
and variety ; every topic successively ad-
vanced is irradiated with eloquence, and
glows with feeling ; and so skilfully are both
the discourses conducted, that while they
are avowedly directed to the minister and
the missionary, and abound in the most val-
uable instructions to them respectively, the
private Christian, who reads with devout
attention, may derive from them as rich in-
struction for himself, and as many directions
for his own religious improvement, as though
they were specifically addressed to him
alone. This, indeed, was a decided char-
acteristic of Mr. Hall's sermons. He who
heard, or lie who read, would find his as-

quent, so simple, so pion.s, in a word, so complete a piece
of pulpit oratory, that I cannot tell you any tiling about it
except that it has made an indeUible impression on my
mind. 1 thought when I came out that I never could
preach again."

• I use this term to avoid a periphrasis, and because it
ia intelligible and strictly cUaructcristic.

Vol. 1.— Hn.

t This scniion, as woll as his two able pamphlets on
the " Framework Knitters' Fund," and in " Ileply to
Cobbett and others" should be regarded as flowing en-
tirely from his benevolence. This, with him, had never
been a fleetins sentiment in occasional operation, but
one that was permanently fed by Christian principles.
It was, however, greatly extended, to adopt his own lan-
guage, "by thos>i impressions of tenderness gratitude,
and sympathy which the endearments of domestic life
supply," and led him to investigate the actual circumstan-
ces, of the neighI)oring poor, and constantly to aim at the
alleviation of their distress. Not long after his marriage
when his own pecuniary resources were much restrict-
ed, he proposed to fast on certain days, that he might
have it in his powerto distribute more among the needy ;
and he thought it wrong to have more than two coats wheo
so many persons around him weie clothed in mere rags^

26G

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

toiiisliment and udniirution strongly excit-
ed ; but often, if not always, the more his
emotion was enkindled by the preacher, the
more forcibly was he compelled to retire to
" the chambers of imagery," and examine
liis own lieart.

The sudden and untimely death of the
Princess Charlotte of Wales, was an event
calculated to make the deepest impression
imon a mind constituted like Mr. Hall's.
The illustrious rank of the victim, her youth
and recent marriage, the atiecting nature of
tlie catastrophe, its probable influence upon
the reigning monarch, upon the succession
to the Throne, and the welfare ol' tiie nation
even to distant ages ; all presented them-
selves to his thoughts with the most heart-
stirring energy. He preached three ser-
mons on the occasion, of Avhichmany of the
auditors affirm the one published was by no
means the best. It, however, by universal
acknowledgment, bore the palm above all
the numerous valuable sermons that were
then published. It embraces the various
topics that would occur to a man of piety,
feeling, and excursive thought, on the con-
templation of such an event, the mysteri-
ousness of God's providence, the vicissitudes
of empires, the aggravated poignancy of
sudden calamity to individuals of elevated
station, " the uncertainty of life, the frailty
of youth, the evanescence ot" beauty, the
nothingness of worldly greartness," the
blindness of man to futiu'ity, " the human
race itself withering" away, and the perpe-
tuity of God's promises as the great and
noble contrast to universal tYagility ; these
are touched in succession with the utmost
tenderness, beauty, and sublimity. In feli-
city of diction, in delicacy and pathos, in
the rich variety of most exquisite and in-,
structive trains of thought, in their cogent'
application to truths of the utmost moment,
in the masterly combination of what in elo-
quence, philosophy, and religion was best
calculated to make a permanent and saluta-
ry impression, this sermon probably stands
unrivalled.

Besides the various sermons and reviews
which lie wrote and published during his
residence at Leicester, he composed for
circidation among tlie associated Baptist
churches in the counties of Northampton,
Leicester, and Warwick, two tracts, On the
Work of the Holy Spirit, and On Hearing
the Word ; both deeply ind)ued with simple
evangelical truth, and rich in excellent prac-
tical n-marks. fitted for the beneficial peru-
sal of all classes. There were also other
rompo.eitions which he executed with singu-
lar felicity. I mean his l)iograp]iical sketch-
es. They are, except the rapid but exqui-
site sketches of Brain(^rd, Fletcher of Mad-
eley, and Henry Martyn. flic delineations
ofaJriauJ; and p(ihaps, in a lew partic-

ulars, need a slight allowance for the high
coloring to which the warmth of friendship
tempts us when meditating upon dej)arted
excellence ; yet they are, on the whole, ex-
act in the resemblance, and finely exempli-
fy the author's varied powers, especially
his delicate and accurate discrimination of
the degrees and shades of human charac-
ter.

One of these, the character of the Rev.
John Sutclifl', is an unfinished portrait ; Mr.
Hall, after a few unsatisfactory trials, relin-
quishing the attempt. The following letter
to Mr. Fuller, on the occasion of this fail-
ure will be read with interest, as an exam-
ple both of his diffidence and of his sense of
the obligation of a promise.

"My Deak Brother,

" I am truly concerned to tell you that I
cannot succeed at all in my attempts to draw
the character of our dear and venerable
brother Sutclif!". I have made several ef-
forts, and have sketched, as well as I could,
the outlines of what I conceive to be his
character ; but have failed in producing
such a portrait as appears to me fit lor the
public eye. I am perfectly convinced that
your intimacy with him, and your powers
of discrimination, will enable you to present
to posterity a much juster and more impress-
ive idea of jiim than I can. I am heartily
Sony I promised it. But promises 1 hold
sacred ; and therefore, il'you insist upon it,
and are not willing to release me from my
engagement, I will accomj)lish the task as
well as I can. But if you will let the mat-
ter \i-dsfisnb stVewito, without reproaching me,
you will oblige me considerabl)^ It appears
to n\t that, if 1 ever possessed a faculty of
character -drawing, I have lost it, probably
for want of use ; as I am fiir from taking
any delight in a minute criticism on char-
acter, to which, in my younger days, I Avas
excessively addicted. Both our tastes and
talents change with the progress of years.
The purport of these lines, however, is to
request you to absolve me from my prom-
ise, in which light I shall interpret your
silence ; holding myself ready, however, to
comply with your injunctions.
" I am, my dear sir,
" Your afTectionate broiher.

=' Sep. 1814. " R Hall."

For several years, about this time, Mr.
Hall's thoughts were gie^atly occupied upon
the subject of '• Terms of Communion."
His first publication in reference to it ap-
jieared in 1S15: but they who were admit-
ted to his intimacy will recollect how often,
three or four years before its ajipearance,
he advocated a cautious revision of the prac-
tice of nearly idl ciiurciies; and how suc-
cessfully he refuted the arguments of those

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

267

who favored any narrow system of exclu-
sion. He regarded the existence of a prin
ciple wliich made so many churches points
oi repulsion instead of centres of union as a
very serious evil ; and often deplored it in
language similar to that which commences
his first production on the subject.

The discussion, indeed, is neither of slight
nor of temporary interest. It involves the
prevailing practice of every church in
Christendom, whether established or inde-
pendent of an establishment ; and it in
eludes an answer to the inquiry how purity
of faith and conduct shall be preserved with
out an infringement of the principles requi
site to make every church a portion of that
sublime invisible society, the " Church Uni-
versal," constituted of all the members of
Christ's mystical body.

Rapidly approaching, as we seem to be,
to that state of things when all churches,
national as well as others, will feel the ex-
pediency, if not the necessity, of reverting
to first principles in modifying and improv
ing their several communities, the contro
versy on " Terms of Communion" forces
itself upon the attention as one of primary
importance, serving to ascertain and deter-
mine almost every question of value in ref-
erence to ecclesiastical polity.

I thus, though but for a moment, advert
to this controversy, that the general reader
may not be induced to under value it. It
occupies a considerable portion of the first
volume of these works, besides the sub-
stance of a distinct pamphlet inserted in the
second volume. Of the diiierent writers
who opposed Mr. Hall on this occasion, Mr.
Kiaghorn was, unquestionably, the most
acute and learned. HLs volume should be
read in connection with Mr. Hall's, by such
as wish to view the question in all its bear-
ings. Mr. Hall's part of the controversy is
conducted with his characteristic, frankness
and decision; and evinces the same clearness
copiousness, strength, and majesty of diction
as he uniformly displayed upon every subject
to which he bent his mind with all its power.
Sometimes when a narrow, illiberal senti-
ment, calculated to check the spirit of Chris-
tian union and affection, excites his indig-
nation, he rebukes with a cutting severity :
and I feel no inclination to deny, that, in a
few cases, he has suffered himself to indulge
in terms of sarcasm, if not of contempt, that
add nothing to his argument, and had been
better spared. Yet, as one of his bitterest
opponents has declared, "it was seldom
that his thunder was heard, but the bolt was
felt ; and both were exercised on the side of
truth and virtue."

In these, as in others of his controversal
pieces, the reader may safely reckon upon
much that is eloquent and impressive, apart
from what immediately relates to the ques-

tions under debate. Among which may be
specified the remarks on excommunication,
the beautiful delineation of the conduct of
our Lord, the passages distinguishing be-
tween conditions of salvation and meritori-
ous conditions, and those in which he dis-
criminates between the atonement contem-
plated as a fact and as a doctrine, and
thence infers the •' peculiar glory of the gos-
pel in contradistinction from the law of
Moses."

About this time* Mr. Hall had a corres-
pondence with, a friend on a kindred subject,
that of occasional communion. That indi-
vidual, though a decided Baptist, and long
a member of a dissenting church, was in the
habit of occasional communion with an
Episcopalian chapel in his neighborhood,
the minister of" which held evangelical sen-
timents. Mr. Hall expressed a desire to be
acquainted with his reasons for this prac-
tice. In reply, he informed Mr. Hall that
he thought those reasons flowed obviously
from the principles for which he himself was
so earnestly and successfully contending :
that one of the highest enjoyments of a man
who humbly hoped he constituted a part of
the church universal was to testify his feel-
ing of brotherhood with other assemblies of
orthodox Christians, than that with which
he was immediately connected, by holding
communion with them at convenient sea-
sons ; that in this respect, as the political
grounds of dissent were of very little value
in his esteem, he made no mental distino
tion between established and separate
churches : that, having no conscientious ob-
jection to kneeling at the sacrament, and
having resolved never to communicate even
occasionally but where he had reason to be-
lieve the bulk of those who partook of the
sacrament were real Christians, he felt no
hesitation as to the propriety, while he
could speak decidedly as to the comfort, of
the course he had pursued. He stated,
further, that with Richard Baxter he " dis-
owned the principle of many who think their
presence maketh them guilty of all that is
faulty in the public worship and ministra-
tion : for this dissolveth all worshiping
churches on earth, without exception ;" that
he considered Baxter's Refutation of Dr.
Owen's arguments against occasional com-
munion as complete : and that he would
rather err in the spirit of Baxter and Howe,
on such a question, than be right according
to the narrow measures by which too many
would enforce a contrary practice. Mr.
Hall's reply, which is subjoined, exempli-

' Nearly at lliis tiiiio, also, viz. in .Sepleiiiber, IS17, lli«
faculty nf Mariscli:il Collei;f-, Abentreii, at the in.-Jtaiice
oftlieii" late leanieil principal, Ur. W. I.. Brown, confer-
red upon Mr. Hall the deirrei^ of D. 1)., in lesliinony of
their liiiih admiration of his talents and character. Ife
felt murli gratified by this mark of their good opinion ;
but, having a conscientious objection to the title of doc-
tor of divinity, lie never adopted it.

26B

MEMOIR OP ROBERT HALL,

fies his usual manner of guarding against a
misapprehension of the real extent of his
agreement with another upon any disputed
point.

« March, 6, 1818.
"My DfiAH Frie]»d,

" I am much obliged to you for the frank-
ness with which you have answered my
inqitiries. Perhaps I may not be quite |
prepared to go with you the full extent of |
your moderation; though on this I have by i
no means made up my niind. I admire tliei
spirit with which you are actuated, and es-
teem you more than ever for the part you
have acted. I perfectly agree with you
that the old grounds of dissent are the true
ones, and that our recent apologists have
mixed up to much of a political cast in their
reasonings upon this subject. Though I
chould depreciate the founding of ci/)uj es-
tablished church, in the popular sense of
that term, I think it very injudicious to la}'
tliatas the corner-stone of dissent. We have
much stronger ground in the specijic cor-
ruptions of the Church of England, ground
which our pious ancestors occupied, and
which may safely defy every attempt of the
most powerful and acute minds to subvert.
With respect to occasional conformity, I by
no means think it involves an abandonment
of dissent; and I am inclined to think that,
were I in a private station (not a minister,
I mean,) I should, under certain circuni-
Btances, and in certain situations, be dispos-
ed to practise it ; though nothing would in-
duce me to acknowledge myself a perma-
nent member of tlie Church of England.

" In regard to episcopacy, it appears to
me entirely a human, though certainly a
very early invention. It was unknown, I
believe, in the apostolical times ; with the
exception, probably, of the latter part of
John's time. But, as it was practised in the
second and third centuries, I should have no
conscientious objection to it. As it subsists
at present among us, I am sorry to say I
can scarcely conceive a greater [abuse.]
It subverts equally the rights of pastors and
of people, and is nothing less than one of
the worst relics of the papal hierarchy.
Were every thing else what it ought to be
in the established church, prelacy, as it now
subsists, would make me a decided dissent-

•' I remain, my dear sir, with great esteem,
" Yours most aflectionately,
" R. Hall." .

Mr. Hall's engagement lor the press, nu-
merous and heavy as they were to one who
wrote with so much difficulty and pain, did
not draw him aside from pastoral watchtul-
ness over his church and congregation ;
nor were they permitted to shorten those

hours of retirement in which he sought
"converse with God." Nothing, on the
contrary, was more evident tlian his in-
creased spirit of devotion as he advanced
in Hfe. About the year 1812, he commenc-
ed the practice of setting apart one day in
a month for especial prayer and fasting.
On these occasions he retired into his study
immediately after the morning domesti-c
worship, and remained there until the eve-
ning. Finding this eminently conducive to
his own comfort, at the end of about two
years he recommended the church to hold
quarterly fasts. They at once adopted the
recommendation ; and some of the mem-
bers often speak of the first meeting for this
purpose as a most extraordinary season of
devout and solemn feeling.

About the same time, or somewhat earli-
er, he announced his opinion of the disad-
vantage arising from the presence of others
besides the communicants on sacramental
occasions. In a short address he explain-
ed the customs of the early Christians with
regard to the Lord's Supper, and showed
that the admission of spectators who were
not members of the church during the cele-
bration was comparatively a modern inno-
vation. He pointed out the inconclusive-
ness of the ordinary arguments, that spec-
tators often receive benefit from the address-
es of the ministers, and that therefore therr
exclusion was cutting them offfrom good, and
that such exclusion was an infringement of
religious liberty. He also stated that the
presence of such spectators deprived him of
much comfort during the communion service,
and that he should regard their keeping away
as a personal kindness to himself His ad-
dress was received with afi'ectionate re-
spect; and from that time, those who had
previously remained to witness the admin-
istration discontinued the custom.

Some time after the conclusion of his part
of the controversy on " Terms of Commun-
ion," he made an effort to persuade (he
church at Harvey-lane to adopt the practice
of " mixed communion ;" but finding that it
would disturb the peace which had so long
subsisted in the society, he relinquished his
intention, and recommended the formation
of a distinct church on the mixed commun-
ion principle, its sacramental service being
held on the morning of the same Sabbath
on which the "strict communion" church
held its corresponding service in the after-
noon. This plan was adopted and followed
during Mr. Hall's continuance at Leicester,
without causing any interruption of the
harmony which prevailed among the dif-
ferent classes of worshipers.

In the year 1823, the minister of a Uni-
tarian congregation at Leicester, having
delivered a series of what are usually de-
nominated " challenge lectures," in delence

MEMOIR OP ROBERT HALL.

269

of his own opinions, to hear which individ-
uals of other persuasions were pubhcly in-
vited, Mr. Hall felt it to be his duty to offer
a timely antidote to the evil. He therefore
preached twelve lectures on the points at
issue, and had the happiness to know that
they were serviceable in checking the dif-
fusion of Socinian error. He was strongly
urged by several members of his congre-
gation, and by various neighboring minis-
ters, to publish the whole ; but uniformly
replied, that though he believed they had
been beneficial, he was conscious they con-
tained nothing that could be regarded as
really new in the controversy ; and that Dr.
Wardlaw had so admirably occupied the
ground in his sermons, already before the
public, that any thing which he could offer
in print would only be regarded as an imper-
tinent intrusion.

Throughout the whole of Mr. Hall's res-
idence at Leicester, he suffered much from
his constitutional complaint ; and neither
his habit of smoking, nor that of taking
laudanum,* seemed effectually to elleviate
his sufferings. It was truly surprising that
this constant severe pain, and the means
adopted to mitigate it, did not in any meas-
ure diminish his mental energy. A little
difference was, perhaps, discernible in the
vivacity of his conversation ; but his preach-
ing had, as yet. lost nothing of its force.
In letters to his friends he expressed a hope
that " a greater savor of Jesus Christ ac-
compianed his ministry ;" and remarked,
that "his strain of preaching was much
less elegant, but more intended for instruc-
tion, for awakening conviction, and carry-
ing home truth with power to the heart."
And thus it was found, that, as he advanc-
ed in years, though there might be a little
less of elaboration and polish, there was
more of spiritual feeling, more of tender and
earnest expostulation, and of that pungen-
cy of application to the heart and con-
science, which resulted from an enlarged
acquaintance with human character, and a
deeper knowledge of " the things of God."
That the Divine blessing accompanied
these labors, and in many cases rendered
the impression permanent, the history of the
church and congregation abundantly proves.

The death of Dr. Ryland in 1S25 led to
Mr. Hall's invitation to take the pastoral
office over the church at Broadmead, Bris-
tol, an office which had been long and hon-
orably sustained by that excellent individu-
al. After some months spent in anxious
deliberation, in advising with his friends,
and seeking counsel from above, fi-om the
dread he felt lest he " should rush into a
sphere of action to which he was not called,

* In 1812 he took from fifty to one hundred drops eve-
ry night. Before 1S26 the quantity had increased (oone
thousand drops.

and offend God by deserting his proper
post," he at length decided to dissolve hrs
long and happy connection with the church
at Leicester. The day of separation, the
last sacrainent Sabbath, March 26, 1826,
was a day of anguish to him and them, of
which I shall not attempt the description.
Suffice it to say, that he went through the
ordinary public duties of the day with toler-
able composure ;* but at the sacramental
service he strove in vain to conceal his
emotion. In one of his addresses to the
members of the church, on adverting to the;
pain of separation, he was so much affect-
ed that he sat down, covered his face with
his hands, and wept ; they, sharing in his
distress, gave unequivocal signs of the
deepest feeling. Mr. Eustace Carey, who
was present, continued the devotional part
of the service, until Mr. Hall was sufficient-
ly recovered to proceed. At the close of
the solemnity the weeping became again
universal, and they parted " sorrowing most
of all that they should see his face no
more."

Very shortly afterward the church receiv-
ed from Mr. Hall the following letter of re-
signation.

"to the church op CHRIST MEETING IN
HARVEY-LANE, LEICESTER.

" 3d April, 1826.

"My DEAR Brethren and Sisters,

"I take this opportunity of solemnly and
affectionately resigning the pastoral charge
which I have long sustained among you,
and of expressing, at the same time, the
deep sense I shall ever retain of the marks
of affection and esteem with which, both
collectively and individually, you have hon-
ored me.

" Though the providence of God, has as I
conceive, called me to labor in another part
of his vineyard, my solicitude for your spir-
itual welfare will ever remain unimpaired,
nor will any thing give me more joy than
to hear of your growth in grace, peace, and
prosperity. My prayer will never cease to
ascend to the God of all comfort, that he
will establish your hearts in love, unite you
more and more in the fellowship of saints,
and make you fruitful in every good work.

" Let me earnestly entreat you to guard
most anxiously against whatever may tend
to weaken your union, diminish your affec-
tion, or imbitter your spirits against each
other. ' Let brotherly love continue :'
' seek peace and pursue it 5' and ' may the
God of^ peace, who brought again from the

■ In order that neither his feelings nor lliose of the
congregation might be too severely tried during the pub-
he services, he preached two sermons fortlie Baptist
Mission: that in the morning from Ephes. iii. 8, "Unto
me, who am less than the least of all saints, is this
grace given, that I should preach among the gentiles the
unsearchable riches of Christ ;"that in the evening from
Matt, vl. 10, "Thy kingdom come."

270

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

dead the Lord Jesus Christ, that great
Shepherd of the sheep, stublish, strengthen,
settle, and make you perfect.'

" I hope that, in the choice of a .succes-
sor, you will earnestly and anxioufily seek
Divine direction ; prefer the useful to the
splendid; the solid to the glittering and
showy ; and be supplied with a pastor who
will, in doctrine, exhibit • uncorruptness,
gravity, sincerity, and sound speech which
cannot be condemned.' and be in manner
and behavior a pattern to believer.s.

■' Permit me. on this occasion, to return
you my sincere acknowledgments for the
uniform kindness with which you have

he had suffered so much and so long. It
had become, as his esteemed friend Mr.
Addington termed it, "an internal appara-
tus of torture;" yet, such was the peculiar
structure of his mind, doubtless ibrfified
and prepared lor patient endurance by an
energy imparted from al)ove, that though
his appointment by day and by night was
incessant pain, yet high enjoyment was, not-
withstanding, the law of his existence.

Between his final removal to Bristol and
his death, he visited his friends at (Jam-
bridge twice, namely, in 1827 and ]Si!9.
These visits were undertaken with the sense
of responsibility of one who had formerly
treated me, the respectful attention j'ou [been their pastor: and he made it a rule so
have paid to my ministry, and the candor i to arrange his time while there as to see,
with which you have borne my infirmities, converse with, and exhort every member of

" With my most earnest prayers for your
spiritual and eternal welfare, I remain,
" My dear brethren and sisters,
" Your obliged and ati'ectionate friend
and brother,
" Robert Hall."

the church, and a great proportion of the
congregation. He )iaid also one visit to
his recently-quitted fiock at Leicester ; and
I two to his friends in London. On these oc-
jcasions the anxiety to hear him preach was
las great as it had ever been ; while his ser-
imons were characterized in a high degree
Mr. Hall was in his sixty-second year i by the qualities that had long distinguished
when he removed to Bristol, the scene of j them, with the addition ol" a stronger man-
his first continuous labors, and now to be- ifestation of religious and benevolent affec-
come the scene of his closing ministry. 'tions, a still more touciiing persuasiveness
Someof the friends of his early life still sur- 1 of manner, continued with an increasing
vived to welcome hie return among them ; intensity of feeling, with deeper and deep-
and many others, who had profited by his er solemnity of appeal : the entire effect
pulpit exertions on his periodical visits to ! being greatly augmented by the sudden in-
Bristolj congratulated themselves that he to troduction, just as the last sentence seemed
whom, under God, they owed so much had I dropping from his lips, of some new topic
become their pastor. All thing.s, indeed 'of application or of caution, most urgently
except his infirm state of health, seemed loi pressed; as though he could not cease to
conspire in promoting his own happiness as I invite, to warn, to expostulate, until the
well as the prosperity of the church with /"Great Master of assemblies" vouchsafed
which he had again connected himself. to him the assurance that he had not been

The church and congregation soon re- pleading his cause in vain,
ceived numerous accessions. In writing to Mr. Hall's increasing infirmities did not
a friend, early in 1829, he says, "I continue | extinguish his literarj'- ardor, or abate his
to be very happy with my people, from love of reading. Except during the first

whom I daily receive every demonstration
of affection and respect. Our attendance
is as good as I could wish ; and we have
added to the Baptist church, during the
last year, twenty-seven, and six are stand-
ing candidates ibr baptism. For these to-
kens of the Divine presence I desire to be
thankful."

His heavenly Father, during the conclud-
ing years of his life, made a rich provision
for his social enjoyments, both in his family
and among his friends. Besides the com-
fort of frequent associations with many of
his own flock, his pleasures were greatly
heightened by intercour.se with Mr. Foster,
and the tutors of the Baptist Academy, as
well as with several clergymen and other
ministers and laymen, residing in Bristol
and its vicinity. It is true, that wherev-
er he went, or in whatever he engaged, he
carried with him the complaint from which

years of his residence at Cambridge, read-
ing, and the thinking it called forth, were
his incessant occupation to the very close
of life; and both the pursuit and its appli-
cation to the benefit of others yielded him
the highest dehght. In his early life, as I
have already mentioned, it was common
with him to carry on five or six different
courses of study simultaneously. But for
the last ten or twelve years, he mostly con-
fined himself to one book at a time, and
read it to the end. His reading continued
to be very extensive and varied (tor it was
his decided opinion that every species of
knowledge might be rendered subservient
to religion,) but his predilection, next to the
scriptures, was tor works of clear, strong,
and conclusive reasoning, though convey-
ed in language far from elevated, and
sometimes perhaps obscure. Thus he, for
full sixty years, read Jonathan Edward's

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

271

writings with undiminished pleasure. And
of Chillingworth's "Religion of Protes-
tants" he has often been known to say, " It
is just like reading a novel :" which, indeed,
was his usual expression of commendation
with regard to such works of a dry or ab-
stract nature as discovered subtilty, depth,
or vigor of thought. In this class he plac-
ed the works of Jeremy Bentham, for whom
he entertained the highest estimation, as an
original, profound, and accurate thinker ;
observing often, that in the particular prov-
ince of his speculations, the science of leg-
islation, he had advanced to the limits of
reason ; and that if he were compelled to
legislate for the world upon uninspired prin-
ciples, "he should take Bentham, and go
from state to state with as firm a step as
though he walked upon a pavement of ad-
amant."*

If, at any time, he could not settle a point
of interest without studying a language of
which he was ignorant, that constituted no
impediment. Shortly before he quitted
Leicester, a friend found him one morning,
very early, lying on the carpet, with an
Italian dictionary and a volume of Dante
before him. Being about to quit the room,
he said, " No, sir, don't go. 1 will tell you
what I have been about for some weeks.
A short time since I was greatly delighted
with a parallel between the Paradise Lost
and the Divine Comedy of Dante which I
read in the Edinburgh Review. But in
matters of taste, as well as others, I always
like to judge for myself; and so I have been
studying Italian. I have caught the idiom,
and am reading Dante with great relish ;
though I cannot yet say, with Milton,

" ' Now my (ask is smoollily done,
I can fly nr I can nin.' "

It may seem somewhat out of place, yet I
shall be forgiven if I here insert an extract
of a letter just received from Mr. Ryley
one of Mr. Hall's most intelligent Leices-
ter friends, in reference to his course of
reading there.

" It was what some men might think de-
sultory ; but it was essentially a constant
habit of grappling with the strong. Belles
Lettreshe did not altogether neglect, though
he iield the average of such literature in
small estimation. Poetry he seldom read,
nor did he seem to me to have even studied
it con amore. He thought Gray's Elegy
the finest thine ever written. Milton was
his favorite. There was something pecu
liar in his habits respecting poetry. He
spoke slightly of poets, with few exceptions,
and those few by no means what might
have been expected irom his own highly

lie always rproiiinieniU'd tliosn who were likely to
bo oflTendeil willi tljo slranu'enoss of liiTilliam'.-: sivlc to
stii.ly his prluciplrs lliroimh lh(? mc-diuin <il' liis clciianl
French coniiiniit.ilor M. Dmnonl.

imaginative cast of mind. Yet, when he
did get hold of an exquisite poem, he would
read it with intense attention, apparently
with the deepest interest, and then abuse
it. With the exception of Milton, who is,
in fact, an antique, he preferred the ancient
to the modern poets. Of the poetry of our
own day, he spoke with a contempt which
an accurate or extensive acquaintance with
it would have compelled him to relinquish.
He had not, I think, made history a distinct
and consecutive study, though he had read
many of the original historians. He seem-
ed to feel this of late years, and gave much
of his time to the subject."

His enjoyment of the writings of the il-
lustrious men of Greece and Rome remain-
ed unimpaired to the last. Plato, Aristotle,
and Cicero suggested to him many noble
arguments in favor of an internal spring of
morality, which he employed with his wont-
ed skill in support of the rehgion of pure
motive and devotedness of spirit. Virgil's
Georgics he characterized as the most fin-
ished of human compositions ; and he con-
tinued to prefer Virgil to Homer. He
greatly admired the copiousness, grace, and
harmony of Cicero's diction ; but consider-
ed Demosthenes by far the most powerful
orator the world had known; and after
speaking with fervid applause of the ora-
tion Tc/Jt ^TCipavoVj added, that he thought it
impossible for a man of soul and feeling to
read a single page without catching fire.
Only a few months before his last illness, in
classifying the difll'erent natures and respec-
tive effects of the eloquence of reason, of
passion, and of imagination, he selected hi.s
principal illustrations from Demosthenes,
and endeavored to show that Avhere the
two former kinds of eloquence existed in
due proportion, the third was of very mi-
nor consequence. Tiie individual to whom
he made these remarks was struck, as he
proceeded, with the development whicii
they supplied of the causes of the deep im-
pression made by his own pulpit addresses ;
and imputed his more sparing use of image-
ry in later years, rather to the deliberate
conviction of his mind, than to any diminu-
tion of the imaginative faculty.

But I nuist restrain myself, and pass to
Mr. Hall's every-day habits after his return
to Bristol. The course of his life at home,
when not interrupted by visitors, was very
uniform. He generally rose and took his
breakfast about nine o'clock. Breakfast
was immediately succeeded by family wor-
ship. At this exercise he went regularly
through the scriptures, reading a portion
of the Old Testament in the morm'ng, and
of the New Testament in the evening. On
Sunday morning he almost invariably
read the ninety-second Psalm, beitiir ^hort.
and appropriate to the day. lie al o read

272

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

in his family the translation of the four Gos-
pels by Campbell, whom he particularly ad-
mired, and often recommended, as an ac-
curate translator, and a critic of great
acutenesa, taste, and judgment. He sel-
dom made any remarks on the portion of
scripture, except when strangers were
present, who, he knew, would be disap-
pointed at their entire omission. He re-
garded himself as very incompetent to ren-
der this brief kind of exposition instructive.
In the prayer tiiat succeeded, he was not in
the babit of forming his petitions on the
passage of scripture just read, though the
prayer was usually of considerable length,
and very minute in its appropriation. He
adverted specifically to all the persons be-
longing to his family present and absent :
never forgot the people of his care ; and
dwelt on the distinct cases of members of
the church that were under any kind of tri-
al or affliction.

After breakfast and worship, he retired
into hie study, and uniformly spent some
time in devotion, afterward generally read-
ing a portion of the Hebrew Bible. For
the last two years, he read daily two chap
ters of Matthew Henry's Commentary. As
he proceeded he felt increasing interest
and pleasure ; admiring the copiousness,
variety, and pious ingenuity of the thoughts,
the simplicity, strength, and pregnancy of
the expressions. He earnestly recommend-
ed this commentary to his daughters ; and
on hearing the eldest reading, tor success-
ive mornings, to the second, he expressed
the highest delight. The remainder of the
morning until dinner, about three o'clock,
was spent in reading some work of learn-
ing or of severe thought. After dinner he
generally retired to his study, and, if not in
60 much pain as to prevent it, slept for
eome time.

On Tuesday evenings were held what
are termed " the conferences," in the vestry
of the Broadmead chapel : they are meet-
ings ordinarily attended by about two hun-
dred persons, at which two of the students
belonging to ihe Bristol Education Socie-
ty, or one of the students and the president,
speak on a passage of scripture previously
Helected for the purpose. Mr. Hall always
attended on these occasions, and conclud-
ed by speaking for about a quarter of an
hour, on the subject of the preceding ad-
dresses. He also attended the prayer-
meetings, in the same place, on Thursday
evenings ; except once a montii, namely, on
the Thursday previous to the administra-
tion of the Lord's Supper, when he preach-
ed.

The other evenings in the week, except
Saturday (and that, indeed, not always ex-
cepted,) he usually ppent at the house of
oxu) or otlier of his congregation, with a

very few friends, who were invited to meet
him. His inability to walk having greatly
increased, his friends generally sent a car-
riage for him about six o'clock, and convey-
ed him back about ten.

It is difficult to say whether he had great-
er fondness for retirement or for company.
It displeased him if, especially by sudden
interruptions, he was obliged to give up
his morning hours of study to visitors ; and
it would commonly have been a disappoint-
ment, if he had not the opportunity of spend-
ing hie evenings in society. If he were, at
any time, thrown among persons of distin-
guished talents and attainments, and their
general character pleased him, it was soon
shown how truth and knowledge might be
educed by the operation of intellect upon
intellect, and how rich a field of instruction
and delight would thus be open for the gen-
eral enjoyment of the party. Usually,
however, his choice turned simply upon the
prerequisite of piety; he sought for no
other acquisitions in his associates from the
graces of the Spirit ; intelligence added to
the enjoyment, but was not essential to it.
The society of old friends had with him an
exquisite charm, which was greatly height-
ened if their fathers had been known and
esteemed by him or his father, such inter-
course, requiring no eli'ort, gave full scope
to his affections, without disturbing his men-
tal repose. He uniformly retired from
these evening parties full of grateful refer-
ences to the pleasure which he had felt. If
any of his family who accompanied him
happened to say that the evening had been
dull, he would reply, " I don't think so. It
was very pleasant. I enjoyed it. I enjoy
every thing." Considering the continuity
of his Eutferings, how touching a commen-
tary is this upon the inspired aphorism,
" the good man shall be satisfied from him-
self!"

Mr. Hall commonly retired to rest a little
before eleven o'cIock ; but after his first
sleep, which lasted about two hours, he
quitted his bed to obtain an easier position
on the floor, or upon three chairs ; and
would then employ himself in reading the
book on which he had been engaged dur-
ing the day. Sometimes, indeed often, the
laudanum, large as the doses had become,
did not sufficiently neutrahze his pain to
remove the necessity for again quitting hia
bed.* In these cases he would again put
on the dress prepared to keep him ade-
quately warm, and resume his reading.
On Sunday mornings, as soon as he awoke
it was usual with him to say. " This is the
Lord's day. This is the day the Lord hath

■ For iiiorf Iti;iri Ivvt-iity yp.irs lie had nol been alile 10
passa wliole nielli in be<). Whpn lliis is borne in mind,
it is truly snrprisin;; that lie wroto and published so
imich ; nay, tJiat he did not sink into dotage before he
was fitly years of age.

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

273

made; let us rejoice and be glad in it."
And he often impressed it on his family that
they ought "not to think their own thoughts,"
or " to find their own pleasure," on that day.

He did not pursue any plan of training or
of discipline with his children. He was re-
remarkably affectionate and indulgent ; but
he did nothing systematically to correct de-
fects, to guide or excite their minds. Now
and then he recommended his daughters to
read some particular book ; one, perhaps,
that he had himself read with peculiar sat-
isfaction : but beyond this there do not ap-
pear to have been any direct, specific en-
deavors to impart knowledge, or in any
uniform manner to inculcate religious prin-
ciples.

When, however, any of his children were
about to quit home for a short time, it was
his practice to summon them to his study,
exhort them, and pray with them. One of
his daughters, on writing to a friend after
his death, says, "Well I remember that
when I was a child, on leaving home for a
few days, or on going te school, he would
call me into the study, give me the tender-
est advice, make me to kneel down by him
at the same chair, and then, both bathed in
tears, would he fervently supplicate the Di-
vine protection for me. This, I believe, he
did with regard to all of us on leaving
home, while young." Their minds were
also often deeply impressed by hearing him,
as they passed his study door, commending
them, by name, with the utmost fervency,
to God, and entreating those blessings for
each which, in his judgment, each most
needed.*

Periodical private fasts, such as those
■which be observed at Leicester, he contin-
ued to observe at Bristol, making them
seasons of extraordinary self-examination,
prayer, and renewed dedication to God.
He was not in the habit of keeping a reg-
ular journal, nor, generally speaking, did he
approve of it, from a persuasion that it
tempted to an artificial tone of expression
which did not accord with the actual state
of the heart. But on some solemn occa-
sions he made a short note in one of his
memorandum books, containing hints of
texts, &.C.

Thus: "New-year's day, January 1st,
1826. I have begun the year with a sin-
cere resolution, in the strength of Divine
grace, to devote myself wholly and entirely
to God : but, knowing my extreme weak-
ness and corruption, I dare place no de-
pendence whatever on my own resolutions.
I have, on many occasions, found them un-
^table as water. I can only cast myself on

■ Hislidbit or (iiMl, audible, |)i-ivale prayer rested upon
the conyiclion that silent prayer was apt to degenerate
into ineililation, while, from our compound nature, a man
cannot but be affected by the sound of his own voice,
when adequately exprcesiog what is reall? felt.

Vol. 3.— Ii.

the mercy of my God, and cry with the
Psalmist, ' Hold thou nie up, and I shall be
safe.' O Thou most holy and merciful
Lord God, I beseech Thee to take up thine
abode in my heart, and shape me entirely
anew. Amen. Amen,"

Again, on his birth-day, 1828. " This
day I commence my 64th [65th] year.
What reason have I to look with shame
and humiliation on so long a tract of years
spent to so little purpose! Alas! I am
ashamed of my barrenness and unprofita-
bleness. Assist me, O Lord, by Thy grace,
that I may spend the short residue of my
days in a more entire devotion to Thy ser-
vice. It is my purpose, in the strength of
Divine grace, to take a more minute inspec-
tion into the state of my heart, and the ten-
or of my actions, and to make such obser-
vations and memorandums as circumstan-
ces may suggest. But to Thee, O Lord,
do I look for all spiritual strength, to keep
Thy way, and do Thy will."

JVlr. Hall still evinced a peculiar solici-
tude for the welfare of the poorer members
of his flock, and greatly lamented his inca-
pacity, from the loss of locomotive energy
to seek them out in their own habitations,
and associate with them frequently, as he
had done with the poor at Cambrige and
Leicester. He publicly expressed his con-
cern that some plan was not arranged for
his meeting them in small parties at specifi-
ed times, and assured them of the cordial
readiness with which his part of such a plan
should be executed. This, I believe, was
not accomplished.

The indications of infirm age now rapid-
ly exhibited themselves, but happily, were
unaccompanied by a decaying mind or a
querulous spirit. The language of his con-
duct and of his heart corresponded with that
of the pious ancient, " Lord, give me pa-
tience now, and ease hereafter!" If tem-
pests come they will not last long, but soon
will be hushed into an eternal calm.

His inability to take exercise, on account
of the gradual increase of his complaint,
gave rise, about six years before his death,
to another disorder, formidable in its nature
and fatal in its issue. The indications of a
plethoric habit became more and more ap-
parent. " Tiius," adopting the language
of Mr. Addington, " the system of the blood-
vessels had a laborious duty to perform in
circulating their fluid, which, for want of
the full aid of muscular exertion, could not
be equally distributed. The smaller ones
on the surface of the body, and in the ex-
tremities, never appeared to derive a suffi-
cient quantity of blood to furnish the usual
proportion of animal heat, while the large
trunks in the interior became overloaded.
The natural consequence was, that the
heart, on whose power the propulsion of

274

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

the blood to the extremities depends, being
over stimulated and oppressed by the con-
dition of the large vessels, bacame weak-
ened ; and, occasionally failing in the reg-
ular and equable transmission of the blood,
would produce a sensation of distress in the
region of the chest." The malady, thus
produced, becoming more and more severe.
Mr. Hall, when in London in 1828. was
persuaded by his friends to take the advice
of an eminent physician : from which how-
ever, no permanent good resulted. By the
summer of 1830, the disorder had increased
so seriously that his medical friends at Bris-
tol recommended a suspension of his pasto-
ral duties for a few weeks, that he might
try the effect of a total change of air and
scene.

He therefore spent some time at Cole-
ford, in the forest of Dean, in the society of
his old and valued friend the Rev. Isaiah
Birt. He also spent a few weeks at Chel-
tenham. At both these places he preached
with his accustomed talent; and his gener-
al appearance, too clearly indicating that
the close of his ministerial labors was at
hand, gave a deeper impression to his in-
structions and exhortations. When absent
from home he was in the habit of writing
to his children. My narrow limits have
prevented my giving extracts from any of
those letters ; but I am induced to insert
part of one, written at this time to his son,
who had been placed with a respectable
chymist and druggist at Bristol, in the hope
that it may be useful to other youths in
similar circumstances.

« mh October, 1830.

"My dear Robert,

" I have long designed to write to you,
that I might communicate to you some
hints of advice, which I could convey more
easily, and, perhaps, more affectually, than
by speaking.

" I need not lell yotr, my dear boy, how
solicitous I am for your welfare in both
worlds, and how often I have borne you on
my heart in my secret addresses to that
Father which is in heaven. But, alas ! the
prayers of parents for their children will
avail nothing, if they are not induced to
pray for themselves, 'for every one must
give an account oi" him self to God.' I hope
my dear child, you do not live in the entire
neglect of this most important duty : let me
entreat yon to attend to ii constantly, and
never to begin or end a day without it.
Daily entreat the pardon of your sins, for
the sake of the Redeemer, and earnestly
implore the assistance of his grace, to en-
able you to resist temptation, and to live in
such a manner as shall prepare you for a
blessed immortality. Pray do not neglect,
at the same time to read a portion, longer

or shorter, of the Word of God. ' Where-
with shall a young man cleanse his ways,
but by taking heed thereto according to thy
Word?'

" I hope, my dear Robert, you will con-
tinue in your present situation. On the
supposition of your doing so (and I can do
nothing better for you,) let me entreat you
to make it your constant care to conciliate

the esteem of Mr. C , which you will

certainly do, if you cheerfully comply with
his orders, and make his interest your own.
Nothing injures the character of a young
man more than restlessness and fickleness ;
nothing, on the contrary, secures his credit
and comfort like a steady and persevering
attention to the duties of his station. Eve-
ry situation has its inconveniences and its
difficulties ; but time and perseverance will
surmount the one, and make you almost
insensible of the other. The consciousness
of having overcome difficulties, and combat-
ed trials successfully, will afford you, in the
issue, a far higher satisfaction than you can
ever hope to obtain by recoiling from them.

" Combat idleness in all its forms ; noth-
ing is so destructive as idle habits, nothing

so useful as habits of industry.

*******

"Never demean yourself by contending
about trifles ; yield in things of small mo-
ment to the inclinations and humors of your
companions. In a word, my dear boy,
make yourself amiable.

" Fear God and love your fellow-crea-
tures, and be assured you will find ' Wis-
dom's ways, ways of pleasantness, and her
paths, paths of peace.'

" To say all in one word, ' If you are
wise, my heart shall rejoice, even mine.'
"I am
" Your affectionate father,

"Robert Hall."

On Mr. Hall's return to Bristol towards
the end of October, hopes were entertained
that his health was improved, and his
strength recruited ; but they were only of
short duration. The spasmodic affection
of the chest occurred with increasing fre-
quency, and in a more alarming character.
In one instance, on the 1st of January, 1831,
the attack was so severe as to threaten im.-
mediate dissolution. It passed off. howev-
er, as former attacks had done, on taking
blood from the arm ; and soon afterward he
returned tospendtheremainder of the even-
ing with the friends whom he had left when
the paroxysm came on ; and in his usual
cheerful and happy spirit, took his ordinary
share, and evinced an undiminished inter-
est, in the conversation.

The morning of that day had been sig-
nalized by the extraordinary pathos which
he imparted to the religious services, at a

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL,

275

prayer-meeting, held, according to annual
custom, in the vestry at Broadmead. The
intensity of his devotional feelings, and the
fervor of his supplications in behalf of the
assembled congregation, as well as the
glowing affection and deep solemnity with
which he addressed them, as he reviewed
the past dispensations of Providence, and
anticipated some of the probable events of
the year now opening upon them, both in
relation to them and himself, excited the
strongest emotion, and, in connection with
the events that immediately followed, made
an indellible impression upon their minds :
nearly all his subsequent addresses, wheth-
er on the Sunday or the week-day evening
services, partook, more or less, of the same
pathetfc and solemnly anticipatory charac-
ter. One of the most impressive of these,
of which many of the congregation retain a
vivid recollection, was delivered on the
morning of Sunday, January, 16th. The
text from which he preached was, Deuter-
onomy xxxiii. 25 : " Thy shoes shall be iron
and brass ; and as thy days, so shall thy
strength be."

In this discourse he seemed to be prepar-
ing his people and himself for that event by
which they were to be deprived of their in-
valuable pastor, and he to be freed from an-
guish and sorrow : when his soul, liberated
from its chain, and clothed in the Redeem-
er's righteousness, was to go forth, "first
into liberty, then into glory."

A highly valued correspondent,* enables
me to present the following summary of
Mr. Hall's application or improvement;
which, from its occasion, as well as its ex-
cellence, cannot but be read with lively in-
terest.

" Improvement. 1. Take no thought, no
anxious, distressing, harrassing thought for
the morrow; suffer not your minds to be
torn asunder by doubt or apprehension.
Consider, rather, what is the present will of
God, and rest satisfied and content ; with-
out anticipating evils which may never ar-
rive.

" Do not heighten your present sorrows
by a morbid imagination. You know not
what a day may bring foith. The future
ia likely to be better than you expect, as
well as worse. The real victory of Chris-
tians arises from attention to present duty.
This carries them from strength to strength.

" Some are alarmed at the thought of
death ; they say. How shall I meet the ag-
onies of dissolution ! But when you are
called to die, you will, if among God's chil-
dren, recieve dying consolation, Be satis-
fied if you have the strength to live to God,
that God will support you when you come

• The R«v. Thomas Grinfield, A. M., of Clifton, near
Bneto!. '

to die. Some fear persecution, lest, at such
a season, they should ' make shipwreck of
faith and of a good conscience :' ' As thy
day is, such shall thy strength be.'

" 2. Consider to what it is we owe our
success. If we are nearer our salvation
than -when we believed, let us not ascribe it
to ourselves, to our own arm, but to the
grace of God : ' Not I, but the grace of
God with me,' enabling me to sustain, and
to conquer. If we continue, it is ' because
we have obtained help of God:' we are
^kept by his mighty power unto salvation.'
In all our sufferings, if Christians, we are
perpetually indebted to Divine succor.

" 3. Let us habitually look up to God, in
the exercise of faith and prayer. Instead
of yielding ourselves to dejection, let ua
plead the promises, and flee to the Divine
Word. He has been accustomed to sus-
tain the faithful : and He is ' the same yes-
terday, to-day, and for ever.' He is never
weary : look to Him : ' they that wait on
him shall mount up with eagles' wings ;
run, and not be weary ; walk, and not faint.'
Go to him in prayer, cling to His strength,
lay hold on His arm. You have a power-
ful Redeemer : ' be strong in the power of
His might! Draw down the succors of
His grace, which will enable you to go
on, 'from strength to strength,' until you
appear before God in Zion."

The last service at Broadmead in which
Mr. Hall took any part was the church
meeting (when only the members of the
church are assembled) on Wednesday the
9th of February. His closing prayer on
that occasion is spoken of as most spiritual
and elevated, exhibiting in its highest man-
ifestation, the peculiar union of humility,
benevolence, and fervor, by which his de-
votional exercises had very long been char-
acterized.

On the next evening, Thursday, the usu-
al monthly sermon preparatory to the ad-
ministration of the Lord's Supper was to
have been delivered ; but Mr. Hall's dis-
charge of this duty was prevented by a se-
vere attack of the complaint in his chest,
which came on just after he had retired to
his study to prepare for that service. This
was the commencement of the series of
paroxysms which terminated in his dissolu-
tion.

" Early on the Sunday morning (I again
quote one of the letters of my esteemed
friend Mr. Addington) being requested to
see him, I found him in a condition of ex-
treme suffering and distress. The pain in
his back had been uncommonly severe dur-
ing the whole night, and compelled him to
multiply, at very short intervals, the doses of
his anodyne, until he had taken no less than
125 grains of solid opium, equal to more
than 3,000 drops, or nearly four ounces, of

276

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL

laudanum ! This was the only instance in
whicli I had ever seen him at all overcome
by the soporific quality of the medicine ;
and it was, even then, hard to determine
whether the effect was owing so much to
the quantity administered as to the unusual
circumstance of its not having proved, even
for a short time, an effectuaF antagonist to
the pain it was expected to relieve.

^ Inured as he was to the endurance of
pain, and unaccustomed to any strong ex-
pression of complaint, he was forced to con-
fess that his present agony was unparallel-
ed by any thing in his former experience.
The opium having failed to assuage his
pain, he was compelled to remain in the
horizontal posture ; but while in this situa-
tion, a violent attack in his chest took place
which in its turn rendered an upright posi-
tion O'f the body no less indispensible. The
struggle tlvat ensued between these oppos-
ing and alike urgent demands became most
appalling, and it was dilficult to imagine
that he could survive it ; especially, as from
the extreme prostration of vital energy, the
remedy by which the latter of those affec-
tions had often been mitigated, viz. bleed-
ing, could not be resorted to. Powerful
stimulants, such as brandy, opium, ether,
and ammonia, were the only resources ; and,
in about an hour from my arrival, we had
the satisfaction of finding him greatly re-
lieved and expressing his hvely gratitude
to God.

" The whole of his demeanor throughout
this agonizing crisis, as well as during
the remainder of the day, a day of much
suffering, exhibited, in a striking degree,
the efficacy of Christian faith and hope, in
supporting and tranquilizing the mind of
their possessor, in a season of extreme and
torturing affliction. His language abound-
ed with expressions at once of the deepest
humility and of thankfulness to God for his
'unspeakable mercies,' together with affec-
tionate acknowledgments of the care and
assiduities of his family and the friends
around him."

From this time the paroxysms increased
rapidly both in frequency and severity ; and
Mr. Hall, in the intervals between their oc-
currence, was usually so weak and exhaust-
ed as seldom to be able to converse with
those around him. His expressions howev-
er, insulated and broken as they often were,
proved that he was able fully to exercise
that trust in God which is the grand princi-
ple of religion, and that thus trusting in liim,
his soul was kept in peace.' No murmuring.
no language oi irritability escaped from his
lips.

It is not my intention to dwell upon the
melancholy detail of the ten days previous
to his death. I will only record a few such
expressions as serve to show that, acute as

were his sufferings, God left him not with''
out support.

Thus, when he first announced his ap-
prehension that he should never again min-
ister among his people, he immediately ad-
ded, " But I am in God's hands, and I re-
joice that I am. I am God's creature, at
his disposal, for life or death ; and tliat is a
great mercy."

Again, " I have not one anxious thought,
either for life or death. What 1 dread most
are dark days. But I have had none yet :
and I hope I shall not have any."

Again, " I tear pain more than death. If
I could die easily, I think I would rather go-
than stay ; for I have seen enough of the
world, and I have an humble hope.'^

On another occasion, a friend havfng said
to him, ' This God will be our God,' he re-
plied, "■ Yes, he will, he will be our guide
even unto death."

On recovering from one of his severe
paroxysms, he adverted to the affectionate
attentions of his beloved wife and daughters,
as well as his numerous comforts, and ex-
claimed, " What a mercy }t is to have so
many alleviations ! I might have been de-
prived of all these comforts ; I might have
been in poverty ; I might have been the most
abject wretch on the face of the earth."

During one night, in which the attacks
were a little mitigated in number and sever-
ity, he frequently expressed the most lively
gratitude to God, as well as his simple, un-
shaken reliance on his Saviour ; and repeat-
ed nearly the whole of Robinson's beauti-
ful hymn.

" Come, thou Fount of every blessing!
Tune my heart to sins thy grace ;
Streams of mercy never ceasins
Call for songs of endless praise !" &c.

The same night, under one of the parox-
ysms, he said to the friend who was with
him, " Why should a living man complain ?
a man for the punishment of his sins ? I
have not complained, have I, sir? and I
won't complain."

When Dr. Prichard was invited to join
Mr. Chandler and Mr. Addington in con-
sultation, on his arrival Mr. Hall arose and
received him so much in his wonted cordial,
courteous manner, as, at the first moment,
almost to check the apprehension of danger.
On the evening of the same day, he expa-
tiated on the mercy of God in bringing him
to close his life at Bristol.

His prevailing kindness was evinced
throughout, in his solitude for the comfort
of those who sat up with him at night, or
who remained in the house to be called to
his assistance if necessary. He also exhort-
ed the members of his "family, and others
occasionally present, to make religion the
chief, the incessant concern ; urging espe-
cially upon some of the young among his

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL.

27T

friends the duly of openly professing their
attachment to Christ and his cause.

When he was a httle recovered from one
of his severe paroxysms, " I asked him,"
says Mr. Chandler, " whether he felt much
pain. He replied that his sufferings were
great : ' but what,' he added, ' are my suf-
ferings to the sufierings of Christ? his suf-
ferings were infinitely greater: his suffer-
ings were complicated : God has been very
merciful to me — very merciful : lam a poor
creature — an unworthy creature ; but God
has been very kind — very merciful.' He
then alluded to the character of the suffer-
ing of crucifixion, remarking how intense
and insufferable they must have been, and
asked many minute questions on what I
might suppose was the process by which
crucifixion brought about death. He par-
ticularly inquired respecting the effect of
pain ; the nervous irritation ; the thirst ; the
oppression of breathing ; the disturbance of
the circulation ; and the hurried action of
the heart, till the conversation gradually
brought him to a consideration of his own
distress ; when he again reverted to the
lightness of his sufferings when contrasted
with those of Christ. He spoke of our
Lord's ' enduring the contradiction of sin-
ners against himself ;' of the ingratitude
and unkindness he received from those for
whom he went about doing good ; of the
combination of the mental and corporeal ag-
onies sustained on the cross ; the length of
time during which our Lord hung; the ex-
haustion occasioned, &c. He then remarked
how differently he had been situated ; that
though he had endured as much or more than
fell to the lot of most men, yet all had been in
mercy. I here remarked to him, that with
most persons the days of ease and comfort
were far more numerous than those of pain
and sorrow. He replied, ' But I have been
a great sufferer in my time ; it is, however,
generally true : the dispensations of God
have been merciful to me.' He then ob-
served, that a contemplation of the suffer-
ings of Christ was the best antidote against
impatience under any troubles we might ex-
perience ; and recommended me to reflect
much on this subject when in pain or dis-
tress, or in expectation of death."

" During the whole of this severe illness,
he read much in Campbell's translation of
the Gospel ; and, at intervals, one of his
daughters read to him, from this version,
his favorite to the last. On the morning of
the 21st, the day on which he died, he had
it laid before him, as usual, and read it him-
self in his ordinary recumbent attitude."

Mrs. Hall, in the course of this morning,
remarking to him that he appeared better,
and expressing her hopes that he would re-
cover; he replied, "Ah! my dear, let us
hope for the best, and prepare for the

worst." He then stated his opinion that
this day would be critical. When his med-
ical attendants met in consultation, a little
after noon, he seemed rather belter ; and
Mr. Chandler left him, between one and
two reclining on the sofa, leaning on his el-
bow with aa much muscular energy as ev-
er.

" Before leaving him," he remarks, " I ex-
plained to him the plan of proceeding to be
observed ; on which he bowed, saying, that
whatever we wished he would comply with,
he would do whatever we desired ; beg-
ging that he might not interfere with my
duties to other patients, and adding that he
thought he should be very comfortable till
my return.

"In a very short time, and before I had
reached home, I was summoned to behold
the last agonizing scene of this great and
extraordinary man. His difficulty of breath-
ing had suddenly increased to a dreadful
and final paroxysm. It seems this last par-
oxysm came on more gradually than was
usual Avith those which preceded. Mr. Hall
finding his breathing becoming much worse,
first rose more on his elbow, then raised his
body, supporting himself with his hands, till
the increasing agitation obliged him to rise
completely on the sofa, and to place his feet
in hot water ; the usual means he resorted
to for relief in every paroxysm. Mrs. Hall,
observing a fixation of his eyes, and an un-
usual expression on his countenance, and
indeed in his whole manner, became alarm-
ed by the sudden impression that he Avas
dying ; and exclaimed in great agitation,
' This can't be dying !' when he replied, ' It
is death — it is death — death ! Oh the suffer-
ings of this body !' Mrs. Hall then asking
him, 'But are you comfortable in your
mind?' he immediately answered, 'Very
comfortable — very comfortable !' and ex-
claimed, ' Come Lord Jesus — Come.' He
then hesitated, as if incapable of bring-
ing out the last word ; and one of his
daughters, involuntarily, as it were, antici-
pated him by saying, ' Gtuickly !' on which
her departing father gave her a look express-
ive of the most complacent delight.

" On entering his room, I found him sit-
ting on the sofa, surrounded by his lament-
ing family ; with one foot in the hot water,
and the other spasmodically grasping the
edge of the bath ; his frame waving in vio-
lent, almost convulsive heavings, sufficient-
ly indicative of the process of dissolution.
I hastened, though despairingly, to admin-
ister such stimulants as might possibly
avert the threatening termination of life ;
and as I sat by his side for this purpose he
threw his arm over my shoulders for sup-
port, with a look of evident satisfaction that
I was near him. He said to me, ' I am dy-
ing : death is come at last : all will now be

278

MEMOIR OF ROBERT HALL,

useless.' As I pressed upon him draughts
of stimulants, he intimated that he would
take them if I wished ; but he believed all
was useless. On my asking him if he suf-
fered much, he replied, ' Dreadfully.' The
rapidly increasing gasping soon overpower-
ed his ability to swallow, or to speak, ex-
cept in monosyllables, few in number, which
I could not collect ; but, whatever might be
the degree of his suffering (and great it
must have been,) there was no failure of
his mental vigor or composure. Indeed, so
perfect was his consciousness, that in the
midst of these last agonies, he intimated to
me very shortly before tlie close, with his
accustomed courteousness, a fear lest he
should fatigue me by his pressure ; and
when his family, one after another, gave
way in despair, he followed them with sym-
pathizing looks, as they were obliged to be
conveyed from the room. This was his last
voluntary movement; for immediately a
general convulsion seized him, and he quick
jy expired."

O ! how inconceivablyblessed is the change
when, at the moment of utmost agony, the
soul enters the regions of endless joy ; pass
es from the land of the dying to the land of
the living ; from the society of saints to the
blissful presence of the King of saints, where
knowledge, illumination, purity, and love
flow for ever and ever from the Inexhausti
ble Fountain ! Such is the ineffable re
ward which awaits all the faithful followers
of the Lamb. " Father, I will that they
also whom thou hast given me be with me
where I am, that they may behold my glory."

Nothing, I feel, would be more presump-

tuous than for me to attempt to portray ful-
ly the literary, intellectual, or religious char-
acter of my inestimable friend. I have
known, and still know, many whom I great-
ly value, many whom I cordially love and
admire, many from whom I have learned
much and might have learned more, but for
ray incapacity to receive what they were
ready to impart ; but I have known none in
whom so many elements of mental and mor-
al greatness were so happily combined as
in Mr. Hall ; none whose converse and
whose diversified knowledge have so con-
stantly interested, charmed, and instructed
me ; none whose transcendant qualities ex-
cited so high and overawing a veneration,
yet none whose humility and cordiality, ex-
quisitely blending with genius and piety,
inspired so unhesitating a confidence.

His profound acquaintance with the mind
and heart, and his corresponding faculty of
tracing and separating the springs of hu-
man action, gave him an unusual influence
with the present race as a sacred orator :
while he seems to be one of the few men
whose creative intellect, and whose singular
ability in the development of religious
truth, and the illustration and confirmation
of many principles of universal and increas-
ing interest, qualify them to operate with as
extensive an influence in moulding the in-
tellectual and moral character of succeed-
ing generations.

His varied and extraordinary powers,
thus diffusively applied to the most momen-
tous subjects, will be seen from his " Works,"
which are now collected that they may con-
stitute his noblest monument, the most en-
during tribute to his memory.

THE END.

STRICTURE

SANDEMANIAN f S

IN "S^. ^4

TWELVE LETTERS TO A FRIEND.

By rev. ANDREW FULLER,

LETTER I.

Introduction.

"My dear Friend,

I HAVE been told more than once that
my not answering the piece written some
years since by Mr. A. M'Lean has been
considered as a proof that I felt it unan-
swerable. But, if so, I must have felt the
productions of many other opponents un-
answerable as well as his ; for I have sel-
dom had the last word in a controversy.
The truth is, I was not greatly inclined to
answer Mr. M. I felt disgusted with the
illiberality of his repeatedly arraigning my
motives, his accusing me of intentional
misrepresentations, and his insinuating as
though I could " take either side of a ques-
tion as I found occasion." I contented my-
self, therefore, with writing a small tract,
called The Great Question Answered; in
which, while complying with the desire of
a friend, I endeavored to state my views
unthout controversy ; and as Mr. M. had
given a caricature description of what my
principles would amount to, if applied in
tlie form of an address to the unconverted,
I determined to reduce them to that form ;
hoping also that, with the blessing of God,
they might prove of some use to the parties
addressed.

Whether it was owing to this tract or
not, I have reason to believe that the friends
of religion, who attended to the subject,
did me justice at the time, and that even
those who favored Mr. M's side of the ques-
tion thought he must have mistaken the
drift of my reasoning, as well as have im-
puted motives to me of which I was inno-
cent.

Whatever Mr. M. may think of me, I
do not consider him as capable of either
intentional misrepresentation, or taking eith-
er side of the question as he may find oc-
caeion. That my principles are misrepre-

sented by him, and that in a great numo^.
of instances, I could easily prove : but the
opinion that I have of his character leads
me to impute it to misunderstanding and
not to design.

I am not conscious of an anbrotherly
feehng towards Mr. M. In resuming the
subject, however, after such a lapse of time
I have no mind to write a particular answer
to his performance, though I may frequent-
ly notice his arguments. It is in conse-
quence of observing the nature and ten-
dency of the system that I undertake to ex-
amine it. Such an examination will not
only be more agreeable to my own feel-
ings, but more edifying to the reader, than
either an attack on an individual opponent
or a defence of myself against him.

In calling the sentiments I oppose San-
demanianism, I mean nothing invidious.
The principles taught by Messrs. Glass and
Sandeman, about half a century ago, did
certainly give a new turn and character to
almost every thing pertaining to the relig-
ion of Christ, as must appear to any one
who reads and understands their publica-
tions. In the north it is the former of these
authors who gives name to the denomina-
tion ; with us it is the latter, as being most
known by his writings.

I have denominated Sandemanianism a
system ; because it not only, as I have said,
affects the whole of Christianity, but indu-
ces all who embrace it to separate from
other Christians. Mr. Sandeman manifest-
ly desired that the societies which were
connected with him should be unconnected
with all others, and that they should be
considered as the only true churches of
Christ. Such a view of things amounts to
more than a difference on a few points of
doctrine ; it is a distinct species of religion,
and requires, for distinction's sake, to have,
a name, and till some other is found by
which it can be designated it must be call-
ed after that of its author.

If. is not my design to censure Sandema-

280

FULLER ON S ANDEM ANIANISM.

nianism in the gross. There are many
things in the system which, in my judgment
are wortliy of serious attention. If Mr.
Sandeman and his followers had only
taught tliat faith has revealed truth lor its
object, or that which is true antecedently
to its being believed, and whether it be be-
lieved or not ; that the finished work of
Christ, exclusive of every act, exercise, or
thought of the human mind, is that for the
sake of which a sinner is justified before
God 5 that no qualifications of any kind are
necessary to warrant our believing in him ;
and that the first scriptural consolation re-
ceived by the believer arises from the gos-
pel, and not from reflecting on the feelings
of his own mind towards it ; they would
have deserved well of the church of Christ.

Whether those against whom Mr. S. in-
veighs, under the name of popular preach-
ers, were so averse to these principles as
he has represented them is another ques-
tion. I have no doubt, however, but they
and many other preachers and writers of
the present times stand corrected by him
and by other writers /who have adopted his
principles.

Mr. Ecking (in his Essays, p. 33) re-
marks on some passages in Mr. Boston's
Fourfold State with much propriety, par-
ticularly on such language as tlie follow-
ing: "Do what you can; and it may be
while you are doing what you can for your-
selves God will do for you what you ca7i-
not." Again: "Let us believe as Ave can,
in obedience to God's command, and while
we are doing so, although the act be at the
beginning but natural, yet, in the very act,
promised and purchased grace strikes in
and turns it into a supernatural act of be-
lieving." From other parts of Mr. Bos-
ton's work, it appears that he did not con-
eider grace as promised to any of the works
of the unregenerate ; but allowing him, by
"promised grace" in this passage, to mean
that which was promised to Christ on be-
half of those who were given him by the
Father, yet the language is unscriptural
and dangerous, as giving the sinner to un-
derstand that his inability is something that
excuses him, and that in doing what he cnn
while in enmity to God he obeys the divine
command, and is, at least in a more hope-
ful way of obtaining supernatural grace.
The apostles exhorted sinners to repent
and believe the gofpel, and to nothing short
of it, making no account of their inability.
If we follow their example, God may lionor
his own ordinances by accompanying them
with his Holy Spirit; but, as to any thing
being done in concurrence with the endeav-
ors of the unregenerate, we have no such
idea held out to us in the oracles of God.

It is God's ordinary method, indeed, prior
to his bestowing that supernatural grace

which enables a sinner to repent emd be-
lieve the gospel, by various means to awak-
en him to reflection and to the serious con-
sideration of his condition as a transgressor
of the divine law. Such convictions may
last for a considerable time, and may issue
in true conversion ; but they may not : and
so long as the gospel-way of salvation is
rejected or neglected, in favor of some self-
righteous scheme, there is nothing truly
good in them. They are as the noise and
the shaking- of the dry bones, but not the
breath of life. They are the means by
which God prepares the mind for a wel-
come reception of the gospel, but they con-
tain no advance towards Christ on the part
of the sinner. He is not nearer the king-
dom of heaven, nor less in danger of the
wrath to come, than when he was at ease
in his sins. Nay, notwithstanding the out-
ward reformation which such convictions
ordinarily produce, he is not, upon the
whole, a less sinner in the sight of God
than he was before. On the contrary,
"He who continues, under all this light,
and contrary to the plain dictates and press-
ing painful convictions of his own con-
science, obstinately to oppose and reject
Jesus Christ, is, on the account of this his
impenitence and obstinacy, under this clear
light and conviction of conscience, (what-
ever alteration or reformation has taken
place in him in other repects.) more guilty,
vile, and odious in God's sight than he was
before."*

For a minister to withhold the invitations
of the gospel till he perceives the sinner
sufficiently, as he thinks, convinced of sin,
and then to bring them forward as some-
thing to which he is entitled, holding up
his convictions and distress of mind as
signs of grace, and persuading him, on
this ground, to think himself one of God's
elect and warranted to believe in Christ, is
doing worse than nothing. The comfort
which the apostles presented to awakened
sinners consisted purely in the exhibition
of Christ and the invitations to believe in
him. Neither the company addressed by
Peter nor the Philippian jailor were en-
couraged from any tiling in the state of
their own minds, though both were deeply
impressed, but from the gospel only. The
preachers might and would take encour-
agement on perceiving them to be pricked
in their hearts, and might hope for a good
issue ; but it had been at their peril to en-
courage them to hope for mercy any oth-
erwise than as believing in the Son of God.

The Hy'per-Calvinisls, who set aside the
invitations of the gospel to the unregene-
rate, abound in these things. They are
aware that the scriptures do invite sinners

Uopkin's True State of the Unregenerate, p. 6.

FULLER ON S ANDEM ANI ANISM.

281

of some sort to believe in Christ ; but thenl perceived sin to be exceeding sinful. Suck
they conceive them to be sensible sinners a conviction of sin cannot consist with a re

only. It is thus that the terms hunger,
thirst, labor, heavy-laden, &c., as used in the
scripture invitations, are considered as de-
noting spiritual desire, and as marking out
the persons who are entitled to come to
Christ. That gospel invitations should be
addressed to sinners as the subjects of those
wants and desires which it is adapted to
satisfy, such as the thirst for happiness,
peace, rest, &c., is no more than might be
expected. It had been strange if living
waters had been presented to them who in
no sense were thirsty, or rest to them who
were in no sense weary and heavy-laden ;
but it does not follow that this thirst and
this weariness are spiritual. On the con-
trary, they who are invited to buy and eat,
without money and without price, are sup-
posed to be "spending their money for
that which is not bread ;" are admonished
as " wicked" men to forsake their way ; and
invited to return to the Lord under a prom-
ise of abundant pardon, on their so return-
ing. " The heavy-laden," also, are sup-
posed as yet not to have come to Christ, nor
taken his yoke, nor learned his spirit ; and
surely it could not have been the design of
Christ to persuade them to think well of
their state, seeing he constantly teaches that
till a sinner come to him, or believe in him,
he is under the curse. It is also observable
that the promise o^rest is not made to them
as heavy-laden, but as coming to Christ with
their burdens. There is no proof that all
who were "pricked in their hearts" under
Peter's sermon, and who inquired, " What
shall we do ?" believed and were saved.
On the contrary, it seems to be intimated
that only a part of them " gladly received
the word, and were baptized." Had they
■all done so, it would probably have been
said, " Then they gladly received his word,
and were baptized." Instead of this it is
said, " Then they that gladly received his
word were baptized," &c. implying that
there were some who, though pricked in
their hearts, yet " received not" the word of
the gospel, and were not baptized ; and who
might leave the place under an impression
that the forgiveness of sins in the name of
Jesus Christ was a hard saying. There are
many, it is to be feared, who at this day feel
guilt to be a heavy burden, and yet never
bring it to Christ ; but lay it down on some
self-rigliteous resting-place, and so perish
forever.

It docs not follow, however, that all con-
victions of sin are to be resolved into the
operations of an awakened conscience
There is such a thing as a conviction of the
evil nature of sin, and tliat by a view of tlie
epirituality and equity of the divine law.
It was by tiie " commandment" that Paul

Vol. 3. — Jj.

jection of the gospel way of salvation, but,
as soon as it is understood, instantly leads
the sinner to embrace it. It ie thus that
" through the law we become dead to the
law, that we may live unto God."

I may add, the attention of Christians
appears to have been too much drawn
towards what may be called subjective relig-
ion, to the neglect of that which is objective.
Many speak and write as though the truth
of the gospel was a subject out of doubt, and
as though the only question of importance
was, whether they be interested in its bless-
ings ; and there are not a few who have no
doubt of their behevingthe former, but ma-
ny doubts respecting the latter. Hence, it
is probable, the essence of faith came to be
placed, not in a belief of the gospel, but in
a persuasion of our being interesed in its
benefits. If, however we really believe the
one. there is no scriptural ground to doubt
of the other; since it is constanlly declared
that he who believeth the gospel shall be
saved.

If the attention of the awakened sinner,
instead of being directed to Christ, be turn-
ed inward, and hie mind be employed in
searching for evidences of his conversion,
the effect must, to say the least, be uncom-
fortable, and may be fatal ; as it may lead
him to make a righteousness of his religious
feelings, instead cf looking out of himself to
the Saviour.

Nor is this all : If the attention of Chris-
tians be turned to their own feelings, in-
stead of the things which should make
them feel, it will reduce their religion to
something vastly different from that of the
primitive Christians. Such truths as the
following were the life of their spirits : " Je-
sus Christ came into the world to save sin-
ners." " Christ died for our sins according
to the scriptures ; and was buried, and rose
again the third day, according to the scrip-
tures." " Remember that Jesus Christ, of
the seed of David, was raised from the dead
according to the gospel." " We have a
great high-priest that has passed into the
heavens, Jesus the Son of God," &c. But,
by the turn of thought and strain of conver-
sation in many religious connections of the
present day, it would seem as if these things
had lost their influence. They are become
" dry doctrines," and the parties must have
something else. The elevation and de-
pression of their hopes and fears, joys and
sorrows, is with them the favorite theme.
The consequence is, as might be expected,
a living to themselves rather than to liira
that died and rose again ; and a mind ei-
ther elated by unscripuiral enjoyment or
depressed by miserable despondency. It is
not by thinking and talldng of the senea-

282

FULLER ON S A N DE M ANI AN ISM.

tions of hunger, but by feeding on the living
ahmeiit, that we are filled and strengthened.

Whether the above remarks will satisfy
Mr. M'Lean that these are " really my fix-
ed sentiments," and that he has greatly
misunderstood the ends for which I wrote
the piece on which he animadverted, and
of course misrepresented my principles as
to their effect on awakened sinners, I can-
not tell.* Be this as it may, I trust other
readers will be under no temptation to do
me injustice.

But, whatever danger may arise from
those principles which are too prevalent
among us, they are not the only errors, nor
does all the danger arise from that quarter.
Subjective religion is as necessary in its
place as objective. It is as true that " with-
out holiness no man shall see the Lord," as
that " without the shedding of blood there
is no remission." It is necessary to look
into ourselves for the purpose of conviction,
though not for the cause of salvation ; and
though the evidence of the truth of the gos-
pel is without us, and independent of our
state of mind towards it, yet this is not the
case with respect to evidence of an inter-
est in its blessings. We have no warrant
to expect eternal life but as being the sub-
jects of those things to which it is promis-
ed.

I do not perceive, therefore, how it can
be justly affirmed, as it lately has been, that
"self-examination is not calculated to quiet
the conscience, to banish slavish fear, or to
remove doubts and apprehensions of our
being unbelievers ;" and still less how it
can be maintained that " peace of mind
founded on any thing in ourselves will al-
ways puff us up with pride." If the state
of our souls be bad, indeed, self-examination
must disquiet the conscience, rather than
quiet it : but are there no cases in which
through the accusations of others, or a pro-
pensity in ourselves to view the dark side
of things rather than the bright one, or the
afflicting hand of God, our souls may bedi
quieted within us and in which self-exami-
nation may yield us peace? Did the re-
view which Job took of his past life (chap
xxxi.) yield no peace to him ? And though
he was not clear when examined by the im-
partial eye of God, yet were all his solemn
appeals respecting his integrity the work-
ings of self-righteous pride ? Was David
puffed up when he said, " Lord, I have hop-
ed in thy salvation, and have done thy com-
mandments ?" Did John encourage a conii-
dence in the flesh, when lie said, "If our
hearts condemn us not, then have we con-
fidence towards God ?" or Peter, when he
appealed to Christ, " Lord, thou knowcst
all things, thou knowcst that I love thee ?"

• See his Repfy.pp. 46, 47, 153.

Had it been only affirmed that no peacC
of mind can arise from the recollection of
what we have felt or done in times past,
while at present we are' unconscious of any
thing of ihe kind, this had been true. Past
experiences can no otherwise be an evidence
of grace to us than as the remembrance of
them rekindles the same sentiments and
feelings anew. But to object to all peace of
mind arising from a consciousness of having
done the will of God, and to denominate it
"confidence in the flesh," is repugnant to
the whole tenor of scripture.

A system may contain much important
truth, and yet be blended with so much er-
ror as to destroy its salutary efficacy. Mr.
Sandeman has expunged a great deal of
false religion ; but whether he has exhibit-
ed that of Christ and his apostles is anoth-
er question. It is much easier to point out
the defects and errors of other systems than
to substitute one that is even less exception-
able ; and to talk of " simple truth," and
" simple belief," than to exhibit the religion
of Jesus in its genuine simplicity.

In discussing the points at issue, we shall
meet with some things which may be
thought of too metaphysical a cast to be of
any great importance : and, had not the ef-
fects produced convinced me of the contra-
ry, I might have thought so too. But
though the principles on which the system
rests are many of them so minute as almost
to elude detection, yet they are not the less
efficacious. The seed is small, but the
branch is not so.

It has been regretted that any person who
drinks thoroughly into these views is at once
separated from ail his former religious con-
nections, whatever they might be ; and,
where the heart has been united it must
needs be a matter of regret : yet, upon the
whole, it may be best. Whatever fruits are
produced by this species of religion, wheth-
er good or bad, they are hereby much more
easily ascertained. Its societies bear some
resemblance to so many farms, taken in dif-
ferent parts of the kingdom, for the purpose
of scientific experiment; and it must needs
be apparent, in the course of fifty or sixty
years experience, whether upon the whole,
they have turned to a better account than
those of their neighbors.

I will only add, in this place, that though
I do not conceive of every one as embracing
this doctrine who in some particulars may
agree with Mr. Sandeman. (for in that case
I should be reckoned to embrace it myself,)
yet many more must be considered as friend-
ly to it in the main than those who choose
fo be called either Sandemanians or Glass-
ites. It has been held by people of vari-
ous denominations ; by Presbyterians, In-
dependents, and Baptists; and has been
observed to give a distinctive character to

PULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

283

the whole of their religion. In this view
of the subject I wish to examine it; paying
attention not so much to persons or names
as to things, let them be embraced by whom
they may.

LETTER IL

A general view of the system, with its lead-
ing points of difference from the systems
which it opposes.

Although the writings of such men as
Flavel, Boston, Guthrie, the Erskines, &c.,
are represented by Mr. Sandeman as fur-
nishing " a devout path to hell," and the
writers themselves as pharisees, " than
whom no sinners were more hardened, and
none greater destroyers of mankind," yet
he allows them to have set before us " ma-
ny articles of the apostolic doctrine ;" yea,
and to have " asserted almost all the arti-
cles belonging to the sacred truth." Con-
sidering this, and that so far as these wri-
ters held with " good duties, good endeav-
ors, and good motions" in unbelievers, pre-
paring them for faith, we give them up, it
may seem as if there could be no great dif-
ference between Mr. Sandeman and us.
Yet a difference there is, and of such im-
portance, too, as deeply to affect the doc-
trine, the worship, the spirit, and the prac-
tice of Christianity.

The foundation of whatever is distin-
guishing in the system seems to relate lo
the nature of justilying faith. This Mr. S.
constanlly represents as the bare belief of
the bare truth ; by which definition he in-
tends, as it would seem, to exclude from it
every thing pertaining to the will and the
affections, except as effects produced by it.

When Mr. Pike became his disciple, and
wished to think that by a " bare belief" he
meant a hearty persuasion, and not a mere
notional belief, Mr, S. rejected his construc-
tion, and insisted that the latter was his true
meaning. " Every one," says he, " who
obtains a just notion of the person and word
of Christ, or whose notion corresponds to
what is testified of him, is justified, and
finds peace with God simply by that 7io-
tionP*

This notion he considers as the effect of
truth being impressed upon the mind, and
denies that the mind is active in it. The in-
activity of the mind in believing is of so
much importance, in his account, that the
doctrine of justification by grace depends
upon it. "He who maintains," says he.
" that we are justified only by faith, and at
the same time affirms, with Aspasio, that

EjMstoliO' Cr>rn38pondencc, Leiter II.

faith is a work exerted by the human mind,
undoubtedly maintains, if he have any
meaning to his words, that we are justified
by a work exerted by the human mind."*

Mr. Sandeman not only opposes all ac-
tive endeavors previously to faith, and as
tending to procure it, (in which I have no
controversy with him,) but sets himself
against all exhortations, calls, warnings,
and expostulations, with the sinner to be-
lieve in Christ. " If," says he, " it be in-
quired what I would say for the relief of
one distressed with a sense of guilt, I would
tell him, to the best of my ability, what the
gospel says about Christ. If he still doubt-
ed, I would set before him all the evidence
furnished me by the same gospel. Thus,
and thus only, would I press, call, invite,
exhort, or urge him to believe. I would
urge him with evidence for the truth."!
And when asked how he would exhort ad-
vise, or address stupid, unconcerned souls,
He answers, " I am of the mind that a
preacher of the gospel, as such, ought to
have no influence on men but by means of
the gospel which he preaches. When
Paul discoursed concerning the faith in
Christ, and as he reasoned of righteous-
ness, temperance, and judgment to come,
Felix trembled. It is the diily of every
man, in every condition, to obey every di-
vine command. The gospel always sup-
poses this while addressing all men as sin-
ners ; it demonstrates their danger, and dis-
covers the remedy. Yet it is absurd to
suppose that any man can love the gospel,
or obey it, till he believe it. Therefore, to
urge unbelievers to any shadow of that
obedience as preparative to justification by
faith, can have no other effect than to lead
them to establish their own righteousness,
and to stand in awe of the preacher." — p. 29.

If there be any meaning in this answer,
it would seem to be that faith itself is not
a duty, and that unbelievers ought not to
be exhorted to it, lest it should lead them
to self-righteousness ; but barely to have
the evidence of truth stated to them.

Mr. S. represents the sinner as justified,
and as having obtained peace to his soul
while utterly destitute of the love of God.
" I can never begin to love God," says he,
"till I first see him just in justifjing me un-
godly as I stand." p. 12. But, being jus-
tified Jn this his ungodly state of mind, he
loves God on account of it; and here be-
gins his godliness: "It all consists in love
to that which first relieved him." — p. 8.

If he had represented the doctrine of
Christ as giving relief to the guilty creature,
irrespective of any consciousness of a
change in himself, or as furnishing him with

* LettPTS on Theron and ABpasio, Vo!. I. p- 4S3.
t Epistolary CorreBi>ood3nc«, p. 8.

2S4

FULLER ON S A NDEM ANIANISM.

a ground to conclude that God can be just
and the justifier of him if he believes in Je-
sus^ this had accorded with Paul's gospel,
(Rom. iv. 24;) but tor a sinner to perceive
himself justified implies a consciousness that
he is a believer, and such a consciousness
can never be separate from a conscious love
to the divine character. If, indeed, the gos-
pel were an expedient merely to give relief
to sinners, and no regard was had in it to
the glory of God, a sinner full of enmity to
God, might receive it, and derive peace
from it ; but, if it be an essential property
of it to secure the glory of the divine char-
acter, the belief of it mu«t include a sense
of that glory, which cannot consist with en-
mity against it.

Let it also be seriously considered wheth-
er it be true that a sinner is justified " un-
godly as he stands ?" If it be, he must have
been so either antecedently to his " seeing"
it to be so, and then it must be equally true
of all ungodly sinners ; or it becomes so
when he sees it, and hy his seeing it, which
is the very absurdity, which JMr. S. fastens
on the popular preachers.

Mr. S. and many ethers have caught at
the phrase of the apostle Paul, of " God's
justifying the ungodly;" but unless they
can prove that by ungodly the apostle meant
one who was at the lime an enemy of God,
it makes nothing in their favor. The
amount is, Mr. S.'s relifif arises from his
" seeing" what is not to be seen ; viz. God
to be just in justifying him ungodly as he
stands ; and, his relief being founded in
falsehood, all his godliness which confess-
edly arises from it, must be delusive. The
root is rottenness, and the blossoms will go
up as the dust.

From the leading principles of doctrine
above stated it is easy to account for almost
all the other peculiarities of the system.
Where the root and substance of religion
is placed in knowledge, exclusive of appro-
■ bation, it may be expected that the utmost
Btress will be laid on the former, and that
almost every thing pertaining to the latter
will be decried under the name of pharisa-
ism, or some other odious appellation.
Thus it is that those who have drunk into
this system generally value themselves on
their clear views ; thus they scarcely ever
use any other phrase by which to designate
the state of a converted man than his know-
ing the truth ; and thus all those scripture
passages which speak of knowing the truth
are constantly quoted as being in their fii-
vor, though they seldom, if ever, mean
knowledge as distinguished from approba-
tion, but as including it.

Farther : I do not perceive how a system
whose first principle is " notion," and whose
love is confined to " that which first relieves
Bs^" can have the love of God in it. It can-

not justify God as a Lawgiver, by taking
blame and shame to ourselves ; for it ne-
cessarily supposes, and even professes, an
abhorrence to both law and justice in every
other view than as satisfied by the cross of
Christ. The reconciliation to them in thia
view, therefore, must be merely on the
ground of their becoming friendly to our in-
terests. But, if God be not justified as a
Lawgiver, Christ can never be received as
a iSaviour. There is no more grace in jus-
tification than there is justice in condemna-
tion : nor is it possible we should see more
of the one than the other ; for we cannot
see things otherwise than as they are to be
seen. But surely a system which neither
justifies the Lawgiver nor receives the Sa-
viour as honoring him cannot be of God.
The love of God a^ God i^ not in it. Con-
version, on this principle, is not turning tO'
the Lord. It professes, indeed, to love God :
but it is only for our own sake. The whole
process requires no renovation of the spirit
of the mind ; for the most depraved crea-
ture is capable of loving himself and that
which relieves him.

Is it any wonder that a religion founded
on such a principle slrould be litigious, con-
ceited, and censorious towards all who do
not embrace it ? It is of the nature of a
selfish spirit to be so. If God himself be
loved only for the relief he affords us, it can-
not be surprising that men should ; nor
that, under the cover of loving them only
for the truth's sake, all manner of bitterness
and contempt should be cherished against
every one who dares to dispute our dog-
mas.

Farther : The love of God being in a
manner excluded from the system, it may
be expected that the defect will be supplied
by a punctilious attention to certain forms ;
of which some will be found to arise from a
a misunderstanding of the scriptures, and
others which may not. yet, being regarded
to the neglect of weightier matters, resem-
ble the tithing of mijit^ anise, and cummin.

Such, from the repeated views that I have
been able to take of the system, appear to
me to be its grand oudines ; and I am not
surprised to find that, in the course of half
a century, it has landed so large a part of
its votaries on the shores of Infidelity, or
sunk them in the abyss of worldly confor-
mity. Those who live near them say there
is scarcely any appearance of serious relig-
ion in their families, unless we might call
by that name the scrupulosity tliat would
refuse to pray with an unbeliever, but would
have no objection to accompany him to the
theatre. Mr. S. and his admirers have re-
proached many for their devotion ; but I
cannot learn that they were ever reproach-
ed with this evil in return.

The grand argunicnt of Mr. S. againet

FULLER ON S AND EM ANI ANI S M.

285

faith being an act of the mind, and against
admitting of any active advance of the soul
towards Christ as necessary to justification,
is that it is rendering faith a work; and
that to be justified by faith would, after all,
be to be justified by a work of our own.
This is the principal idea pertaining to what
he calls " the very rankest poison of the
popular doctrine."* If this argument can
be overturned, the greater part of his sys-
tem falls with it. That it may appear in
all its force I will quote his strongest repre-
sentations of it.

" Perhaps it will be thought needful that
I should define with greater precision than
I have hitherto done what I mean by the
popular doctrine, especially as I have con-
sidered many as preachers thereof who
differ remarkably from each other; and

Karticularly as I have ranked among them
Ir. Wesley, who may justly be reckoned
one of the most virulent reproachers of that
God whose character is drawn by the apos-
tles that this island has produced. To re-
move all doubt concerning my meaning, I
shall thus explain myself Throughout
these letters I consider all those as teachers
of the popular doctrine who seek to have
credit and influence among the people by
resting our acceptance with God, not sim-
ply on what Christ has done, but more or
less on the use we make of him, the ad-
vance we make towards him, or some se-
cret desire, wish, or sigh to do so ; or on
something we feel or do concerning him,
by the assistance of some kind of grace or
spirit: or, lastly, on something we employ
him to do, and suppose he is yet to do for
us. In sum, all who would have ua to be
conscious of something else than the bare
truth of the gospel ; all who would have us

are justified by a work exerted by the hvr
man mind.''''

" I have all along studied to make use of
every form of expression I could think of,
for evincing in the most clear, palpable, and
striking manner, a difference of the last im-
portance, which thousands of preachers
have labored to cover with a mist. If I
have made that difference manifest to those
who have any attention for the subject, my
great end in writing is gained, on v/hatev-
er side of it men shall choose to rank them-
selves. It has frequently appeared to me
a thing no less amazing than provoking,
when the great difference between the an-
cient gospel here contended for and the
popular doctrine has been pointed out as
clear as words could make it, to find many,
after all, so obstinately stupid as to declare
they saw no real difference. This I cannot
account for by assigning any other cause
than the special agency of the prince of
darkness."*

After this, it may be thought an act of
temerity to complain of not understanding
Mr. Sandeman: and indeed I shall make
no such complaint, lor I think I do clearly
understand his meaning; but whether be
has fairly represented that of his opponents
I shall take the liberty to enquire.

The popular preachers " rest our accep-
tance with God," it seems, "not simply on
what Christ hath done, but on the active
advance of the soul towards him." Do they
then consider faith, whether we be active
or passive in it, as, forming a part of our
justifying righteousness? In other words,
do they consider it as any part of that for
the sake of which a sinner is accepted ?
They every where declare the contrary.
I question if there be one of those whom

to be conscious of some beginning of a I Mr. S. ordinarily denominates popular
change to the better, or some desire, how- preachers who would not cordially subscribe
ever faint, towards such change, in order to to the passage in Aspasio which hesohigh-
our acceptance with God; rhese I call the |ly applauds, and considers as inconsistent
popular preachers, however much they may with the popular doctrine; viz. "Both
differ from each other about faith, grace, grace and faith stand in direct opposition to
special or common, or about any thing else, vvorks; aZ^ works whatever, whether they
My resentment is all along chiefly pointed be works of the law or the gospel, exercises

against the capital branch of the popular
doctrine, which while it asserts almost all
the articles belonging to the sacred truth,
at the same time deceitfully clogs them
with the opposite lalsehoods."

Again : " That the saving truth is effect-
ually undermined by this confusion may
readily be seen in the following easy view"
—(this is what I call his grand argument,)
" He who maintains that xoe are jusiijied
only by faith, and at the same time affirms,
with Aspasio, that faith is a xcork exerted
by the human mind, undoubtedly maintains,
if he has any meaning in his words, that we

' Lsuera on Theron and Aflpaeio, p. 443.

of the heart or actions of the life, done while
we remain unregenerate or wlien we be-
come regenerate, they are all and every of
them equally set aside in this great affair."!
If the popular preachers maintain an ac-
tive advance of the soul to be necessary to
our acceptance with God, it is in no other
sense than that in which he himself main-
tains '= the bare belief of the truth" to be so ;
that is, not as a procuring cause, but as that
without which, according to the established
order of things, there is no acceptance. To
accuse them therefore of corrupting the

' Letters on Theron and Aspasio. Vol. IF. pp^80, 483L
1 Letters on Theron and Aspasio, Vol. I. p. 275.

286

FULLER ON S A N DEM AN lANISM.

doctrine of justification, on this account,
must be owing either to gross ignorance or
disingenuousncss.

Yet in this strain the eulogists of Mr.
Sandeman go on to declaim to this day.
"His main doctrine," says one, "appears
to be this : the bare work of Jesus Christ,
which he finished on the cross, is sufficient,
without a deed or a thought on the part of
man, to present the chief of sinners spot-
less before God."* If by sufficient be
meant that it is that only on account of
which, or for the sake of which, a sinner is
justified, it is very true ; and Mr. Sande-
man's opponents believed it no less than he
himself: out if it be meant to deny that any
deed or thought on the part of man is ne-
cessary in the established order of things,
or that sinners are presented spotless be-
fore God without a deed or a thought on
the subject, it is very false, and goes to de-
ny the necessity of faith 1o salvation; for
surely no man can be said to believe in
Christ without thinking of him.

Mr. Pike, who had embraced Mr. Sande-
man's view of faith, yet says to him, " I
cannot but conceive that you are sometimes
mistaken in your representations of what
yon call the popular doctrine ; for instance,
Upon the popular plan, say you, we can
never have peace in our consciences until
we besen^blc of some heg-inning of a good
disposition in tcs towards Christ. Now,
setting aside some few unguarded ex-
pressions and addresses, you will find that
the general drift and purport of their doc-
trine is just the contrary to this ; and they
labor this point, both Marshall and Hervey,
to convince persons that nothing of this na-
ture does or can recommend them to God or
be any part of their justifying righteous-
ness ; and their principal view is to beget
or to draw forth such thoughts in the mind
as lead the soul entirely out of itself to Christ
alone for rigtheousness."t It is observable,
too, that though Mr. S. answered this letter
of Mr. Pike, yet he takes no notice of this
passage.

I am not vindicating either Marshall or
Hervey in all their views ; but justice re-
quires that this misrepresentation should be
corrected, especially as it runs through the
whole of Mr. Sandeman's writings, and
forms the basis of an enormous mass of in-
vective.

By works opposed to grace and faith the
New Testament means works done with a
view of ohtainivg life, or of procuring ac-
ceptance with God as the reward of them.
If acceptance, faith, or sincere obedience,
be recommended as being such a condition
of salvation as that God may be expected
to bestow it in reward of them, this is turn-

' Cooppr's LflitcrB, p. 33.

t EphrtoUry Ooireefondenc*, p. 24.

ing the gospel into a covenant of works, and
is as much opposed to grace, and to the
true idea of justification by faith, as any
works of the law can be. But to deny the
activity of the soul in believing, lest faith it-
self should become a work of the law, and
so after all we should be justified by a work,
is both antiscriptural and nugatory: anti-
scriptural, because the whole tenor of the
Bible exhorts sinners to forsake their ways
and return to the Lord, " that he may have
mercy upon them ;" to believe in the light,
" that they may be children of light ;" and
to come to him " that they may have life :"
nugatory, because we need not go far for
proof that men know how to value them-
selves and despise others on account of their
notions as well as of their actions ; and so
are capable of making a righteousness of
the one as well as of the other.

Farther : If there be any weight in Mr.
Sandeman's argument it falls equally on
his own hypothesis as on that of his oppo-
nents. Thus we might argue, He who
maintains that we are justified only by faith,
and at the same time affirms, with Mr.
Sandeman, that faith is a notion formed by
the human mind, undoubtedly maintains, if
he has any meaning to his words, that we
are justified by a notion Ibrmed by the hu-
man mind.

Mr. S., as if aware of his exposedness to
this retort, labors in the foregoing quota-
tion, to make nothing of the belief of the
truth, or to keep every idea but that of the
truth believed out of sight. So fearful is he
of making faith to be any thing which has
a real subsistence in the mind that he plung-
es into gross absurdity to avoid it. Speak-
ing of that of which the believer is " con-
scious," he makes it to be truth instead of
the belief oT it; as if any thing could be an
object of consciousness but what passes or
exists in the mind !

It may be thought that the phrase, " All
who would have us to be conscious oi Bome-
thing else than the bare tr-uth of the gos-
pel" is a mere slip of the pen — but it is not ;
for had Mr. S. spoken of belief, instead of
the truth believed, asan objectof conscious-,
ness, his statement would have been mani-
festly liable (o the consequence which he
charges on his opponents. It might then
have been said to him, He who maintains
that we are justified only by faith, and at
the same time afllrms that faith is something
inherent in the human mind, undoubtedly
maintains, if he has any meaning to his
words, that Ave are justified by something
inherent in the human mind.

You must by this time perceive that Mr.
Sandeman's grand argument, or, as he de-
nominates it, his '• easy view," turns out ta
be a mere sophism. To detect it you have
only to consider the same thing in different

FULLER ON S ANDEM ANI ANISM,

287

views ; which is what Mr. Sandeman him-
self does on some occasions, as do all other
men. " I agree with you," says he to Mr.
Pike, " in maintaining that faith is the prin-
ciple and spring of every good disposition,
or of every good work ; but at the same
time, I maintain that faith does not justify
the ungodly as a principle of good disposi-
tions." p. 10. Why then may we not
maintain that we are justified only by faith,
and at the same time affirm that faith is a
grace inherent, an act of the human mind,
a duty commanded of God ; and all this
without affirming that we are justified by
any thing inherent, any act of ours, or any
duty that we perform ? And why must we
be supposed to use words without meaning,
or to contradict ourselves, when we only,
maintain that we are justified by that which
is inherent, is an act of the human mind,
and is a duty ; while yet it is not as suck,
but as uniting us to Christ and deriving
righteousness from him, that it justifies ?*

Assuredly, there is no necessity for reduc-
ing faith to a nullity, in order to maintain
the doctrine of justification by the imputed
righteousness of Christ. While we hold
that faith justifies, not in respect of the act
oi the believing, but of the righteousness on
which it terminates, or that God's pardon-
ing and receiving us to favor is in reward,
not of our believing, but of his Son's obe-
dience unto death, every purpose is answer
ed and ail inherent righteousness is exclud-
ed.

I have been the more particular on this
"easy view" of Mr. Sandeman, because it
is manifestly the grand pillar of his doc
trine. If this be overturned there is noth-
ing left standing but what will fall with a
f&vf slight touches : and whether it be so I
now leave you and the reader to judge.

To establish the doctrine of free justifica-
tion Mr. S. conceives itneccssary to reduce
justifying faith to a bare " belief," exclusive
of every "advance" of the mind towards
Christ, or ofcomiris- to him, trusting in him,
ifcc, and to maintain that these terms de-
note the effects of faith in tliose who are al-
ready in a justified state.— p. 34.

In opposing Mr. S. many have denied
that the belief of the gospel is justifying
faith. Observing, on the one hand, that
numbers appear to believe the truth, on
whom, nevertheless, it ha.s no salutary in-
fluence ; and, on the other, that believing
in Christ in the New Testament, is synony-
mous with "receiving him," "trusting in
him," and "coming to him," they have con-
cluded that the belief of the ffospel is rather
to be considered as something presupposed
in faith than faith itself. But there can be
no doubt that the belief of the jrospel hap.

* ,^,<^«l''eiitlf in Edward's i5c:m..iis uu Ju^^tit.cation.
pp- 14, 26.

in a great number of instances, the promise
of salvation ; and as to those nominal Chris-
tians on whom it has no salutary influence,
they beheve Christ no more than the .Tews
believed Moses, which our Lord would not
allow that they did. " If ye believed Mo-
ses," says he, " ye would beheve me for he
wrote of me."

But though the belief of the gospel is al-
lowed to have the promise of salvation, and
so to be justifying, yet it does not follow
that it is so exclusive of receiving Christ,
trusting in him, or coming to him. It were
easy to prove that repentance has the prom-
ise of forgiveness, and that by as great a
variety of passages as are brought fo prove
that the belief of the gospel is saving faith :
but were this attempted we should be told,
and justly too, that we are not to consider
repentance in these passages as excluding
but including faith in the Saviour. Such,
then is the answer to the argument drawn
from the promises of salvation made to the
belief of the gospel : belief, in these con-
nections, is not to be understood exclusive
of receiving the Saviour, coming to him, or
trusting in him, but as supposing and inclu-
ding them.

It is not denied that the ideas conveyed
by these terms are not metaphysically dis-
tinct from that of believing the gospel, nor
that they are its immediate effects ; but it is
not in this metaphysical sense that faith is
used in reference to justification. That be-
lief of the gospel which justifies, includes
receiving Christ, coming to him and trust-
ing in him. Whatever shades of difference
there be between belief and these "advan-
ces of the mind towards Christ." the Scrip-
tures represent them, with respect to an in-
terest in justification and other collateral
blessings, as one and the same thing. This
is manifest from the following passages :
" As many as received him, to them gave
he power (or privilege) to become the sons
of God, even to them that believe on his
name." " I know whom I have believed,
and am persuaded that he is able to keep
that which I have committed to him against
that day." "That we should be to the
praise and glory of his grace who^rs^ trust-
ed in Christ. In whom ye also trusted af-
ter ye heard the word of truth, the gospel
of your salvation ; in whom also after ye
believed ye were sealed," &c. "He that
cow.eth to me shall never hunger, and he
that bclievcth in me shall never thirst."
"Ye will not come with me that ye may have
life." " Co)ne unto me all ye that labor and
are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

In these and many other passages it is
manifest that believincr. coming, trusting,
&c., fire used as convertible terms, and that
the thing signified by them is necessary to
justification. If "receiving" Christ were

288

FULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

an effect of faith in persons already justi-
fied, why is it used as synonymons with it,
and held up as necessary to our being the
sons of God 7 If " coming" to Christ were
an exercise of mind in one who was alrea-
dy in a state of justification, why is he said
to come to him " that he may have life ?"
And why, if salvation be promised to a
mere " notion" of the truth without any love
to it, is it said of apostates, that " they re-
ceived not the love of the truth that they
might be saved?'''' Let those who have
their senses exercised to discern between
good and evil judge, from these things,
whether a mere notion of the truth, exclu-
sive, or, if you please, antecedent to the
consideration of receiving Christ, coming to
him, and trusting in him, be the faith that
justifies ; and whether, if the former were
separate from the latter, it would not leave
the sinner under condemnation.

It has been said, "Indefining saving faith,
some have included in its essence almost
every holy temper; and, by insisting so
much on this faith, and giving such labored
descriptions of it, have almost inevitably
led their followers to look more to their faith
than to the great object of faith ; to be more
occupied in attending to ihe working of
their own minds than with that truth which
reconciles the sinner to God. It is in con-
sequence to be feared that not a few who
are reckoned orthodox are in fact trusting
to their faith, and not to Christ, making him
merely a minister of their own self-right-
eousness : for we may go about to establish
our own righteousness under the name of
faith, as well as under any other name."

I doubt not but preachers may abound in
describing one part of divine truth, to the
neglect of another, and may go even be-
yond the truth ; people may also make a
righteousness of their faith, as well as of
other things. If no more were meant than
that a sinner whose inquiry is, What must
I do to be saved ? ought to be directed im-
mediately to Christ, and not to an examina-
tion into the nature of faith, I should most
cordially acquiesce in it ; but it does not
follow that nothing should on any occasion
be said of the true nature of faith. There
may be a time when the same person shall
come with another and very different ques-
tion ; namely, Ami a true believer? Such
questions there must have been in the apos-
tle's time, or there would not have been
nnswers to them. See 1 John ii. 3; iii. 14,
IS — 21. Now in answer to such an inquiry,
the true nature and geimine effects of fafth
require to be stated and distinguished from
that which leaves thousands short of salva-
tion. And. as to men making a righteous-
ness of their faith, men may make a right-
■eousness of simple belief as well as of trust,
©r any other idea supposed to be included,

in justifying faith ; and whether there be
not actually as much labored description,
self admiration, and contempt of others
(things nearly akin to self-righteousness,)
among the advocates of this system, as
among their opponents, let the candid ob-
server judge. If we are to say nothing
about the holy nature of faith, lest men
should make a righteousness of it, we must
say nothing of any thing else that is holy,
for the same reason, and so cease to dis-
tinguish all true religion in the mind from
that which is counterfeit ; but so did not the
sacred writers.

To the same purpose Mr. M'Lean writes
in his treatise on the Commission : " Now
when men include in the very nature of
justifying faith such good dispositions, holy
affections, and pious exercises of heart as
the moral law requires, and so make them
necessary (no matter under what considera-
tion) to acceptation with God, it perverts
the apostle's doctrine upon this important
subject, and makes justification to be at
least as it tcere by the works of the law."

I know not of any writer who has given
such a definition of faith as these statements
would represent. No more holy affection
is pleaded for in faith than unholy disaffec-
tion is allowed to be in imbelief. But the
design is manifestly to exclude all holy af-
fection from faith, as being favorable to self-
righteousness.

If, therefore, repentance be considered as
necessary to forgiveness, seeing this must
be allowed to include holy affection, it will
be considered as favorable to self-righteous-
ness. And as to distinguishing between
what is necessary Mi the established order
of things, from what is necessary as a pro-
airing cause, this will not be admitted ; for
it is " no matter under what consideration :"
if any thing required bj"- the moral law be
rendered necessary, "it makes justification
to be at least as it were by the works of the
law." Yet Mr. M. allows faith, whatever
it is, to be a duty. Is it then a requirement
of a new and remedial law ? Would not
the love of God which is required by the
old law, lead any sinner to believe in Christ?
If not, why is unbelief alleged against the
Jews as a proof that they had not the love of
God in them ? See John v. 42, 43. As
Mr. M., however, in his piece on the Calls
and Invitations of the Gospel, has gone far
towards answering himself, I shall tran-
scribe a passage from that performance :
" It is an unscriptural refinement upon di-
vine grace," he there says, " and contrary
to the doctrine of the apostles, to class faith
and repentance with the works of the law,
and to state them as equally opposite to
free justification. Indeed neither faith nor
repentance is the meritorious or procuring
cause of a sinners justification, any more

PULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

289

than the works of the law are, (and who
that really believes and repents will imag-
ine that they are?) But still, the one is
opposed to free justification, the other not.
To him that worketh is the reward not
reckoned of grace but of debt ; and faith
and repentance corresponding exactly with
the manifestation of divine grace, as freely
justifying tlie guilty through the atonement,
ere in their very nature opposite to all self-
dependence, and lead men to glory in the
Lord."— p. 26.

We see here that there is nothing in the
nature of repentance that clashes vnih a
free justification, which yet must be allowed
to include a portion of holy affection. Why
then object to the same thing in faith ! Is it
because holy affection is " required by the
moral law"?" Be it so: it is the same in re-
pentance as in faith : and, if the one may in
its very nature agree with a free justifica-
tion, so may the other. The truth is, the
moral law, materially considered, is not op-
posed to free justification. The love of God
and man in its own nature is as opposite to
self righteous pride as faith and repentance
are. It is not the law that is against the
promises, but those works of the law done
by a sinful creature with a view of obtain-
ing life, or of procuring acceptance with
God as the reward of them. If holy affec-
tion were urged with such a view, then
were it opposed to the free grace of the gos-
pel ; but while this is not the case, all such
reasonings are unscriptural refinements.

If men make a righteousness of their faith,
it is not owing to these representations of
it, but to their own corruptions ; for, let
faith include what good disposition it may,
it is no part of the meritorious cause of justi-
fication ; and let it be simpUfied as it may,
even till it shall contain no more of the holy
nature of God than a glance of the eye, yet
is it not on this account more friendly to the
doctrine of grace, nor less liable to become
the food of a self-righteous spirit. The way
in which this spirit is cut up in the New
Testament is, not by reducing faith to an
unfeeling speculation, but by denouncing
the curse against every one who cometh
short of perfect obedience. Gal. iii. 10.

It has been further said, " Faith purifies
the heart, work-eth by love, and discovereth
itself sincere by the performance of good
works. Faith therefore, isnotholiness, love.
or new obedience, unless the effect is the
same with the cause, or the evidence with
the thing proved." Faith certainly is not
the same thing as holiness, or love or new
obedience. Neither is unbelief the same
thing as unholiness, enmity, or disobedi-
ence : but it is not so distinct from either
las not to partake of thesameg-e/ieraZ nature.
It is not only the root of all other sin, but is
itself a sin. fn like manner, faith is not on-

VoL. 3. — Kk.

ly the root of all other obedience, but is it-
self an exercise of obedience. It is called
"obeying the truth," and "obeying the
gospel." To say that faith includes no ho-
liness, (which this objection certainly does,)
and yet produces it, as the seed produces a
plant, is to contradict the established laws
of nature, according to which every seed
produces its own body. God can produce
something out of nothing, but in the ordi-
nary course of traduction every seed produ-
ces after its kind. If holiness, therefore,
were not included in faith, it would not grow
out of it.

Mr. M'Lean does not agree with Mr.
Sandeman in considering faith as o. passive
admission of the truth, but allows it to be
an act or e.vercise of the mind. — Reply, pp.
74, 75. A large part of his work, however,
is taken up in attempting to prove that it is
a mere exercise of the understanding, ex-
clusive of every thing pertaining to the
will and affections. It is no part of the
question between him and me whether,
properly speaking, it has its seat in the un-
derstanding ; for this it may have, and yet
be infiuenced by the disposition. Unbelief
has its seat in the understanding, as much as
belief, yet it is not denied that this is influ-
enced by the disposition. " It arises," says
Mr. M'Lean, "not merely from ign-orance,
but also from the aversion of the will, where-
by the judgment is blinded, and most un-
reasonably prejudiced against the truth." —
p. 76. Nor had Mr. M'Lean any just
ground for construing what I had said in
proof of iaith in Christ being such a belief
as arises from a renewal of the spirit of the
mind, as an attempt to " prove that faith is
more than belief'' — p. SO. He allows unbe-
lief to arise, in part, from disposition ; yet I
suppose he would not be thought by this
concession, to make it something-more than
unbelief If unbelief may consist in such a
discredit of the gospel as arises from aver-
sion to it, and yet be nothing more than un-
belief; faith may consist in such a credit
of the gospel as arises from a renewal of
the spirit of the mind, and yet be nothing
more than belief.

To this may be added, if faith in Christ
be a duty commanded of God, an act of the
human mind, an exercise of obedience to
God, (all which Mr. M. acknowledges,) it
must be the effect of regeneration, or it will
follow that they that are in the flesh may
please God.

Mr. M'Lean speaks much of simple be-
lief, as Mr. Sandeman did of bare belief.
Mr. S. manifestly intended hereby to ex-
clude every " advance" of the sinner to
Christ, as signified by such terms as coming
to Christ, trusting in him, &c., from justify-
ing faith. Such may be the intention of Mr.
M'Lean : if it be not, I do not understand

290

FULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

the use of the epithet. He cannot, how-'
ever, consistently reject every " advance"
of the mind to Christ as belonging to justi-
fying faitli, since he acknowledges the soul
to be active in beheving. But while dwell-
ing so much on simple belief, why does he not
dwell also on simple unbelief? If belief be
eimple, so must unbelief, for they are oppo-
sites. And I really acknowledge there are
such thingsassimplebeliefandsimple unbe-
lief; but neither of them applies to the credit
or discred it of the gospel. If a stranger, who
has no claim on my confidence, relate a
etoryofsomething that he has seen in a distant
country, but which in no way concerns me,
I may believe him, or disbelieve him: my
faith in the one case, or my unbelief in the
other, would be perfectly simple. But if it
be a story of deep interest, if the undoubted
veracity of the party has a claim on my con-
fidence, and if my future course of life turns
upon the credit or discredit that I give him
neither the one nor the other will be simple,
but compounded of a number of moral prin-
ciples which influence my decision : if to
discredit his testimony, they are prejudices
which blind me to the force of evidence ; if
to credit it, candor, or openness to convic-
tion. It is thus in believing the gospel,
which is a subject of the deepest interest,
testified by a Being whose veracity it is a
crime to question, and of such consequence
10 a sinner even in this life, that, if he ad-
mit it, he must relinquish all his former
courses and live a new life. Intrenched in
prejudice, self-righteousness, and the love
of sin, he continues an unbeliever till these
strong holds are beaten down nor will he
believe so long as a wreck of them remains
sufficient to shelter him against the arrows
of conviction ; nor, in short, till by the reno-
vating influence of the Holy Spirit they fall
to the ground. It is then, and not till then,
that the doctrine of salvation by mere grace,
through a mediator, is cordially believed.

Mr. M'Lean, in his arguing for what he
calls simple belief, seems to be aware that
it is not the proper opposite of unbelief as
described in the scriptures. Hence he
somewhere alleges that we cannot reason
from the nature of unbelief to that of belief
any more than from that of demerit to merit.
But the disparity between demerit and
merit, to which he refers, does ijot respect
their nature, but the condition of the party
who is the subject of them. Merit is the
desert of good, and demerit is the desert of
evil: they are, therefore, properly opposites,
whatever may be the condition of the pa'rty
as to being equally capable of exercising
them ; and it is fair in ascertaining their
nature to argue from the one to the other.

Upon the whole, 1 see no reason to re-
tract what I have in substance said belbre,
tliat if faith and r]t;b !'"f be opposites

(which to deny were disowning lliat which
is self-evident,) the one can be no more
simple, or exclusive of the influence of tlie
will, than the other.

LETTER III.

A more Particular Inquiry into the Conse-
quences of Mr. Sandeman^s Notion of
Justifying Faith.

You will not conclude from any thing I
have said, or may yet say, that I accuse
every one who favors this doctrine of hold-
ing all the consequences which may be
proved to arise from it: it is, however, a
(air method of trying a principle, to point
out other principles to which it leads, which,
if contrary to the scriptures, furnish reasons
for rejecting it.

If the faith by which we are justified be
a mere passive reception of light, or con-
tain no exercise of affection, it tbllows:

First, IViat repentance is not necessary
to forgiveness. It is allowed on all hands,
that justification includes the forgiveness
of sin. Whatever differences there be be-
tween them, they are not so different but
tliat he who is justified is forgiven. If
therefore we be justified by a mere notion
of the truth antecedently to all exercise of
afl'ection, we are forgiven in the same way ;
that is, our sins are forgiven before we re-
pent of them.

Mr. Sandeman, 1 conceive, would hav^e
avowed this consequence. Indeed he does
avow it, in effect, in declaring that "he
can never begin to love God till he first
see him just in justifying him, ungodly as
he stands." If he cannot begin to love
God, he cannot begin to be sorry for hav-
ing sinned against him, unless it be lor the
consequences which it has brouglit upon
himself By being justified "ungodly ius
he stands," he means to say, therefore that
he is justified and forgiven while his mind
is in a state of impenitence, and that it is
the consideration of this that renders him
penitent.

Whether this notion be not in direct o\)-
position to the whole current of both the
Old and New Testament, let the following
passages, out of many more which might
be selected, determine. " I said I will con-
fess my transgressions unto the Lord ; and
thou forgnrest the iniquity of my sin." "If
thy people Israel sin against thee, and re-
pent, and make supplication unto thee to-
wards this house, then hear thou from
heaven thy dwelling place and forgive thy
people." " He that coveretli his sins shall
not prosper; but whoso confesseth and for-
sakclh them shall find mercy." " Let the

PULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

291

wicked forsake his way, and the unrighte-
ous man his thoughts, and let him return
unto the Lord, and he will have mercy up-
on him, and to our God, for he will abun-
dantly pardon." '• Thus it behoved Christ
to sutFer, and to rise from the dead the
third day, and that repentance and remis-
sion of sins should be preached in his
name among all nations, beginning at Je-
rusalem." Repent, theretbre, and be bap-
tized, every one of you, for the remission
of sins." " Repent ye, theretbre, and be
converted, that your sins may be blotted
out." " Him hath God exalted a Prince
and a Saviour, to give repentance to Isra-
el, and the forgiveness of sins." " If we
confess our sins, he is faithful and just to
forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from
all unrighteousness."

I shall not stop here to inquire into the
order in which the scriptures represent re-
pentance toward God, and faith toward our
Lord Jesus Christ. This I shall attend to
in a letter by itself. It is sufficient at pres-
ent to observe that, whatever be the order
of repentance in respect of faith, it is uni-
formly represented in the scriptures as
necessary to forgiveness. Every notion,
therefore, of standing forgiven in a state
of impenitence, and of this being the only
motive that can lead a sinner to repentance,
is false and delusive.

Secondly : On this principle, faith in
Christ is not a duty, and unbelief is not a
sin. I am not sure whether Mr. Sandeman
would have avowed both or either of these
consequences. He, however, utterly disa-
vows urging unbelievers to the least shad
ow of obedience to the gospel in order to
iustification, as leading them to establish
their own righteousness.* The faith, there-
fore, which he allows to be necessary to
justification includes no obedience, which
is the same thing as its being no duty.
And, if it be not a duty, unbelief is not a
sin ; for, where there is no obligation, there
can be no transgression.

But a system which goes to nullify the
command of God to believe in his Son Je-
sus Christ, and to excuse the sin which is
threatened with eternal damnation, must
be fundamentally erroneous, and, as far as
it operates, subversive of true religion.

Mr. M'Lean is very far from admitting
this consequence, though he retains in part
the principle from which it proceeds. He
allows, as we have seen already, that faith
is a duty, an act of obedience to God, and
a holy exercise of mind : yet he pleads for
its containing nothing pertaining to the
will. Is it possible then for any thing to
be either an act, or a duty, or to contain
obedience, which is purely intellectual ? In

' Epistolary correspondence, p. 20.

whatever belongs to the understanding on-
ly, exclusive of the will and afliections, the
soul, I conceive, is passive. There are
acts, no doubt, which pertain to the intel-
lectual, as well as to the visive faculty ; but
they are only such as fall under the influ-
ence of the will. It is an act to look, but
not to see ; and to collect information, but
not to be informed. It; therefore, believing
be an act of the mind, it must fall under
the influence of the will.

Mr. Sandeman is consistent with him-
self, however inconsistent he may be witli
the scriptures. In confining faith to the
understanding, he was aware that he dis-
owned its being an act, and therefore, in
his usual strain of banter, selected some of
the grossest representations of his oppo-
nents, and endeavored to hold up acts of
faith to ridicule. But Mr. M'Lean allows
of faith being an act, and an act of obedi-
ence, and yet will have it that it contains
nothing pertaining to the will, except in its
efiects. I can no otherwise account for
such reasoning, in a writer of his talents,
than by ascribing it to the influence of
early prejudices, contracted by having
drank too deeply into the system of Mr. S.,
and retained by a partiality for what he
has once imbibed, though utterly inconsis-
tent with other sentiments which he has
since learned from the scriptures. That
nothing can contain obedience but that
which includes the state or exercises of
the will, or has some dependence upon it,
is manifest from universal experience.
Tell a man that God has commanded him
to be or to do that in which he is absolute-
ly involuntary, and that the contrary is a
sin, and see whether you can fasten con-
viction on his conscience. Nay, make the
experiment on yourself Did you ever per-
ceive yourself obliged to any thing in which
your will had no concern, or for a moment
repent of living in the neglect of it?
Knowledge may be a duty, and ignorance
a sin, so far as each is independent on the
will, and comprehensive of approbation,
but no further. Lore is the fulfilling of
the law, or that which comprehends the
whole of duty. So much, therefore, as
there is of love, in any exercise of mind,
so much there is of duty or obedience, and
no more. Duty supposes knowledge, in-
deed, as Christianity supposes humanity;
but the essence of it consists in disposition.
It may be our duty to examine, and that
with care, diligence, and impartiality ; but,
if disposition have no place in faith, it can-
not be our duty to believe.

If faith be merely light in the under-
standing, unbelief must be merely the ab-
sence of it; and, if the former include noth-
ing pertaining to the will, neither (iocs the
latter. To say that though unbelief eon-

292

FULLER ON S ANDEM ANI ANISIVT.

lain a voluntary rejection of the truth, yet
faith contains no voluntary reception of it,
is saying that belief and unbelief are not
opposites, which is equal to denying a self-
evident proposition. If the one be purely
intellectual, so is the other ; and, if there be
no obedience in the former, there is no dis-
obedience in the latter.

Mr. M'Lean has said every thing on this
subject that I could desire, except drawing
the conclusion. Thus he reasons, when
proving faith to be a duty: "Unbelief,
which is the opposite of faith, is always
represented as a very great and heinous
sin against God. The unbelieving heart
is termed an evil heart (Heb. iii. 12 ;) and
there are many evils in the heart of man
which both occasion and attend unbelief
It is frequently ascribed to ignorance, (Mat.
xiii. 19; Rom. x. 3; xi. 7, 25;) yet not to
simple ignorance, from want of information
or natural capacity, in which case it would
be excusable, (John ix. 41 ; xv. 22, 24 ;)
but such as arises from the agency of the
god of this world, blinding the minds of
them that believe not. 2 Cor. iv. 4. It is
wilful ignorance, occasioned by their loving
darkness and hating the light, (John iii. 19,
20 ;) and so they are represented as having
closed their eyes lest they should see.
Matt. xiii. 15. From this it appears that
unbelief is founded, not merely on simple
ignorance, but aversion from the things of
God.

" Now, if unbelief be a sin, and seated
in the depravity of the heart, as has been
shown, it necessarily follows that faith, its
opposite, must be a duty," [and have its
seat also in the heart.] Sermons, pp. 40,
41. The words added in crotchets merely
go to draw the conclusion ; and whether it
be fairly drawn let the reader judge.

Mr. M. cannot consistently object that,
by allowing unbelief to be seated in the
heart, he did not mean to grant that it was
seated in the Avill, since his whole argu-
ment asserts the contrary ; and he else-
where says, " The scriptures always rep-
resent the regenerating and sanctifying
influences of the Spirit as exerted upon
the heart ; which includes not only the un-
derstanding, but the will and affections, or
the prevalent inclinations and dispositions
of the soul." — Works, vol. ii. p. 91.

I had said, (in my Appendix,) "I can
scarcely conceive of a truth more self-evi-
dent than this, that God's commands extend
only to that which comes under the influ-
ence of the will," Mr. M. allows this to be
" a principle on which my main arguments
seem to be gronnded." It became him.
therefore, if he were able, to give it a solid
answer. And Avhat is his answer? It is
BO far, he says, from being self-evident, that
to him it does not appear evident at all.

He should instance, then, in something
which is allowed not to come under the
influence of the will, but which, neverthe-
less, is a duty. Instead of this, he says
the commands of God " extend not only to
what comes under the influence of the will,
but also to the belief of the revealed truths
and motives by which the will itself is iu'-
fluenced." Reply, p. 70. But who does
not perceive that this is proving a thing by
itself; or alleging as evidence that which
is the very point in dispute?

The argument was this : All duty comes
under the influence of the will — But faith
is a duty — Therefore faith comes under the
influence of the will. To have overturned
the first of these propositions, which is tliat
which he calls in question, he should have
shown by something else than belief, some-
thing that is allowed not to come under
the influence of the will, that it may, nev-
ertheless, be commanded of God. But
this he has not shown, nor attempted to
show.

All that Mr. M'Lean has done towards
answering this argument is by laboring to
fasten certain absurdities upon it. " If be-
lieving God with the understanding," he
says, " be not a duty, it must be either be-
cause he has not given a clear revelation
of the truth, and supported it Avith sufficient
evidence, or if he has, that there is no mor-
al turpitude in mental error." — p. 76.

By this way of writing, it would seem
as if I pleaded for men's believing without
their understanding, of which I certainly
have no idea, any more than of their dis-
believing without it. I hold no more in re-
spect of faith than Mr. M. does in respect
of unbelief; namely, that it does not per-
tain to the understanding only. The great-
est evidence or authority cannot oblige us
to that in Avhich we are absolutely involun-
tary. God commands us to love him with
all our powers, hut not beyond our powers.
To love him with all our hearts includes
every thing that depends upon disposition,
even the bowing of our understandings to
revealed truth, inst(!ad of proudly rejecting
it ; but that is all. So far as knowledge or
belief is absolutely involuntary, we might
as welt ascribe duty to the comailsive mo-
tions of the body as to them. And as to
" mental error." if it could be proved to be
merely mental, that is, not to arise from in-
dolence, prejudice, aversion, or any other
evil disposition, it would be innocent. Christ
did not criminate the Jews for simply mis-
understanding him, but refers to the cause
of that misunderstanding as the ground of
censure. '• Why do ye not understand my
speech ? becanse ye cannot hear my word .•"
that is because ihey were utterly averse
from it. Mr. M'Lean acknowledges as
much as thisj when he speaks of the neglect

rULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

293

of the great salvation being the effect of
perverseness and aversion, and therefore
inexcusable." What is this but admitting
that if it arose from simple ignorance it
would be excusable ?

Another consequence which Mr. M. en-
deavors to fasten upon this principle is,
" If faith be not a duty unless it be influen-
ced by the moral state of the heart, then it
can be no man's duty to believe the testi-
mony of God concerning his Son till he is
previously possessed of that moral state."-y
p. 73. But if this consequence were just, it
would follow from his own principles as
well as mine. He considers the illumina-
tion of the Holy spirit as necessary to be-
lieving, but does he infer that till such il-
lumination take place it is not a sinner's
duty to believe 7 He also considers repent-
ance as the fruit of faith ; but does he in-
fer that till a sinner is in possession of faith
it is not his duty to repent? The truth is
that God, in requiring any one duty (be it
repentance or faith, or what it may,) re-
quires that as to the state of the mind,
which is necessary to it. It was not the duty
of Absalom to ask pardon of David without
feeling sorry for his offence : but it does not
follow that while his heart was hardened
he was under no obligation to ask pardon.
He was under obligation to both ; and so are
men with regard lo beheving the gospel.
They are obliged to be of an open, upright,
unprejudiced mind, and so to believe the
truth.

If faith be a duty, believing is a holy ex-
ercise of the mind ; for what else is holiness
but a conformity of mind to the revealed
will of God? Mr. M. allows of a belief
which is " merely natural," and that it has
" no holiness in it." He also allows that
that which has the promise of salvation is
holy. So far then we seem to be agreed.
Yet, when he comes to state wherein its
holiness consists, he seems to resolve every
thing into the cause, and the nature of the
truth believed — p. 57. Each of these, in-
deed, afibrdsproofofthe holy nature of faith;
but to say that it consists in either is to
place the nature of a thing in its cause, and
in the object on which it terminates. The
objects of belief are exactly the same as
those of unbelief; but itwill not be alleged, I
presume, that unbelief is a holy exercise !

The sum is, Mr. M. thinks he ascribes
duty and holiness to faith ; but his hypo-
thesis is inconsistent with both. And this
is all that I ever meant to charge him with.
It never was in my heart to "impeach his
honesty," (p. 64,) though he has more than
onfc impeached mine.

Thirdly : On this principle, calls, invi-
tations, and exhortations to believe have
no place in the Christian ministry. To call,
invite, or exhort a man to that in which his

will has no concern is self-evident absurdity.
Every man must feel it, if he only make
the experiment. Mr. Sandeman is aware
of this, and therefore utterly gives up the
practice, declaring that the whole of what
he has to offer is evidence. He says, " I
would set before him (the sinner) all the
evidence furnished me by the gospel. Thus
and thus only, would I press, call, invite,
exhort, or urge him to believe."* That is,
he would not press, call, invite, exhort, or
urge him to believe at all. So far he is
consistent with himself, though at the ut-
most variance with the scriptures.

God, however, by the prophets and apos-
tles, did not barely ofler evidence, but ad-
dressed every power and passion of the hu-
man mind. Mr. Sandeman may call this
" human clamor, pressing men on to the
blind business of performing some task call-
ed believing ;" but this will prove nothing
but his dexterity, when pressed with an ar-
gument which he cannot answer, at turning
it off by raillery. The clamor of the proph-
ets and apostles was such as follows : " Kiss
the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish
from the way." " Ho, every one that thirst-
eth, come ye to the waters, and he that
hath no money ; come ye, buy and eat ;
yea come, buy wine and milk without mo-
ney, and without price. Wherefore do ye
spend money for that which is not bread,
and your labor for that which satisfieth not ?
Hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that
which is good, and let your soul delight it-
self in fatness. Incline your ear and come
unto me ; hear and your soul shall live ;
and I will make an everlasting covenant
with you even the sure mercies of David."

If this figurative language should be
thought to leave the subject in doubt, the
following verses express the same senti-
ments without a figure : " Seek ye the Lord
while he may be found ; call ye upon him
v/hile he is near ; let the wicked forsake
his way, and the unrighteous man his
thoughts ; and let him return unto the
Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ;
and to our God, for he will abundantly par-
don." " Look unto me, and be ye saved,
all the ends of the earth ; for I am God,
and there is none else." " Thus saith the
Lord, Stand ye in the ways and see, and
ask for the old paths, where is the good
way, and walk therein, and ye shall find
rest for your souls." " Come unto me all
ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I
will give you rest. Take my yoke upon
you, and learn of me ; for I am meek and
lowly in heart : and ye shall find rest unto
your souls." " Repent ye, and believe the
gospel." " Ho every one that thirsfeth, let
iiim come unto me and drink !" " While

■ Epistolary CorrcEpondence p. 8.

294

FULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

ye have the light, beheve in the light, that
ye miiy be the children of light." '■ I-.abor
not for the meat that perisheth, but for that
which endureth to everlasting life." " Com-
pel them to come in, that my house may be
lilled." " Repent and be converted, that
your sins may be blotted out." " Draw
nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you.
Cleanse your hand.s ye sinners ; and purify
your hearts, ye double-minded. Be afflict-
ed, and mourn, and weep." " Humble
yourselves in the sigiit of the Lord, and he
shall lift you up." " All things are of God,
who hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus
Christ, and hath given to us the ministry
of reconciliation." " Now then we are am-
bassadors for Christ, as though God did
beseech (men) by us, we pray (them) in
Christ's stead (sayins) be ye reconciled to
God."

Mr. Sandeman may tell us that the char-
acter of ambassadors does not belong to or-
dinary ministers, and may attribute the in-
vitations used in the present day to " priest-
ly pride, and strutting self importance :"
but this will only prove that he has reason-
ed himself into a situation from which he
has no other way of extricating himself than
by having recourse to abuse instead of ar-
gument. What does it avail him, whether
ordinary ministers be ambassadors for
Christ, or not? If faith be a mere pa.ssive
reception of the truth, it were as improper
for the apostles to beseech sinners to be re-
conciled to God, as for ordinary ministers
to do so. Extracydinary powers could not
render that consistent which is in itself ab-
surd.

But I need say the less on this head as
Mr. M-Lean in the First Part of his
llwii<Tlits on the Calls ami Invitations of
the. Gospel, has not only alleged the forego-
ing passages, with others, but shown their
connection and pertinency to the point at
issue. Suffice it for me to say that a sys-
tem which requires the disuse of the most
distinguished means pertaining to the min-
istry of the word must be fundamentally
erroneous, and of a tendency to render the
good news of salvation of none effect*

* It heeoiiies trie here to acknowledge tliaf. in the Ap-
pnmlix to iJie last edition of The Go.ipel Worthy of alt
Acccpttiliun, I was guilty of an oversight, in atlribiitin^
many of the forenoing sfintinients to Mr. M'Lean, wliicli
did not belona to him. This mis-slafeinent was owinj; to
jjiy havine, at the time, entirely forgot his piece on thn
Calls of the Ciuspnl, and my ronsiilorin!; an anonymnns
performance, entitled Simple Truth, written by a Mr.
Bernard, as his. It is true I liad the means of knowing'
better, and should have been more attentive to thcin : hi
this, however lay the whole of my fault. It never was
my desi'jn, for a moment, to iin'srepresent .Mr. M. or any
other man; nor did lever foel the least reluctance to
make the most e.rplicit acknowledgment.

I may add, though 1 am sorry that I mistook him, yet
lam ulad 1 was mistaken. 'J'he dilference between us
is so much the l<'ss, wlucli, to any one who wishes to
unite with all who love the f.ord .lesus Chri.^t in sinceri-
ty, as Car ris njssi'jl'', must afTorJ a doyree of salisljctioa.

" To urge unbelievers," saye Mr. Sande-
man, " to any shadow ot' obedience to the
gospel, as preparative to justification by
faith, can have no other effect than to lead
them to establish their own righteousness,
and to stand in awe of the preacher."* Obe-
dience to the gospel, in Mr. Sandemun's
view, is the ^"ec^ of faith ; the scriptures,
however, as we have seen, make faiih itself
to be obedience, and unbelief to be disobe-
dience. If, by "preparative," he means any
thing which contributes to the ground or
reason oi' ju-stification, what he says of it3
sell-righteous tendency is true ; and the
same would be true of his '• notion," or
" bare belief ;" but to represent obedience
to the gospel as necessary in the establish-
ed order of things to justification is to repre-
sent it according to the whole current of
scripture, as is manifest irom the foregoing
passages ; and this can have no self-right-
eous tendency.

He that believeth worketh not in respect
of justification. He does not deserve what
he obtains, but receives it as a free gift ;
and it is of the nature of faith so to receive
it. We can distinguish between a man
who lives by his labors and one that lives by
alms ; and, without denying that the latter
is active in receiving them, can clearly dis-
cern that his mode of living is directly op-
posed to that of the other. He that should
contend that living by alms actively receiv-
ed was the same thing as living by works
would not be reckoned a reasoner but a
driveller.

To set ourselves against the practice of
the prophets and apostles in order to sup-
port the freeness of justification, is support-
ing the ark with unhallowed hands ; or, as
Mr. M'Lean expresses it, replying against
God. " Cannot the wicked," continues he,
" be exhorted to believe, repent, and seek
the Lord; and be encouraged to this by a
promise of success, (Isa. Iv. 6, 7,) without,
making the success to depend on human
merit ? Are such exhortations and promis-
es always to be suspected of having a dan-
gerous and self-righteous tendency? In-
stead of taking them in their plain and
simple sense, must our main care always
be to guard against some supposed self-
righteous use of them, till we have explain-
ed away their whole force and spirit, and
so distinguished and refined upon them as
to make men more afraid to comply with
them than to reject them, lest they should
be guilty of some exertion of mind or body,
some good disposition or motion towards
Christ which is supposed to be the highest
wickedness and a despising of the work of
Christ ?"t

' Fnistolary (correspondence, p. i.i.
t^Tlioiighls on Calls, &c., p. o'j.

FULLER ON S ANDEM ANI ANI SM.

295

I can assure you that, while I feel sorry
to have mistaken Mr. M'Lean on this sub-
ject, I am not a Utile happy in being able
to make such important extracts as the
above from his writings. Yet, when I
think of some of the principles which he
still avows, I feel concerned at what appears
to me his inconsij^tency ; and not merely
his, but that of many others whom I sincere-
ly esteem.

If, after what has jmssed, I could hope
for a candid attention, I would entreat Mr.
M. and others like-minded with him, to
consider whether that practical neglect of
calls and invitations to the unconverted
which is said to prevail wherever these sen-
timents are imbibed, and which he almost
acknowledges to have attended his own
ministry, has not arisen from his cause.*
So long as he considers faith as something
in which the will is concerned, instead of
my being surprised at his feeling a difficul-
ty in carrying the principles pleaded for in
his Thoughts on ihe Calls of the Gospel in-
to execution, I should be much more sur-
prised at the contrary. If he be able to ex-
hort sinners to repent and believe the gospel,
it is more than I should be with his profess-
ed principles. So far as I know myself I
could not possibly call or invite any man to
that in which his will had no concern, with-
out feeling at the same time that I insulted
him.

It may seem a little remarkable that this
system, and that of the high or Hyper-Cal-
vinists in England, which in almost all oth-
er things are opposite, should on this point
be agreed. The one confines believing to
the understanding, the other represents sin-
ners, awakened sinners at least, as being
willing to believe, but unable to do so, any
more than to take wings and fly to heaven.
Hence neither of them holds it consistent to
call on sinners to believe in Christ, nor is it
consistent with their principles ; but how it
is that they do not perceive, by the uniform
practice of Christ and his apostles, that
these principles are antiscriptural, I cannot
otherwise account for than by ascribing it
to the perverting influence of hypothesis.

LETTER IV.

On the faith of devils and nominal Chris-
tians.

You are aware that the apostle James
speaks of some whose faith was dead, being

His wonts arc, " Tlowevei- negliimif I ni.iv be in nr;;-
iii2 sinners to ropentaurc, it l,as always been luv Hnii
bfliel that nol only llic uiicnnverlcil, bnt even lli'e ( nn
v.-rtcfl themselves, ncort often to be called lo lepent.incc
and that in order to lorfe'lvenosB." Keply, p. oG.

alone ; and that, in answer to their boast-
ings, he reminded them that the devils also
believed and trembled. Hence, it has been
generally thought, there must be an essen-
Fial difference between the nature of the
faith of nominal Christians and devils on
the one hand and that of true Christians
on the other. But this would overturn a
leading principle of the Sandemanian sys-
tem. Its advocates, therefore, have gener-
ally conteitded that, "whosoever among
men believes what devils do, about the Son
of God, is born of God and shall be sav-
ed ;"* and that the design of the apostle was
not to compare but rather to contrast it with
that of the nominal Christian ; the latter as
having no effect on the mind, the former as
causing its subjects to tremble. It has also
been commonly maintained, on that side of
the question, that the faith of whicli the
apostle James speaks, instead of being of a
ditfcrent nature from that of true Christians,
was in reality nothing but profession, or
" saying I have faith." " The design of the
apostle," it has been said, " is to represent
that faith, whether it be on earth or in hell,
if it really existed and was not merely pre-
tended or professed, was always productive
of corresponding works."

As the whole argument seems to rest up-
on the question whether the faith of nonu-
nal Christians be here compared to that of
devils or contrasted with it, and as the solu-
tion of this question involves a fundamental
principle of the system, it is worthy of a par-
ticular examination.

The words of the apostle are as follows :
" What doth it profit, my brethren, though
a man say he hath faith and have not
works ? Can taith save him ? If a broth-
er or sister be naked and destitute of daily
food, and one of you say unto them, Depart
in peace, be ye warmed and filled ; notwith-
standing ye give them not those things
which are needful to the body ; wliat doth
it profit? Even so faith, if it hath not
works, is dead, being alone." '' Yea, a man
may say, Thou hast faith and I have
works ; show me thy I'aith without thj- works,
and I will show thee my faith by my works.
Thou believest that there is one God ; thou
doest well : the devils also believe and trem-
ble. But wilt thou know, O vain man, that
faith without works is dead."

If the ilesign be to contrast the faith of
devils with that of nominal Christians, the
apostle must undoubtedly mean to render
the latter a nonentity, or a mere pretence,
and to hold up the Ibrmer as a reality ; and,
what is more, to represent the " trembling"
of the iallen sjnrits as a s])ecies of good
fruit, good at least in its nature, and want-
ing nothing to render it saving but the cir-

• i;ckiji£;-.-,K>^:;ayb,p. 117.

296

FULLER ON S AN DEM ANI AN ISM.

cumsiantial interference of a more favora-
ble situation.

To tliis view of the passage I have sev
eral objections.

First: The apostle does not treat the
faith of nominal Christians as a nonentity,
but as something which existed, though
void of Hie, as " a dead body without the
8pirit." On the principle here opposed
there is no such a thing as a dead taith ;
that which is so called being mere pretence.
The party is, indeed, represented as say-
ing he has faith, but the same may be al-
leged of the true Christian with respect to
works, James, ii. 18. If hence, the faith of
the one be considered as a nonentity, the
works of the other must be the same.

Secondly : The place in which the faith
of devils is introduced proves that it is for
the purpose of comparison and not of con-
trast. If it had been for the latter it should
have been introduced in verse IS, and class-
ed with the operative belief of true Chris
tians, rather than in verse 19, where it is
classed with that of nominal Christians.
The argument then would have been this :
" Show me thy faith without thy works, and
I will show thee my faith by my works : the
devils believe and tremble ; but thou believ-
est and tremblest not : therefore thy faith is
a mere pretence.

Thirdly : The copulative particle " also,"
instead of the disjunctive, determines it to
be a comparison and not a contrast. If it
were the latter, the argument requires it to
have been thus expressed : " Thou believ-
est there is one God ; thou doest well : but
the devils believe and tremble." If xal be
rendered and or even, instead of also, as it
often is, yet the meaning is the same
" Thou believest there is one God : thou
doest well ; and the devils believe and trem
ble ; or even the devils believe and trem-
ble." None of these forms of expression
conveys the idea of contrast but of likeness.

Judge, my friend, and iet the reader judge,
whether the meaning of the apostle be not
expressed in the following paraphrase:
Show me, if thou canst, a faith which is of
any value without works, and I will show
thee a faith which is of value by its fruits.
Thou believest that there is one God ; a
great matter truly ! and may not the same
be said of the worst of beings ! yea, and
more : for they, having felt the power of
God's anger, not only believe but tremble ;
whereas thy faith suffers thee to live at
ease. But as theirs, with all their tremb-
ling, is of no account, neither is thine ; for
faith without holy fruits is dead.

If the language of the apostle may be un-
derstood as a contra.'it, it may be used to
express that whicli subsists between other
things that differ as well as these. For ex-
ample : Between the faith of Christians and

that of Jews. But the absurdity of this
would strike any reader of common discern-
ment. " Thou believest that there is one
God; thou doest well :" Christians a/so be-
lieve and obey ! To make sense of it. it
should be. But Christians believe and obey.
On the other hand, make an experiment in
an instance of likeness, and the language is
plain and easy. One boasts that he is not
a heathen, nor a Jew, nor a deist, but a
Christian ; while yet he is under the domin-
ion of avarice. A man might say to him,
" Thou believest there is one God, thou
doest well :" Felix the heathen was so far
convinced of this, and, what is more, tremb-
led: yet Felix's convictions were of no val-
ue, and brought forth no good fruit ; neither
are thine, for faith without works is dead.

There is no reason to conclude that the
faith and trembling of devils differ in any
thing, except in degree, from the conviction
and trembling of Felix : If, therefore the
former would in our circumstances have ter-
minated in salvation, why did not the latter,
whose situation was sufficiently favorable,
so terminate ? The convictions of James'
nominal Christians might not be so strong
as those of Felix ; and his might not be so
strong as those of the fallen angels : but in
their nature they were one and the same.
The first was convinced that there was one
God ; but it was mere light without love.
If, like what is said of the stony-ground
hearers, a portion of joy at first attended it,
yet, the gospel having no root in his mind,
and being in circumstances wherein he saw
no remarkable displays of the divine maj-
esty, it made no durable impression upon
him. The second might also be convinced
that there was a God, and neither were his
convictions accompanied by love, but " right-
eousness, temperance, and a judgment to
come," being set before him, he " tremb-
led." The last are convinced of the same
truth and neither are their convictions ac-
companied by love ; but. being placed in
circumstances wherein the awful majesty
of God is continually before their eyes, they
already know in part, by sad experience,
the truth of his threatenings, and tremble in
expectation of greater torments.

There is just as much holiness in each of
these cases as in ihe trembling of an im-
penitent malefactor under the g-allows. To
reckon it in any of them, therefore, among
" the corresponding fruits which always at-
tend faith if it really exists," is to reckon as
fruit that which the scriptures reject as un-
worthy of the name. Of the four sorts of
hearers, only one brought forth fruit.

It is remarkable that Mr. M'Lean, af-
ter what he has written, when discoursing
on the parable of the sower, particularly on
those who are said to have "believed lx)r a
while," should introduce the following sen-

FULLER ON S ANDEM ANI ANI SM,

297

timent in the form of an objection : — " Such
as fall away have never been enlightened
in the knowledge of the truth, nor really be-
lieved the gospel ; but had only professed
to believe." His answer to this objection
18 still more remarkable. " The scripture,"
he says, "Supposes them to have been
•once enlightened ; to have received the
knowledge of the truth, and of the way of
righteousness; to have believed ibr a while ;
and to have escaped the pollutions of the
world through the knowledge of our Lord
and Saviour Jesus Christ. See Heb. vi.
4; X. 26. Luke viii. 13. 2 Peter ii. 20
And their falling away after such attain-
ments is that which constitutes the very sin
of apostacy and by whicti the guilt of it is
aggravated. For it had been better for
them not to have known the way of right-
eousness, than after they have known it to
'turn from the holy commandment delivered
■unto them." — Sermons, p. 66.

All this I account very good, though I
should not have expected it from Mr. M.
But his refusing after this to admit an es-
sential difference between the faith of the
apostates and that of true believers is most
remarkable of all. If the ditference lie not
in the nature of their faith, nor in the nature
■of the things believed, against which he also
reasons, where does it lie ? They must one
would think, have been true believers so far
■as they went, and so long as they continue
to believe ; and their falling away must af-
ford an exa'mple of the aposta<^y of true be-
lievers. Bvit, if a person may be a true be-
■liever at one time and an apostate at another,
he can have no scriptural ground at any
period of his life, from any consciousness of
believing the gospel, to conclude on his own
particular salvation. Yet this is what Mr.
M. has pleaded for in his treatise on the
Commission. Moreover, if there be not an
essential difference between the nature of
the faith of apostates, and that of true be-
lievers, why does he himself when describ-
ing them, write as follows ? " Whatever
appearances of faith there may be in false
professors, they have not the same percep-
tion of the truth, nor that persuasion of it
lupon its proper evi<ience, which real believ-
ers have." — Works, Vol. II. p. 96. I do not
say of Mr. M., as he does of me, that " he
«an take either side of the question as he
finds occasion :" b-ut this I say, he appears
to me to feel the force of some truths which
do not well comport with some of his for-
mer reasonings; and not being able, it
should seem, to reconcile them, he leaves
them unreconciled.

Surely it were more agreeable lo the
truth, and to the passages on which he dis-
courses, to admit of an essential differ-
ence between the faith of nominal and real
Christians. In discoursing on the " 2ood

Vol. S.—Ll.

ground" in the parable, he very properly
represents true believers, and them only, as
being "taught by the special illuminating
influences of the Holy Spirit ;" but surely
that which is the fruit of this special influ-
ence possesses a special nature. Why else
do we read that " that which is born of the
Spirit is spirit?" and why does it denomin-
ate a man spiritual? 1 Cor. ii. 15. We
may not, as he says, be " able to distin-
guish, in the first impressions of the gospel,
the faith of a stony-ground hearer from that
of a true believer ;" but it does not follow
that there is not an essential difierence not-
withstanding.

The unrenewed character, with all his
knowledge, knoweth nothing as he ought to
know. He perceives not the intrinsic evil
of sin, and, consequently, discerns not the
intrinsic excellence of the knowledge of
Christ. That in the gospel which pleases
him is its giving relief to his troubled con-
science. Hence " all his godliness," as Mr.
Sandeman says, " consists in love to that
which first relieved him."

We have been told more than once that
" there need be no question about how we
believe, but what we believe." Mr. M'Lean
will answer this, that " the matter or object
of belief, even in apostates, is said to be the
word of the kingdom ; the truth ; the way
of righteousness ; the Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ ; and what other object of faith
have true believers ?" — Sermons, pp. 66, 67.

I have no objection to allowing, however,
that, if we believe the very truth as it is in
Jesus, there can be nothing wanting in the
manner of believing it. B'jt though this be
true, and though an inquirer after the waj'-
of salvation ought to be directed to the sav-
ing doctrine of the cross, rather than to the
workings of his own mind concerning it, yet
there is in the workings of a believer's mind
towards it something essentially different
from those of the merely nominal Christian ;
and which, when the inquiry comes to be,
" Am I a believer ?" ought to be pointed
out. He not only believes truths which the
other does not, but believes the same truths
in a different manner. In other words, he
believes them on different grounds, and with
different affections. That which he know-
eth is, in measure, " as he ought to know
it." He discerns spiritual things in a spir-
itual manner ; which is the only manner in
which they can be discerned as they are.

It might be said there need be no ques-
tion about hoxD we repent, or hope, or love,
or pray ; but what we repent of, what we
hope for, w hat we love, and what we pray
for. And true it is, that if we repent of sia
as sin, hope for the things which the gospel
promises, love the true character of God
and all that bears his image, and pray lor
those things which are according to his will.

298

FULLER ON S AND E M AN I ANI SM.

there will be nothing wanting as to the
manner : but it does not follow that there is
no difference as to the manner ol" these ex-
ercises in true Christians and in merely
nominal ones. Our being right as to the
objects may be a pToof o( our being right as
to the manner, as the needle's pointing to
the magnet proves the correspondence of
the nature of the one with that of the other :
but, as in this case we should not say it is
of no account whether the needle be made
of steel or of some other substance, so that
it points to the magnet, neither in the other
should we consider the nature of spiritual
exercises as a matter of no account, but
merely the objects on which they termin-
ate.

When we read concerning the duty of
prayer that " the Lord is nigh unto all that
call upon himin truth,^^ and that " we know
not what to pray for (is ice otight" we infer
that there is something in the nature of a
good man's prayers which distinguishes
them from other. But there is just the same
reason for inferring that there is something
in the nature of a good man's knowledge
which distinguishes it from that of otiiers ;
for, as he only that is assisted by the Holy
Spirit prays as he ought, so he only that is
taughtof God knoweth any thing as he ought
to know.

The holy nature of living faith may be
difficult, and even impossible, to be ascer-
tained but by its effects ; as it is difficult, if
not impossible, to distinguish some seeds
from others till they have brought forth
their respective fruits ; but a difference
there is, notwithstanding. If there need be
no inquiry as to the nature of lUith, but
merely concerning its objects, how was it
that the Corinthians, who by their unwor-
thy spirit and conduct, had rendered their
being Christ's disciples indeed a matter of
doubt, should be told to exavune themselves
whether they were in the faith, and should
be furnished with this criterion, that if they
were true believers, and not reprobates, or
such as would be disapproved as dross, Je-
sus Christ was in them ? On ihe principle
here opposed they should have examined.
not themselves, but merely their creed, or
what they believed, in order to know wheth-
er they were in the faith.

If the faith of devils would have issued
in their salvation, provided, like us, they
had been placed in circumstances of hope,
it will follow that (aiih is not produced by
the grace of the Holy Spirit, but merely by
Divine Providence. No one, I presume,
will ascribe tiie belief of devils to the Holy
Spirit: whatever they believe must be ow-
ing to the situation in which they are placed,
and the circumstances attending them.
But, if faith may be tlie mere effect of situa-
tion and circumstances in oiie case, why

not in another ? Sandemanians have often
been charged with setting aside the work
of the Spirit, and have often denied the
charge : but, whatever may be said of their
other principles, their notion of the faith of
devils must sap the foundation of that im-
portant doctrine. If this notion be true, all
that is necessary is that the party be placed
under the influence of truth clearly staled
and sufficiently impressive, and within the
limits of the promise of salvation. AH the
change, therefore, which is necessary to
eternal life may be wrought by only a prop-
er adjustment of moral causes. Only place
mankind in circumstances in which their
minds shall be impressed with terror equal
to that of the fallen angels, and let the
promise of salvation to believers be contin-
ued as it is, and all would be saved. And,
with respect to the fallen angels themselves,
only extend to them the promise to believ-
ers, and they are at once in a state of sal-
vation. Such on this hypothesis, would
have been the happy condition of both men
and devils : but the hope of mercy and the
sense of wrath are both rendered abortive
for want of being united. Providence pla-
ces sinners on earth under the hope of sal-
vation ; but then they are not in circum-
stances sufficiently impressive, and so it
comes to nothing. In hell the circumstan-
ces are sufficiently impressive, and they
actually believe ; but then there is no hope,
and so again it comes to nothing !

Surely the parable of the rich man and
Lazarus might suffice to teach us the insuf-
ficiency of all means to bring sinners to God,
when we are assured that if they believed
not Moses and the prophets, neither would
they be persuaded though one should
rise from the dead. I am far from accusing
all who have pleaded for the faith of devils
being such as would be saving in our
circumstances as designing to undermine
the work of the Spirit ; but that such is its
tendency is, I presume, sufficiently manifest.

Nor is this all : not only is the influence
of the Spirit set aside, in favor of the mere
influence of moral suasion, but the fruits of
the Spirit are made to consist of that which
is the ordinary effect of such influence.
" When any person on earth," it has been
said, " believes .fesus (who is now invisible)
with equal assurance as the devils, he re-
joices in hope, is animated by love to him,
and feels disposed to obey his will, and to
resist his own evil inclinations."

There are, I grant, sensations in the hu-
man mind which arise merely from the in-
fluences of hope and fear, and which bear
a near resemblance to the fruits of the Spir-
it; but they are not the same. The judg-
ments of God inflicted upon the carnal Is-
raelites in the wilderness caused the survi-
vors to tremble, and wrought in them a

FULLER ON 3 AND E M ANI A N I SM.

299

great care to be more religious, and to re-
sist tlieir evil inclinations. " When he slew
them, then they sought him; and they re-
turned early afier God ; they remembered
that God was their Rock, and the high
God their Redeemer." Such was the
effect of moral influence, or of the word
and works of God ; but what follows ?
" Nevertheless they did flatter him with
their mouth, and they lied unto him with
their tongues ; for their heart was not right
with him, neither were they steadfast in his
covenant." Thus on the approach of death,
we still see men greatly affected. Light as
they may have made of religion before,
they now believe enough to make them
tremble. At such times it is common for
them to think how good they would be, and
what a different lite they would lead, if it
would please God to restore them. And,
should a favorable turn be given to their
affliction, they are affected in another way ;
they weep, and thank God for their hopes
of recovery, not doubting but they shall be-
come other men. But I need not tell you.
or the reader, that all this may consist with
a heart at enmity with the true character
of God, and that it frequently proves so,
by their returning as soon as the impression,
subsides, to their old courses. The whole
of this process may be no more than an
operation of self-love, or, as Mr. Sandeman
calls it, " a love to that which relieves them
which is something at a great remove from
the love of God, and therefore is not " god
liness." Godliness has respect to God, and
not merely to our own relief. The distress
of an ungodly mind, consisting only in a
fearful apprehension of consequences may
be relieved by any thing that furnishes him
with a persuasion of the removal of those
consequences. It may be from an idea that
he has performed the conditions of salva-
tion ; or from an impulse that his sins are
forgiven ; or from his imagining that he
"sees God just in justifying him, ungodly
as he stands." Any of these considera-
tions will give relief; and no man will be
so wanting to himself as not to ='love that
which relieves him." There may be some
difference in these causes of relief: the for-
mer may be derived from something in our-
selves ; and the latter may seem to arise
from what Christ has done and suffered :
but, if the undertaking of Christ be merely
viewed as a relief to a sinner, we overlook
its chief glory ; and the religion that arises
from such views is as false as the views
themselves are partial.

The first idea in the doctrine of the cross
is, " Glory to God in the highest?'' Its pro-
claiming '■'pence on earth, and good will to
7nen,'" is consequent on this. But that wliich
occupies the first place in the doctrine itself
must occupy the first place in the belief of it.

The faith of the gospel corresponds with the
gospel : " So we preached, and so ye believ-
ed." God will assert his own glory, and we
must subscribeto it, before we areallowedto
ask or hope for the forgiveness of our sins ;
as is clearly taught us in what is called the
Lord's prayer. He, therefore, that views
the cross of Christ merely as an expedient
to relieve the guilty, or only subscribes to
the justice of God in his condemnation,
when conceiving himself delivered from it,
has yet to learn the first principles of Chris-
tianity. His rejoicing in the justice of God,
as satisjied by the death of Christ, while he
hates it in itself considered, is no more than
rejoicing in a dreaded tyrant being appeas-
ed, or somehow diverted from coming to
hurt him. And shall we call this the love
of God? To make our deliverance from
divine condemnation the condition of our
subscribing to the justice of it proves, be-
yond all contradiction, that we care only
for ourselves, and that the love of God ia
not in us. And herein, if I may adopt Mr.
Sandeman's term consists the very " poison"
of his system, it is one of the many devi-
ces for obtaining relief to the mind, without
justifying God, and falling at the feet of the
Saviour ; or which is the same thing, with-
out " repentance toward God, and faith to-
ward our Lord Jesus Christ."

The doctrine of the cross presupposes the
equity and goodness of the divine law, the
exceeding sinfulness of sin, the exposedness
of the sinner to God's righteous curse, and
his utter insufliciency to deliver his soul.
To believe this doctrine, therefore, must
needs be to subscribe with our very heart to
these principles, as they respect ourselves;
and so to receive salvation as being what
it is, a message of pure grace, through a
mediator. Such a conviction as this never
possessed the mind of a fallen angel, nor of
a fallen man untaught by the special grace
of God.

LETTER V.

071 the connection between repentance to-
ward God and faith toward our Lord
Jesus Christ.

The advocates of this system do not con-
sider the order in which these graces are
ordinarily introduced in the New Testa-
ment as being the true order of nature, and
therefore generally reverse it, putting iaith
before repentance, and invariably placing
repentance among the effects of faith. A
sinner, therefore, has no spiritual sense
of the evil of sin, till he has believed in the
Saviour, and stands in a justified state.
Tiien, being forgiven all trewpas-^es, and re-
conciled to God tlirough llie death of his
Son, he is melteJ into repentance.

BOO

FULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

The question is not whether the gospel,
when received by faith, operates in this
way ; for of this there can be no doubt.
Nothing produces godly sorrow for sin lilie
a believing view of the suflering Saviour.
Nor is it denied that to be grieved for hav-
ing dishonored God we must first believe
that he is ; and, before we can come to him
in acceptable worship, that through a me-
diator he is '■ the revvarder of them that
diligently seek him." Without a mediator,
repentance, even if it could have existed,
must have been hopeless. I have not such
an idea of the sinner being brought to re-
pentance, antecedently to his believing in
Christ for salvation, as Mr. Sandeman had
of his believing antecedently to repentance.
According to him, he believes and is justi-
fied, not merely considered as ungodly, or
wilhoiitanyconsideration of eodli7iess inhim,
but actually " ungodly as he stands," and
then, and not till then, begins to love God,
and to be sorry for his sin. This is mani-
festly holding up the idea of an impenitent
believer^ though not of one that continues
such. But the antecedency which I ascribe
to repentance does not amount to this. I
have no conception of a sinner being so
brought to repentance as to sustain the
character of a penitent, and still less to ob-
tain the forgiveness of sin, previously to his
falling in with the way of salvation. I be-
lieve it is not possible for a sinner to repent,
and at the same time to reject the Saviour.
The very instant that he perceives the evil
of sin so as to repent of it, he cannot think
of the Saviour without believing in him. I
have, therefore, no notion of a penitent im-
believer. All that I contend for is, that, in
the order of cause and effect, whatever may
be said as to the order of time, repentance
precedes as well as follows the faith of
Christ ; and that faith in Christ cannot ex-
ist without repentance for sin. A sense of
sin appears to me essential to believing in
the Saviour; so much so that, without it,
the latter would not only be a mere " no-
tion," but an essentially defective one.

It is admitted, on both sides, that there is
a priority of one or other of these graces in
the order of nature, so as that one is influ-
enced by the other ; and. if no other priority
were pleaded, neither the idea of a penitent
tinbeliever on the one hand, nor an impeni-
tent believer on the other, would follow ; for
it might still be true, as Mr. M'Lean ac-
knowledges, that " none believe who do not
repent," and, as I also acknowledge, the^t
none repent who, according to the light
they have, do not believe. But if we main-
tain, not only that faith is prior in the order
of nature, but tliat, antecedently to any true
Borrow for sin we must '-see God to be just
in justifying us ungodly as wc stand," this

is clearly maintaining the notion of an ini'
penitent believer.

From these introductory remarks, it will
appear that I have no objection to faith be-
ing considered as contemporary with re-
pentance in the order of time, provided the
latter were made to consist in an acqui-
escence with the gospel-way of salvation, so
far as it is understood ; but, if it be made to
include such a clear view of the gospel as
necessarily brings peace and rest to the
soul, I believe that repentance for ein often
precedes it, even in the order of time.

Such is the connection between repent-
ance and faith in the scriptures that the
one commonly supposes the other. Re-
pentance, when followed by the remission
of sins, supposes faith in the Saviour (Luke
xxiv. 47 ;) and faith when followed with
justification, equally supposes repentance
for sin.

Attempts have been made, by criticising
on the word /jcravoia to explain away, as it
should seem, the proper object of repent-
ance, as if it were a change of mind with
regard to the gospel. " Repentance," says
Mr. S., " is the change of a man's mind to-
love the truth, which always carries in it a
sense of shame and regret at his former op-
position to it."* But this is confoundifig
repentance and faith objectively considered.
The objects of both are so marked in the
apostolic ministry, that one would think
they could not be honestly mistaken. Re-
pentance is toward God, and faith is toward
our Lord Jesus Christ : the one has imme-
diate respect to the Law-giver, the ather to
the Saviour.

It cannot be denied that the order in
which the New Testament commonly pla-
ces repentance and faith is in direct op-
position to what our opponents plead for ;
and, what is more than the former is repre-
sented as influencing the latter. This is
manifest in the following passages : Repent
ye, and believe the gospel." " Testifying
repentance toward God, and faith toward
our Lord Jesus Christ." " They repented
not, that they might believe him." " If God
peradventure might give them repentance
to the acknowledging of the truth." Mr.
Sandeman, Mr. M'L. and all the writers on
that side of the question, very rarely make
use of this language ; and, when they have
occasion to write upon the subject, ordina-
rily reverse it. To accord with their ideas
it should have been said. Believe the gos-
pel and repent. Testifying faith toward
our Lord Jesus Christ, and repentance to-
ward God. They believed not, that they
might repent. If God peradventure may
give them faith to repent.

, * Letters on Tiieion and Aspaaio, p.408L.

FULLER ON S ANDEM ANI ANI SM,

301

To this I add, it is impossible, in the na-
ture of things, to believe the gospel but as
being made sensible of that which renders
it necessary. The guilty and lost state of sin-
ners goes before the revelation of the grace
of the gospel : the latter, therefore, cannot
be understood or believed, but as we are
convinced of the former. There is no
grace in the gospel, but upon the supposi-
tion of the holiness, justice, and goodness
of the law. If God be not in the right, and
we in the wrong; if we have not trans-
gressed without cause, and be not fairly con-
demned, grace is no more grace, but a just
exemption from undeserved punishment.
And, as faith must needs correspond witli
truth, it is impossible that we should believe
the doctrine of salvation by grace in an im-
penitent state of mind, or without feeling
that we have forfeited all claim to the di-
vine favor. We cannot see things but as
they are to be seen : to suppose that we first
believe in the doctrine of free grace, and
tlien, as the effect of it, perceive the evil of
sin, and our just expoeedness to divine
wrath, is like supposing a man first to ap-
preciate the value of a physician, and by
this means to learn that he is sick. .It is
true the physician may visit the neighbor-
hood, or the apartments, of one who is in
imminent danger of death, while he thinks
himself mending every day ; and this cir-
cumstance may be held up by his friends
as a motive to him to consider of his condi-
tion, and to put himself under his care. It
is thus that the coming of Christ, and the
setting up of his spiritual kingdom in the
world, were alleged as motives to repent-
ance, both to Jews and Gentiles. " Repent,
for the kingdom of heaven is at hand."
" Repent ye therefore." " The times past
of this ignorance God winked at ; but now
commandeth all men every where to re
pent" But as it would not follow in the
one case that the sick man could appreci-
ate the value of the physician till he felt his
sickness, neither does it follow in the other
that faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ
precedes such a sense of the evil of sin as
involves the first workings of repentance
toward God.

To argue as some have done, from the
motives of repentance being fetched from
the gospel, that it supposes their believing
the gospel ere they could repent, proves
too much ; for it is not to repentance only,
but to faith, that the coming of Christ's
kingdom is held up as a motive: but, to
say that this supposes their belief of the
gospel, is saying they must believe in order
to believing.

That a conviction of sin (whether it in-
clude the first workings of repentance or
not) is necessary to faith in Christ is a
matter eo evident that those who have de-

claimed most against it have not been able
to avoid such a representation of things.
It is remarkable that, when Mr. Sandeman
comes to describe his " ungodly man," he
always contrives to make him not only full
of distress, but divested of allself-righteoua
pride : he represents him as conceiving that
there are " none more ripe for hell than he,
and as having no hope but in the great pro-
pitiation."* Thus also Mr. Ecking, when
describing a "mere sinner," represents him
as one who "feels himself in a perishing
condition, and is conscious that he deserves
no favor."t

We must not say that repentance, or any
degree of a right spirit, so precedes faith in
Christ as to enter into the nature of it; but,
if we will bat call the sinner by a few hard
names, we may describe him in coming to
the Saviour as sensible of his utter unworthi-
ness, as divested of self-righteousness, and
as ripe for hell in his own eyes ! In short,
we may depict him as the publican who
sought mercy under a humiliating sense of
his utter unworthiness to receive it, so that
we still call him ungodly. And to this we
have no objection, so that it be understood
of the character under which he is justified
in the eye of the Lawgiver ; but, if it be
made to mean that at the time of his justi-
fication he is in heart an enemy of God, we
do not believe it If he be, however, why
do not these writers describe him as an ene-
my ought to be described ? They teach
us elsewhere that " an attachment to self-
righteousness is natural to man as deprav-
ed;" how then came these ungodly men to
be so divested of it ? Why are they not
represented as thinking themselves in a fair
way for heaven, and that if God does not
pardon them he will do them wrong? Such
is the ordinary state of mind of ungodly
men or mere sinners, which is just as oppo-
site to that which they are constrained to
represent as the spirit of the pharisee was
to that of the publican.

Mr. M'Lean will tell us that "this is that
part of the scheme whereby persons, previ-
ously to their believing in Christ, are taught
to extract comfort from their convictions." —
Reply, p. 148. But, whatever Mr. M., may
think or say, I hope others will give me
credit when I declare that we have no idea
of any well grounded comfort being taken
antecedently to believing in Christ. The
publican is described as humbling himself
before God exalted him: but he did not de-
rive comfort from this. If instead of look-
ing to the mercy of God, he had done this,
it would have been a species of pharisaical
self-exaltation. But it does not follow
hence that there was nothing spiritually
good in his self-abasement.

' Letters on Theroii anJ Aspasic, pp. 40, 48.
t Essay F, p. 41.

302

PULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

But Mr. M. " believes a person may be
BO convicted in his conscience as to view
himself merely as a guilty sinner ; that is,
as having no righteousness to recommend
him to the favor of God ; and that under
such conviction his sense of the evil of sin
will not be confined to its punishment ; but
his conscience or moral sense will tell him
that he deserves punishment at the hands
of a righteous God." — p. 149.

Mr. M'Lean admits, then, the necessity
of conviction of sin previously, in the order
of things, to faith in Christ ; only there is
no holiness and consequently no true re-
pentance in it. I have allowed in Letter I.
that many convictions are to be resolved
into the mere operations of an enlightened
conscience and do not issue in true conver-
sion. I may add, I consider all conviction
of sin which does not in its own nature lead
to the Saviour as of this description. It
matters not how deep the distress of a sin-
ner may be, so long as it is accompanied by
an unwillingness to be saved by mere grace
through a mediator, there is no holiness in
it, nor any thing that deserves the name of
repentance. An enlightened conscience, I
allow, will force us to justify God and con-
demn ourselves on many occasions. It was
thus in Pharaoh when he said, " The Lord
is righteous, and I and my people are wick-
ed." And this his sense of the evil of sin
might not be " confined to its 'punishment ;"
his " conscience or moral sense might tell
him that he deserved punishment at the
hand of a righteous God." So far then we
are agreed. But if Pharaoh had had ^just
sense of the evil of sin it would not have
left him where it did. There was an essen-
tial difference between what he saw by the
terrors of God's judgment and what Paul
saw when " sin by the commandment be
came exceeding sinful." Nor can I believe
that any sinner was ever so divested of self-
righteous hope as to consider himself a
mere sinner, who yet continued to reject the
Saviour ; for this were the same thing as
for him to have no ground to stand upon,
either false or true ; but he who submits not
to the righteousness of God is, in some form
or other, going about to establish his own
righteousness.

There is, I apprehend, an important dif-
ference between the case of a person who,
whatever be his convictions, is still averse
from giving up every claim and falling at
the feet of the Saviour, and that of one
whose convictions lead him to take refuge
in the gospel, as far as he understands it,
even though at present he may have but a
very imperfect view of it. I can clearly
conceive of the convictions of the former as
having no repentance or holiness in them,
but not so of the latter. I believe repent-
ance has begun to operate in many persons

of this description, who as yet have not
found that peace or rest for their souls
which the gospel is adapted to aflford. In
short, the question is whether there be not
such a thing as spiritual conviction, or con-
viction which proceeds from the special in-
fluence of the Spirit of God, and which in
its oAvn nature invariably leads the soul to
Christ. It is not necessary that it should be
known by the party, or by others, to be so
at the time, nor can it be known but by its
effects, or till it has led the sinner to believe
in Christ alone for salvation. But this does
not prove but that it may exist. And when
I read of sin by the commandment becom-
ing exceedingly sinful ; of our being through
the law dead to the law, " that we might
live unto God ;" of the law being appointed
as a school-master to bring us to Christ,
" that we might be justified by faith," I am
persuaded that it does exist, and that to say
all spiritual conviction of sin is by means
of the gospel, is antiscriptural and absurd.

In places where the gospel is preached,
and where persons have long heard it, it is
not supposed that they are necessarily first
led to think of the law, and of themselves as
transgressors of it ; and then, being con-
vinced of the exceeding sinfulness of sin by
it, are for the first time led to think of Christ.
No, it is not the order of time, but that of
cause and effect, for which I plead. It may
be by thinking of the death of Christ itself
that we are first led to see the evil of sin ;
but, if it be so, this does not disprove the
apostolic doctrine, that " by the law is the
knowledge of sin." If the death of Christ
furnish us with this knowledge, it is as hon-
oring the precept and penalty of the law.
It is still, therefore, by tne law, as exempli-
fied in him, that we are convinced.

" A spirit of grace and supplication" was
to be poured " upon the house of David and
the inhabitants of Jerusalem," in conse-
quence of which they were to " look upon
him whom they had pierced, and mourn as
for an only son, and to be in bitterness as
one that is in bitterness for his first-born."
Is this mourning described as follov/ing or
as preceding their forgiveness ? As prece-
ding it. It is true they are said first to
" look upon him whom they had pierced ;"
but this view of the death of the Saviour is
represented as working only in a way of
conviction and lamentation : the view which
gave peace and rest to their souls follows
upon their mourning, and is thus expressed :
" In that day there shall be a fountain open-
ed to the house of David, and to the inhab-
itants of Jerusalem, for sin and for unclean-
ness."

Judge, my friend, and let the reader jndCTe,
whether this account accords with our first
viewing God as just, and justifying us un-
godly as we stand, and then beginning to

FULLER ON SANDEMAxNIANISM.

303

love him, and to repent of our having sinned
against him. Judge whether it does not
rather represent things in this order :
first, "a spirit of grace and supplication"
is poured upon the sinner ; next he is led
to think of what he has done against the
Lord and his Christ, and mourns over it in
the bitterness of his soul, and then gets relief
by washing, as it were, in the fountain of
his blood. Such was doubtless the process
under Peter's sermon. Acts ii. 37, 38.

On the connection of repentance and faith
I am at a loss to ascertain Mr. M's senti-
ments. He says, indeed that I know them ;
and suggests that I must have intentionally
misrepresented them. — Reply, p. 36. But,
if they be so plain, I can only say, my un-
derstanding is more dull than he suppo-
ses ; for I do not yet comprehend how he
can make repentance, in all cases, a fruit
of faith in Christ, and yet consider it as ne
cessary to forgiveness. He acknowledges
that " none believe who do not repent," (p.
39,) and that repentance is " necessary to
forgiveness," (p. 36.) "But forgiveness,
though not the same as justification, is yet
an essential part of it ; if, therefore, he allow
repentance to be antecedent to forgiveness
that is the same thing in effect as allowing
it to be antecedent to justification, or that
the faith by which we are justified includes
repentance. Yet he makes faith to be such
a belief as excludes all exercise of the will
or affections, and consequently repentance
for sin. He also considers repentance as
an immediate effect of faith (p. 38,) and
opposes the idea of any effect of faith being
included in it as necessary, not merely as a
procuring cause, but in the established or-
der of things, to justification. But this, so
far as I am able to understand things, is
making repentance to follow upon forgive-
ness rather than necessary to it

Mr. M'Lean adds, " Though repentance
ought to be urged upon all who hear the
gospel, and though none believe it who do
not repent, yet I strongly suspect that it
would ue leading us astray to press repent-
ance upon them before and in order to their
believing the gospel." — p. 39. And why
does he not suspect the same thing of press-
ing the belief of the gospel before and in
order to their repentance ? If indeed the
gospel were withheld from sinners till they
actually repent ; or if it were suggested that
they should first become penitents, and then
think of being believers, this would be lead-
ing them astray : and the same might be
said on the other side. If exhortations to
repentance were withheld till the sinner had
actually believed, or it were suggested that
he should first become a believer and then
think of repenting, this would be as anti-
scriptural as the other. But why should
we not content oureelyes with following the

examples of the New Testament?" " Re-
pent and believe the gospel?" As Mr.
M'Lean'a placing faith before repentance
does not require him to avoid telling sin-
ners of the evil nature of sin till they have
believed, nor to consider them as believers
while they are impenitent, why does he im-
pute such consequences to me, for placing
repentance before faith ?

Mr. M'Lean refers to a passage in the
preface to the first editon of The Gos^pcl
Worthy of all Acceptation, as favoring ex-
travagant constructions. I had said, " No
sort of encouragement or hope is held out
in all the book of God to any sinner as siich
considered." That which I meant, at the
time, was merely to disown that any sinner
was encouraged to hope for eternal life with-
out returning to God by Jesus Christ. Thus
I explained it in my answer to Philanthro-
pos ; but, as I perceived the idea was not
clearly expressed in the preface, and that
the words were capable of an ill construc-
tion, I altered them in the second edition,
and expressed my meaning as follows :
" There is no dispute concerning who ought
to be encouraged to consider themselves as
entitled to the blessings of the gospel.
Though sinners be freely invited to the par-
ticipation of spiritual blessings, yet they
have no interest in them, according to God's
revealed will, while they continue in unbe-
lief." I cannot consider Mr. M'Lean's other
references to the first edition, after a second
was in his hand, as fair or candid ; and this
appears to me unfair and uncandid in the
extreme.

It has been common to distinguish repent-
ance into legal and evangelical ; and I al-
low there is a foundation in the nature of
things for this distinction. The former ari-
ses from the consideration of our sin being
atransgressionofthe holy, just, and good law
of our Creator ; the latter from the belief of
the mercy of God as revealed in the gospel,
and the consideration of our sin being com-
mitted notwithstanding, and even against it.
But it appears to me to have been too light-
ly taken for granted that all true repentance
is confined to the latter. The law and the
gospel are not in opposition to each other :
why then should repentance arising from
the consideration of them be so opposite as
that the one should be false and the other
true?

If we wish to distinguish the false from
the true, or that which needs to be repented
of from that which does not, we may per-
haps, with more propriety, denominate them
natural and spiritual ; by the former under-
standing that which the mere principles of
unrenewed nature are capable of producing,
and by the latter that which proceeds from
the supernatural and renovating influence
of the Spirit of God.

304

FULLER ON S ANDEM ANI AN ISM.

Natural repentance, thus defined, is sor-
row for sin chiefly with respect to its conse-
quences, accompanied, however, with the
reproaches of conscience on account of the
thing itself. It is composed of remorse, fear,
and regret, and is often followed by a
change of conduct. It may arise from a
view of the law and its threatenings, in
which case it hath no hope, but worketh
death, on account of there being nothing
but death held out by the law for transgres-
sors. Or it may arise from a partial and
false view of the gospel, by which the heart
is often melted under an idea of sin being
forgiven when it is not so ; in this case it
hath hope, but, this being unfounded, it not-
withstanding worketh death in a way of
self-deception.

Spiritual repentance is sorrow for sin as
sin, and as sin committed against God.
It may arise from a view of the death of
Christ, through which we perceive how
evil and bitter a thing it is, and, looking on
him whom we have pierced, mourn as one
mourneth for an only son. But it may also
arise from the consideration of our sin be-
ing a transgression of the holy, just, and
good law of God, and of our having dis-
honored him without cause. Such a sense
of the evil nature of sin as renders it ex-
ceedingly sinful includes the essence of true
repentance : yet this, in the apostle, did not
arise from the consideration of the gospel,
but of the commandment. It was there-
fore legal repentance : yet as its tendency
was to render him " dead to the law" as a
medium of justification, and to bring him
to Christ for life, it was spiritual. It was
repentance unto life.

The chief ground on which repentance
toward God has been denied to precede
faith in Christ, in the order of nature, is
that no man can repent of sin till he enter-
tain the hope of forgiveness. Nay, it has
been said, " No man can repent unless he
Icnows himself to be of God ; and, as this
cannot be known till he hath received Christ,
faith must precede repentance." If the
principle that supports this argument be
true, we neither have, nor ought to have,
any regard to God or man, but for our own
sake. But, if so, the command ought not
to have been, " Thou shalt love the Lord
thy God with all thy heart and soul and
mind and strength, and thy neighbor as
thyself:" but thou shalt love thyself with
all thy heart and soul and mind and strength,
and thy God and thy neighbor so far as
they are subservient to thee. Moreover, if
so, the world, instead of being greatly de-
praved, is very nearly what it ought to be ;
for it is certainly not wanting in sclf-lovo,
though ii misses the mark in accomplishing
its object.

Some have allowed " that it is our duty

to love God supremely, whether he save
us or not ; but that, nevertheless, the thing
is impossible." If it be physically impossi-
ble it cannot be duty; for God requires
nothing in respect of obedience but that we
love him with all our strength. If it be on-
ly morally impossible, that is the same as
its being so owing to the corrupt state of
our minds. But we are not to suppose that
God, in saving sinners, any more than in
judging them, consults their depraved spi-
rit, and adapts the gospel to it. On tne
contrary, it is the design of all that God
does for us to restore us to a right spirit
His truth must not bend to our corruptions;
but our hearts must be " inchned to his tes-
timonies." So far, therefore, as any man
is renewed by the Spirit of God, so far is
he brought to be of God's mind, and does
what he ought to do. God's law is written
in his heart.

Farther: If the principle that supports
this argument be true, it will hold good in
reference to men, as well as to God. And
is it true that a man who is under just con-
demnation for breaking the laws, and who
has no hope of obtaining a pardon, ought
not to be expected to repent for his crime,
and, before he die, to pray God to bless his
king and country? On this principle, all
confessions of this kind are of necessity
mere hypocrisy. Even those of the dying
thief in the gospel, so far as they respect
the justice of his doom from his country-
men, must have been insincere ; for he had
no hope of his sentence being remitted.
What would an offended father say, if the
offender should require, as the condition of
his repentance, a previous declaration of
forgiveness, or even of a willingness to
forgive ? A willingness to forgive might
be declared, and it would heighten the crim-
inality of the offender if after this he con-
tinued hardened ; but for him to require it,
and to avow that he could not repent of his
sin upon any other condition, would be the
height of insolence. Yet all this is pleaded
for in respect of God. " If I be a father,
where is mine honor?"

Besides, how is a sinner, to " know that
he is of God," otherwise than as being con-
scious of repentance toward God and faith
toward our Lord Jesus Christ ? Till he is
sorry at heart for having dishonored God,
he is not of God, and therefore cannot
know that he is so.

If some have gone into extremes in wri-
ting of " disinterested love," as Mr. M'Lean
suggests, it does not follow that true relig-
ion has its origin in self-love. Most men,
who make any pretence to serious Christi-
anity, will allow that, if sin be not hated as
sin, it is not hated at all: and why we
should scruple to allow that, if God be not
loved as God, he is not loved at all, I can-

PULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM,

:?05

not conceive. I am not surprised, howev-
er, that those who have been so long and
so deeply imbued in a system, a leading
principle of which is " that godliness con
sists in love to that which first relieves us,"
•should write in the manner they do.

On some occasions, however, Mr. M.
himself can say as miich in favor of " disin
lerested love" as his opponent, and can
represent that which arises from " a mere
principle of self-love" as being of no value
" There may be some resemblances of re-
pentance," he says, "in fear, remorse, and
sorrow of mind, occasioned by sin ; as in
Cain, Judas, Fehx, &c. But a mere prin
ciple of self-love will make a n^n dread
the consequences of sin, while he lias prev
alent inclinations to sin itself. There is a
difference between mere fear and sorrow
on account of sin, and a prevalent hatred
of it ; between ha^ed of sin itself, and
mere hatred of its consequences ; between
that sorrow for sin which flows from the
love of God and of holiness, and that which
flows from an inferior principle. Men may
have even an aversion to some kinds of sin.
because they interfere with others, or be-
cause they do not suit tlieir natural consti-
tutions, propensities, tempers, habits, age,
worldly interests, &c., while they do not
hate all sin universally, and consequently
hate no sin, as such, or from a proper prin-
ciple.— Works, Vol. ii. p. 95.

LETTER VI.

On the connection between knowledge and
disposition.

You need not be told that this is a sub-
ject of prime importance in the Sandema-
nian system. It every where considers
knowledge as the one thing needful, and
disposition as its natural and proper effect.

Mr. M'Lean represents me as maintain-
ing that the understanding or perceptive
faculty in man is directed and governed by
his will and inclinations ; and this he sup-
poses to be the principle on which my ar-
guments are principally founded : a princi-
ple which can be true, he thinks, only in
cases where the original order of things is
perverted by sin. — Reply pp. 8, 9. Wheth-
er these sentiments be just, or contain a
fair statement of my views, we shall in-
quire as we proceed : at present I only ob-
serve that the state of the will or disposi-
tion is, in Mr. M 'Lean's account, governed
invariably by the understanding ; or, if in
any instance it be otherwise, it is owing to
the disorder introduced by sin. I should
not have supposed, however, that sin could
have perverted the established laws of na-,

Vol. 3.— Ma-

ture. It certainly perverts the moral order
of things, that is (as Dr. Owen represents
it, to whom Mr. M. refers,) instead of the
will being governed by judgment and con-
science, judgment and conscience are often
governed by prejudice. But there is noth-
ing in all this subversive of the established
laws of nature ; for it is a law recognized
both by nature and scripture that the dis-
position of the soul should influence its
decisions. A humble and candid spirit is
favorable, and a proud and uncandid spirit
is unfavorable, to a riglit judgment.

" It is a maxim," says Mr. Ecking, "that
has not yet been refuted, that the determin-
ation of the will must evermore follow the
illumination, conviction, and notice of the
understanding."* By the illumination, con
viction, and notice of the understanding
must be meant, either what the mind judg-
es to be right, or what it accounts agreea-
ble. If the will were always determined
by the former, there could be no such thing
as knowing the will of God and not doing
it. But I suppose this will not be pretend-
ed. It must therefore be of the latter tliat
Mr. Ecking writes. His meaning must he,
that the will evermore follows the mind's
view of the object os agreeable. But is it
certain that the viewing of an object agree-
able is properly and perfectly distinct from
choosing it ? President Edwards conceiv-
ed it was not, and therefore did not affirm
that the will was determined by tlie great-
est apparent good, but merely that " the
will always is as the greatest apparent
good, or as what appears most agreeable
is."t This is not saying that the will is
determined by the understanding; for, as
the same author goes on to prove, the
cause of an object appearing agreeable to
the mind may be "the state, frame, or
temper of the mind itself" But so far as
this is the case, the judgment is determined
by tlie state of the mind rather than the
state of the mind by the judgment.

A great deal of confusion on this subject
has arisen from confounding simple knowl-
edge, pertaining merely to the intellectual
faculty, with that which is compound
or comprehensive of approbation. The
former is with propriety distinguished from
whatever pertains to the state of the will ;
but the latter is not, seeing it includes it.

Mr. M'Lean, speaking of certain charac-
ters who had heard the gospel, says, "It
is supposed that such men have now re-
ceived some information which they had
not before, both with respect to their dan-
ger and the remedy of it, and" — what?
that their wills or dispositions are in tliat
proportion changed ? No : but " that they

• Essays, p. 54.

t Or. the Will, Part L Section U. p. 11.

506

FULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

are hereby rendered quite inexcusable if
they should neglect so great salvation
which neglect must now be the cHcct of
pervcrseness and aversion, and not of sim-

fle ignorance. John iii. 19; xv. 2, 25."*
do not say of Mr. M., as he did of me
when I was only reasoning upon the prin-
ciples of my opponent, that " he can take
either side of the question as he finds occa-
sion:" but this I say, that, when writing in
favor of the calls of the gospel he felt him-
self impelled to admit principles of which,
in his controversy on the other side, he has
quite lost sight. The above statement ap-
pears to me to be very just, and as he here
so properly distinguishes simple ignorance
from ignorance which arises from aversion
or neglect — the one as tending to excuse,
the other to criminate — he cannot consist
ently object to my distinguishing between
simple knowledge, which barely renders
men inexcusable, and knowledge inclusive
of approbation, which has the promise of
eternal life.

Simple knowledge, or knowledge as dis-
tinguished from approbation, is merely a
natural accomplishment, necessary to the
performance of both good and evil, but in
itself neither the one nor the other. In
stead of producing love, it often occasions
an increasing enmity, and in all cases ren
ders sinners the less excusable. In this
sense the term knowledge, and others rela-
ted to it. are used in the following passa-
ges : " The servant who knew his lord's
will, and did it not, shall be beaten with
many stripes," — '■ When they knew God
they glorified him not as God." " If ye
know these things, happy are ye if ye do
them." " If I had not come and spoken
unto them, they had not had sin, but now
they have no cloak for their sin." " If I
had not done among them the works which
none other man did, they had not had sin ;
but now they have both seen and hated
both me and my Father."

But knowledge is much more frequently
used in the scriptures as including appro-
bation. The Lord is said to know tjie
righteous, and never to have known the
workers of iniquity. To understand this
of simple knowledge would deprive God of
his omniscience. As ascribed to men, it is
what is denominated a spiritual understand-
ing. It is not necessary to an obligation to
spiritual duties, but it is necessary in the
nature of things to the actual discliarge of
them. It may be said of the want of this,
" The Lord hath not given you eyes to see,
and ears to hear, to this day ;" and tliat
without furnishing any cxcu.se for the blind-
ness of the parties. It is tlic wi.sdoai from
above imparted by the illuniinaling influ-
ence of the Holv spirit.

i'lUMyau On t'aU.s, otc, \>. 17.

That knowledge, in this sense of the
term, produces holy affections is not denied,
It is in itself holy, and contains the princi-
ple of universal holiness. It is that by
which we discern the glory of God in the
face of Jesus Christ, which glory being
beheld assimilates us into the same image
from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the
Lord. But the question at issue respects
knowledge in its simple and literal sense,
or that which is purely intellectual, exclu-
sive of all disposition ; otherwise it would
amount to no more than this, whether tiiat
which includes the seminal principles of
holy affection (namely, a sense of heart)
tends to produce it: which never was dis-
puted.

The ground on which I am supposed to
have proceeded is " that the understanding
or perceptive faculty in man is directed and
governed by his will ■f^ but this is a mis-
take : I ground no doctrine upon any theo-
ry of the human mind which I may have
entertained : but on what I consider as the
scriptural account of things; in whicii I
find spiritual perception impeded by evil
disposition, and promoted by the contrary.
1 Cor. ii. 14. Neither is the above a fair
statement of my views. If what I have
written implies any theory of the human
mind, it is not that the tmderstanding is in
all cases governed by the will ; but rather
that they have a mutual influence on each
other. I have allowed, in my Appendix,
that volitions are influenced by motives or
considerations which exist in the view of
the mind ; and I should think it is equally
evident, on the other hand, that our judg-
ments are, in a great number of instances,
determined by a previous state or disposi-
tion of the soul. In objects which do not
interest the affections the judgment maybe
purely intellectual, and the choice may nat-
urally follow according to its dictates ; but
it is not so in cases, as universal experience
evinces.

"But must it not be owned," says Mr.
M. in his Reply, " that, so far as this is the
case in man, it is an irreg^dar exercise of
his faculties, arising from the moral disor-
der of his lapsed nature, whereby judg-
ment, reason, and conscience are weakened,
perverted, and blinded, so as to be subject-
ed to his will and corrupt inclinations ?" —
p. 8. It must undoubtedly be owned that
the influence of an evil disposition in pro-
ducing an erroneous and false judgment is
owing (o this cause ; and if that for whicli
I plead were what Mr. M. elsewhere rep-
resents it, viz. a prejudice in favor of a re-
port, which renders the mind regardless of
evidence, (p. 67,) the same might be said of
all sucli judgment. But hoAv if the state
)!' tlic will contended for sliotild be, that of
a deliverance from prejudice, by which ev-

FULLER ON S AND E M ANI AN I S M.

307

idence comes to be properly regarded? It-
is not to the disorder introduced by sin that
we are to ascribe the general principle of
the moral state or disposition of the soul
having an influence on the judgment; for
it is no less true tliat a humble, candid, and
impartial spirit influences the belief of mor-
al truth, or truth that involves in its conse-
quences the devoting of the whole Ufe to
God, than that a selfish and corrupt spirit
influences the rejection of it. Surely it is
not owing to the human faculties being
thrown into disorder that a holy frame of
mind in believers enables them to under-
stand the scriptures better than the best
expositor ! The experience of every Chris-
tian bears witness that the more spiritually
minded he is the better he is prepared for
the discernment of spiritual things.

Mr. M'Lean thinks I have mistaken the
meaning of the term heart, in applying it
to the dispositions and affections of the
soul, as distinguished from the understand-
ing. When such phrases as a heart of
stone, a heart of flesh, a hard and impeni-
tent heart, a tender heart, a heart to know
the Lord, &c., occur, though they suppose
the intellectual faculty, yet there can be no
doubt, I should think, of their expressing
the state of the will and affections, rather
than of the understanding. I have no ob-
jection, however, to the account given of
the term by Dr. Owen, that "it generally
denotes the whole soul of man, and all the
faculties of it, not absolutely, but as they
are all one principle of moral operations,
as they all concur in our doing good or
evil." The term may sometimes apply to
what is simply natural ; but it generally, as
he says, denotes the principle of moral ac-
tion, which, being comprehended in love,
must in all cases, whether it relate to good
or evil, include affection. And thus in his
Treatise on Justice, Dr. Owen observes
that " assent is an act of the understanding
only ; but believing is an act of the heart,
which in scripture comprises all the facul-
ties of the soul as one entire principle of
moral and spiritual duties. ' With the heart
man believeth unto righteousness,' Rom. x.
10 ; and it is frequently described by an act
of the will, though it be not so alone. But
without an act of the will no man can be-
lieve as he ought. See John v. 40 ; i. 12 ;
vi. 35. We come to Jesus Christ as an
act of the will; 'and let whosoever will,
come :' and to be willing is taken for believ-
ing. Ps. ex. 3. And unbelief is disobe-
dience. Heb. iii. 18, 19."— CTiap. 1. p- 108.
Nay, Mr. M'Lean himself acknowledges
nearly as much as this. He says, " The
scriptures always represent the regenera
ting and sanctiiying influences of the spirit
as exerted upon the henrt, which include
not only the understanding, but the wil

and affections, or the prevalent inclinationg
and dispositions of the soul." — Works, Vol.
ii. p. 91.

That disposition, in rational beings, pre-
supposes perception, I never doubted ; but
that it is produced by it is much easier as-
serted than proved. Knowledge is a con-
comitant in m.any cases where it is not a
cause. If all holy dispositions be produced
by just perceptions, all evil disposition is
produced by just or erroneous ones. In-
deed, this is no more than Mr. M'Lean, on
some occasions at least, is prepared to ad-
mit. He tells us that " the word represents
the darkness, blindness, and ignorance of
the mind, with regard to spiritual things, as
the source of men's alienation from the life
of God, and ol' their rebelling against him."
— p. 77. Does he really think, then, that
the passages of scripture to which he refers
means simple ignorance?* If not, they
make nothing for his argument. Does he
seriously consider the blindness or hardness
of heart, in Ephes. iv. 18, as referring to
ignorance, in distinction from aversion, or
as including it?t Can he imagine that the
darkness in which Satan holds mankind is
any other than a chosen and beloved dark-
ness, described in the following passages ?
" They loved darkness rather than light,
because their deeds were evil." " The
heart of this people is waxed gross, and
their ears are dull of hearing and their
eyes have they closed."

That voluntary blindness renders sinners
estranged from God I can easily under-
stand, nor am I at any loss to conceive of
its being "that by which Satan reigns,
and maintains his power over the minds of
men ;" but I do not perceive, in any of
these facts, the proof of disposition having
its origin in ignorance. Two friends, whom
I will call Matthew and Mark, were one
evening conversing on this subject, when
the following sentiments were exchanged.
All sin (said Matthew) arises from ignor-
ance. Do you think then, (said Mark) that
God will condemn men for what is owing
to a want of natural capacity? O no,
(said Matthew ;) it is a voluntary ignorance
to which I refer : a not liking to retain God
in their knowledge. Then (said Mark)
you reason in a circle; your argument
amounts to this : All sin arises from igno-
rance, and this ignorance arises from sin ;
or, which is the same thing, from aversion
to the light !

Ii' MrT M'Lean, or others, will maintain

• Ephps.
Col. i. i:

IS, 19. Acts xxvi. 18. Eplies. vi.

t IlMfXJo-if Parkhtirst observes, is from irwpow and
si"nifies hnnlnef.-!, ^tillnusi^psn. or blindness. " It is not
merp ignorance," savs Dr. Owen, " but a stubborn rrsist-
;iiire of li^bt anil i-nnviction; an oh.iiiraf*' liardness,
whence It rejef-ls tlie itnpres.sions of divine truth." —
Discourses of I lie Ilo'y Sjiirit, Book iii. Cliap. iiL

308

FULLER ON S AN D EM A N I AN I SM.

fhat sin is the effect of simple ignorance
(and this they must maintain, or what they
hold is nothinof dilTercnt from that which

wheel of a machine is to those that follow ;
but that which light and plain direction are
to a traveller, leaving him inexcusable if

they oppose,) let them seriously consider a he walk not in the right way

few of its consequences, as drawn by some
of our modern Infidels. It is on this prin-
ciple that Mr. Godwin, in his treatise on
Political Justice, denies the original de-
pravity of human nature; explains away
all ideas of guilt, crime, desert, and ac-
countableness ; and represents the devil
himself as a being of considerable virtue.
Thus he reasons :

" The moral characters of men originate
in their perceptions. As there are no in-
nate perceptions or ideas, there are no in-
nate principles. The moral qualities of
men are the produce of the impressions
made upon them, and there is no such
Ihing as an original propensity to evil?'' —
Book i. Chap. iii.

Again : " Vice is nothing more than error
and mistake reduced to practice. Acting
from an ill motiv^e is acting from a mista
ken motive. Under tlie system of necessity
(that is, as held by him,) the ideas o^ guilt.,
crime, desert, and accountableness, have no
placeJ^ — Book iv. Chap. iv. — vi. pp. 254,
314.

Again : " Virtue is the offspring of the
tmderstanding. It is only another name for
a clear and distinct perception of tlie value
of the objectr Virtue, therefore, is ordina-
rily connected with great talents. Cassar
and Alexander had their virtues. They
imagined their conduct conducive to the
general good. The devil, as described by
Milton, also was a being of considerable
virtue ! Why did he rebel against his
Maker ? Because he saw no sufficient rea-
.?on for that extreme inequality of rank and
power which the Creator assumed. After
his fall, why did he still cherish the spirit
of opposition ? From a persuasion that he
.was hardly and injuriously treated. He
was not discouraged by the inequality of
the contest !" — Book iv. Chap. iv. .4pp. No.
I. p. 2G1.

Allowing this writer his premises, I con-
fess myself unable to refute his consequen-
ces. If all sin be the effect of ignorance,
so far from its being exceedingly sinful, I
am unable to perceive any sinfulness in it.
It is one of the clearest dictates in nature,
and that which is suggested by every
man's conscience, that whatever he does
wrong, if he know no better, and his igno-
rance be purely intellectual, or, as Mr.
M'Lean calls it, simple — that is, if it be not
owing to any neglect of means, but to the
want of means, or of powers to use them,
it is not his tault.

The intellectual powers of the soul, such
as perception, judement, and conscience
are not that to moral action which the first

But I shall be told that it is not natural
but spiritual knowledge for which Mr.
M'Lean pleads, as the cause of holy dispo-
sition. True: but he pleads for it upon
the general principle of its being the estab-
ished order of the human mind that dispo^
sition should be produced by knowledge.
Moreover, if spiritual knowledge should be
found to include approbation, it cannot,
with propriety, be so distinguished from it
as to be a cause of which the other is the
effect ; for to say that all disposition arises
from knowledge, and that that knowledge
includes approbation, is to reason in a cir-
cle, exactly as, in the case just supposed,.
Matthew reasoned on all sin arising from
which ignorance included aver-

ignorance,
sion.

That spiritual knowledge includes appro-
bation in its very nature, and not merely in
its effect, appears evident to me from twee
considerations. First: It m the opposite
of spiritual bhndness. 2 Cor. iv. 4 — 6;
Ephes. V. 8. But spiritual blindness in-
cludes in its very nature, and not merely irt
its effect, an aversion to the truth. Mr,
Ecking (whose Essays on Grace, Faith,
and Experience, have been reprinted by
the friends of this system, as containing-
what they account, no doubt, an able de-
fence of then* principles) allows the ina-
bility of the sinner to consist in his loving
darkness rather than light, and his disincli-
nation to depend on a holy sovereign God,
and not in the want of rational faculties.
Describing this inability in other words, he
considers it as cornposed of " error, igno-
rance, and unbelief/' in which he places
the " disease" of the sinner, " the very es-
sence of the natural man's darkness ;" and
the opposites of them he makes to be " truth,
knowledge, and faith, which being implant-
ed," he says, '•'■ the soul must be renewed."'
—pp. 66, 67.* If Mr. E. understood what
he wrote, he must mean to represent spirit-
ual fight as the proper opposite of spiritual
darkness ; and as he allows the latter, " in
the very essence of it, to include aversion,'^
he must allow the former in the very es--
sence of it to include approbation. Sec-
ondly: The objects perceived are of such a
nature as to be known only by a sense of
their divine excellency, which contains in it
more than a simple knowledge, even an
approbation of the heart. Those who have
written upon the powers of the soul have
represented "that whereby we receive ideas
of beauty and harmony as having all the

' 1 havR only tho first edition of Mr. E.'s Essays, and
therefore am obliged to quote from it.

FULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

309

characters of a sense, an internal sense."*
And Mr. Ecking, after all that he says
against a principle of grace in the heart
antecedently to believing, allows that ■' we
must have a spiritual principle before we
can discern divine beauties."! But the very
essence of scriptural knowledge consists in
the discernment of divine beauties, or the
Glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
To speak of faith in Christ antecedent to
this is only to speak at random. The rea-
son given why the gospel report was not
believed is that, in the esteem of men, the
Messiah had yioform nor comeliness in him,
nor beauty, that they should desire him.
To say we must have a spiritual principle
before we can discern divine beauties is,
therefore, the same thing in effect as to say
we must have a spiritual principle before we
can believe the gospel.

I will close this letter by an extract from
President Edwards's Treatise on the Af-
fections, not merely as showing his judg-
ment, but as containing what I consider a
clear, scriptural, and satisfactory statement
of the nature of spiritual knowledge.

" If the scriptures are of any use to teach
us any thing, there is such a thing as a
spiritual supernatural understanding of di-
vine things that is peculiar to the saints,
and which those who are not saints have
nothing of. It is certainly a kind of under
standing, apprehending, or discerning of
divine things, that natural men have nothing
of which the apostle speaks of in 1 Cor. ii.
14, ' But the natural man receivetli not the
things of the Spirit of God, for they are
foolishness unto him ; neither can he know
them, because they are spiritually discern
ed.' It is certainly a kind of seeing or dis
cerning spiritual things peculiar to the
saints which is spoken of in 1 John iii. 6,
' Whosoever sinneth hath not seen him, nei-
ther known him ;' 3 John ii., ' He that doeth
evil hath not seen God ;' and John vi. 40,
' This is the will of him that sent me, that
every one that seeth the Son, and believeth
on him, may have everlasting life.' Chap.
xiv. 19, ' The world seeth me no more, but
ye see me.' Chap. xvii. 3, ' This is eternal
life that they might know thee the only true
God and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.'
Matt. xi. 27. ' No man knoweth the Son but
the Father, neither knoweth any man the
Father but the Son, and he to whomsoevcj
the Son will reveal him.' John xii. 45,
' He that seeth me seeth him that sent me.'
Psa. ix. 10, ' They that know thy name will
put their tnist in thee.' Phil. iii. S, ' I count
all things loss for the excellency of the
knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord.' Verse
10, ' That I may know him.' And innu-

* Chamber's Dictionary, Art.
t Essays, p. 67.

Sense.

merable other places there are, all over the
Bible, which show the same. And that
there is such a thing as an understanding
of divine things, which in its nature, and kind
is wholly different from all knowledge that
natural men have, is evident from this, that
there is an understanding of divine things
which the scripture calls spiritual under-
standing : Col. i. 9, ' We do not cease to
pray tor you, and to desire that you maybe
filled wiih the knowledge of his will in all
wisdom and spiritual understanding.' It
has already been shown that that which is
spiritual, in the ordinary use of the word in
the New Testament, is entirely different, in
nature and kind, from all which natural
men are or can be the subjects of

Hence it may be surely inferred wherein
spiritual understanding consists. For if
there be in the saints a kind of apprehension
or perception which is, in its nature, per-
fectly diverse from all that natural men
have, or that it is possible they should have,
till they have a new nature ; it must consist
in their having a certain kind of ideas or
sensations of mind which are simply diverse
from all that is or can be in the minds of
natural men. And that is the same thing
as to say that it consists in the sensations of
a new spiritual sense, which the souls of
natural men have not, as is evident by what
has been before once and again observed.
But I have already shown what that new
spiritual sense is which the saints have
given them in regeneration, and what is the
object of it. I have showm that the immedi-
ate object of it is the supreme beauty and
excellency of the nature of divine things as
they are in themselves. And this is agree-
able to the scripture : the apostle very
plainly teaches that the great thing discov-
ered by spiritual light and understood by
spiritual knowledge is the glory of divine
things. 2 Cor. iv. 3, 4, ' But if our gospel
be hid, it is hid to them that <are lost ; ia
whom the god of this world hath blinded
the minds of them which believe not, lest
the light of the glorious gospel of Christ,
who is the image of God, should shine unto
them ;' together with verse 6, ' for God who
commanded the light to shine out of dark-
ness hath shined in our hearts, to give the
light of the knowledge of the glory of God
in the face of Jesus Christ :' and Chap. iii.
18, but we all, with open face beholding as
in a glass, the glory of the Lord, are chang-
ed into the same image from glory to glory,
even as by the Spirit of the Lord.' And it
must needs be so, for, as has been before ob-
served, the scripture often teaches that all
true religion summarily consists in the love
of divine things. And therefore that kind
of understanding or knowledge which is the
proper tbundation of true reHgion must be
the knowledge of the loveliness of divine

[10

FULLER ON S A N DEM A N I ANI SM.

thi7igs. For, doubtless, that knowledge
which is the proper foundation of lave, is
the knowledge of looelinesis. What that
beauty or loveliness of divine things is,
which is the proper and immediate object
of a spiritual sense of mind, was shown un-
der the last head insisted on, viz : that it is
the beauty of their moral periection. There-
fore it is in the view or sense of this that
spiritual understanding does more immedi-
ately and primarily consist. And indeed it
is plain it can be nothing else ; for (as has
been shown) there is nothing pertaining to
divine things besides the beauty of their
moral excellency and those properties and
qualities of divine things which this beauty
is the foundation of, but what natural men
and devils can see and know, and will know
fully and clearly to all eternity.

" From what has been said, therefore, we
come necessarily to this conclusion, concern-
ing that wherein spiritual understanding
consists ; viz : That it consists in a sense of
the heart of the supreme beauty and siceet-
ness of the holiness or moral perfection of
divine things together with all that discern-
ing and knowledge of things of religion that
depends upon and flows from such a sense.

" Spiritual understanding consists prima-
rily in a sense of heart of that spiritual
beauty. I say a sense of heart ; for it is not
speculation merely that is concerned in this
kind of understanding ; nor can there be a
clear distinction made between the two fa-
culties of understanding and will, as acting
distinctly and separately in this matter.
When the mind is sensible of the sweet
beauty and amiableness of a thing, that im-
j^lies a sensibleness of sweetness and delight
in the presence of the idea of it ; and this
sensibleness of the amiableness or delight-
fulness of beauty carries, in the very nature
of it, the sense of the heart ; or an effect and
impression the soul is the subject of, as a
substance possessed of taste, inclination, and
will.

"There is a distinction to be made be-
tween a mere notional understanding, where-
in the mind only beholds things in the ex-
ercise of a speculative faculty; and the
sense of the heart, wherein the mind does not
only speculate and behold, but relishes and
feels. That sort of knowledge by which a
man has a sensible perception of amiable-
ness and loathsomeness, or of sweetness and
nauseousness, is not just the same sort of
knowledge with that by which he knows
what a triangle is, and what a square is.-
The one is mere speculative knowledge; the
other sensible knowledge; in which more
than the more intellect is concerned ; the
heart is the proper subject of it, or the soul
as a being that not only beliolds, but has
inclination, and is plcaf^rd or displeased.
And yet there is the nature of instruction in

it ; as he tJaat has perceived the sweet taste
of honey knows much more about it than
he who has only looked upon and felt of it.

" The apostle seems to make a distinction
between mere speculative knowledge of the
things of religion, and spiritual knowledge,
in calling that 'the form of knowledge, and
of the truth :' Rom. ii. 20, ' Which hast the
form of knowledge, and of the truth in the
law.' The latter is ol'tcn represented by
relishing, smelling, or tasting ; 2 Cor. ii. 14.
' Now thanks be to God, who always causeth
us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest
the savor of his knowledge in every place.'
Matt. xvi. 23, ' Thou savorest not the
things that be of God, but those that be of
men. 1 Pet. ii. 2, 3, ' As new-born babes
desire the sincere milk of the word, that
ye may grow thereby, if so be ye have
tasted that the Lord is gracious.' Cant. i.
3, ' Because of the savor of thy good oint-
ments, thy name is as ointment poured
forth ; therefore do the virgins love thee ;'
compared with 1 John ii. 20, ' But ye have
an unction from the holy one, and ye know
all things.'

" Spiritual understanding primarily con-
sists in this sense, or taste of the moral beau-
ty of divine things ; so that no knowledge
can be called spiritual any further tlian it
arises from this, and has this in it. But,
secondarily, it includes all that discerning
and knowledge of things of religion which
depends upon and flows from such a sense.
When the true beauty and amiableness of
the holiness, or true moral good, that is in
divine things, is discovered to the soul, it as
it were opens a new world to its view.
This shows the glory of all the perfections
of God, and of every thing appertaining to
the Divine Being ; for, as was observed be-
fore, the beauty of all arises from God's
moral perfections. This shows the glory
of all God's works botli of creation and provi-
dence ; for it is the special glory of them
that God's holiness, righteousness, faithful-
ness, and goodness, are so manifested in
them ; and without these moral perfections
there would be no glory in tliat power and
skill with which they are Avrought. The
glorifying of God's moral perfections is the
special end of all the works of God's hands.
By this sense of the moral beauty of divine
things is understood the sufficiency of Christ
as a mediator ; for it is only by the discove-
ry of the beauty of the moral perfections of
Chrisi that the believer is let into the knowl-
edge of the excellence of his person, so as
to know any thing more of it than the devils
do : and it is only by the Icnowledge of the
excellence of Christ's pci'son that any know
his sufficiency as a mediator; for the latter
de7)erids upon and arises from the former.
It is by seeing tlie excellence of Christ's
person that the saints are made sensible of

FULLER ON S ANDEM ANI ANISM.

311

the preciousness of his blood, and its sufR
ciency to atone for sin ; for therein consists
the preciousness of Christ's blood, that it is
the blood of so excellent and amiable a per-
son. And on this depends the meritorious-
ness of his obedience, and sufficiency and
prevalence of his intercession. By this
sight of the moral beauty of divine things is
seen the beauty of tlie way of salvation by
Christ; for that consists in the beauty of
the moral perfections of God, which won-
derfully shines forth in every step of this
method of salvation from beginning to end.
By this is seen the fitness and suitableness
of this way ; lor this wholly consists in its
tendency to deliver us from sin and hell,
and to bring us to the happiness which con-
sists in the possession and enjoyment of
moral good, in a way sweetly agreeing with
God's moral perfections. And, in the way's
being contrived so as to attain these ends,
consists the excellent wisdom of that way.
By this is seen the excellency of the word
of God: take away all the moral beauty
and sweetness in the word, and the Bible is
left wholly a dead letter, a dry lifeless, taste-
less thing. By this is seen the true founda-
tion of our duty ; the worthiness of God to
be so esteemed, honored, loved submitted to
and served, as he requires of us, and the
amiableness, of the duties themselves that
are required of us. And by this is seen the
true evil of sin ; for he who sees the beauty
of holiness must necessarily see the hateful-
ness of sin, its contrary. By this men under-
stand the true glory of heaven, which consists
in the beauty and happiness that is in holiness.
By this is seen the amiableness and happi-
ness of both saints and angels. He that
sees the beauty of holiness, or true moral
good, sees the greatest and most important
thing in the world, which is the fulness of
all things, without which all the world is
empty, no better than nothing, yea worse
than nothing. Unless this is seen, nothing
is seen that is worth the seeing ; for there is
no other true excellency or beauty. Unless
this be understood, notliing is understood
that is worthy of the exercise of the noble
faculty of understandins". This is tlie beau-
ty of the godhead, and the divinity of divinity
(if I may so speak,) the good of the infinite
fountain of good ; without which God him-
self (if that were possible to be) would be
an infinite evil, without which we ourselves
had better never have been, and without
which there had better have been no being.
He therefore, in effect, knows nothing, that
knows not this. His knowledge is but the
shadow of knowledge, or, as the apostle calls
it, the form of knowledge. Well, therefore,
may the scripture represent those who are
destitute of that spiritual sense, by which is
perceived the beauty of holiness, as totally
blind, deaf and senseless ; yea, dead. And

well may regeneration, in which this divine
sense is given to the soul by its Creator, be
represented as opening the blind eyes, and
raising the dead, and bringing a person into
a new world. For, if what has been said
be considered, it will be manifest that, when
a person has this sense and knowledge given
him, he will view nothing as he did before :
though before he knew all things after the
flesh, yet henceforth he will 'know them so
no more ;' and he is become, ' a nev/ crea-
ture ; old tilings are passed away, behold
all things are become new ;' agreeably to
2 Cor. V. 16, 17.

" And, besides the things that have been
already mentioned, there arises from this
sense of spiritual beauty all true experiment-
al knowledge of religion; which is of itself,
as it were, a new world of knowledge. He
that does not see the beauty of holiness,
knows not what one of the graces of God's
Spirit is ; he is destitute of any idea or con-
ception of all gracious exercises of soul, and
all holy comforts and dehghts, and all ef-
fects of the saving influences of the Spirit
of God on the heart ; and so is ignorant of
the greatest works of God, the most import-
ant and glorious effects of his power upon
the creature ; and also is wholly ignorant
of the saints as saints ; he knows not what
they are : and in effect is ignorant of the
whole spiritual world.

" Things being thus, it plainly appears
that God's implanting that spiritual super-
natural sense which has been spoken of
makes a great change in a man. And
were it not for the very imperfect degree in
which this sense is commonly given at first,
or the small degree of this glorious light
that first dawns upon the soul ; the change
made by this spiritual opening of the eyes
in conversion, would be much greater, and
more remarkable, every way, than if a man
who had been born blind, and with only the
other four senses, should continue so a long
time, and then at once should have the
sense of seeing imparted to him, in the
midst of the clear light of the sun, discover-
ing a v/orld of visible objects. For, though
sight be more noble than any of the other
external senses, yet this spiritual sense
which has been spoken of is infinitely more
noble than that, or any other principle of
discerning that a man naturally has, and
the object of this sense infinitely great and
more important.

" This sort of understanding, or knowl-
edge, is that knowledge of divine things
whence all truly gracious affections do pro-
ceed : by which, therefore, all affections are
to be tried. Those affections that arise
wholly from any other kind of knowledge,
or do' result from any other kind of appre-
hensions of mind, are vain !"— pp. 225 —
232.

312

FULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

LETTER VIL

A7i inquiry whether, if believing be a spirit-
ual act of the mind, it does not presuppose
the subject of it to be spiritual.

Mft» Sandeman, and many of his admi-
rers, if I understand them, consider the mind
as passive in behaving, and charge those
who consider faith as an act of the mind
with making it a work and so of introducing
the doctrine of justification by a work of our
own.

Mr. Ecking sometimes writes as if he
adopted this principle ; for he speaks of a
person being " passive in receiving the
truth." — p. 73. In another place, however,
he is very explicit to the contrary. " Their
notion is absurd," he says, " who, in order
to appear more than ordinarily accurate,
censure and solemnly condemn the idea ot
believing being an act of the mind. It is
acknowledged, indeed, that very unscriptu
ral sentiments have prevailed about acts of
faith, when they are supposed to arise from
some previous principle well disposing the
minds of unbelievers toward the gospel
Yet, if it be admitted possible for the soul of
man to act (and who will deny that it does ?)
there is nothing more properly an act of the
mind than believing the truth ; in which
first the mind perceives it, then considers
the evidence offered to support it, and, final-
ly, gives assent to it. And can this com-
port with inactivity ? We must either say,
then, that the soul acts in believing the gos-
pel, or that the soul is an inactive spirit,
which is absurd." — p. 98. As Mr. E., in
this passage, not only states his opinion, but
gives his reasons for it, we must consider
this as his fixed principle ; and that which
he says of the truth being " passively re-
ceived" as expressive, not of faith, but of
spiritual illumination previously to it. But,
if so, what, does he mean by opposing a
previous principle as necessary to believing?
His acts of faith arise from spiritual illumi-
nation, which he also must consider as
" well disposing the minds of unbelievers
toward the gospel."

If there be any difference between him
and those whom he opposes, it would seem
to consist, not in the necessity, but in the
nature of a previous change of mind ; as
whether it be proper to call it a principle,
and to suppose it to include life as well as
light. He no more considers the mind as
discerning and believing the gospel without
a previous cliangc wrought in it by the
Spirit of God than his opponents. Nay, as
we have seen, he expressly, and, as he says,
"readily acknowledges that we must have
3- spiritu;d jn-iuciple b(!fore we can dis-
cern divine beauties." — p. 07. Butj if a

spiritual principle be necessary to discern
divine beauties, it is necessary to discern
and believe the glory of God in the face of
Jesus Christ ; for they are one and the same
thing.

But the previous change which Mr. E.
acknowledges, it will be said, is by means
of the word. Be it so ; yet it cannot be by
the word as spiritually discerned and be-
lieved, for spiritual discernment and belief
are supposed to be the effect of it.

M. E. says, indeed, that " the hinge upon
which the inquiry turns is, what is that
principle, and how is it implanted ?" But
this is mere evasion ; for let the principle be
what it may, and let it be implanted how
it may, since it is allowed to be necessary
" before we can discern divine beauties,"
and of course before we can actively believe
in Christ, the argument is given up.

The principle itself he makes to be " the
word passively received ; but as this is sup-
posed to be previously to " the discernment
of divine beauties," and to the soul's active-
ly believing in Christ, it cannot of course
have been produced by either : and to speak
of the word becoming a spiritual principle
in us before it iseither understood or believ-
ed, is going a step beyond his opponents.
I have no doubt that the word of God, when
it is once understood and believed, becomes
a living principle of evangelical obedience.
This I conceive to be the meaning of our
Lord, when he told the Avoman of Samaria
that, "whosoever should drink of the. water
that he should give him (that is, of the gos-
pel.) it should be in him a well of water
springing up to everlasting life." But, for
the word to become a principle before it is
actively received, or, to use the language
of Peter, before we have " purified our souls
by obeying it," is that of which I can form
no idea, and I suppose neither did Mr. Eck-
ing.

As to the second part of what he calls
the hinge of the inquiry, viz : how this prin-
ciple is implanted 1 he endeavors to illus-
trate it by a number of examples taken from
the miracles of Christ, in which the word of
Christ certainly did not operate on the mind
in a way of motive presented to its consid-
eration, but in a way similar to that of the
Creator, when he said, " Let there be light,
and there was light" Such is manifestly
tlie idea conveyed by the words in John v.
25; " The dead shall hear the voice of the
Son of God, and they that hear shall live."
To such an application of the word T have
no objection. That for which I contend is
that there is a change effected in the soul
of a sinner, called in scripture "giving him
eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart to un-
derstand"— "a new heart, and a right spir-
it"— '• a new creation," &c. &c. ; that this
change is antecedent to Ids actively believ-

FULLER ON S AND EM ANl ANISM.

313

ing in Christ for salvation; and that it is I in the «afnre of that which is communica-

ftot effected by motives addressed to the
mind in a way of moral suasion, but by the
mighty power of God. Mr. M'Lean allows
faith to be a duly^ or an act of obedience.
But, if so, this obedience must be yielded
either in a spiritual or in a carnal state. If
the former, it is all that on this subject is
pleaded lor. If the latter, that is the same
thing as supposing that the carnal mind,
while such, is enabled to act spiritually, and
that it thereby becomes spiritual.

To this purpose I wrote in my Appendix,
pp. 481, 4S2-, and what has Mr. M'Lean
said in hisreply ? Let him answer for him-
self. " This is a very unfair state of the
question «o far as it relates to the opinion
of his opponents ; for he rejiresents them as
maintaining that tbe Holy Spiritcauses the
mind u-hile carnal, or before it is spiritually
illuminated, to discern and believe spiritual
things; and then he sels himself to argue
against this contradiction of his own fra-
ming, as a thing impossible in its own na-
ture, and as declared by the Holy Spirit to
be so. L Cor. ii. 14. Were I to state Mr.
F.'s sentiment thus, The Holy Spirit im-
parts to the mind while carnal a holy
Busceptibility and relish for the truth,
would he not justly complain tliat I had
misrepresented his view, and that he did
not mean that the mind could possess
any holy susceptibility while it was in a
carnal state ; but only that the Holy Spirit,
by the very act of imparting this holy sus-
sceptibility and relish for the truth, removed
the carnality of the mind ? But then ihis
explanation appUes equally to the other side
of the question ; and surely it appears at
least as consistent with the nature of things,
and as easy to conceive that the Holy Spirit
should in the Jirst instance communicate the
light of truth to a dark carnal mind, and
thereby render it spiritual, as that he should
prior to that impart to it a holy susceptibili-
ty and relish lor the truth." — Reply, p. 7.

New, my friend, I entreat your close at-
tention, and that of the reader, to this part
oi" the subject; for here is the hinge of the
present question.

I am accused of framing a contradiction
which my opponents do not hold. They
do not hold, then, it seems, that the Holy
Spirit causes the mind xchije carnal to dis-
cern and believe spiritual things. Spiritual
illumination precedes believing ; such an il-
lumination, too, as removes carnality from
the mind, renders the soul spiritual, and so
enables it to discern and believe spiritual
things. Where then is the difference be-
tween us ? Surely it does not consist in
my holding with aprevious principle as ne-
cessary to believing; for they })rofess to
hold what amounts to the same thing. If
there be any difTcrence, however, it must lie
Vol. 3.— Nn.

ted, or in the order in which it operates.
And, as to the first, seeing it is allowed to
remove carnahty, and lo render the soul
spiritual, there can be no material difference
on this head. With respect to the second,
namely, ihe order of its operations, Mr. M.
thinks that the communication of the light
of truth to a dark, carnal mind, whereby it
is rendered spiritual, furnishes an easy and
consistent view of things. To which I an-
swer, If the carnality of th-e mind were
owing to its darkness, it would be so. But
Mr. M. has himself told us a different tale,
and that from unquestionable authority.
'■ Our Lord," he says, " asks the Jews,
'Why do ye not understand my speech'?'
and gives this reason for it, ' even because
ye cannot hear my word ;' that is, cannot
endure my doctrine." — Works, Vol. II., p.
110.

Now, if this be just (and who can contro-
vert it ?) it is not easy to conceive how light
introduced into the mind should be capable
of removing carnality. It is easy to con-
eive of the removal of an effect by the re-
moval of the cause, but not of the removal
of a cause by the removal of the effect.

But whatever difference may remain as
to the order of operation, the idea of a pre-
vious principle is held by Mr. M. as much
as by his opponent. Only call it " divine
illumination, by which the dtirk and carnal
mind is rendered spiritual." and he believes
it.

In endeavoring to show the unfairness of
the contradiction which I alleged against
him, Mr. M. loses himself and his reader,
by representing it as made to the act of the
Holy Spirit in imparling spiritual light to
to the soul while carnal ; whereas that
which I alleged against him respected the
act of the creature in discerning and believ-
ing spiritual things, while sucJi. If God's
communicating either light or holiness to a
dark and carnal mind be a contradiction, it
is of Mr. M.'s framing and not mine ; but I
see no contradiction, in it, so that it be in
the natural order of things, any more than
in his " quickening us when we were dead
in trespasses and sins," which phraseology
certainly does not denote that we are dead
and alive at the same time ! The contra-
diction alleged consisted in the carnal mind's
being supposed to act spiritually, and not to
its being acted upon by divine influence, let
that influence be what it miffht. It would
be no contradiction lo say of Tabitha. that
life was imparted to her while dead: but it
would be contradiction to aflirm^that while
she was dead God caused her to open her
eyes, and to look upon Peter !

Mr. M'Lean has, I allow, cleared himself
of this contradiction, by admitting the sin-
ner to be made spiritual through divine il-

314

FULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

lamination, previously to his bclievins: in
Christ ; bat then it is at the expense of the
grand article in dispute, which he has there-
by given up; maintaining, as much as his
opponent, the idea of a previous principle,
or of the soul's being rendered spiritual an-
tecedently to its believing in Christ.

The principal ground on which Mr.
M'Lean, Mr. Ecking, and all the writers on
that side the question, rest their cause, is
the use of such language as the followinir :
" Being born again, not of corrupti'ole
seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of
God, which liveth and abideth forever."
" Of his own will begat he us, with the
word of truth." " I have begotten you
tlirough the gospel."

On this phraseology I shall submit to you
and the reader two or three observations :

First : A being begotten, or born again,
by the word, does not necessarily signiiy a
being regenerated by faith in the word.
Faith itself is ascribed to the word as well
as regeneration ; for " faiih cometh by hear-
ing, and hearing by the word of God :" but,
if we say faith cometh by the word believed.
that is the same as saying that it cometli by
itself. Mr. M. has no idea of the word hav-
ing any influence but as it is believed (Re-
ply, pp. 17—34:) yet he tells us (p. 113)
that iaith is " the effect of the regenerating
influence of the Spirit and word of God."
But if faith be the effect of the word believ-
ed, it must be the effect of itself The truth
is, the word may operate as an inducement
to believe, as well as a stimulus to a new
life when it is believed.

Secondly : The terms regeneration, be-
gotten, born again, t^r., are not always used
in the same extent of meaning. They some-
times denote the whole of that change which
denominates us Christians, and which of
course includes repentance toward God, and
feith toward our Lord Jesus Christ : and in
this sense the foregoing passages are easily
understood. But the question is whether re-
generation, or those terms by which it is ex-
pressed in the scriptures, such as being be-
gotten, born again, quickened, &c., be not
sometimes used in a stricter sense. Mr. M.,
confining what I had said on the subject of
regeneration,asexpressedbybeingbegotten,
born again, &c., to the term itself, is " confi-
dent it bears no such meaning in the sacred
writings." — p. 17. But if abeingborn again,
which is expressive of regeneration, be
sometimes used to accoimt for faith, as a
cause accounts for its effect, that is all which
the argument requires to be established.
If it be necessary to be born again in order
to believing, we cannot in this sense, imless
the effect could be the means of producing
the cause, be born again by believing.
Whether this be the case, let the following
passages determine.

John i. 11 — 13. " He came unto his own,
and his own received him not, but as many
as received him, to them gave he power to
become the sons of God, even to ihem that
believe on his name : which were born not of
blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the
will of man, but of God." I can conceive
of no reason why the new birth is here in-
troduced, but to account for some receiving
Christ, or believing on his name while
others received him not. Calvin appears
to have ordinarily considered regeneration
in the large sense as stated above, and
therefore speaks of it as an effect of ft^ith.
Yet, when commenting on this passage,
perceiving that it is here introduced lo ac-
count for faith, he writes thus : " Hereupon
it followeth, first, that faith proceedeth not
from us, but that it is a fruit of spiritual re-
generation, for the evangelist saith (in ef-
fect) that no man can believe unless he be
begotten of God ; therefore faith is an heav-
enly gift. Secondly : That faith is not a
cold and bare knowledge : seeing none can
believe but he that is Hishioned again by
the Sph-it of God. Notwithstanding it
seemeth that the evangelist dealeth disor-
derly in putting regeneration before faith,
seeing that it is rather an effect of faith, and
thereibre to be set after it." To this oljjec-
tion he answers that "both may very well
agree," and goes on to expound the subject
of regeneration as sometimes denoting the
producing of faith itself, and sometimes of
a new life by faith.

John iii. 3. "Except a man be born
again, he cannot see the kingdom of God."
On this passage Doctor Campbell, in his
notes, is very particular, proving that by the
kingdom or reign of God is meant that of
Messiah in this world ; and that ov Swarat
(cannot) denotes the incapacity of the un-
regenerate to discern or believe the gospel.
The import of this passage is, in his appre-
hension, this : " The man who is not regen-
erated, or born again of water and Spirit is
not in a capacity of perceiving the reign of
God, though it were commenced. Though
the kingdom of the saints on the earth were
already established, theunregenerate would
not discern it, because it is a spiritual, not a
worldly kingdom, and capable of being no
otherwise than spiritually discerned. And,
as the kingdom, itself would remain un-
known to him, he could not share in the
blessings enjoyed by the subjects of it. The
same sentiment occurs in 1 Cor. ii. 14."

1 Cor. ii. 14. " The natural man receiv-
eth not the things of the Spirit of God : for
they are foolishness unto him ; neither can
he know them, because they are sinritually
discerned." Mr. M.. in his discourses on
the parable of the sower, says, " It is a doc-
trine clearly taught in the scriptures that
none have a true understanding of the gos-

PULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM,

315

pel but such as are taught of God by the
special illuminating influences of the Holy
Spirit. We are expressly told that, ' The
natural man receiveth not the things of the
Spirit of God : for they are foolishness unto
him ; neither can he know them, because
they are spiritually discerned.' " And in
answering an objector, who asks, " What
particular truth or sentiment is communica-
ted to the mind by the enlightening influ-
ence of the Holy Spirit, and which unenlight-
ened men can have no idea of?" — Mr. M
says, " It is not pleaded that any truth or
sentiment is communicated to the mind by
the Spirit besides what is already clearly
revealed in the word ; and the illumination
of the Spirit is to make men perceive and
understand thai revelation which is already
given in its true light.'''' — Sermons, pp. 78,
80, 81.

Mr. M.'s object, through this whole para-
graph, seems to be to prove that the illumi-
nating influence of the Holy Spirit is neces-
sary in order to our understanding the
scriptures ; but, if so, it cannot be by the
scriptures as understood that we are thus
illuminated, for this were a contradiction.
It cannot be by any particular truth or sen-
timent revealed, any more than unrevealed,
that we possess, " e3-es to see, ears to hear,
or a heart to understand" it. If the illumi-
nating influence of the Holy Spirit consist-
ed in imparting any particular truth or senti-
ment to the mind, even that which is reveal-
ed in the scriptures, where would be the
mystery of the operation ? Instead of be-
ing compared to the operations oi" the wind,
of which we know nothing but by its effects,*
it might have been ranked among the opera-
tions of motives as suggested by man to
man, or, at least, as put into the mind by
the providence of God so ordering it that
such thoughts should strike and influence
the mind at the time. — Ezra vii. 27. But
this would not answer to the scriptural ac-
counts of our being quickened, who were
dead in sins, by the power of God ; even by
the " exceeding greatness of his power, ac-
cording to that which he wrought in Christ
when he raised him from the dead."

Mr. M. has taken great pains to show the
absurdity of my reasoning on this subject ;
yet the sum of it is this, That which is ne-
cessary in order to understanding and be-
lieving the word cannot be by means of un-
derstanding and believing it.

All true knowledge of divine things is no
doubt to be ascribed to the word as the ob
jective cause, in the same way as corporeal
perception is ascribed to light. We cannot
see without light; neither can we under-
stand or believe spiritual things but by the

* Siir.li 13 the ippaniiiK of .John iii. 8. accorrlin; to
Campbell, and all oihex t-ApoB^tors that I l^ve seen.'

word of God. But the question does not re-
late to what is objective but subjective ; or,
if I might speak in reference to what is cor-
poreal, not to hght, but discernment. Mr.
Ecking speaks of light shining into a dark
room, and of the absurdity of supposing
there must be some principles of light in
this room which disposed it to receive that
which shone into it. — p. 68. But, if by the
light he mean the gospel, he should rather
have compared it to light shining upon a
blind man, and have shown the absurdity, if
he could, of supposing it necessary for his
eyes to be opened ere he could discern or en-
joy it. There is nothing in a dark room to
resist the hght, but that is not the case with
the dark soul of a sinner. " The light
shineth in darkness, but the darkness cora-
prehendeth (or, as Campbell renders it ad-
mitteth) it not."

Though I cannot think, with Mr. E., that
the word of God becomes a spiritual prin-
ciple in us till it is actively received, yet I
allow that it is productive of great effects.
The understanding and conscience being
enlightened by it many open sins are forsa-
ken, and many things done in a way of
what is called religious duty. And though
I have no notion of directing sinners to a
course of previous humiliation, nor opinion
of the efforts of man toward preparing him-
self for the reception of divine grace; yet I
believe God ordinarily so deals with men as
gradually to beat down their I'alse confi-
dences, and reduce them to extremity, ere
they are brought to embrace the gospel.
Such things are not necessarily connected
with faith or salvation. In many instances
they have their issue in mere self-righteous
hope ; and, where it is otherwise, they are
to laith and salvation, as I have said before,
but as the noise and the shaking of the dry
bones to the breath of life.

Moreover, the word of God produces still
greater and better effects when it is believ-
ed. In them that believe " it worketh effect-
ually." When the commandment comes to
a soul in its spirituality, it gives him to per-
ceive the exceeding sinfulness of sin ; and
when the gospel comes, not in word only,
hut in power, it produces mighty effects.
It is " the power of God unto salvatian to
every one that believeth." It operated be-
fore to the " pulling down of strong holds,"
and the casting down of many a vain
"' imagination ;" but now it " bringeth every
thought into subjection to the obedience of
Christ." It is thus that we " know the truth,
and the truth (as known) makes us free."
If once we are enabled to behold the glory
of God in the face of Jesus Christ, it chan-
ges us into the same image, be.frets and ex-
cites holy affections, and produces every
kind of gracious exercise.

The go-'^pel ie the mould into which the

816

FULLER ON S A ND EM ANI ANISM.

mind of the believer is cast, and by which
it is formed. The statement of Dr.Owen,as
quoted by Mr. Ecldng, is very just and
scriptural. '• As the word is in the gospel,
so is grace in the heart ; yea, they are the
same things variously expressed. Rom. vi.
17. As our translation doth not, so I know
not how in so few words to express that
which is so emphatic^ally here insinuated by
the Holy Spirit. The meaning is, that the
doctrine of the gospel begets the jform, Ji;^-
ure^ image, or ///if/Jfss of itself in the hearts
of them that believe ; so they are cast into
the mould of it. As is tbe one, so is the
other. The principle of grace in the heart,
and that in the word, are as children of the
same parent, completely resembling and
representing one another. Grace is a liv-
ing word, and the word is figured, limned
grace. As we have heard, so have we seen
and found it ; such a soul can produce the
duplicate of the word, and so adjust all
things thereby," &c.*

All this describes the effect of the word
on those who believe it ; but the question is.
how wo come to believe it ? Dr. Owen has
elsewhere attempted to solve this difficulty
by proving that a principle of spiritual life
is communicated to the sinner in regenera-
tion antecedently to believing.f He doubt-
less considered these things as consistent with
each other; and, though Mr. Ecking in ma-
king the quotation appears to consider them
as contradictory, yet, while he admits that
" we must have a spiritual principle before
we can discern divine beauties," the same
contradiction, if such ii be, attaches to him-
self.

I allow, with Dr. Owen, that the Spirit
of .God makes use of" the reasons, motives,
and persuasive arguments which the word
affords, to affect the mind ; and that conver-
ted persons are able to give some account
of the considerations whereby they were
prevailed itpon." But I also think, with him
that " the whole work of the Spirit in our
conversion does not consist herein ; but that
there is a real physical work whereby he im-
parts spiritual life to the souls of all who
are truly regenerated."^

Mr. M-Lean rejects the idea of physical
influence, and seems to confound it with
something corporeal or mechanical. H'orki?,
p. 84. If I understand the term •physical.
with respect to influence, it is opposed
to moral. That influence is denominated
mora! that works upon the mind by motives
or considerations which induce it to this or
that, and all beyond this is physical and su-
pernatural. When God created the soul
of man originally in righteousness and

• On Psalm 130, pp. 169—170; in Ecking'sKssnys, pp.
77,79.
' Discourse.s on the Holy Spirit, Book III. C, I.
X Discourses on the Holy Spirit, Book IIL C.5. Sec. 18

true holiness, I suppose it must be allowed
to have been a physical work. Man cer-
tainly Avas not induced by motives to be
righteous any more than to be rational ; yet
there was nothing corporeal or mechanical
in it. It is thus that I understand Dr. Owen
in the passage just quoted, in which, while
he admits of the use of moral suasion, he
denies that the whole work of conversion
consists in it ; and I should think Mr. M.
could not even upon his own principles
maintain the contrary. For, whatever mo-
tives or considerations the word of God may
furnish in a way of moral suasion, yet he
holds with the necessity of a divine super-
natural influence being superadded to it, by
which the mind is illuminated and rendered
spiritual. But, if divine influence consist
in any thing distinct from the influence of
the word, it must be supernatural and
physical. Tbe party is also equally uncon-
scious of it on his principles as on mine : he
is conscious of nothing but its effects. He
finds himself the subject of new views and
sensations ; but, as to knowing whence they
came, it is likely he thinks nothing of it at
the time, and is ready to imagine that any
person, if he would but look into the Bible,
must see what he sees so plainly taught in
it. He may be conscious of ideas suggest-
ed to him by the word, and of their effect
upon his mind ; but, as to any divine influ-
ence accompanying them, he knows nothing
of it.

Mr. Ecking represents " the inability or
spiritual death of sinners as consisting in
cfisinclination, or loving darkness rather
than light." And this disinclination he as-
cribes to ignorance and unbelief; whence
he argues, " If the removal of the effect is
by removing the cause, it is reasonable to
suppose that this is the way in which God
works upon the human mind," — p. 66.
That the removal of the effect is by the re-
moval of the cause I allow ; but vi^hat au-
thority had Mr. E. for making ignorance
and unbelief the cause of spiritual death?
Spiritual death consists in ignorance and
unbelief^ no less than in disinclination. It
consist in sin (Ephes. ii. T ; ) and, if igno-
rance and unbelief are sin.s. they are of the
essence of spiritual death. It is true they
are productive of other sins, and may be
considered as growing near to the root of
moral evil : but unless a thing can be the
cause of itself, they are not the cause of
all evil. Before we ascribe spiritual death
to ignorance, it is necessary to enquire
whether this ignorance be voluntary or
involuntary? If involuntary, it is in it-
self sinless ; and to represent this as the
cause of depravity is to join with Godwin
in explaining away the innate principles
of evil and indeed all moral evil and
accountableness, from among men. If vot-

FULLER OxN S AND EM ANIANIS M.

317

untary, the solution does not reach the
bottom of the subject ; for the question still
returns, what is the cause of the voluntari-
ness of ignorance, or of the sinner's loving
darkness rather than light? Is this also to
be ascribed to ignorance ? If so, the same
consequence follows as before, that there is
no such thing as moral evil or accountable-
ness among men.

Mr. M'Lean has stated this subject much
clearer than Mr. Ecking. He may else where
have written in a different strain, but, in the
last edition of his Dissertation on the Influ-
ences of the Holy Spirit, he attributes igno-
rance and unbelief to hatred, and not ha-
tred to ignorance and unbelief. " Our
Lord," he says, " asks the Jews, Why do ye
not understand my speech ? And gives this
reason for it, eve7i because ye cannot hear
my word — that is, cannot endure my doc-
trine. Their love of worldly honor and the
applause of men is given as a reason why
they could not believe in him. John v. 44.
He traces their unbelief into their hatred
both of him and his Father. John xv. 22,
24."— Hor/f^, Vol. II. p. 110.

Nothing is more evident than that the
cause of spiritual blindness is, in the scrip-
tures, ascribed to disposition. " Light is
come into the world ; but men love darkness
rather than light, because their deeds are
evil." " They say unto God. Depart from
us, for we desire not the knowledge of thy
ways." " Being alienated from the life of
God through the ignorance that is in them,
because of the blindness (hardness, or cal-
lousness) of the heartP "Why do ye not un-
derstand my speech ? even because ye can-
not hear my word." But if, as the scrip-
tures teach, the cause of both ignorance
and unbelief is to be traced to hatred (as
Mr. M'Lean acknowledges;) and if, as
Mr. Ecking says, " effects are removed
by the removal of the cause," I scarcely
need to draw the consequence that though
in a general sense it be true that we
are regenerated by believing the gospel,
yet in a more particular sense it is equally
true that Ave are regenerated in order to it.
It is somewhat extraordinary that Mr.
M'Lean, after allowing pride and aver-
sion to be the great obstructions to faith,
should yet deny the removal of them to be
necessary to it. He will allow some sort of
conviction of sin to be necessary to believ-
ing in Christ ; but nothing that includes the
removal of enmity or pride, for this were
equal to allowing repentance to be neces-
sary to it; but, if enmity and pride be not
removed, how can the sinner, according to
our Lord's reasoning in John viii. 43, v. 44,
iindcrstand or believe the gospel ? If there
be any meaning in words, it is supposed by
tills language that, in order to imderstand
and believe the gospel, it is necessary to

" endure" the doctrine, and to feel a regard
to " the honor that cometh from God." To
account for the removal of pride and enmi-
ty as bars to believing, by means of believ-
ing, is, I say, very extraordinary, and as
consistent with Mr. M.'s own consessions as
it is with scripture and reason ; for, when
writing on spiritual illumination, he allows
the dark and carnal mind to be thereby
rendered spiritual, and so enabled to dis-
cern and beheve spiritual things. — Reply, p.
7.

LETTER VIII.

An Inquiry whether the Principles here de-
fended affect the Doctrine of Free Justi-
fication by faith in the Righteousness
of Christ.

You are aware that this subject has fre-
quently occurred in the foregoing letters :
but, being of the first importance, I wish
to appropriate one letter wholly to it. If
any thing I have advanced be inconsistent
with justification by faith alone, in opposi-
tion to justification by the works of the law,
I am not aware of it ; and, on conviction
that it is so, should ieel it my duty to retract
it. I know Mr. M'Lean has labored hard to
substantiate this charge against me ; but I
know also that it belongs to the adherents
of the system to claim the exclusive posses-
sion of this doctrine, and to charge others
with error concerning it on very insufficient
grounds.* You may remember, perhaps,
that Dr. Gill was accused of self-righteous-
ness by Mr. Sandeman, on the ground of
his being an anti-Pffidobaptist !

A large part of that which Mr. M'Lean
has written on this subject is what I never
meant to oppose ; much of what he imputes
to me is without foundation ; and even
where my sentiments are introduced they
are generally in caricature.

I have no doubt of the character which
a sinner sustains antecedently to his justi-
fication, both in the account of the Law-
giver of the world and in his own account,
being that of ungodly. I have no objec-
tion to Mr. M.'s own statement, that God
may as properly be said to justify the un-
godly as to pardon the guilty. If the sin-

' I do not mean to sujrgest that Mr. M'Lean's system is
precisely lliat of Mr. Sandeman. Tije former, in liis
Tlwughts on the Calls of the Gospel, has certainly depar-
ted from it in many thinss, panic al.irly in respect of the
sinner's being jnslified antecedently to any "act, exer-
cise or advance," of his mind towards Christ; and on
which account Mr. S. would have set him down among
\he popular preachers.' But he has so mucti of the sys-
tem of Mr. S. still in hi.<! mind as often to reason upon
the L'round of it, and to involve himself iii numerous in-
consistencies.

• See Letters ou Theron and Aspasio, Vol 11. p. 481,

Note.

318

FULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

ner at the instant of justification be allowed
not to be at enmity with God, that is all I
contend for, and that is in efiect allowed by
Mr. M. He acknowledges that the apostle
" does not use the word ungodly to describe
the existing character ot" an actual believ-
er."— p. 123. But if so, as no man is justi-
fied till he is an actual believer, no man is
justified in enmity to God. He also con-
siders faith, justification, and sanctification,
as CO veal, and allows that no believer is in
a state of enmity to God. — p. 43. It fol-
lows that, as no man is justified till he be-
lieves in Jesus, no man is justified till he
ceases to be God's enemy. If this be grant-
ed, all is granted for which I contend.

If there be any meaning in words, Mr.
Sandeman considered the term ungodly as
denoting the existing state of the mind in a
believer at the time of his justification ; for
he professes to have been at enmity with
God, or, which is the same thing, not to
have " begun to love him," till he was jus-
tified, and even perceived that he was so.*
It was this notion that I wished to oppose,
and not any thing relative to the character
under which the sinner is justified. Mr.
M.'s third question, namely, " whether jus-
tifying faith respects God as the jusiifier of
the ungodly," was never any question with
me. Yet he will have it that I " make the
apostle by the term ungodly to mean godly."
He might as well say that when I allow
pardon to respect men as guilty, and yet
plead for repentance as necessary to it, I
make repentance and guilt to be the same
thing.

I am not aware of any difference with
Mr. M. as to what constitutes a godly
character. Though faith is necessary to
justification, and therefore in the order of
nature previous to it, yet I have no objec
tion to what he says, that it does not con
stitute a godly character, or state, previ-
ously to justification. — p. 145. And what-
ever I have written of repentance as pre-
ceding faith in Christ, or of a holy faith as
necessary to justification, I do not consider
any person as a penitent or holy character
till he believes in Christ and is justified.
The holiness for which I plead antecedent
to this is merely incipient ; the rising beam
of the sanctification of the Spirit. It is no
more than the spirituality which Mr. M.
considers as produced by divine illumina-
tion previously or in order to believing (p
7;) and all the consequences that he has
charged on the one might with equal justice
be charged on the other.

Nor am I aware of any difference in our
views respecting the duties nf unbelievers ;
if there be any, however, it is not on the
side that Mr. M. imagines, but the contra-

Epiatolary Correepf)iKience, p. 12.

ry. Having described the awakened sin-
ner as "convinced of guilt, distressed in
his mind on account of it, really concerned
about the salvation of his soul, and not
only earnestly desiring relief, but diligently
laboring to obtain it, according to the di-
rections given him by the exercise of holy
affections and dispositions," he adds, "all
this I admit may be previous to faith in
Christ and forgiveness through him. And
will Mr. Fuller deny this is the repentance
he pleads for in order to forgiveness?" —
p. 148. Most certainly he will. Had this
Ijeen what he pleaded for, he had been
justly chargeable with the consequences
which Mr. M'Lean has attempted to load
him with. But it is not. I cannot but con-
sider this question as a proof that Mr. M.
utterly mistook my sentiments on this part
of the subject, as much as I did his in
another, in consequence of having consid-
ered him as the author of a piece called
Simple Truth. I have no more idea of
there being any holiness in the exercises
which he has described than he himself
has. I might add, nor quite so much ; for,
notwithstanding what he has here advan-
ced in his Thoughts on the Calls of the
Gospel, he does not keep clear of unregen-
erate works being somewhat good, or at
least that they are not all and altogether
sinful.* If this be compared with what I
have written on total depravity in my Dia-
logues and Letters, it will be seen who
holds and who holds not witli the holiness
of the doings of the unregenerate.

But, whether or not I deny this to be the
repentance for which I plead as necessary
to iorgiveness, Mr. M. plainly intimates that
it is all the repentance ichich he allows to
be so. In all that he has written therefore,
acloiowledging repentance to be necessary
to forgiveness, he only means to allow that
a few graceless convictions are so ; and, in
contradiction to the whole current of scrip-
ture, even to those scriptures which he has
produced and reasoned from in his Tlioughts
on the Calls of the Gospe/, still believes that
sinners are forgiven prior to any repentance
but that which needs to be repented of. —
Revly, pp. 36—42.

The difference between us, as to the sub-
ject of this letter, seems chiefly to respect
the nature of faith, whether it include any
exercise of the will ; and, if it do, whether
it affect the doctrine of free justification.

Mr. M. acknowledges faith, as a princi-
ple of sanctification, io be holy : it is only
as justifying that he is for excluding all
holy affection from it. — p. 97. But, if it be
holy in relation to sanctification, it must be
holy in itself; and that which is holy in it-
self must be so in every relation which it

• Sec Vol. II, of Ws works, pp. 63, M.

PULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM,

319

sustains. It is not one kind of faith that
sanctifies, and another that justifies ; but
the same thing in different respects. To
represent faith sanctifying as being holy,
and faith justifying as having no holiness
in if, is not viewing the same, but a differ-
ent tiling in difi'erent respects.

For a specimen of Mr. M.'s manner of
writing on this subject, you will excuse my
copying as follows: "An awakened sinner
asks, ' What must I do to be saved ?' An
apostle answers, ' Believe in the Lord Je-
sus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.' But
a preacher of the doctrine I am opposing
would have taught him another lesson. He
might, indeed, in compliance with scripture
language, use the word believe ; but he
would tell him that, in this case, it did not
bear its usual sense, that it was not the as-
sent of his understanding, in giving credit
to the testimony of the gospel, but a ^race
arising from a previous spiritual principle,
and including in it a number of hohj affec-
tions and disposilions of heart, all which
he must exercise and set a working, in order
to his being justified ; and many directions
will be given him how he is to perform this.
But this is to destroy the freedom of the
gospel, and to make the hope of a sinner
turn upon his finding some virtuous exerci-
ses and dispositions in his own heart, in-
stead of placing it directly in the work fin-
ished by the Son of God upon the cross.
In opposition to this, I maintain that what-
ever virtue or holiness may be supposed in
the nature of faith itself, as it is not the
ground of a sinner's justification in the
sight of God, so neither does it enter into
the consideration of the person who is re-
ally believing unto righteousness. He views
himself, not as exercising virtue, but only
as a mere sinner, while he believes on him
that justifieth the ungodly, through the
atonement." — pp. 98, 99.

You will not expect me to answer this.
It is a proof how far a writer may misun-
derstand and so misrepresent his opponent;
and, even in those things wherein he under-
stands him, descrihe him in caricature. I
will only apply a few of the leading traits
in this picture to Mr. M.'s own principles.
"A preacher of this doctrine, instead of
directing a sinner to believe in Christ, and
there leaving it, would tell him that faith
was an assent of his understanding^ a grace
arising from a previous divine illundnaiion.
by which he becomes spiritual, and which
he must therefore first be possessed of. and
thus set him a working in order to get it,
that he may be justified. But this is to de-
ny the freeness of the gospel, and to make
the hope of a sinner turn upon his finding
some light within him, instead of placing
it upon the finished work of the Son of
Grod upon the cross. In opposition to this,

I maintain that whatever illumination may
be supposed necessary to believing, and
whatever spiritual perception is contained
in the nature of it, as it is not the ground
of a sinner's justification in the sight of God,
so neither does it enter into the considera-
tion of the person who is really believing
unto righteousness. He views himself not
as divinely illuminated, but merely as a
sinner, believing in him who justifieth the
ungodly through the righteousness of his
Son."

Mr. M., when writing in this strain, knew
that I had said nearly the same things ;
and therefore that, if lie were opposing me,
I had first opposed myself He even quotes
almost a page of my acknowledgments on
the subject. — p. 100. But these are things,
it seems, which I only "sometimes seem to
hold." Well, if Mr. M. can prove that I
have any where, either in the piece he was
answering, or in any other, directed the sin-
ner's attention to the workings of his own
mind, instead of Christ, or have set him a
working (unless he please to give that name
to an exhortation to forsake his way, and
return to God, through Jesus Christ,) or
have given him any directions how to work
himself into a believing frame ; then let all
that he has said etand against me. But, if
not, let me be beUeved when I declare my
utter disapprobation of every thing of the
kind.

But Mr. M. has another charge, or rath-
er suspicion, against me. "Mr. Fuller ad-
mits," he says, " that faith does not justify,
either as an internal or external work, or
holy exercise, or as being any part of that
which is imputed unto us for righteousness ;
and, did not other parts of his writings ap-
pear to clash with this, I should rest satis-
fied. But I own that I am not without a sus-
picion that Mr. F. here only means that
faith does not justify as the procuring cause
or meritorious ground of a sinner's justifi-
cation ; and that, while we hold this point,
we may include as much virtue and holy
exercise of the will and affections as we
please, without affecting the point of justi-
fication, as that stands entirely upon anoth-
er ground, viz. the righteousness of Christ
But it must be carefully observed that the
difference between us does not respect the
meritorious procuring cause of justification,
but the way in which we receive it. — p. 100.

Be it according to this statement (and I
have no objection to say that such is the
whole of mj'' meaning.) yet what is there
in this that clashes with the above acknowl-
edgments, or with free justification ? There
may be a " difference between us" which
yet may not afTect this doctrine. But let
us hear him through.

" The scriptures abundantly trstify that
we are justified by faith, ^vhich shows that

320

FULLER ON S AN DEM ANI AN ISM.

faith haa some concern in this matter."
True. "And Mr. Fuller admits that justi-
fication is ascribed to Ikith, merely as that
which unites to Christ, for die sake of whose
righteousness alone we are accepted."
Very good. " Therefore, the only question
between us is this : Does faith unite us to
Christ, and so receive justification through
his righteousness, merely in crediting the
divine testimony respecting the sufficiency
of that righteousness alone to justil'y us ;
or does it unite us to Christ, and obtain
justification through his righleousness, by
virtue of its being a moral excellency, and
as including the holy exercises of the will
and afiections ? The former is my view of
this matter : the latter, if I am not greatly
mistaken, is Mr. Fuller's."— p. 101.

It is some satisfaction to find our differ-
ences on the important doctrine of justifica-
tion reduced to a single point. Allowing
my sentiments to be fairly stated (and,
though I should not express them just in
these words, yet I certainly do consider a
holy faith as necessary to unite us to a holy
Saviour,) the question is, whether this sen-
timent clashes with the foregoing acknowl-
edgments, or with the doctrine of free jus-
tification ? It lies on Mr. M. to prove that
it does so. Let us hear him. " 1 hold that
sinners are justified through Christ's right-
eousness, by faith alone, or purely in be-
lieving that the righteousness ol Christ
which he finished on the cross, and which
was declared to be accepted by his resur-
rection from the dead, is alone sufficient for
their pardon and acceptance with God, how-
ever guilty and unworthy they are. But,
in opposition to this, the whole strain of Mr.
Fuller's reasoning tends to show that sin-
ners are not justified by faith alone, but by
faith working by love, or including in it the
holy exercise of the will and affections ;
and this addition to faith he makes to be
that qualification in it on which the fitness
or congruity of an interest in Christ's right-
eousness depends. — App. pp. 105, 106.
Without this addition he considers faith it-
self, whatever be its grounds or objects, to
be an empty, unholy speculation, which re-
quires no influence of the Spirit lo produce
it — p. 128. So that, if what is properly
termed faith has in his opinion any place
at all in justification, it must be merely on
account of the holy exercises and affections
which attend it."— pp. 101. 102.

Such is Mr. M.'s proof of my inconsis-
tency with my own acknowledgments, and
with the freeness of justification.

Let it be remembered, in the first place,
that the difference between us, by Mr. M.'s
own acknowledgment, does not respect the
meritorious or procuring cause of justifica-
tion. All he says, therefore, of " the right-
eousness of Christ as finished, and declar-

ed to be accepted by his resurrection from
the dead, being alone sufficient for our par-
don and acceptance with God, however
guilty and unworthy we are," belongs equal-
ly to my views as to his own : yet, imme-
diately after these words, he says, " but in
opposition to this Mr. F.," &c., as if these
sentiments were exclusively his own. The
difference between us belongs to the nature
of justifying faith. He considers the sinner
as united to Christ, and so as justified, by
the mere assent of his understanding to the
doctrine of the cross exclusive of all ap-
probation of it : whereas I consider every
thing pertaining to tlie understanding, when
the term is used exclusive of approbation,
to be either merely natural, or a " seeing
and hating of Christ and the Father." Nor
is approbation a mere effect of faith, but
enters into its essence. It is believing, but
it is believing with the heart; which all the
labors of Mr. Sandeman and his disciples
have not been able to prove means only the
understanding. We may believe many
things without approving them: but the
nature of the objects believed in this case
renders cordiality essential to it. It is im-
possible, in the nature of things, to believe
the gospel without a sense of the exceed-
'ing sinfulness of sin, and of the suitable-
ness and glory of the Saviour, which does
not merely produce, but includes approba-
tion of him. To " see no form nor comeli-
ness in him" is the same thing as to be an
unbeliever ; and the contrary is to be a be-
liever.

But I shall notice these remarks of Mr.
M., a little more particularly.

First: by the manner in which he has
introduced them, it, must appear to the read-
er that I had not fully declared my mind on
this subject, and that Mr. M., in detecting
my errors, was obliged to proceed on the
uncertain ground of "suspicion:" yet he
could not have read the very pages on which
he was animadverting, without having re-
peatedly met with the most express avow-
als of the sentiment, such as the following:
"Whatever is pleaded in behalf of the holy
nature of faith, it is not supposed to justify
us as a work, or holy exercise, or as being
any paxt of that which is accounted unto us
for righteousness ; but merely as that which
unites to Christ, for the sake of whose right-
eousness alone we are accepted :" Again :
" Living faith, or faith that worketh by love,
is necessary to justification, not as being the
ground of our acceptance with God, not as
a virtue of which justification is the reward,
but as that without which we could not be
united to a living Redeemer." Yet, with
these passages before his eyes, Mr. M. af-
fects to be at a loss to know my sentiments;
he " suspects" I maintain holy aflection ia
faith as necessary to union witli Christ!

J^DLLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

321

Secondly : If the difference between us
has no respect to the meritorious or procur-
ing cause of justification, as Mr. M. allows
it has not, then why does he elsewhere tell
his reader that " he thinks Mr. F. means to
plead for such a moral fitness for justifica-
tion as that wherein the virtue of the party
commends him to it ; or in which he is put
into a good state as a fit or suitable testi-
mony ot" regard to the moral excellency of
his qualifications or acts." — 'p. 104. I know
not what Mr. M. may think, but I should
consider tins as making faith the procuring
'Cause, or meritorious ground, of justifica-
tion : for what is the meritorious ground of
a blessing but that in consideration of which
it is bestowed?

Thirdly : If it is not sufficient that we
ascribe the meritorious or procuring cause
■of justification to the work of Christ, unless
we also exclude all holy affection from the
nature of faith as uniting us to him, how is
it that Mr. M. has written as he has on the
■Calls of the Gospel? He seems to have
thought it quite enough for him to disavow
■repentance or faith as making any part of
■our justifying righteousness, though the
same disavowal on my part gives him no
satisfaction. " Did Peter," he asks, " over-
turn the doctrine of free justification by faith
when he exhorted the unbelieving Jews to
repent and be converted that Iheir sins
might be blotted out? Does he there di-
rect them to any part of that work which
Christ had finished for the justification of
the ungodly, or lead them to think that
their faith, repentance, and conversion, were
to make an atonement for their sins?"
Again : " Cannot the wicked be exhorted
to believe, repent, and seek the Lord, and
be encouraged to this by a promise of suc-
cess, without making the success to depend
on human merit? Are such exhortations
and promises always to be suspected of
having a dangerous and self-righteous ten-
dency? Instead of taking them in their
plain and simple ocnse, must our main care
always be to guard against some supposed
self-righteous use of them, till we have ex-
plained away their whole force and spirit,
and so distinguished and refined upon them
-as to make men more afraid to comply with
than to reject then), lest they should be
guilty of some exertion of nn'nd or body,
■some good disposition or motion toward
Christ, which is supposed to be the highest
wickedness, and a despising of the work of
Christ?"*

If tliere be any meamng m words, Mr.
M. here most decidedly contends for re-
pentance, faith, and conversion (which must
be allowed to include holy affection.) being
necessary, in the established order of things

• •«ei' \Vorks, Vol. II., pp. 33, 5o, 56.

Vol. 3.— Oo.

to mercy, pardon, «&c., -which must also be
cUluwed to include justification.

Fourthly: With respect to fitness, I think,
with Mr. M., that there is a " peculiar suit-
ableness in faith to receive jrtstification, and
every other spiritual blessing, purely of
grace."— p. 106. It is "of faith that it
might be of grace." And this peculiar
suitableness consists in its being of the na-
ture of faith to receive the blessings of gi ace
as God's free gifts through the atonement,
instead of pertbrming any thing in the way
of being rewarded for it. Thus it is prop-
erly opposed to the works of the law. But
it does not follow that in order to tliis there
must be no " good disposition &c motion
toward Christ" in our believing in him.
On the contrary, if faith were mere knowl-
edge, exclusive of approbation, it would
not be adapted to receive the doctrine of
the gospel ; it would be either unholy, or
at best merely natural. If the former, in-
stead of receiving, it would be certain to
reject the heavenly doctrine ; and, if the lat-
ter, there would be no more suitableness to
receive it than there is in the wisdom of this
world to receive the true knowledge ol' God.
A holy faith is necessary to receive a holy
doctrine, and so to unite us to a holy Saviour.

The fitness for which I plead, in God's
justifying those who cordially acquiesce in
the gospel-way of salvation, rather than
others, and which Mr. M. consnders as in-
consistent with free justification (Reply, p.
103,) is no other than that fitness of wis-
dom, which, while it preserves the honors
of grace, is not inattentive to those of right-
eousness. Had it been said. Though "the
wicked forsake not his way, nor the unright-
eous man his thoughts, and though he re-
turn not to the Lord, yet will he have mer-
cy upon him, nor to our God, yet will he
abundantly pardon, we should feel a want
of fitness, and instantly perceive that grace
was here exalted at the expense of right-
eousness. He that can discern no fitness
in such connections but that of works and
rewards must have yet to learn some of
the first principles of the oracles of God.

Fifthly: With respect to justification by
faith alone, Mr. M. appears to have affixed
a new sense to the phrase. I have always
understood it to mean justification by a
righteousness received, in opposition to jus-
tification by a righteousness performed, ac-
cording to Gal. iii. 11, 12,— " Tiiat no man is
justified by the law in the sight of God is evi-
dent: for the just shall live by faith. And the
law is not of faith : but the man ihat doeth
them shall live in them." In this sense, jus-
tification by faith alone applies to my view.s
of the subject as well as to his : but the sense
in which he uses the phrase is very nearly
akin to that in which James uses it wlien
speaking of faith as dead, heui^ -alone.

322

FULLER ON S AN DEM ANI AN ISM,

We are, indeed justified hy faith alone ; but!
not by a faitli ichich is alone.

Mr. M. is in tbe habit of speaking of that
holiness which I conceive essential to the
nature of taith as sometiiing" added"' to it
or as being something " more" than faith :
but he might as well say that a cordial rejec-
tion of the gospel is something " more" tiian
unbelief. In like manner he seems to con-
sider the phrase, " laith which worketii by
love" as expressive of what faith products
'posterior to Us uniting us to Christ ; whereas
it is of the nature of faith in its very Jirst
existence in the mind to work, and tiiat in
a way ol" love to the object. It is also re-
markable tliat Paul speaks of faith which
" worketh by love " as availing to justifica-
tion ; while circumcision or uncircumcision
availeth nothing. Galations v. 6. Faith,
hope, and charity, have, no doubt their dis-
tinctive characters ; but not one of them,
nor any other grace, consists in its being
devoid of holy ailection. This is a common
property belonging to all the graces, is co-
eval with them, and essential to them.
Whatever we may possess, call it knowl-
edge or faith, or what we may if it be de-
void of this, it is not the effect of special di-
vine influence, and therefore not a fruit
of the Spirit. " That which is born of the
Spirit is .spirit."

Lastly : If union with Christ were ante-
cedent to all holy affection, it Avould not be
what the scriptures represent it ; viz : a
union of spirit : " He that is joined to the
Lord is one spirit." Union of spirit must
include congeniality of disposition. Our
heart must be as Christ's heart, or we are
not one with him. Believing in him with all
the heart, we hence, according to the wise
and gracious constitution of the gospel, and
not in reward of any holiness in as, possess a
revealed interest in him, and in all the
benefits arising from his obedience unto
death. " He that hath the Son hath life."
Such appears to be the order of things as
taught us in tlie scriptures, and such the
connection between faith and justification.
If union with Christ Avere acquired by faith
and an interest in him were bestowed in re-
ward of it. it would indeed be inconsistent
with free justification ; but if the necessity
of a holy faith arise merely from the nature
of things, that is, its fitness to unite us to a
holy Saviour, and il" faith itself be the gift
of God, no •fiuch consequence follows : lor
the union, though we be active in it, is in
reality formed by him who actuates u.s, and
to him belongs the praise. " Of him are
ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made un-
to us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanc-
tification, and redemption: that, according
as it is written, He that glorieth, let him
irlory in tlie Lord." .

Mr. M. has written much about God'B

justifying the ungodly ; but while he allows
that the term is not descriptive ol' the exist-
ing character of a believer, I have no dis-
pute witii him. He admits that, when
Christ is said to die for the ungodly, the
term includes many who at the time were
saint.«, only he died not for them as saints
(p. 115;) and this I readily allow. The
examples of Abraham and David were not
introduced by me to prove them to have
been godly characters for many years prior
to their justification; but to show, from the
examples of their iiiith not being taken I'rom
theirfirstbelieving while yet it respected God
as the justifier of the ungodly, that the doc-
trine of free justification could not require
that the party should at the time be at en-
mity with God.*

IVlr. M. has also written much about the
state of an awakened sinner. As he had
disowned his being the .subject of any holy
affection, I concluded he must be '• a hard-
hearted enemy of God." This was stated,
not from a want of feeling toward any poor
sinner, but to show whither the principle led.
Mr. M. answers ; " I have not the least idea
that a hard-hearted enemy of God. while
such, can either receive or enjoy forgive-
ness ; but I distinguish between such a
state of mind and that of an awakened self-
condemned sinner, and also between the
latter and a real convert, who believes the
gospel, has tasted that the Lord is gracious,
and is possessed of holy affections." — p. 15 L
Is there a medium, then, between holy af-
fection and hard-hearted enmity? If so. it
must be something like neutrality. But
Christ has left no room for this, having de-
clared, " He that is not with me is against
me." Let a sinner be alanned as much as
he may, if he have no holy affection toward
God,hemustbe a hard-hearted enemy to him.
Such I believe are many awakened sinners
notwithstanding all their terrors, and such
they will view themselves to have been, if
ever they come to see things as they are.
There are others, however, who, are not so,
but whose convictions are spiritual, like
those of Paul, who saw sin, " through the
commandment, to be exceeding sinful," and
who " through the law, became dead to the
law, that he might live unto God." Con-
victions of this kind lead the sinner to Christ.
They may not be distinguishable at the
time, either by himself or others, and noth-
ing but the efliects may prove the difference ;
yet an essential difference there is.

Mr. M. refers to the case of the jailor. I
know not what was his conviction of the
evil of sin. nor when he became the subject
of holy affection. But, be it when it might,
he was til! then a hard hearted enemy of
God. The case to which writers on Mr.

• On ihiF 8']t'i''Cf l*tiHe \i-AVQ 10 refer to Discourse
XXII. of my workci) G&nc»i».

FULLER ON S ANDEMANI ANISM,

323

M.'s side the question more I'requently refer
is that of the self-condemned publican ; but,
antecedently to his going down to his Irouse
justified, he " humbled himself," and that in
a way of holy though not of joyful affection.

According to Mr. M. there is a state of
mind which is not the effect of renewing
grace, and therefore contains nothing truly
good, but which is, nevertheless, necessary
and sufficient to prepare the sinner for re-
ceiving the forgiveness of his sin. " A hard
hearted er>emy of God cannot receive or
enjoy gospel forgiveness ; but a sinner un-
der terrors of conscience, though equally
destitute of all regard for God as the other,
can."

Far be it from me to impeach Mr. M.'s
integrity, I doubt not but he thinks that in
writing his Reply he was engaged in refu-
ting error. Yet, if his own words are to be
believed, he does not know after all but that
he has been opposing the truth. In page
151 'he says, " Whether such convictions as
issue in conversion differ in kind from others
I will not take upon me to determine.'''' That
is, he does not know but that it may be so.
and that there is such a thing as spiritual
conviction of the evil of sin, antecedently to
believing in the Saviour and subservient to
iL But this is the same, in effect, as saying
he does not know whether that which he
has been opposing throughout his perform-
ance may not, after all, be true ! " But I
am certain of this," he adds, " that it would
be very unsafe to build up any in an opinion
of their possessing holiness merely upon the
ground of their convictions, while they come
short of a real change and do not believe in
the Lord Jesus Christ. That conviction of
sin and its desert which is subservient to
faith in Christ will never lead a person to
think that it is any part of his holiness ; for
such a thought would be as opposite to the
nature of his conviction as his feeling a dis-
ease would be to his thinking himself whole."
Very good : but against what is it directed ?
not any thing advanced by his opponent.
It is, however, manifestly against the scope
of his own performance. The tendency.
though not the design, of thcfse remarks is
to show that there is a " difference in kind"
between some convictions and others, and a
marked one too. " That conviction of sin
and its desert which is subservient to faith
in Christ will never lead a person to think
that it is any part of his holiness ;" but (he
might have added) that conviction of sin
which is not subservient to faith in Christ
will. Graceless convictions generally, if
not always, become objects of self-admira-
tion. Here, then, Mr.' M. not only deter-
mines that there is a difference "between
some convictions and otliers, but specifics
wherein that difference consists. It never
occurred to the self-condemned publican

that there was any thing good or holy in
his humbling him.self" before God. Our
Lord, however, held it up as being so, and
recommended it as an example to others.

I shall conclude this letter with a few re-
marks on qualifications. This is a term on
which Mr. Sandeman and his followers
have plentifully declaimed. It conveys
to me the idea of something which entitles
the party to a good, or fits him to enjoy it.
With respect to entitling us, I suppose, there
is no dispute. The gospel and its invita-
tions are our title to come to Christ for sal-
vation. And, with respect to fitting us,
there is nothing of this kind that ispleadable,
or which furnishes any ground of encourage-
ment to the sinner that he shall be accept-
ed. It is not any thing prior to the coming
to Christ, but coming itself, that has the
promise of acceptance. All that is pleaded
for is the necessity of a state of mind suited
in the nature of things to believing, and
without which no sinner ever did or can be-
lieve, and which state of mind is not self-
wrought, but the effect of regenerating
grace.

Mr. Sandeman represents sinners as say-
ing to preachers, " If you would preach the
gospel to us, you must tell us something fit
to give us joy as we presently stand, uncon-
scious of any distinguishing qnalijication.^'
That the mind, at the time when it first re-
ceives gospel comfort, may be unconscious,
not only of every distinguishing qualification
but of being the subject of any tiling truly
good, I allow ; for I believe that is the first
true comfort which arises from the consid-
eration of what CJirist is rather than of what
we are toward him. But to be •' uncon-
scious" of any thing truly good and actually
destitute of it are two things : and so are
its being necessary in the nature of things
to our enjoying the consolations of the gos-
pel, and its being so as a qitalificution enti-
tling, or in some way recommending, us to
the divine favor. To conceive of a sinner
who is actually hardened in his sins, bloated
with self-righteous pride, and full of oppo-
sition to tlie gospel, receiving joy "presently
as he stands," is not only conceiving of rest
for the soul without coming to the Saviour
lor it, but is in itself a contradiction. Mr.
M'Lean acknowledges as much as this. " I
have not the least idea," he says, " that a
hard-hearted enemy of God, while such, can
either receive or enjoy forgiveness." Con-
viction of sin then, whether it have any
thing holy in it or not, is necessanj, not, I
presume, as a qualification recommending
the sinner to tlie divine favor, but as that
without which believing in .Tcsus wore in its
own nature impossible. Such are my views
as to the necessity of a new heart ere the
sinner can come to Christ. The joy that
an unregenerate sinner can receive " pres-

324

FULLER ON S ANDEMANIAN ISM.

cnlly as he stands" is any thing but thati A punctilious adherence to tlie letter of
which is afforded by the good news of sal- scripture is in some cases commendable

vation to the chief of sinners.

LETTER IX.

On certain New Testament practices.

That there are serious Christians who
have leaned to the Saridemanian system I
have no doubt, and in people of this de-
scription I have seen things worthy of imi-
tation. It has appeared to me that there is
a greater diligence in endeavoring to un-
derstand the scriptures, and a stricter regard
to what they are supposed to contain, than
among many other professors of Christiani-
ty. They do not seem to trifle with either
principle or practice in the manner that
many do. Even in those things wherein
they appear to me to misunderstand the
scriptures, there is a regard toward them
which is worthy of imitation. There is
something, even in their rigidness, which I
prefer before that trifling with truth which,
among other professing Christians, often
passes under the name of liberality.

These concessions, however, do not re-
spect those who have gone entirely into the
system, so as to have thoroughly imbibed
its spirit, but persons who have manifested
a considerable partiality in favor of the doc-
trine. ' Take the denomination as a whole,
and it is not among them you can expect to
see the Christian practice of the New Tes-
tament exemplified. You will find them
very punctilious in some things, but very
defective in others. Religion, as exhibited
by them, resembles a rickety child, whose
growth is confined to certain parts : it wants
that lovely uniformity or proportion which
constitutes the beauty of holiness.

Some of the followers of Mr. Sandeman
who in his lif(3-time formed a society in St.
Martin's-le-grand, London, and published
an account of what they call their Christian
'practices, acknowledge tliat the command
of washing one another's feet is binding
" only when it can be an act of kindness to
do so," and that thougii there be neither
precept nor precedent for fainily-praijer,
yet "it seems necessary for maintaining the
fear of God in a family." They proceed,
however, to judge those who insist on fci.mi-
ly-prayer and the first-day Sabbath, while
they disregard the feasts of charity, the hrjy
kiss, ^c. as persons " influenced to their re-
ligions practices not by the fear of God, the
authority of Christ, or the spirit of truth."
It is easy to see hence what kind of Chris-
tian practice that is by which these people
are distinguished,*

even though it may extend to the, tithing of
mint and cummin ; but in others it would
lead you aside from the mind of Christ ;
and to pursue any thing to the neglect of
judgment, mercy, and the love of God, is
dangerous in the extreme.

It has long appeared to me that a great
many errors have arisen from applying to
moral obligations the principle which is
proper in obedience tO' positive institutions.
By confounding theae, and giving to both
the name of ordinances, the New Testament
becomes little more than ritual, and rehgion
is nearly reduced to a round of mechanical
perforiTiances,

The distinction of obedien-ee into moral
and positive has been made by the ablest
writers of almost every denomination, and
must be made if we would understand
the scriptures. Without it we should con-
found the eternal standard of right and
wrong given to Israel at Sinai (the sum of
which is the love of God and our neighbor)
with the body of " carnal ordinances impos-
ed on them until the time of reformation."
We should also confound those precepts of
the New Testament which arise from the
relaUons we sustain to God and one another
with those that arise merely from the sover-
eign will of the legislator, and could never
have been known but for his having express-
ly enjoined them. Concerning the former,
an inspired writer does not scruple to refer
the primitive Christians to that sense of
riffht and wrong which is implanted in the
minds of m.en in general ; saying, ■' What-
soever things are true, whatsoever things
are honest, whatsoever things are just,
whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever
things are lovely, whatsoever things are
of ffood report ; if there be any virtue, and
if there be any praise, think on these
things." But, concerning the latter, he di-
rects'their whole attention to the revealed
will of Christ. " Now I praise you brethren
that you remember me in all things, and
keep the ordinances as I delivered them
unto you." " I received of the Lord that
which also I delivered unto you," &c. The
one is commanded because it is right; the
other is right because it is commanded.
The great "principles of the former are of
perpetual obligation, and know no other
change than that which arises from the va-
rvin<r of relations and conditions ; but those
of the latter may be binding at one period
of time, and utterly abolished at another.

We can clearly perceive that it were in-
consistent with the perfections of God not
to have required us to love him and one
another, or to have allowed of the contrary.

* I have not seen this pamphlet, but have taken a few

quotations from it, contained in Backus's Discourse on
I'aith onil its Influence.

FULLER OxN SANDEMANIANISM,

325

Children also must needs be required to
obey their parents ; for this is Tight. But
it is not thus in positive institutions. What-
ever wisdom there may be in them, and
whatever discernment in ns, we could not
have known them had they not been ex-
pressly revealed ; nor are they ever enforc-
ed as being in themselves right., but mere-
ly from the authority of the lawgiver. Of
them we may say, Had it pleased God, he
might in various instances have enjoined
the opposit.es. But of the other we are not
allowed to suppose it possible, or consistent
with righteousness, for God to have requi-
red any thing different from that which he
has required. The obligation of man to
love and obey his Creator must have been
coeval with his existence ; but it was not
till he had planted a garden in Eden, and
there put the man whom he had formed,
and expressly prohibited the fruit of one of
the trees on pain of death, that he came
under a positive law.

The use to be made of this distinction, in

precedent for family-prayer, yet it seemed
necessary for maintaining the fear nf God
in a family.'''' But this concession, being at
variance with more favorite principles, seems
to have meant nothing. It is said that I'ami-
ly-prayer has long been disregarded by
many who drink the deepest into the doc-
trine. With them, theretbre the maintain-
ing of " the fear of God in a family" seems
to be given up. The fact has operated
much against the denomination in the es-
teem of serious Christians, by whom they
are considered as little other than a body
of worldly men. Of late, the system has
been improved. Instead ot" owning, as for-
merly, that " the fear of God seemed to re-
quire this duty," it is now held to be 7mlaw-
ful, provided any part of the family be un-
believers, seeing it is holding communion
with them. On the same principle, unbe-
lievers, it is said are not allowed to join in
public prayer and praise, unless it be in an
adjoining room, or with some kind of par-
tition between them and the believers. In

the present controversy, is to judge in what short, it is maintained by Mr. Braidwood
cases xoe are to look for eayress precept or| that we ought only to join in prayer and
example, and in what cases we are not ^ praise with those with whom we partake of
lookforthem. Mr. Braidwood very proper- the Lord's supper." — Letters, pp. 31 — 46.
ly observes, " That which is morally good Such are the consequences of confounding
in its own nature is a bounden duty, al-j things moral with things positive or cere-
though it should not be pailicularly com- moniaJ.

manded nor exemplified in all the word ofj We have noaecotmt of any particular in-
God." — Letters, (J'-c, p. 42. In obedience! junctions given to Abraham respecting the

of this description there is not that need of
minute niles and examples as in the other;
bat merely of general principles which na-
turally lead to all the particulars compre-
hended under them.

To require express precept or example,
or to adhere in all cases to the literal sense
of those precepts which are given us, in
things of a moral nature, would greatly mis-
lead us. We may, by a disregard of that
for which there is no express precept or
precedent, omit what is manifestly right,
and by an adherence to the letter of scrip-
tural precepts overlook the spirit of them,
and do that which is manifestly wrong.

If we will do nothing without express pre-
cept or precedent, we must build no places
for Christian worship, form no societies for
visiting and relieving the afflicted poor, es-
tablish no schools, endow no hospitals, nor
contribute any thing toward them, nor any
tiling toward printing or circulating the
Holy Scriptures. Whether any person
vvho fears God would on this ground con-
sider himself excused from these duties, I
cannot tell : it is on no better ground, how-
ever, that duties of equal importance have
been disregarded ; especially those oi' fami-
ly-prnyer and the sanctijication of the
Lord's day.

In Mr. Sandeman's time it was allowed
that " though there was ncitlier precept nor

ordering of his family. God had said to
him in general, "W^alk before me and be
thou perfect ;" and which, as to things of
this nature, was sufficient. " I know Abra-
ham," saith the Lord, " that he will com-
mand his children, and his household after
him, that they shall keep the way of the
Lord, and do justice and judgment." Can
a child be brought up in the nurture and
admonition of the Lord when it never hears
its parents pray for it ? Paul would not
have eaten the Lord's supper with the ship's
company ; but he made no scruple of "giv-
ing thanks to God in presence of them all"
at a common meal ; and this, I presume,
without any partition between his company
and theirs, or so much as a mental reserva-
tion in respect of the latter. To join with
unbejievers in Avhat is not their ihily is to
become partakers of other men's sins : but
to allow them to join with us in what ?.s their
duty is not so. The believer is not at liberty
to join in the prayer of unbelief: but the
imbeliever is at liberty, if he can to join in
the prayer of faith. To deny him this were
to deny him the right of becoming a believ-
er, and of doing what every one ought to
do. W<; ouglit to pray for such tilings as
both believers and unbelievers stand in need
of: if the latter unite v;ith us in desire, it \»
well for them ; if not the guilt remains with
themselves and not witli as.

326

FULLER ON S A N DEM AN I ANISM.

The sanctijication of the Lord's-day is
said to be very generally disregarded
among the admirers of this system. Hav-
ing met and kept the ordinances, they seem
to have done with rcHgion for that day, and
teel at liberty to follow any amusement or
worldly occupation during the remainder of
it. This is Christian liberty ; and the op-
posite is pbarisaism !

So far as relates to its being the day ap-
pointed for Christian worship, rather than
the seventh ; that is to say, so far as it is
positive, tlie keeping of it is amply support-
ed by scripture precedent : but as to keep-
ing the day holy to the Lord, this, being
moral, is left to be inferred from general
principles. This is the case as to the man-
ner of attending to all positive institutions.
No injunctions were laid on the churches
with respect to their keeping the Lord's sup-
per in a holy manner ; yet in the neglect of
this lay the sin of the church at Corinth.
And the reasoning which the apostle used
to convince them of their sin applies to the
case in hand. He argues irom the ordi
nance of breaking bread being the Lord's
supper that turning it into their own supper
was rendering it null and void:* and by
parity of reasoning it follows, from the first
day of the week being the LonPs-day, that
to do oil}' own work, find our own pleasure,
or speak 07ir own words on that day, is to
make it void. Of the former he declared
" This is not to eat the Lord's supper ;" and
of the latter he would, on the same principle,
have declared, This is not to keep the
Lord's-day.

If, on the other hand, we do every thing
that is commanded in the New Testament
according to the letter of the precept, we
shall in many cases overlook the true in-
tent of it, and do that which is manifestly
wrong.

The design of our Lord's precepts on
prayer and alms-giving, in the Sermon on
the Mount, is to censure a spirit of ostenta-
tion in these duties ; but a strict conformi-
ty to the letter of them would excuse us
from all social prayer and public contribu
tions.

The design of the precept, •' Resist not
evil," but "if a man smite thee on the one
cheek, turji to him the other also," is to pro-
hibit all private or selfish resentment, and
to teach us that we ought rather to suffer
wrong than go about to revenge an injury.
Who docs not admire the conduct of the
noble Athenian who, in a council of war
held for the common safety of the country,
when the Spartan chief menaced him with

' I nm aware that fhoir otni supprr hap beon under-
stood as reffrrin? to tlin Inm finxtn ; tmt tho reasoning
of the apostli' snems to ine to admit of no such mtaniiis:.
How could he accine them of making void thn X.ord'i;
»appe.', if it wan not tlic Lord's eujipyr they were eating J

his cane, cried, '^Strike; but hear me?"
Such, in effect, has been the language of
the martyrs of Jesus in all ages ; and such
is the spirit of the precept. But to contend
for a literal compliance with it were lo re-
flect on the conduct of Christ himself, who,
when smitten before the high priest, did not
so exemplify it, but remonstrated against
the injury.

If the design of our Lord, in forbidding
us to lay up treasures on earth, were abso-
lutely and in all cases to prohibit the in-
crease of property, it was his design to over-
throw what the scriptures acknowledge as
a dictate of nature, namely, the duty of pa-
rents to provide for their children. 2 Cor.
xii. 1-1. True it is that men may hoard
wealth in order to enrich and aggrandize
their families to the neglect of present duty
toward the poor and toward the cause of
God : but this is the abuse of the principle,
and ought to be corrected, and not the prin-
ciple itself destroyed. Only let our own in-
terest and that of our children, be pursued
in subordination to God, and in consistency
with other ditties, and all will be right.
The contrary practice Avould load the indus-
trious poor, and prevent their ever rising
above their present condition, while it
screened the indolent rich, who might ex-
pend the whole of their income in self-grati-
fication, provided they did not increase their
capital.

Nor can any good reason be given, that
I know of, why we should understand this
precept as prohibiting in all cases the in-
crease of property, any more than that of
" selling what we have, and giving alms,"
as absolutely forbidding us to retain it. To
be consistent the advocates of this inter-
pretation should dispose of all their property
and distribute it among the poor. In other
words, they should abolish all distinctions
of rich and poor so far as concerns them-
selves ; not only the very rich and very poor,
but all distinction whatever, and be perfect-
ly on an equality. When they shall do
this, they will at least prove themselves to
be sincere, and impart a weight to their
censures against others which at present
they do not possess.

It was not our Lord's design in this par-
tial manner to lop off the branches of a
worldly spirit ; but to strike at the root of
it. To lay up treasures on earth denotes the
desire of am.-issing wealth that we may be
great, and shine, or in some way consume
it upon our lusts ; ami herein consists the
evil. There is as great a difference be-
tween a character who acts on this principle
and one whom God prospers in the path of
duty, and in the full exercise of henevolence
toward all about him, as between one who
engages in the chase of worldly applause,
and another who, peeking the good of those

FULLER ON S A N D P: M A N I A N I S M,

327

around him, must needs be respected and
loved.

The evil which arises from such inter-
pretations, whatever may be their tendency,
does not consist in throwing civil society in-
to a state of disorder ; for though men may
admit them in theory, yet they will contrive
some method of practically evading them,
and reconcile their consciences to it. The
mischief lies in the hypocrisy, self-deception,
and unchristian censures upon others, to
which they give occasion.

Much has been spoken and written on
"observing all things which Christ hath
commanded us," and on the authority of
aposlolic example. Both are literally bind-
ing on Christians in matters of positive in-
stitution ; and in things moral the spirit or
design of them is indispensable : but to en-
force a literal conformity in many cases
would be to defeat the end, and reduce
obedience to unmeaning ceremony.

In eastern countries the u-ashing of the
feet, after the toils of a journey, was a com-
mon and necessary refreshment ; and our
Lord, to teach his disciples in love to serve
one another, took upon himself the humble
office of a servant and washed their feet ;
enjoining upon them to do that to one an-
other which he had done to them. But to
conform to this custom where it is not prac-
tised, nor considered as necessary to be
done by any one, is to defeat the end of the
precept by substituting a form in the place
of a humble and affectionate service. We
may wash the saints' feet, and neglect to dry
iheirclothesjor to administer necessary com-
fort to them when cold and weary. If, in com-
mands of this nature, no regard is to be had
to times, places, and circumstances, why do
Sandemanians allow it to be binding " only
when it can be an act of kindness to do so ?"

It was customary in the east, and is still
80 in many countries, for men to express
affection to each other by a kiss; and the
apostles directed that this common mode of
salutation should be used religiously. But
in a country where the practice is principal-
ly confined to the expression of love be-
tween the sexes, or at most among relations,
it is much more liable to misconstruction and
abuse ; and being originally a human cus-
tom, where that custom ceases though the
spirit of the precept is binding, yet the form
of it, I conceive, is not so.

For a man to have his head uncovered
was once the commonly received sign of
his authority, and as such was enjoined : but
with us it is a sign of subjection. If, there-
fore we are obliged to wear any sign of the
one or of the other in our religious assem-
blies, it requires to be reversed.

The apostle taught that it was a shame
for a man to %vear long hair like a woman ;
not that he would have concerned himself

about the length of the hair, but, this being
a distinctive mark of the sexes, he appealed
to nature itself against their being confound-
ed ; that is, against a man's appearing in
the garb of a woman.

In theprimitive times, Christians had their
love feasts : they do not appear, however,
to have been a divine appointment, but the
mere spontaneous expressions of nmtual af-
fection; as when "breaking bread from
house to house they did eat their meat
with gladness and singleness of heart."
While these feasts were conducted with
propriety all was well ; but in time they
were abused, and then they were mention-
ed in language not very respectful, " These
are spots in i/onr feasts of charity." Had
they been of' divine institution, it wos not
iheir being abused tliat would have drawn
forth such language. The Lord's supper
was abused as well as they ; but the abuse
in that case was corrected, and the ordi-
nance itself re-inculcated.

These brief remarks are intended to prove
that, in the above particulars, Mr. vSande-
man and his followers have mistaken the
true intent of Christ and his apostles. But,
whether it be so or not, the proportion of
zeal which is expended upon them is far
beyond what their importance requires. If,
as a friend to believers' baptism, I cherish
an overweening conceit of myself, and of my
denomination, confining the kingdom of
heaven to it, and shutting my eyes against
the e.xcellences of others, am I not carnal ?
The .lews, in the time of Jeremiah, tliought
themselves very secure on account of their
fcrms and privileges. Pointing to the sacred
edifice, and its divinely instituted worship,
they exclaimed, " The temple of the Lord,
the temple of the Lord, the temple of the
Lord are these :" but were they not carnal 7
In how many ways, alas, are poor blind
mortals addicted to err !

When the reflecting Christian considers
what contentions have been maintained
about things of this nature, what divisions
have been produced, and what accusations
have been preferred against those who
stand a loof from such strifes, as though
they did not so much as profess to observe
all things ichich Christ has commanded, he
will drop a tear of pity over human weak-
ness. But, when he sees men so scrupulous
in such matters that the}^ cannot conscien-
tiously be present at any Avorship but their
own, yet making no scruple of joining in
theatrical and other vain .amusements, he
will be shocked, and must needs suspect
something worse than weakness; some-
thing, which strains at a gnat, but can swal-
low a camel ; something, in t^hort, which,
however good men may hnve been carried
away by it, can hardly be conceived to
have had its origin in n good man's mind.

;28

FULLER ON S A N DEM ANI ANI SM.

LETTER X.

An inquiry into the principles on which the
apostles proceeded informing and organi-
zing Christian churches.

You need not be told of the fierce dis-
putes which were first agitated by the lead-
ers of this denomination, and which have
since extended to others besides those who
choose to be called after their names, con-
cerninfT the order, government, and disci-
pline of gospel churches. To write upon
every minute practice found in the New
Testament would be to bewilder ourselves
and perplex the subject. If we can ascer-
tain the principles on which the apostles
proceeded in all they did, it will answer a
much better purpose.

Far be it from me to contend for an Eras-
tian latitude in matters of Church govern-
ment and discipUne, or to imagine that no
divine directions are left us on the subject,
but that the church must be modelled and
governed according to circumstance. This
were to open a door to every corruption
that human ingenuity and depravity might
devise. But, on the other hand, it is no less
wide of the truth to consider the whole
which is left us as a system of ordinances,
or positive institutions, requiring in all ca-
ses the most literal and punctilious obser-
vance. Such a view of the subject, among
other evil consequences, must introduce
perpetual discord ; seeing it aims to estab-
lish things from the New Testament which
are not in it.

It may be thought that in reasoning thus
I adopt the principles of the Episcopalians
against the Puritans, who denied the neces-
sity of express precept or precedent Irom
the scriptures, which the others pleaded for.
Had Episcopalians only denied this in re-
epect of moral duties, I should have thought
them in the right. It certainly is not neces-
sary that we should have exf)ress precept
or precedent for every duty we owe to our
neighbors, but merely that we keep within
the general principle of doing unto others
as we would that they should do unto us.
And the same may be said of various du-
ties toward God. If in our thoughts, affec-
tions, prayers, or praises, we be influenced
by love to his name, though his precepts
will be our guide as to the general modes
in which love shall be expressed, yet we
(shall not need them for every thing pertain-
ing to particular duties. When Josiah, on
hearing the book of the law read to him,
" rent his clothes and wept," it was not in
conformity with any particular precept or
precedent, but the spontaneous effusion of
love. The question between the Episco-
palians and the Puritans did not relate to

moral obligations, but to "rites and cere-
monies" in divine worship, which the church
claimed a "power to decree." Hence it
was common for them to urge it upon the
Puritans, that if their principles were fully
acted upon they must become Anlipsedo-
baptists ; or, as they called them, Anabap-
tists :* a proof this, not only that in their
judgment there was neither precept nor pre-
cedent in the scriptures in favor of paedo-
baptism, but that it was in matters of posi-
tive institution that they claimed to act
without either.

The question is. On what principles did
the apostles proceed in forming and organi-
zing Christian churches, positive or moral?
If the former, they must have been furnish-
ed with an exact model or pattern, like that
which was given to Moses in the mount,
and have done all things according to it:
but if the latter, they would only be furnish-
ed with general principles, comprehending,
but not specifying a great variety of particu-
lars.

That the framing of the tabernacle was
positive there can be no doubt; and that a
part of the religion of the New Testament
is so is equally evident. Concerning this the
injunctions of the apostle are minute and
very express. " Be ye followers (imitators)
of me as I also am of Christ." — " Now I
praise you, brethren, that ye remember me
in all things, and keep the ordinances as I
delivered them to you." — " For I have re*
ceived of the Lord that which also I deliv-
ered unto you." But were we to attempt
to draw up a formula of church government,
worship, and discipline, which should in-
clude any thing more than general oiitlines,
and to establish it upon express New Tes-
tament authorities, we should attempt what
is impracticable.

Doubtless the apostles acted under di-
vine direction ; but, in things of a moral na-
ture, that direction consisted not in providing
them with a model or pattern, in the man-
ner of that given to Moses, but in furnishing
them with general principles, and enduing
them with holy wisdom to apply them as
occasions required.

We learn, from the Acts and the Epis-
tles, that the first churches were congrega-
tions of faithful men, voluntarily united to-
gether for the stated ministration of the
word, the administration of Christian ordi-
nances, and the mutually assisting of each
other in promoting the cause of Christ ;
that they were governed by bishops and
deacons of their own chosing; that a bish-
op was an overseer, not of the other minis-
ters, but of the flock of God ; that the gov-
ernment and discipline of each church was
within itself; that the gifts of the ditTerent

' Preface to Bishop Sanderson's SeriiK^is, Sect- 23.

FULLER ON S AN D E i\I AN I ANI SM,

329

members were so employed as to conduce
lo the weliare of the body ; and that in ca-
ses ot" disorder, every proper means was
Used to vindicate the honor of Christ and
reclaim the party. These, and others which
might be named, are what I mean by gener-
al principles. They are sometimes illus-
trated by the incidental occurrence of ex-
amples (whjch examples in all similar cases
are binding ;) but it is not always so. That
a variety of cases occur in our time re-
specting which we have nothing more than
general principles to direct us, is manifest
to every person of experience and reflec-
tion. We know that churches were form-
ed, officers chosen and ordained, and pray-
er and praise conducted with " the under-
standing," or so as to be understood by oth-
ers : but in what particular manner they
proceeded in each we are not told. We
have no account of the formation of a sin-
gle church, no ordination service, nor any
6uch thing as a formula of worship. We
are taught to sing praises to God in psalms,
hymns, and spiritual songs, but have no in-
spired tunes. We have accounts of the
election of church-officers : bnt no mention
of the mode of proceeding, or how they as-
certained the mind of the church. If we
look for express precept or example for the
removal of a pastor from one situation to
another, we shall find none. We are taught
■however, that for the church to grow unto
an holy temple in the Lord, it requires to
be " fitly fi-amed together." The want of
fitness in a connection, therefore, especially
if it impede the growth of the spiritual
temple, may justify a removal. Or, if there
be no want of fitness, yet, if the material
be adapted to occupy a more important sta-
tion, a removal of it may be very proper.
Such a principle may be misapplied to
ambitious and interested purposes ; but, if
the increase of the temple be kept in view,
it is lawful, and in some cases attended with
great and good effects.

This instance may suffice instead of a hun-
dred, and serves to show that the forms and
orders of the New Testament church, much
more than those of the Old, are founded on
the reason of things. They appear to be
no more than what men, posessed of the
wisdom from above, would, as it were in-
stinctively, or of their own accord, fall into,
even though no specific directions should
be criven them.

That such were the pnnciples on which
the apostles proceeded is manifest from
their own professions., or from the general
jyrecepts which they addressed to the chur-
ches. These are a.s follows ;— " Let all
things be done to edifying.'''' " Let all
things be done deccnlly, and in order.''''—
"Follow after the things that make, for
peace, and tilings wherewith oncmay edify

Vol. 3. — Pr.

another.'''' Wliatever measures had a ten-
dency to build up the church of God and
individuals in their most holy faith, these
they pursued. Whatever measures ap-
proved themselves to minds endued with
holy wisdom as fit and lovely, and as tend-
ing, like good discipline in an army, to the
enlargement of Christ's kingdom, these
they followed, and inculcated on the chur-
ches. And however worldly minds may
have abused the principle, by introducing
vain customs under the pretence of decency.,
it is that wliich, understood in its simple and
original sense, must still be the test of good
order and Christian discipline.

The discipline of the primitive churches
occupies no prominent place in their char-
acter. It is not that ostentatious thing
which, under the name of an " ordinance,"
has become of late a mere bone of conten-
tion. It was simply the carrying into effect
the great principle of brotherly love, and
the spirit Avith which it was exercised was
that of long suffering, gentleness, goodness,
faithfulness, and meekness.

The way in which the apostles actually
proceeded, in the forming and organizing of
churches, corresponds with these statements.
When a number of Christians were assem-
bled together in the days of Pentecost they
were the first Christian church- But at first
they had no deacons and probably no pas-
tors except the apostles : and if the reason of
things had not required it they might have
continued to have none. Bui in the course
of things new service rose upon their hands,
therefore they must have new servants to
perform it ;* for, said the apostles, " It is not
reaso7i that we should leave the word of
God, and serve tables ; Wherefore breth-
ren look ye out among you seven men of
honest report, full of the Holy Ghost, and
of wisdom, w'homwemay appoint over this
business." In this proceeding we perceive
nothing of the air of a ceremony, nothing
like that of a punctilious attention to forms,
which marks -obedience to a positive insti-
tute ; but merely the conduct of men endu-
ed with the wisdom from above, servants
appointed when service required it, and the
number of the one proportioned to the
quantity of tlie other. All things are done
" decently and in order ;" all things are
done "to edifying."

In the course of things, the apostles, who
had supplied the place of bishops, or pas-
tor.s, would be called to travel into other
parts of the world, and then it is likely the
church at Jerusalem w-ould have a bishop,
or bishops of their own. As the number
of deacons was regulated by the work to
be done, so would it be by bishops, both of
this and in other churche.s. A large church

A rkacon as well as a minister, ineaas a servant.

330

FULLER ON S A N D E M A N I A N I S M

where much service was to be done, requi-i joined them, they are said to bo "added to

red seven deacons : and where tliey abound
ed in numbers and spiritual gifts, there
might be a plurality of pastors. With re-

the church."

Again : the first missionaries to a heathen
country could not be chosen by those to

spect to US) Avhere the reason of the thing vvhom they were .sent, but by him or them
exists, that is, where there are churches vvho sent them; nor would their influence
whose numbers require it, and whose abil- be confined to a single congregation, but

ity admits of it, it is still proper :* but for a
small church to have more pastors than
one, is as unnecessary as to have seven dea-
cons. Such a rule must favor idleness, and

by a kind of parental authority, would ex-
tend to all tJie societies that might be rais-
ed by means of their labors. It would be
different with succeeding pastors who mijxlit

confine useful ministers from extending be raised up from among the converts:

their labors. To place two or three in a

f)ost whicJi might be filled by one, must
eave many other places unoccupied. Such
a system is more adapted for show than for
promoting the kingdom of Christ.

It may serve to illustrate and simplify the
subject, if we compare the conduct of the
apostles with that of a company of mission-
aries in our times. What, indeed, was an
apostle but an inspired missionary ? Al-
lowing only for ordinary Christian mission-
aries being uninspired, we shall see in their
history all the leading characteristics of
apostolic practice.

Conceive of a church, or of a society of
Christians out of a number of churches, or
of "any two agreeing together," asunder-
taking a mission among the heathen. One
of the first things they would attend to
would be the selection of suitable missiona-
ries ; next, they v.-ould instruct them in the
things necessary to their undertaking ; and
after this send them forth to preach the gos-
pel. Such, exactly, was the process of our
Lord toward his apostles. He first selected
them; then, during his personal ministry,
instructed them ; and, after his resurrection,
gave them their commission, with a rich
effusion of the Holy Spirit to fit them for
their undertaking.

The missionaries on arriving at the place
of action would first unite in social prayer
and fellowship ; and this would be the first
Christian church. Thus the apostles, and
those who adhered to them, first met in an
upper room for prayer, preparatory to their
attack on the kingdom of Satan ; and this
litde "band of about a hundred and twen-
ty" formed the first Christian church ; and,
when others were converted to Christ and

*I say w/wse ability admits of it ; for there is equal
proof from the New Testament that they who preach
the gospel should live of the sospel, as there is of a plu-
rality of ehlers. But the zeal for tho latter has not al-
ways been accompanied by a zeal for the former.. If
the term elder must be understood to be not only a term
of office, but of the pastoral office exclusivly, and a plu-
rality of Ihem bo ref|uircd, why is nota pluraUly of them
supported 7 The office of elder in those churches which
are partial to this system is little more than nominal ; for,
v/hile an elder is emiiloyfd like other uicn in the neces-
sary cares of life, he cannot ordinarily fulfil the duties
of his office. No man that trtirrrth in thin marfarr (uii-
less it be in aid of a poor church) o>if;hl to enta'm^lr. him-
gel/ irith the afFuirs of this li/i : tliol hi vurj j/ca,-. Iv.m
•cAo hn'h chosen him to bo a soldifr.

they would of course be chosen by their
brethren, and their authority be confined to
those who elected them. Thus the apos-
tles were not constituted such by the church-
es, but received their appointment immedi-
ately from Christ ; nor was their authority
limited to any particular church, but ex-
tended to all. In this they stand distin-
guished from ordinary pastors, vvho were
elected by the churches, and whose author-
ity is confined to the churches tliat elected
them.

Again : The first missionaries to a hea-
then country would be employed in the
planting of churches wherever proper ma-
terials were found for the purpose ; and,
if the work so increased upon their hands
as to be too much for them, they would de-
pute others whom God should gift and
qualify, like-minded with themselves, to as-
sist them in it. Some one person at least
of this description would be present at the
formation and organization of every church,
to see to it that all things were done '■ de-
cently and in order." And, if there were
any other churches in the neighborhood,
their elders and messengers would doubt-
less be present, and, to express their broth-
erly concurrence, would join in it. Thus
the apostles planted churches; and, when
elders were ordained, the people chose
them, and they, by the solemn laying on of
hands, invested them with the office (Acts
xiv. 23.) and, when the Avork increased up-
on their hands, they appointed such men as
Timothy and Titus as evangelists, to ''set
things in order" in their stead. 2 Tim. ii.
2 ; Tit. i. 5. In these ordinations, a Paul
or a Titus would preside; but the other
elders who were present would unite in
brotherly concurrence, and in importuning
a blessing on the parties : and hence there
would be the " laying on of hands of the
presbytery," or elders.

I may add, though it does not immedi-
ately respect any question here at issue, if
the first mission-tries, and those appointed
by them, planted churches, set them in or-
der, and presided at the ordination of el-
der.s, it was not because the same things
would not have been valid, if done by others,
but because they would not have been
done. Let but churches be planted, set in

FULLER ON S A N DE MA N I A N I S M .

331

order, and scripturally organized, and,
whether it be by the missionaries or suc-
ceediui? native pastors, all is good and ac-
ceptable to Chrii^t. And such, I conceive,
is the state of things with respect to the
apostles and succeeding ministers. The
same things which were done by the apos-
tles were done by other.s appointed by
them ; and had they been done by elders
whom they had not appointed, provided the
will oi" Christ had been properly regarded,
they would not have objected to their va-
lidity. This is certainly true in some par-
ticulars, and I see not why it should not be
in all. Paul left Timothy at Ephesus that
he might charge some that they taught no
other doctrine : but, if the Ephesian teach-
ers had been themselves attached to the
truth, neither Paul nor Timothy would have
been offended with them for having super-
seded their interference. He also left Ti-
tus in Crete to set in order the things that
were wanting., and to ordain elders in every
city: but, if the Cretians themselves had
had suificient wisdom and virtue to have
regulated their own affairs by the word of
God, I believe their order would not have
been reckoned disorder. Had there been
elders already ordained among them com-
petent to assist in the ordination of others,
if we may judge from the general tenor of
apostolic practice, instead of objecting to
the validity of their proceedings, both Paul
and Titus would, though absent in the flesh,
have been with them in the spirit, '-joying
and beholding their order, and the stead-
fastness of their faith in Christ."

The sum is, that church government and
discipline are not a body of ceremonies,
but a few general principles and examples,
sufficient for all practical purposes, but not
sufficient to satisfy those who, in New Tes-
tament directions, expect to find an Old
Testament ritual. It is not difficult to per-
ceive the wisdom of God in thus varying
the two dispensations. The Jewish church
was an army of soldiers, who had to go
through a variety of forms in learning their
discipline : the Christian church is an army
going forth to battle. The members of the
former were taught punctilious obedience,
and led with great formality through a va-
riety of religious evolutions: but those of
the latter (though they also must keep their
ranks, and act in obedience to command
whenever it is given) are required to attend,
not so much to the mechanical as to the
mental, not so much to the minute observa-
tion of forms as to the spirit and design of
Ihem. The order of the one would almost
seem to be appointed for order's sake : but
in ihat of the other the utility of every
thing is apparent. The obedience of the
former was tl.at of children ; the latter of
sons arrived at muturer a<Te.

As our Saviour abolished the Jewish law
of divorce, and reduced marriage to its ori-
ginal simplicity; so, having abolished the
form and order of the church as appointed
by Moses, he reduced it to what, as to its
first principles, il was from the beginning,
and to what must have corrcsj)onded with
(he desires of believers in every age. It
was natural for " the sons of God," in the
days of Seth, to assemble together, and
" call upon the name of tlie Lord ;" and
their unnatural fellowship with unbelievers
brought on the deluge. And, even under
the Jewish dispensation, wicked men, though
descended from Abraham, were not consid-
ered as Israelites indeed, or ti-v.e citizens of
Zion. The friends of God were then the
" companions of those that feared him."
They '• spake often one to another," and as-
sembled for mutual edification. What then
is gospel church-fellowship but godliness
ramified, or the principle of holy love redu-
ced to action ? There is scarcely a precept
on the subject of church discipline but what
may, in substance, be found in the proverbs
of Solomon.

It does not follow hence that all forms of
worship and of church government are in-
difl'erent, and left to be accommodated to
times, places, and circumstances. The
principles or general outlines of things are
marked out, and we are not at liberty to
deviate from them ; nor are they to be fill-
ed upby worldly policy, but by a pure desire
of carrying them into effect according to
their true intent: to which may be added,
that, so far as they are exemplified in the
New Testament, it is our duty in similar
cases to follow the example.

It does follow, however, that scripture
precedent, important as it is, is not binding
on Christians in things of a moral nature,
unless the reason of the thing be the same
in both cases. Of this proof has been of-
fered in Letter IX., relative to the washing
of the feet, tlie kiss of charity, &c. It also
follows that, in attending to positive institu-
tions neither express precept nor precedent
is necessary, in what respects the holy man-
ner of performing them, nor binding in re-
gard of merely accidental circumstances,
which do not properly belong to them. It
required neither express precept nor prece-
dent to make it the duty of the Corinthians,
when meeting to celebrate the Lord's sup-
per, to do it soberly and in the fear of God,
nor to render the contrary a sin. There
are also circumstances which may, on some
occasions, accompany a positive institution,
and not on others, which being, therefore,
no part of it, are not binding. It is a fact
that the Lord's supper was first celebrated
with unleavened bread ; for no leaven was
to be found at the time in all the Jewisli
habitations; but no mention being made of

332

FULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

this, either in the institution or in the repe-]be express precept or precedent lor it, or
fition of it by tiie apostle, we conchide itinot, is of no consequcnee ; for the distinc-
was a. mere accidental circumstance, no jtion of sex is a mere circumstance in nowise
more belonging to the ordinance than its affecting the qualifications required, and
having been in " a large upper room." It therefore not belonging to :he institution,
is a fact, too, that our Lord and his disciples jit is of just as mucli account as whether a
sat in a reclining posture at the supper, af- beUever be a Jew or a Greek, a slave or a
ter the manner of sitting at their ordinary ' free man : that is, it is o^'no account at all ;
meals ; yet none imagine this to be binding! "for there is neither Jew nor Greek, bond
upon us. It is also a fact, with regard tojnor free, male nor female; but all are
the time, that our Saviour first sat down lone in Christ Jesus." Express precept or
with his disciples on the evening of the fifth [precedent might as well be demanded for
(lay of the week, the night in which he was! the parties being tall or low, black or white,
betrayed ; but though that was a memora-, sickly or healthy, as for their being male or
ble night, and is mentioned by the apostle female.

in connection with the supper, yet no one
supposes it to be binding upon us ; especial-
ly as we know it was afterwards celebrated
on the first day of the week by the church
at Troas,

Much has been advanced, however, in
favor of the first day of the week as exclu-
sively the time for the celebration of ihe
Lord's supper, and of its being still binding
on Christians. A weekly communion might,
for any thing we know, be the general prac-
tice of the first churches ; and certainly

To accommodate the spirit of New Tes-
tament practice to the fluctuating manners
and inclinations of men is certainly what
ought not to be : but neither can it be de-
nied that many of the apostolic practices
were suited to the state of things at the
time, and would not have been what they
were if circumstances had been different.
To instance in their proceedings on the
sevejiih and first days of the v/eek : It ia
well known that, in preaching to the Jews,
and others who attended with them, they

there can be no objection to the thing itself; | generally took the seventh day of the week :*
but to render it a term of communion is lay- j the reason of which doubtless was its being
ing bonds in things wherein Christ has laid I the day in which they were to be met with
none. That the supper was celebrated on | at tlieir synagogues. Hence it is that on
the first day of the week by the church atlthe^Jr.?; day of the week so little is said of
Troas is certain; that it was so every first^ their preaching to unbelievers, and so much
day of the week is possible, perhaps proba-iof the celebration of Christian ordinances,
ble; but the passage does not prove that it| which is represented as the specific object
was so ; and still less, as Mr. Braidwood of tlieir coming together.f But the same
affirms, that "it can only be dispensed on motive that induced the apostles to preach
that day." — Letters, p. 44. The words of to unbelievers chiefly on the seventh day of

the institution are, " As often as ye eat,"
&c., without determining how often. Those
who would make these terms so indetermi-
nate as not to denote frequency, and conse

not sufficiently consider their force. The
term " often," we all know, denotes frequen-
cy ; and " as often" denotes the degree of
of that frequency ; but every comparative
supposes the positive. There can be no de-
gree of frequency where frequency itself is
not. It might as well be said that the
words, How much she hath glorified herself,
so much torment give her, convey no idea
of Babylon having glorified herself more
than others, but merely of her pimishment
being proportioned to her pride, be it much
or little.

The truth appears to be that the Lord's
«upper ought to be frequently celebrated;
but the exact time of it is a circumstance
which does not belong to the ordinance it-
self.

Similar remarks might be made on fe-
viale commimion, a subject on which a
^'rcat deal has been written of late years in
ihe baptismal controversy. Whether there

the week would, in our circumstances, have
induced them to preach to them on the first,
that being now the day on which they or-
dinarily assemble together. In countries

quently to be no rule at all as to time, do where Christianity has so far obtained as

for the legislature to respect the first day of
the week as a day of rest, instead of having'
now and then an individual come into our
assemblies, as the primitive churches had,
and as churches raised in heathen coun-
tries must still have, we have multitudes
who on that day are willing to hear the
word. In such circumstances the apostles
would have preached both to believers and
unbelievers, and administered Christian or-
dinances, all on the same day. To frame
our worship in things of this nature after
apostolic example, without considering the
reasons of their conduct, is to stumble in
darkness, instead of walking as children of
the light. Yet this is the kind of apostolic
practice by which the churches have been
teazed and divided, the great work of
preaching the gospel to the ungodly neglect-

Acts xiii. 42,- xviii. 4; xvi. i;;
1 Cor. .vi. CO. Acts XX. 7.

FULLER OX S A N D E ]M A N I A N I 3 M .

333

ed, and Christianity reduced to litigious tri-
fling.

If the practice of Christ and his apostles
be in all cases binding upon Christians,
whether the reason of tlie thing be the same
or not, why do they not eat the Lord's sup-
per with unleavened bread, and in a recli-
ning posture ? And why do they not as-
semble together merehj to celebrate this or-
dinance, and that on a Lord's-day evening ?
From the accounts in 1 Cor. xi. 20, and
Acts XX. 7, two things appear to be evident :
First : That the celebration of the Lord's
supper was the specific object of the coming
together both of the church at Corinth and
of that at Troas : ihe former came together
(professedly) to eat ihe Lord's supper; the
latter are said to have come together to
break bread. Secondly: That it was on
the evening of the day. This is manifest
not only from its being called the Lord's
supper but from the Corinthians making it
their own supper, and from its being follow-
ed at Troas by a sermon from Paul which
required " hghts," and continued till " mid-
night."

I do not mean to say that the church at
either Corinth or Troas had no other wor-
ship during the first day of the week than
this ; but that this was attended to as a dis-
tinct object of assembling, and, if there were
any other, after the other was over.

it may be thought that these were mere-
ly accidental circumstances, and therefore
not binding on us. It does not appear to
me, however, that we are at liberty to turn
the Lord's supper into a breakfast. But if
we be, and choose to do so, let us not pre-
tend to a punctilious imitation of the first
churches.

It is well known to be a peculiarity in
Sandemanian societies not 1o determine any
question by a majority. They, like the first
churches, must be of one mind.; and, if
there be any dissentients who cannot be
convinced, they are excluded. Perfect
imanimity is certainly desirable, not only in
the great principles of the gospel, but in
questions of discipline, and even in the
choice of officers : but how if this be unat-
tainable ? The question is, whether it be
more consistent with the spirit and practice
of the New Testament for the greater part
of the church to forbear v/ith the less, or,
Diotrephcs-like, to cast them out of the
church ; and this for having according to
the best of their judgments acted up to the
scriptural directions? One of these modes
of proceeding must of necessity be pursued,
for there is no middle course ; and if we
loved one another with genuine Christian
affection we could not be at a loss which to
preler. The New Testament speaks of an
election of seven deacons, but says nothing
on the mode of its being conducted. Now,

considering the number of members in the
church at Jerusalem, unless they were di-
rected in their choice by inspiration which
there is no reason to think they were, it is
more than a thousand to one that those
seven persons who were chosen were not
the persons whom every individual member
first proposed. What then can we suppose
them to have done ? They might discuss
the subject till they became of one mind :
or, which is much more likely, the less num-
ber, perceiving the general wish and con-
sidering that their brethren had under-
standing as well as they, might peaceably
give up their own opinions to the greater,
"submitting one to another in the fear of
God." But supposing a hundred of the
members had said as follows : " Without re-
flecting on any who have been named, we
think two or three other brethren more an-
swerable to the qualifications required by
the apostles than some of them ; but, having
said this, we are willing to acquiesce in the
general voice" — should they or would they
have been excluded for this? Assuredly
the exclusions of the New Testament were
for very different causes !

The statements of the society in St. Mar-
tin's-le-grand on this subject are sophistical,
self-contradictory, and blasphemous. " No-
thing," say they, " is decided by the vote of
the majority.'''' In some cases indeed there
are dissenting voices. The reasons of the
dissent are thereupon proposed and consid-
ered. If they are scriptural, the whole
church has cause to change its opinion ; if
not, and the person persists in his opposition
to the word of God the church is bound to
reject him." But who is to judge whether
the reasons of the dissentients be scriptural
or not? The majority no doubt, and an
opposition to their opinion is an opposition
to the U'ord of God !

Humility and love will do great things
toward unanimity ; but this forced unanimity
is the highest refinement of spiritual tyran-
ny. It is a being compelled to believe as
the church believes, and that not only on
subjects clearly revealed and of great im-
portance, but in matters of mere opinion, in
which the most upright minds may differ,
and to \Vhich no standard can apply. What
can he who exalteth himself above all that
is called God do more than set up his decis-
ions as the \cord of God, and require men
on pain of excommunication to receive
them ?

LETTER XI.

On the Kingdom of Christ.

You are aware that (he admirers of
Messrs. Glas.s a>id ?andcman generally

3n4

FULLER ON S A N D E M A N I A N I S M .

vfiliK^ tlicrnsolves on their '• clear views oflbnt whi(;h is earthly, seritiuni. and devihsh,
liie gospel, and of the nature of Clirist's they are concerned to hiy asiile every thing
kiiiirdom:" and I doubt not but theyhavelof the kind, and to cherish the spirit of a

written things concerning both which de
serve attention. It appears to me, however,
that they have done much more in detecting
error than in advancing truth ; and that
their writings on the kingdom of Christ re-
late more to what it is not, than to what it is.
Taking up the sentence of our Lord, "My
kingdom is not of this world," they have
said much, and much to purpose, against
worldly establishments of religion, with
their unscriptural appendages ; but, after
all, have they shown what the kingdom of
Christ ?'s; and does their religion, taken as
a whole, exemplify it in its genuine simpli-
city ? If writing and talking about " simple
truth," would do it, they could not be want-
ing ; but it will not. Is there not as much
of a worldly spirit in their religion as in that
which they explode, only that it is of a dif
ferent species ? Nay, is there not a greater
defect among them in what relates to right-
eousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit,"
than will often be found in what they de-
nominate Babylon itself?

A clear view of the nature of Christ's
kingdom would hardly be supposed to over-
look the apostle's account of it. " The
kingdom of God," he saj^s, " is not meat and
drink, but righteousness, peace, and joy in
the Holy Spirit." From this statement we
should expect to find the essence of it placed
in things moral, rather than in things cere-
monial; in things clearly revealed, rather
than in matters of doubtful disputation ; and
in things of prime importance, rather than
in those of but comparatively small account.
We certainly should not expect to see the
old error of the Pharisees revived, that of
tithing mint and rue to the neglect of judg-
ment, mercy, and the love of God.

We should also expect the most eminent
mibjects of this kingdom would be men who,
while they conscientiously attend to the
positive institutions of Christ, abhor the
thought of making them a substitute for so-
briety, righteousness, and godliness : men
who need not a special precept for every
duty; but, drinking deeply into the law of
love, are ready, like the father of the faith
ful, to obey all its dictates.

And, as the kingdom of God consists in
peace, we should expect its most eminent
subjects to be distinguished by that dove-
like spirit which seeks the things which
make for peace. They may indeed be calir
ed upon to contend for the faith, and that
earnestly ; but contention will not be their
element, nor will their time be chiefly occu-
pied in conversing on the errors, absurdities,
.and faults of others. Considering bitter
zeal and stTifc in. the heart as belonging to
the wi.^Joni Uiat doscendeth not from above.

new-born babt

Finally : The joys which they possess, in
having heard and believed the good news
of salvation, may be expected to render
them dead to those of the world ; so much
so, at least, that they will have no need to
repair to the diversions of the theatre, or
other carnal pastimes, in order to be happy ;
nor will they dream of such methods of as-
serting their Christian liberty, and opposing
Pharisaism.

Whether these marks of Christ's Bubjects
be eminently conspicuous, among the peo-
ple alluded to, those who are best acquaint-
ed with them are able to determine ; but, so
far as appears from their writings, whatever
excellences distinguish them, they do not
consist in things of this nature.

It is remarkable that the apostle, after rep-
resenting the kingdom of God as being
" not meat and drink, but righteousness,
peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit," adds,
for he that in these things serveth Christ
is acceptable to God and approved of men.
Let us therefore follow after the things
which make for peace, and things where-
with one may edify another." This not
only shows what the prominent features of
Christ's kingdom are, but affords a striking
contrast to the kingdom contended for by
Sandemanians, which, instead of recom-
mending itself to both God and man, would
seem rather to have been copied from the
religion of that people who " pleased not
God, and were contrary to all men."

The substitution of Ibrmsand ceremonies
lor the love of God and man is one of the
many ways in which depravity has been
wont to operate. What else is Paganism,
apostate .Tudaism, Popery and many odier
things which pass for religion ? And wheth-
er the same principle does not pervade the
system in question, and even con&titute one
of its leading features, let the impartial ob-
server judge. If it does not place the king-
dom of God in meat and drink, it places it
in things analogous to tliem, rather than in
righteousness, peace, and joy, in the Holy
Spirit

It is true tlie forms contended for in this
case are not the same as in many others,
being such only as are thought to be enjoin-
ed in the scriptures. That many of them
arise from a misunderstanding of the scrip-
tures, I have endeavored to show in a for-
mer letter ; but, whether it be so or not, if
an improper stress be laid upon them they
may be as injurious as though they were
not scriptural. When the brazen serpent
became an idol it was as pernicious as other
idols. The tithing of lierb.s, though in it-
self right, yet, being done to tlie neglect of

FULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

335

" weightier matters,'"' became the very char-
acteristic of hypocrisy.

It has been said that obedience to the
least of God's commands cannot be un-
friendly to obedience to the greatest ; and
if it be genuine it cannot ; but to deny the
possibility of the great things of God's law
neing set aside by a fondness Ibr little things,
is to deny the fact just referred to, and dis-
covers but a slender acquaintance with the
human heart, which certainly can burn in
zeal for a ceremony, when, as to the love
of God and man, it is as cold as death.

If the nature of Christ's kingdom were
placed in those things in which the apostle
places it, the government and discipline of
the church would be considered as means
and not as enck. The design of order and
discipline in an army is to enable it to en-
counter the enemy to advantage ; and such
was the order and discipline of the primitive
churches. It was still, peaceable and af-
fectionate, without parade and without dis-
putes. It consisted in all things being done
to edifying, and in such an arrangement of
energies as that every gift should be em-
ployed to the best advantage in building up
the church and attacking the kingdom of
Satan. But is this the order and discipline
of which so much has of late been written?
Surely not ! From the days of Glass and
Sandeman until now, it does not appear to
have been their object to convert men to
Christ from among the ungodly, but to
make proselytes of other Christians. And
is this to undersland the true nature of
Christ's kingdom? If there were not an-
other fact, this alone is sufficient to prove
that their religion, though it may contain a

fiortion of truth, and though godly men may
lave been mislead by it, yet taken as a
whole, is not of God. There is not a surer
mark of false religion than its tendency and
aim being to make proselytes to ourselves
rather than converts to Christ. Acts xx.
30.

That there is neither tendency in the sys-
tem nor aim in those who enter fully into it
to promote the kingdom of Christ, is mani-
fest, and easily accounted for. They nei-
ther expect, nor, as it would seem, desire
its progress, but even look with a jealous
eye on all opinions and efforts in favor of its
enlargement ; as though, should it be great-
ly extended, it must needs be a kingdom of
this world ! This, I am aware, is a serious
charge, but it does not originate with me.
Mr. Braidwood. of Edinburgh, who must be
allowed to have tiie best opportunities of
knowing the system and its adherents, and
who cannot be supposed to write under the
influence of prejudice, seeing he acknowl-
edges he has "learned many things from
the ancient writings of this class of profess-
ing Chri.'^iiai:,' in relation (o Ihc simple doc-

trine of the gospel and the nature of Christ's
kingdom ;" Mr. Braidwood, I say, writes as
follows : " I feel it incumbent on me to warn
the disciples of Jesus against tliat state of
mind which makes them slow to believe the
prophecies relating to the extent of the Re-
deemer's kingdom." " 1 1 is remarkable that
some Gentile Christians now show a dispo-
sition toward the Jews, similar to that which,
in the apostolic age, the Jews manitlsted
toward the Gentiles, namely a dii^like to
their salvation ! It is truly mortifying to
reflect that the greater number of those who
indulge this state of mind are persons much
instructed in the knowledge of the gospel
and of the things concerning the kingdom
of God. They call it a Jewish notion to
expect an extensive influence of the word
of God among all nations. The very oppo-
site is the fact ; for the apostle Paul, describ-
ing his countrymen, says, 'They please not
God, and are contrary to all men, forbid-
ding us to speak unto the Gentiles that they
might be saved.' And even believing Jews
were not very willing to acknowledge the
first Gentile converts, and were surprised
when they heard that God had also granted
to the Gentiles repentance unto life. But
the apostle thus describes the spirit by
which he regulated his own conduct : ' I
please all men in all things, not seeking
mine own profit, but the profit of many, that
they may be saved !'

" The freeness, of divine grace, its sove-
reignty, its opposition to the most darling
inchnations of the human heart, the spiritual
and heavenly nature of Christ's kingdoiu —
all these have been used as arguments
against the conversion of the Jews, or any
signal prosperity of the gospel among the
Gentiles ! And they whose hearts' desire
and prayer to God for Israel, and for the
nations, is that they may be saved, are ac-
cused of ignorance of the gospel, and of
wishing to see a corrupt faith prevail, es-
pecially if they dare to express a hope that
their prayers will be answered !"

It would seem, hence, to be the interest
of this class of professing Christians that
the world and the church should continue
what they are. They glory in the latter
being few in number: if, therefore, any
considerable part of mankind were to em-
brace even what they account the truth, they
would have nothing left in comparison
whereof to glory I

Mr. Braidwood addresses the party on
whom he animadverts as follows: "'Will
the purest and simplest views that can be
entertained of the truth concerning Jesus
have any tendency to make us less concern-
ed about the salvation of men, and more
anxious to darken the things revealed in
the scriptures concerning the success of the
gospel among all nations ? IN'o, my friend,

33G

FULLER ON S A N D EM AN I AN I S M.

1-et us beware of imputing to tlic gospel a
state of mind which so ill accords witli its
genuine influence, and which can arise only
from prejudice and from mistakeii vieivs of
the Messiah''s kingdom. That glorious
kingdom, instead of dying away, as some
have supposed, like an expiring lamp, be-
fore the advent of its eternal king, shall
break in pieces and consume all opposing
kingdoms, and shall stand forever, although
its own subjects, acting consistently, use no
carnal weapons." — Lctlers, i^-c. pp. 28, 30.

The writer to whom these excellent re-
marks are addressed, signs himself Pate-
wow. I know not who he is ; but, as the
signature is the same as that affixed to Mr.
Sandeman's Letters on Therou and Aspasio,
I conclude he is and wislies to be thought a
Sandemanian. Mr. Braidwood calls him
his " friend,-' and speaks of his being "morti-
fied" by these his erroneous sentiments, as
though he had a feeling lor Patenion's gen-
eral creed, or that '• instruction in the knowl-
edge of the gospel and of the things con-
cerning the kingdom of God" which he and
others had received. For my part, without
deciding upon the state of individuals, I am
persuaded that these people, with all their
professions of " clear views," " simple
truths," and "simple belief," have imbibed
a corrupt and dangerous system of doctrine.

Paloemon, whoever he is, would do well
to examine himself icheiher he be in the
faith : and, were I in Mr. Braidwood's
place, I should feel it to be my duty to re-
examine what I had '• learneil from the an-
cient writings of this class of professing
Christians relative to the simple doctrine of
the gospel and the nature of Christ's king-
dom ;" and to ask myself what I had asked
my friend, Whether that can be pure and
siraple truth which is productive of such ef-
fects 7

LETTER XIT.

The spirit of the system, compared with that
of primitive Christianity.

You are aware that doctrines, whether
true or false, if really believed, become prin-
ciples of action. They are a mould into
which the mind is cast, and from which it
receives its impression. An observant eye
will easily perceive a spirit which attends
different religions, and different systems of
the same religion ; which over and above
the diversities arising from natural temper,
will manifest itself in tlieir respective ad-
herents. Paganism, Mahomedanism, De-
ism, apostate Judaism, and various systems
which have appeared under the name of
Christianity, have each discovered a spirit
oi' its own ; and so has Christianity itself

Tlius it was from the beginning : those who
received " another doctrine" received witii
it " another spirit ;" and hence we are told
of "the spirit of truth, and the spirit of er-
ror:" he that had the one was said to be
" of God," and he that had the odier " not
of God."

I hope it will be understood that in what
I write on this subject there is no reference
to individuals, nor any wish to judge men
indiscriminately by tlie names under which
tliey pass, nor any desire to charge the
evils which may belong to the system on all
who have discovered a partiality in its favor,
or who have defended particular parts of it.
1 shall only take a brief review oi' the spirit
which is of God, and compare that of Mr.
Sandeman and the generahty of his admi-
rers with it.

First : The spirit of primitive Christiani-
ty was full of the devout and the affectionate.
Of this there needs little to be said in a way
of proof, as the thing is evident to any one
who is acquainted with the Bible. The
Psalms of David are full of it ; and so is the
New Testament. Primitive Christianity
was the religion of lore. It breathed grace,
mercy, and peace, on all that loved the
Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. Among
such it would not break a bruised reed, nor
quench the smoking flax. Its faithfulness
was tempered with brotherly kindness. It
had compassion for the ignorant, and them
that were out of the way ; and, while siding
with God against the wicked, it wept over
them, and was willing to do or suffer any
thing, if by any means it might save some
of them. But is this Sandemanianism '?
You will scarcely meet with terms express-
ive of devotion or affection in any of its pro-
ductions, unless it be to hold them up to ridi-
cule. It appears to be at war with all de-
votion and devout men. Its most indignant
opposition and bitterest invectives are re-
served for them. Its advocates would have
you think, indeed that it is blind devotion,
like that of the Pharisees, at which tliry
sneer : but where are we to look for that
which is not so, and with which tlicy are
not at war ? Is it to be found out of their
own connections? Every thing there which
has the appearance of religion is pharisaism.
It must therefore be among theuis' Ives if
any where. But if the spirit of " love,
peace, long-suffering, gentleness, good-
ness, meekness," &c. prevail in their assem-
blies, it is singular that the same spirit
should not appear in their writings. Who
that has read them will s:iy that their gene-
ral tendency is to promote the love of either
God or man? Toward worldly men, in-
deed, who make no ])rctence to religion, the.
system seems to bear a friendly aspect : but
it discovers no concern for their salvation.
It would seem to have no tears to shed over

FULLER ON S A N D E M A N I A N I S M.

337

a perishing world ; and even looks with a
jealous eye on those that have, glorying
in the paucity of its numbers !

Whether the advocates of this system
perceive the discordance between their own
spirit and that of David, or whatever is the
reason, it is common for them to apply to
Christ a great deal of what he manifestly
wrote of his own devout feeling. Christ, it
seems, might be the subject of devotion
without any danger of self-righteous pride ;
but we cannot, and therefore must have
little or nothing to do with it.

It is among people of this description that
TeWgious feelmgs and affections are ordina-
rily traduced. There are no doubt, many
enthusiastic feelings, which have no true
religion in them. There is such a thing too
as to make a Saviour of them as well as of
our duties. But we must not on this ac-
count exclude the one any more than the
other. President Edwards, in his Treatise
on Religious Affections, has proved beyond
all reasonable contradiction that the essence
of true rehgion lies in them. In reading
that work, and Mr. Sandeman's Letters, we
may see many of the same things exposed
as enthusiastic ; but the one is an oil that
breaketli not the head, the other an effusion
of pride and bitterness. The former while
rejecting what is naught, retains the savor
of pure, humble and holy religion : but the
latter is as one who should propose to re-
move the disorders of the head by means of
a guillotine.

It has been observed that every religion
which, instead of arising from love to the
truth, has its origin in dislike or opposition,
even though it be to error, will come to
nothing. You may sometimes see the prin-
cipal inhabitants of a village fall out with
the clergyman, perhaps on account of some
difference on the subject of tithes, and pro-
ceed to build a place lor dissenting worship :
also dissenting congregations themselves
will sometimes divide from mere antipathy
to thepreacher, or from offence takenat some
of the people : but did you ever know such
undertakings productive of much good?
Whenweadhereto a system of religion from
opposition to something else, we do not so
much regard it for what it is as for what it
is not. Whatever good, therefore, there
may be in it, it will do us no good, and we
shall go on waxing worse and worse. It
is remarkable that the Sadducees, according
to Prideaux, professed, at their outset, the
strictest adherence to the vritten word, ut-
terly renouncing the traditions of the elders,
tchich th e Pharisees had agreed to hold. In
a little time, however, they rejected a great
part of the word itself, and its most import-
ant doctrines, .such as the resurrection and
a future life. This was no more than might
have been expected ; for the origin of the

Vol.. 3.— Qq.

system was not attachment to the word, but
dislike to the Pharisees.

How far these remarks apply to the reli-
gion in question, let those who are best ac-
quainted with it judge. It doubtless con-
tains some important truth, as did Saddu-
ceeism at its outset ; but the spirit which
pervades it must render it doubtful whether
this be held for its own sake so much as
from opposition to other principles. If truth
be loved for its own sake, ii will occupy our
minds irrespective of the errors which are
opposed to it, and whether they exist or not.
But by the strain of writing and conversa-
tion which prevails in this connection,
it would seem that the supposed absurdities
of others are the life of their religion, and
that if these were once to cease their zeal
would expire with them. It is the vulture,
and not the dove, that is apparent in all
their writings. Who will say that Mr.
Sandeman sought the good of his oppo-
nents, when all through his publications he
took every opportunity to hold them up to
contempt ; and with evident marks of pleas-
ure to describe them and their friends as
walking in a devout path to hell ? The
same is manifestly the spirit of his followers,
though they may not possess his sarcastic
talents. But are these the weapons of
the Christian warfare ? Supposing Fla-
vel, Boston, the Erskines, &c., to have been
bad men, was this the way to deal with
them ? Is there no medium between flat-
tery and malignity ?

Mr. Sandeman would persuade us that
Paul was of his '' temper."* Paul was cer-
tainly in earnest, and resisted error wherev-
er he found it. He does not, however, treat
those who build on a right foundation,
though they raise a portion of what will be
ultimately consumed, as enemies to the
truth.! And in his conduct, even to the ene-
mies of Christ, I recollect no sarcastic
sneers, tending to draw upon them the
contempt of mankind, but every thing cal-
culated to do them good. If, however, it
were not so, he must have practised differ-
ently from what he wrote. " The servant
of the Lord," he says in his Epistle to Timo-
thy, " must not strive (as for mastery ;) but
be gentle unto all men ; in meekness in-
structing those that oppose themselves : if
God peradventure will give them repentance
to the acknowledging of the truth." Paul
would have instructed and intreated those
whom Mr. Sandeman scorned.

There is a calmness, I acknowledge, in
the advocates of this doctrine, which dis-
tinguishes their writings from the low and
fulsome productions of the English Antino-
mians. But calmness is not always oppo-
sed to bitterness: on the contrary, it may

' Epistiilan' C'lrrespciiidcm;
r 1 Cor. iii.' 11—15.

p. 9

338

PULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM.

be studied for the very purpose of conceal-
ing it. " The words of his mouth were
smoother than butter, but war was in his
heart : his sayings were softer than oil, yet
were they drawn swords."

The only thing that I know of which has
the appearance of love is that attachment
which they have to one another, and which
they consider as love for thetrutli's sake. But
even here there are things whicli I am not
able to reconcile. Love for the truth's sake
unites the heart to every one in proportion
as he appears to embrace it : but the nearer
you approach to these people, provided you
follow not with them, so much the more bit-
ter are their invectives. Again : Love for
the truth's sake takes into consideration its
practical effects. It was truth embodied in
the spirit and life that excited attachment
of the apostle John : '' I rejoiced greatly
that I found of thy children walking intrutli.''^
But that which excites their love seems to
be the " clear views" which they conceive
their friends to entertain above other pro-
fessing Christians. Once more : Love, be
it for the sake of what it may, will so unite
us to one another as to render separation
painful, and lead to the use of all possible
means of preventing it. But such is the
discipline of those who drink into these prin-
ciples, that, for differences which others
would consider as objects of forbearance,
they can separate men from their commu-
nion in considerable numbers, with little or
no apparent concern. I can reconcile such
things with self-love ; but not with love for
the truth''s sake.

Secondly: The spirit of primitive Chris-
tianity was a spirit of meekness and humil-
ity. Of this Christ himself was the great
pattern ; and they that would be his disci-
ples must " learn of him who was meek and
lowly of heart." They were unbelievers,
and not Christians, who " trusted in them-
selves that they were righteous, and despi-
sed others." He that would be wise was
required to become a fool that he might be
wise.

The apostle Paul, notwithstanding his
high attainments in the knowledge ot
Christ, reckoned himself as knowing noth-
ing comparatively, de.siring above all things
" that he might know him, and the power of
his resurrection, and the fellowship of his suf-
ferings, and be made conformable unto his
death." If any man " thought that he knew
any thing," he declared that he knew " noth-
ing yet as he ought to know." But is this the
spirit of the system in question? One of
the first things that presents itself is a pre-
tence to something very nearly akin to in-
fallibility ; an imposing air in all its deci.t!-
ions. tending to bear down timid spirits,
especially as the sincerity and consequent-
ly the Christianity of the party is suspend-

ed upon his entirely yielding himself up tc
it.

If it be necessary to become fools that
we may be wise, how are we to account
for those " clear views of the gospel" of
which these people boast? They have
given abundant proof that they account
others fools who do not see with them ; and
they may account themselves to have been
such till they imbibed their present princi-
ples ; but, if any symptoms have appeared
of their being fools in their own eyes from
that time forivard, they have escaped my ob-
servation. Instead of a self-difRdent spirit,
which treats with respect the understanding
of others, and implores divine direction, no
sooner have these principles taken posses-
sion of a man than they not only render
him certain that he is in the right, but in-
stantly qualify him to pronounce on those
who follow not with him as destitute of the
truth.

We may be told, however, that there ia
one species of pride, at least, of Avhich the
system cannot be suspected, namely, that
of self righteousness, seeing it is that against
which its abettors are constantly declaim-
ing. But he that would know the truth
must not take up with mere professions.
If a sell-righteous spirit consist in "trusting
in themselves that they are righteous, and
despising others," I see not how they are
to be acquitted of it. A self-righteoua
spirit and its opposite will be allowed to be
drawn with sufficient prominency in the
parable of the Pharisee and the publican.
The question is, which of these character.?
is exemplified by those who enter fully into
the Sandemanian system ? Is it the publi-
can ? Look at it. I am aware that he is
the favorite of the party, and so he is of
other parties ; for you never heard of any
who were the professed advocates of the
Pharisee ; but are they of the spirit of the
publican ? Rather, are they not manifestly
of the spirit of the Pharisee, who looked
down with scorn upon his fellow-worship-
per ?

Mr. Braidwood, referring to a late publi-
cation by one of this class of professing
Christians, who calls himself Si7nple.v,
writes as follows : " The work referred to
seems intended chiefly to show how much
Simple.v, and they who agree with him,
despise others, and liow far they alone are
from trustinsr to themselves that they are
righteous. This their apparent inconsisten-
cy, their confident assertions when no proof
is given, their unfeeling and indiscriminate
censures (which therefore cannot be always
just,) and their fearless anathemas against
all who follow not with them, prevent them
from obtaining a hearing, not only from
those whom they might be warranted to
consider as false professors, but from disci-

FULLER ON SANDEMANIANISM,

339

pies of Christ, who need to be taught the
way of God more perfectly. And in this
also they glory.

" If they would suffer an exhortation
•from a fellow-sinner, I would entreat iheni
to recollect that the Pharisee, praying in
the temple, disdained the publican, while
the publican disdained no man and had
nothing to say except what regarded him-
self and THE Most High. 'God be mer-
ciful to me a sinner.'. They will never suc-
cessfully combat self-righteousness till they
themselves become poor and of a cordrile
spirit. The most effectual way to condemn
pride is to give an example of humility.

" Self-abasement corresponds with the
humbling doctrine of Christ crucified ; while
the indulgence of an opposite spirit, in con-
nection with clear views of the freedom
and sovereignty of divine grace, presents
a most unnatural and unedifying object —
the publican turning the chase upon the
Pharisee, and combating him with his own
weapons! Nay, he who professes to ac-
count himself the chief of sinners, having
once begun to imitate an example so re-
pugnant to the genuine influence of the
doctrine for which he contends, now pro-
ceeds to attack all who come in his way —
self condemned publicans, not entirely of
his own mind, as well as proud Pharisees,
avowing their impious claims upon the Di-
vine Being. May we not ask, Who art
thou that judgest?''^ — Letters, <^c., Introduc-
tion.

As to Mr. Braidwood's allowing them to
possess " clear views of the freedom and
sovereignty of divine grace," I do not un-
derstand how such views can accompany,
and still less produce, such a spirit as he
has described; but, with regard to the
spirit itself, it is manifestly drawn from life.
and is of greater effect than if he had
written a volume on the subject. Whether
his observations do not equally apply to
that marked separation of church-mem-
bers from others in public worship, said to
be practised of late in Ireland, and to which
he refers in page 32, let those who have
their senses exercised to discern both good
and evil judge.

Lastly: The spirit of primitive Christi-
anity was catholic and pacijic. Its lan-
guage is, '• Grace be with all them that
love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity."
" As many as walk by this rule (that is, the
cross of Christ,) peace be on them, and
mercy, and upon the Israel of God." "All
that in every place call upon the name of
Jesus Christ, our Lord, both theirs and ours,
grace be unto Ihem, and peace, from God
oyr Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ."

There were cases in which the apostles
and first Christians were obliged to with-
draw even from brethren who walked dis-

orderly; but this would give them pain.
And, if the disordered state of the Chris-
tian world at present render it necessary
for some of the friends of Christ to with-
draw from others, it must needs, to a truly
good man, be a matter of deep regret. It
will be his concern, too, to diminish the
breach rather than to widen it : to consider
the things wherein he agrees with others,
and, as far as he conscientiou.«ly can, to act
with them. If we see individuals, or a
community, who, instead of such regret,
are generally employed in censuring all
who follow not with them, as enemies to
the truth ; and, instead of acting with them
in things wherein they are agreed, are stu-
dious to render the separation as wide as
possible, and glory in it — can we hesitate
to say this is not Christianity?

There is a zeal which may properly be
denominated catholic, and one which may
as properly be denominated sectarian. It
is not supposed that any man, or body of
men, can be equally concerned in promoting
Christ's mterest in all places. As our pow-
ers are limited, we must each build the
wall, as it were, over against our own hou-
ses. Nor are we obliged to be equally con-
cerned for the prosperity of all religious
undertakings in which the parties may be
in the main on the side of Christ. It is
right that we should be most interested in
that which approaches the nearest to truth
and true religion. But true catholic zeal
will nevertheless have the good of the uni-
versal church of Christ for its grand object,
and will rejoice in the prosperity of every
denomination of Christians, in so far as
they appear to have the mind of Christ.
Those who builded the wall against their
own houses would not consider themselves
as the only builders, but would bear good
will to their brethren, and keep in view the
rearing of the whole wall, which should en-
compass the city. As it is not our being
of the religion of Rome, nor of any other
which happens to be favored by the state,
that determines our zeal to be catholic, so
it is not our being of a sect or party of
Christians, or endeavoring with Christian
meekness and frankness to convince others
of what we account the mind of Christ,
that gives it the character of sectarian. It
is a being- more concerned- to propagate
those things wherein we differ from other
Christians than to impart the common sal-
vation. Where this is the case we shall so
limit the kingdom of heaven to ourselves
as nearly to confine our good wishes, pray-
ers, and efforts to our own denomination,
and treat all others as if we had nothing to
do with them in religious matters but in a
wav of censure and dispute. Wherein this
kind of zeal differs from tlyit of the Phari-
sees that compasscil sea and land to make

340

FULLER ON S A N D EM A NI A N I S M,

I roselytes, but who, when made, were turn-
ed to tliejn rather tlian to God, I cannot
understand.

It is remarkable that, notwithstanding all
that has been written by the advocates of
this system about a free gospel to the un-
godly, they do not seem to have much to
do in laboring for the conversion of men of
this description. Their principal attention,
like that of the Socinians, seems directed
toward religious people of other denomina-
tions, and from them their forces have been
mostly recruited. This may not have been
universally the case, but from every thing
that I have seen and heard it is very gene
rally so : and, if this do not betray a zeal
more directed to the making of proselytes
to themselves than of converts to Christ, it
will be difficult to determine what does.

The zeal of the apostles was directed to
the correction of evils, the healing of differ
ences, and the uniting of the friends of Je
BUS Christ ; but the zeal produced by this
system appears to be of a contrary tenden-
cy. Wherever it most prevails, we hear
most o{' bitterness, contention, and division.

It may be said, this is no more than was
true of the gospel itself, which set a man
at variance with his father, his mother, and
his nearest friends ; and relates not to what
it causes, but to what, through the corrup-
tions of men, it occasions. The words of
our Lord, however, do not describe the bit-
terness of believers against unbelievers, but
of unbelievers against believers, who, as
Cain hated his brother, hate them for the
gospel's sake.

It has been said that " the poignancy of
Mr. Sandeman's words arises from their
being true." The same might be said, and
with equal justice, of any other "bitter
words," for which men of contemptuous
spirits know how to " whet their tongues."
If the doctrine which Mr. Sandeman taught
were true, it would do good to them that

believed it. It certainly produces its own
likeness in them ; but what is it ? Is it not
'• trusting in themselves that they are right-
eous, and despising others?" Is it not
descrying the mote in a brother's ej^e, while
blinded to the beam in their own ?

There is a very interesting description
given in the Epistle of James of two oppo-"
site kinds of wisdom. The former is repre-
sented as coming " from above ;" the latter
as " coming not from -above," but as being
" earthly, sensual, devilish." That is " first
pure, then peaceable, gentle, easy to be en-
treated, full of mercy and good fruits, with-
out partiality, and without hypocrisy :" this
works " bitter zeal and strife in the heart."
" The fruit of righteousness is sown in
peace," and in making peace, by the one :
but by the other is produced " confusion,
and every evil work." Yet these latter are
supposed to " glory ;" but in glorying they
"lie against the truth." Without wishing
to ascribe either to bodies of people indis-
criminately, there is enough said to enable
us to form a judgment of things by the ef-
fects which they produce.

To conclude. — It is no part of my design
to vindicate or apologize for the errors of
other denominations. The Christian church
is not what it was at the beginning ; and
though every body of Christians is not
equally corrupt, yet none is so pure but that,
if its character were reported by the great
Head of the church, he would have " some-
what against" it. But, whatever errors or
evils may be found in any of us, it is not
this species of reform, even if it were uni-
versally to prevail, that would correct them.
On the contrary, if we may judge from its
effects during the last fifty years, it would
lead the Christian world, if not to down-
right infidelity, yet to something that comes
but very little short of it.

I am your affectionate Friend and Broth-
er, ANDREW FULLER.

THE END.

MEMOIRS

OF THE LATE

REV. SAMUEL P E A R C E , A,.vJ^i^

WITH EXTRACTS FROM SOME OF HIS MOST

INTERESTING LETTERS

COMPILED By ANDREW FULLER, D. D.

Oh Jonathan, thou wast slain upon thy high places. I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan \— David.

INTRODUCTION.

It was observed by this excellent man,
during his last atfliction, that he never till
then gained any personal instruction from
our Lord's telhng Peter, by ivhat death he
should glorify God. To die by a consump-
tion, had used to be an object of dread to
him : But, " Oh my Lord, (said he,) if by this
death I can most glorify thee, I prefer it
to all others." The lingering death of the
cross, by which our Saviour himself expi-
red, afforded him an opportunity of utter-
ing some of the most affecting sentences
which are left on sacred record : And to the
lingering death of this his honored servant,
we are indebted for a considerable part of
the materials which appear in these Me-
moirs. Had he been taken away suddenly,
there had been no opportunity for him to
have expressed his sentiments and feelings
in the manner he has now done in letters
to his friends. While in health, his hands
were full of labor, and consequently his
letters were written mostly upon the spur
of occasion ; and related principally to bu-
siness, or to things which would be less in-
teresting to Christians in general. It is
true, even in them it was his manner to
drop a few sentiments, towards the close,
' of an experimental kind ; and many of these
hints will be interspersed in this brief ac-
count of him : But it was during his afflic-
tion, when, being laid aside nearly a year,
and obhged to desist from all public con-
cerns, that he gave scope to the feelings of
his heart. Here, standing as on an emi-
nence, he reviewed his life, re-examined
the ground of his hope, and anticipated the
crown which awaited him, with a joy truly
unspeakable and full of glon/.

Like Elijah, he has left the chariot of Is-
rael, and ascended as in a chariot of fire ;

but not without having first communicated
of his eminently Christian spirit. Oh that
a double portion of it may rest upon us !

CHAPTER I.

His Parentage, Conversion, Call to the
Ministry, and Settlement at Birming-
ham.

Mk. Samuel Pearce was born at Ply-
mouth, on July 20th, 1766. His father, who
survives him, is a respectable silversmith,
and has been many years a deacon of the
Baptist church in that place.

When a child, he lived with his grand-
father, who was very fond of him, and en-
deavored to impress his mind with the prin-
ciples of religion. At about eight or nine
years of age, he came home to his father
with a view of learning his business. As he
advanced in life, his evil propensities, as he
has said, began to ripen ; and forming con-
nections with several vicious school-fellows,
he became more and more corrupted. So
gready was his heart, at this time, set in
him to do evil, that had it not been for the
restraining goodness of God, which some-
how, he knew not how, preserved him in
most instances from carrying his wicked
inclinations into practice, he supposed he
should have been utterly ruined.

At times he was under strong convic-
tions, which rendered him miserable; but
at other times they subsided ; and then he
would return with eagerness to his sinful
pursuits. When about fifteen years old he
was sent by his lather to inquire after the
welfare of a person in the neighborhood, in
dying circumstances, who (though before
his departure he was in a happy state of
mind, yet) at that time was sjni<ing into

342

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE,

deep despair. While in tlie room of the
dying man, he heard him cry out with in-
expressible atrony of spirit, " I am damned
for ever." Tliese awful words pierced his
soul ; and he felt a resolution at the time to
serve the Lord : but the impression soon
wore off, and he again returned to folly.

When about sixteen years of age, it
pleased God effecuially to turn him to him-
self A sermon delivered by Mr. Birt, who
was then co-pastor with Mr. Gibbs, of the
Baptist church at Plymouth, was the first
mean of impressing his heart with a sense
of his lost condition, and of directing him
to the gospel remedy. The change in him
appears to have been sudden, but effectual;
and the recollection of his former vicious
propensities, though a source of bitterness,
yet furnished a strong evidence of its being
the work of God. " I believe," he says,
" few conversions were more joyful. The
change produced in my views, feelings, and
conduct, was so evident to myselfj that I
could no more doubt of its being from God,
than of my existence. I had the witness
in myself, and was filled with peace and
joy unspeakable."

His feelings being naturally strong and
receiving a new direction, he entered into
religion with all his heart ; but not having
known the devices of Satan, his soul was
entangled by its own ardor, and he was
thrown into great perplexity. Having read
Doddridge's Rise and Progress of Religion
in the Soul, he determined formally to ded-
icate himself to the Lord, in a manner re-
commended in the seventeenth chapter of
that work. The form of a covenant, as
there drawn up, he also adopted as his
own ; and that he might bind himself in
the most solemn and affecting manner,
signed it with his blood. But afterwards
failing in his engagements, he was plunged
into dreadful perplexity, and almost into
despair. On a review of his covenant, he
seems to have accused himself of Pharisai-
cal reliance upon the strength of his own
resolutions ; and therefore, taking the paper
to the top of his father's house, he tore it
into small pieces, and threw it from him to
be scattered by the wind. He did not
however, consider his obligation to be the
Lord's, as hereby nullified ; but feeling
more suspicion of himself, he depended up-
on the blood of the C7-oss.

After this he was baptized, and became
a member of the Baptist church at Ply-
mouth, the ministers and members of which,
in a few years, perceived in him talents for
pubhc work. Being solicited by both his
pastors, he exercised as a probationer ; and
receiving a unanimous call from the church,
entered on the work of the ministry in No-
vember, 178C. Soon after this he went to

the academy at Bristol, then under the su-
perintendence of Dr. Caleb Evans.

Mr. Birt, now pastor of the Baptist church
in the square, Plymouth Dock, in a letter to
the Compiler of these Memoirs, thus speaks
of him : " Though he was, so far as I know,
the very first fruits of my ministry, on my
coming hither, and though our friendship
and affection for each other were great and
constant, yet previous to his going to Bris-
tol I had but few opportunities of conver-
sing with him, or of making particular ob-
servations on him. All who best knew
him, however, will remember, and must
tenderly speak of his loving deportment;
and those who attended the conferences
with him soon received the most impressive
intimations of his future eminence as a min-
ister of our Lord Jesus Christ."

" Very few," adds Mr. Birt, " have enter-
ed upon, and gone through their religious
profession with more exalted piety, or warm-
er zeal, than Samuel Pearce ; and as few
have exceeded him in the possession and
display of that charity which 'suffereth
long, and is kind, that envieth not, that
vaunteth not itself, and is not puffed up,
that doth not behave itself unseemly, that
seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked,
thinketh no evil, that beareth all things, be-
lieveth all things, endureth all things.' But
why should I say this to you ? You knew
him yourself"

While at the academy he was much dis-
tinguished by the amiableness of his spirit
and behavior. It is sometimes observable
that where the talents of a young man are
admired by his friends, and his early efforts
flattered by crowded auditories, effects have
been produced which have proved fatal to
his future respectability and usefulness.
But this was not the case with Mr. Pearce.
Amidst the tide of popularity, which even
at that early period attended his ministerial
exercises, his tutors have more than once
remarked that he never appeared to them
to be in the least elated, or to have neglect-
ed his proper studies ; but was uniformly
the serious, industrious, docile, modest, and
unassuming young man.

Towards the latter end of 1789, he came
to the church in Cannon street, Birming-
ham, to whom he was recommended by •
Mr. Hall, now of Cambridge, at that time
one of his tutors. After preaching to them
awhile on approbation, he was chosen to
be their pastor. His ordination was in Au-
gust, 1790. Dr. Evans gave the charge,
and the late Mr. Robert Hall of Arnsby,
delivered an address to the church on the
occasion. In the year 1791, he married
Miss Sarah Hopkins, daughter of Mr. Josh-
ua Hopkins of Alcester : a connection which
appears to have been all along a source of

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

great enjoyment to him. The following
lines addressed to Mrs. Pearce when he was
on a journey, a little more than a year after
their marriage, seem to be no more than a
common letter ; yet they show, not only the
tenderness of his affection, but his heavenly
mindedness, his gentle manner of persua-
ding, and how every argument was fetched
from religion, and every incident improved
for introducing it :

" Chipping Norton, August 15, 1792.

" I believe on retrospection, that I have
hitherto anticipated the proposed time of
my return, rather than delayed the inter-
view with my dear Sarah for an hour. But
what shall I say my love now, to reconcile
you to my procrastinating my return for
several days more? Why, I will say, it
appears I am called of God ; and I trust
the piety of both of us will submit and say,
Thy will be done.

" You have no doubt perused Mr. Ry-
land's letter to me, wherein I find he solicits
an exchange. The reason he assigns is so
obviously important, that a much greater
sacrifice than we are called to make, should
not be withheld to accomplish it. I there-
fore propose, God willing, to spend the
next Lord's day ai Northampton. I thought
of taking tea with you this evening : that
would have been highly gratifying to us
both; but it must be our meat and drink to
do and submit to the will of our heavenly
Father. All is good that comes Irom him,
and all is done right which is done in obe-
dience to him. Oh to be perfectly resigned
to his disposal — how good is it ! May you,
my dearest Sarah, and myself, daily prove
the sweetness of this pious frame of soul :
then all our duties will be sweet, all our
trials will be light, all our pleasures will be
pure, and all our hopes sanctified.

" This evening I hope to be at North-
ampton. Let your prayers assist my eiforts
on the ensuing Sabbath. You will, I trust,
find in Mr. R. a ship richly laden with spir-
itual treasures. Oh for more supplies from
the exhaustless mines of grace ! S. P."

The soul of Mr. Pearce was formed for
friendship : It was natural, therefore, to sup-
pose, that while engaging in the pursuit of
his studies at the academy, he would contract
religious intimacies with some of his breth-
ren ; and it is worthy of notice, that the
grand cement of his friendship was kindred
piety. In the following letters, addressed
to his friend, Mr. Steadman, the reader will
perceive the justness of this remark, as well
as the encouraging prospects which soon
attended his labors at Birmingham :

My very t)e.\r Brother, May 9, 1792.
"You live so remote that I can hear

nothing of your prosperity at Broughton,
I hope you are settled with a comfortable
people, and that you enjoy much of your
Master's presence, both in the study and
the pulpit. For my part, I have nothing to
lament but an insensible, ungrateful heart,
and that is sufficient cause for lamentation.
This, only this, bows me down ; and under
this pressure I am ready to adopt the words
I preached from last evening: Oh that J
had wings like a dove, for then would I jiy
away and be at rest !

" As a people we are generally united ; I
believe more so than most churches of the
same dimensions. Our number of members
is about two hundred and ninety-five, be-
tween forty and fifty of whom have joined
us since I saw you, and most of them I
have the happiness of considering as my
children in the faith. There is still a cry-
ing out amongst us after salvation ; and
still, through much grace, it is my happi-
ness to point them to the Lamb of God, who
taketh away the sins of the world.

" In preaching, I have often peculiar lib-
erty ; at other times barren. I suppose my
experience is like that of most of my breth-
ren : but I am not weary of my work. I
hope still that I am willing to spend and be
spent, so that I may win souls to Christ,
and finish my course with joy ; but I want
more heart religion; I want a more habit-
ual sense of the divine presence ; I want
to walk with God as Enoch walked. There
is nothing that grieves me so much, or brings
so much darknesss on my soul, as my little
spirituality, and frequent wanderings in se-
cret prayer. I cannot neglect the duty ;
but it is seldom that I enjoy it.

"'Ye that love the Lord indeed,
Tell me is it so with you"!'

When I come to the house of God, I pray
and preach with freedom. Then I think
the presence of the people seems to weigh
more with me than the presence of God,
and deem myself a hypocrite, almost ready
to leave my pulpit, for some more pious
preacher. But the Lord does own the
word ; and again I say, if I go to hell my-
self, I will do what I can to keep others
from going thither ; and so in the strength
of the Lord I will.

" An observation once made to nie helps
to support me above water : ' II' you did
not plough in your closet, you would not
reap in the pulpit.' And again I think the
Lord dwelleth in Zion, and loveth it ovore
than the dwellings of Jacob. S. P."

'■'■Fehrvanj 1, 1793.
" The pleasure which your frieiul'.y epis-
tle gave me, rises beyond expression ; and
it is one of the first wishes of my heart
ever to live in your valued friendship. Ac-
cept tliis, and my former letters, my dear

344

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

brother, as sufficient evidences of my ar-
dent wishes to preserve by correspondence,
that mutual remembrance of each other,
which on my part will ever be pleasurable,
and on yours, I hope, never painful.

" But ah, how soon may we be rendered
incapable of such an intercourse ! When
1 left Bristol, I left it with regret. I was
sorry to leave my studies to embark (inex-
perienced as I am) on the tempestuous
ocean of public life, where the high blowino;
v/inds, and rude and noisy billows, must
more or less inevitably annoy the trembling
voyager. Nor did it make a small addition
to my pain, that I was to part with so many
of my dear companions, with Avhom I had
spent so many happy hours, either in fur-
nishing or unburthening the mind. I need
not say, among the first of these I consider-
ed Josiah Evans. But ah, my friend, we
shall see his face no more ! Through di
vine grace I hope we shall go to him, but
he will not return to us. 'He wasted
away, he gave up the ghost, and where is
he V I was prepared for the news because
I expected it. The last time I heard direct-
ly from him, was by a very serious and af-
fectionate letter, which I received, I think,
last September. To it I replied ; but re-
ceived no answer. I conjectured, I feared ;
and now my conjectures and fears are all
realized. Dear departed youth ! thy memo-
ry %vill ever be grateful to this affectionate
breast. May thy amiable qualities live
again in thy surviving friend, that to the
latest period of his life he may thank God
for the friendship of Josiah Evans.

" I assure you, my dear Steadman, I feel,
keenly feel the force of the sentiment, which
Blair thus elegantly expresses :

' Of joys departed ne'er to be recall'd,
How painl'ul the remembrance!'

"But I sorrow not as one without hope.
I have a two-fold hope : I hope he is now
among the spirits of the just made perfect,
and that he will be of the blessed and holy
number who have part in the first resurrec
tion: and I hope also, through the same
rich, free, sovereign, ajmighty, matchless
grace, to join the number too. Pleasing
thouglit ! Unite to divide no more !

"I preached last night from Rev. xxi. 6 :
*I will give imto him that is athirst of the
fountain of the water of life freely.' I took
occasion to expound tiie former part of the
chapter, and found therein a pleasure inex-
pressible ; especially when speaking from
the first verse, ' And there was no more
sea.' The first idea which presented itself
to me was this — (here shall be no bar io in-
tercourse. Whether the thought be just or
not, I leave with you and my hearers to de-
termine: but T found liapny liberty in illus-
trating it. What is it that separates one

nation, and one part of the globe from
another? Is it not the sea? Are not
Christians, though all of one family, the
common father of which is God, separated
by this sea, or that river, or the other
stream below? Yes; but they are one
family still. There shall be none of these
obstructions to communion, of these bars
to intercourse ; nothing to divide their af-
fections or disunite their praise for ever.
Forgive my freedoms, I am writing to a
friend, to a brother. S. P."

There are few, if any, thinking men, but
who at some seasons have had their minds
perplexed with regard to religious princi-
ples, even those which are of the greatest
importance. In the end, however, where
the heart is right, they commonly issue
in a more decided attachment to the truth.
Thus it was with Mr. Pearce. In another
part of the above letter, he thus writes to
his friend Steadman : " I have since I saw
you, been much perplexed about some doc-
trinal points, both Arminian and Socinian,
I believe through reading very attentively,
but without sufficient dependence on the
Spirit ol" truth, several controversies on
those subjects ; particularly the writings of
Whitby, Priestly, and others. Indeed, had
the state of mind I was in about ten weeks
since continued, I should have been inca-
pable of preaching with comfort at all. But
in the mount of the Lord will he be seen.
Just as I thought of giving up, he Avho hath
the hearts of all men in his hand, and turn-
eth them as the rivers of water are turned,
was pleased, by a merciful though afflicting
providence, to set me at a happy liberty.

I was violently seized with a disorder
very rife here, and which carried off many,
supposed to be an inflamation in the bow-
els. One Sabbath evening I felt such
alarming symptoms that I did not expect to
see the Monday morning. In these cir-
cumstances I realized the feelings of a dy-
ing man. My mind hadbeen so accustomed
to reflect on virtue and moral goodness that,
the first thing I attempted, was a survey of
my own conduct ; my diligence and faith-
fulness in the ministry, my unspotted life,
&c., &c. But ah ! vain props these for dy-
ing men to rest on ! Such heart sins, such
corruptions and evil propensities recurred
to my mind, that if ever I knew the mo-
ment when I felt my own righteousness to
be like loathsome and filthy rags, it waa
then. And where should I, where could I,
where did I flee, but to Him whose glory
and grace I had been of late degrading, at
least in m)'' thoughts ? Yes, there I saw
peace for guilty consciences was to be alone
obtained through an almighty Saviour.
And O ! wonderful to tell, I again came to
him ; nor was I sent away without the bles-

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

345

sing. I found him full of all compassion
ready to receive the most ungrateful of men.

* O ! to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be.'

Thus, my dear brother, was the snare bro'
ken, and thus I escaped.

" ' A debtor to m«rcy alone,
Of covenant mercy I sing. '

Join with me in praising Him, who remem-
bered me in my low estate, because his
mercy endureth for ever. Yet this is among
the all things. I have found it has made
me more spiritual in preaching. I have
prized the gospel more than ever, and hope
it will be the means of guarding me against
future temptations. Your brother, with ar
dent affection, in the dear Lord Jesus.

«S. P."

From his first coming to Birmingham,
his meekness and patience were put to the
trial by an Antinomian spirit which infect-
ed many individuals, both in and out of his
congregation. It is well known with what
affection it was his practice to beseech sin
ners to be reconciled to God, and to exhort
Christians to the exercise of practical god-
liness : but these were things which they
could not endure. Soothing doctrine was
all they desired. Therefore it was, that
his ministry was traduced by them as Ar-
minian, and treated with neglect and con-
tempt. But, like his divine master, he bore
the contradiction of sinners against himself,
and this while he had the strongest satis-
faction that in those very things to which
they objected, he was pleasing God. And
though he plainly perceived the pernicious
influence of their principles upon their own
minds, as well as the minds of others, yet
he treated them with great gentleness and
long forbearance ; and when it became ne-
cessary to exclude such of this description
as were in communion with him, it was
with the greatest reluctance that he came
into that measure, and not without having
first tried all other means in vain. He was
not apt to deal in harsh language ; yet in
one of his letters about that time, he speaks
of the principles and spirit of these people
as a " cursed leaven."

Among his numerous religious friend-
ships, he seems to have formed one for the
special purpose of spiritual improvement.
This was with Mr. Summers of London,
who often accompanied him in his journeys ;
to whom, therefore, it might be "expected
he would open his heart without reserve.
Here, it is true, we sometimes see him, like
his brethren, groaning under darkness,
want of spirituality and the remains of in-
dweliitig sin ; but frequently rising above
all, as into his native element, and'pouring

Vol. 3.— Rr.

forth his ardent soul in expressions of joy
and praise. On Aug. 19, 1793, he writes
thus:

"My dear Brother,

" When I take my pen to pursue my cor-
respondence with you, I have no concern
but to communicate something which may
answer the same end we propose in our
annual journeys : viz. lending some assist-
ance in the important object of getting, and
keeping nearer to God. This I am per-
suaded is the mark at which we should be
continually aiming, nor rest satisfied until
we attain that to which we aspire. I am
really ashamed of myself, when on the one
hand, I review the time that has elapsed
since I first assumed the Christian name,
with the opportunities in godliness which
have crowded on my moments since that
period ; and when on the other, I feel the
little advance I have made ! More light,
to be sure, I have ; but light without hea.t
leaves the Christian half dissatisfied. Yes-
terday I preached on the duty of engaged-
ness in God's service, from Jer. xxx. 21,
' Who is this that engaged his heart to ap-
proach unto me ? saith the Lord.' (A text
for which I am indebted to our last jour-
ney. While urging the necessity of ^earf
religion, including sincerity and ardor, I
found myself much assisted by reflecting
on the, ardor which our dear Redeemer
discovered in the cause of sinners. ' Ah,'
I could not help saying, ' if our Saviour had
measured his intenseness in his engage-
ments for us by our fervency in fulfilling
our engagements to him, we should have
been now farther from hope than we are
from perfection.'

" ' Dear Lord, the ardor of thy love
Reproves ray cold returns.'

" Two things are causes of daily aston-
ishment to me ; the readiness of Christ to
come from heaven to earth for me ; and my
backwardness to rise from earth to heaven
with him. But oh how animating the pros-
pect ! A time approaches when we shall
rise to sink no more : to 'be for ever with
the Lord.' To be with the Lord for a week,
for a day, for an hour ; how sweetly must
the moments pass ! But to he for ever with
the Lord ; that instamps salvation with per-
fection ; that gives an energy to our hopes,
and a dignity to our joy, so as to render it
• unspeakable and full of glory !' I have
had a few realizing moments since we part-
ed, and the effect has been, I trust, a bro-
ken heart. O, my brother, it is desirable to
have a broken heart, were it only lor the
sake of the pleasure it feels in being help-
ed and healed by Jesus ! Heart affecting
views of the cursed effects of sin are highly
salutary to a Christian's growth in humili-

346

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE

ty, confidence, and gratitude. At once how
abasing and exalting is the comparison of
our loatlisome hearts with that of the love-
ly Saviour ! In him we see all that can
charm an angel's heart ; in ourselves, all
that can gratify a devil's. And yet we may
rest perfectly assured that these nests of
iniquity shall ere long be transformed into
the temple of God ; and these sighs of sor-
row be exchanged for songs of praise.

" Last Lord's day I spent the most profi-
table Sabbath to myself that I ever remem-
ber since I have been in the ministry ; and
to this hour I feel the sweet solemnities of
that day delightfully protracted. Ah, my
brother, were it not for past experience, I
should say,

' My heart presumes I cannot lose
The relish all my days.'

But now I rejoice with trembling ; desiring
to ' hold fast what I have, that no man take
my crown.' Yet fearing that I shall find
how

— 'E re one fleeting hour is past,

The llatt'ring world employs
Some sensual bait to sieze my taste,

And to pollute my joys.'

Yours, in our dear Saviour, S. P."

In April, 1794, dropping a few lines to
the Compiler of these Memoirs, on Lord's
day evening, he thus concludes : " We
have had a good day. I find, as a dear
friend once said, It is pleasant speaking
for God ichen we walk with him. Oh for
much of Enoch's spirit ! The Head of the
church grant it to my dear brother, and his
affectionate friend, S. P."

In another letter to Mr. Summers, dated
June 24, 1794, he thus writes : " We, my
friend, have entered on a correspondence
of heart with heart, and must not lose sight
of that avowed object. 1 thank you sin-
cerely for continuing the remembrance
of so unworthy a creature in your inter-
course with Heaven ; and I thank that sa-
cred Spirit, whose quickening influences
you say you enjoy in the exercise. Yes,
my brother, I have reaped the fruits of your
supplications. I have been indulged with
eome seasons of unusual joy, tranquil as
solitude, and solid as the rock on which our
hopes are built. In public exercises, pecu-
liar assistance has been afforded ; especial-
ly in these three things— the exaltation
of the Redeemer's glory ; the detectioaof
the crooked way.s, false refuges, and self-
delusions of the human heart ; and the stir-
ring up of the saints to press onward, ma-
king God's cause their own, and consider-
ing themselves as living not for themselves,
but for him alone.

"Nor hath the word been without its ef-

fect; above fifiy have been added to our
church this year, most of whom I rejoice
in, as the seals of my ministry in the Lord.
Indeed I am surrounded with goodness ;
and scarce a dcay passes over my head, but
I say, were it not for an ungrateful heart I
should be the happiest man alive ; and that
excepted, I neither expect nor wish to be
happier in this world. My wile, my child-
ren, and myself are uninterruptedly healthy ;
my friends kind ; my soul at rest ; my la-
bors successful, &c. Who should be con-
tent and thankful, if I should not? Oh, my
brother, help me to praise ! S. P."

In a letter to Mrs. Pearee, from Ply-
mouth, dated Sept. 2, 1794, the dark side
of the cloud seems towards him : " I
have felt much barrenness, says he, as to
spiritual things, since I have been here,
compared with my usual frame at home ;
and it is a poor exchange to enjoy the crea-
ture at the expense of the Creator's pres-
ence : a few seasons of spirituality I have
enjoyed ; but my heart, my inconstant heart,
is too prone to rove from its proper centre.
Pray for me, my dear, my dearest friend !
I do for you daily. Oh wrestle for me, that
I may have more of Enoch's spirit ! I am
fully persuaded that a Christian is no longer
really happy, and inwardly satisfied, than
whilst he walks with God ; and I would this
moment rejoice to abandon every pleasure
here ibr a closer walk with him. I cannot,
amidst all the round of social pleasure,
amidst the most inviting scenes of nature,
feel that peace with God which passeth
understanding. My thirst for preaching
Christ, I fear, abates, and a detestable van-
ity for the reputation of a ' good preacher'
(as the world terms it) has already cost me
many conflicts. Daily I feel convinced of
the propriety of a remark which my friend
Summers made on his journey to Wales,
that ' It is easier for a Christian to walk
habitually near to God, than to be irregular
in our walk with him.' But I want resolu-
tion ; I want a contempt for the world ;. I
want more heavenly-mindedness ; I want
more humility ; I want mucii, very much of
that, which God alone can bestow. Lord,
help the weakest Iamb in all thy flock !

" I preached this evening from Cant. ii.
3 : ' I sat down under his shadow with great
delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.'
But how little love for my Saviour did I feel !
with what little affection and zeal did I
speak ! I am, by some, praised ; I am fol-
lowed by many ; I am respected by mcst of
my acquaintances ; but all this is nothing,
yea, less than notliing. compared with pos-
sessing ' this testimony, that I phase God.
Oh thou friend of sinners, humble me by
repentance, and melt me down with love !

" To-morrow morning I set ofl' for Laun-

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE

347

reston. I write to-night, lest my stay in
Cornwall might make my delay appear te-
dious to the dear and deserving object of my
most undissemhled love. Oh, my Sarah,
had I as much proof that I loved Jesus Clirist
as I have of my love to you^ I should prize
it more than rubies ! As often as you can
find an hour lor correspondence, think of
your more than ever affectionate.

"S. P."

In another to Mr. Summers, dated Nov.
10, 1794, he says : " I suppose I shall visit
London in the spring. Prepare my way by
communion both with God and man.
hope your soul prospers. I have enjoyed
more of God within this month than ever
since the day of my espousals with him
Oh, my brother, help me to praise 1 I can-
not say that I am quite so exalted in my
frame to-day ; yet still I acknowledge what
I have lived upon for weeks. That were
there no being or thing in the universe, be-
side God and me, I should be at no loss
for happiness. Oh,

' 'Tis heaven to rest in his embrace
And no where else but there.'

s. p.

CHAPTER II.

His laborious exertiotis in promoting Mis-
sions to the Heathen^ and offering himself
to become a Missionary.

Mr. Pearce has been uniformly the
spiritual and the active servant of Christ;
but neither his spirituality nor his activity
Avould have appeared in the manner they
have, but for his engagements in the intro-
duction of the gospel among the heathen.

It was not long after his settlement at
Birmingham, that he became acquainted
with Mr. Carey, in whom he found a soul
nearly akin to his own. When the brethren
in the counties of Northampton and Leices-
ter formed themselves into a Missionary
Society at Kettering, in Oct. 1792, he was
there, and entered into the business with
all his heart. On his return to Birming
ham, he communicated the subject to his
congregation with so much effect, that to
the small sum of £13 2^. 3c/., with which
the subscription was begun, was added £70,
which was collected and transmitted to the
treasurer ; and the leading members of the
church formed themselves into an Assistant
Society. Early in the following spring,
when it was resolved that our brethren,
Thomas and Carey, should go on a mission
to the Hindoos, and a considerable sum of
money was wanted for the jnirpose, he la-
bored with increasing ardor in various parts
of the kingdom; and when tlie object was

accomplished, he rejoiced in all his labor,
smiling in every company, and blessing
God.

During his labors and journeys, on this
important object, he wrote several letters to
his friends, an extract or two from which,
will discover the state of his mind at this
period, as well as the encouragements that
he met with in his work at home :

TO MR. STEDMAN.

" Birmingham^ February 8, 1793.
"My very dear Brother,

" Union of sentiment often creates friend-
ship among carnal men, and similarity of
feeling never fails to produce affection
among pious men, as far as that similarity
is known. I have loved you ever since I
knew you. We sav.^, we felt alike in the
interesting concerns of personal religion.
We formed a reciprocal attachment. We
expressed it by words. We agreed to do
so by correspondence ; and we have not al-
together been wanting to our engagements.
But our correspondence has been interrupt-
ed, not, I believe, through any diminution
of regard on either side : I am persuaded
not on mine. I rather condemn myself as
the first aggressor ; but I excuse while I con-
demn, and so would you, did you know half
the concerns which devolve upon me in my
present situation. Birmingham is a central
place ; the inhabitants are numerous ; our
members are between three and four hun-
dred. The word preached has lately been
remarkably blessed. In less than five
months I baptized nearly forty persons, al-
most all newly awakened. Next Lord's
day week I expect to add to their number.
These persons came to my house to propose
ihe most important of all inquiries : What
must we do to be saved V I have been thus
engaged some weeks during the greatest
part of most days . This with four sermons
a week, will account for my neglect. But
your letter, received this evening, calls forth
every latent affection of my heart for you.
We are, my dear brother, not only united
in the common object of pursuit — Salvation;
not only rest our hopes on the same founda-
tion— Jesus Christ ; but we feel alike re-
specting the poor heathens ! Oh, how Chris-
tianity expresses the mind ! What tender-
ness for our poor fellow sinners ! What
sympathy for their moral misery ! What
desires to do them everlasting good doth it
provoke ! How satisfying to our judgments
is this evidence of grace ! How gratifying
to our present taste are these benevolent
breathings ! Oh, how I love that man
whose soul is deeply affected witli the im-
portance of the precious gospel to idola-
trous heathens ! Excellently, my dear
brother von observe, that, great as its bless-

348

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

ings are in the estimation of a sinner called
in a Christian country, inexpressibly great-
er must they shine on the newly illuminated
mind of a converted pagan.

" We shall be glad of all your assistance
in a pecuniary way, as the expense will be
lieavy. Dear brother Carey has paid us a
visit of love this week. He preached ex-
cellently to-night. I expect brother Thomas
next week or the week after. I wish you
would meet him here. I have a house at
your command, and a heart greatly attach
ed to you. S. P."

TO MR. FULLER.

'' February 2Z, 1793.

" I am willing to go any where, and do
.iny thing in my power ; but I hope no plan
will be suffered to interfere with the affect-
ing, hoped for, dreaded day, March 13, (the
day of our brethren, Carey and Thomas's
solemn designation at Leicester.) Oh, how
the anticipation of it at once rejoices and
afflicts me. Our hearts need steeling to
part with our much-loved brethren, who
are about to venture their all for the name
of the Lord Jesus. I feel my soul melting
within me when I read the twentieth chap-
ter of the Acts, and especially verses 36 —
38. But why grieve ? We shall see them
again : Oh, yes : them, and the children
whom the Lord will give them ; we, and
the children whom the Lord hath given us.
We shall meet again: not to weep and
pray, but to smile and praise. S. P."

From the day of the departure of the
Missionaries, no one was more importunate
in prayer than Mr. Pearce ; and on the
news of their safe arrival, no one was more
filled with joy and thankfulness.

Hitherto we had witnessed his zeal in
promoting this important undertaking at
home ; but this did not satisfy him. In Oc-
tober, 1794, we were given to understand
that he had ibr some time had it in serious
contemplation to go himself, and to cast in
his lot with his brethren in India. When
his designs were first discovered, his friends
and connections were much concerned about
it, and endeavored to persuade him that
he was already in a sphere of usefulness
too important to be relinquished. But his
answer was, that they were too interested
in the affair to be competent judges, and
nothing would satisfy him short of his' ma-
king a formal offer of his services to the
committee : nor could he be happy for the^n
to decide upon it, without their appointing
a day of solemn prayer for the purpose, and
Avhen assembled, hearing an account of the

principal exercises of his mind upon the About a month preceding the decision of
subject, with the reasons which induced him! this affair, he drew up a nairative oi his

to make the proposal, as well as the reasons
alleged by his connections against it.

On Oct. 4, 1794, he wrote to an intimate
friend, of whom he entertained a hope that
he might accompany him, as follows :

" Last Wednesday I rode to Northamp-
ton, where a ministers' meeting was held
on the following day. We talked much
about the mission. We read some fresh
and very encouraging accounts. We la-
mented that we could obtain no suitable
persons to send out to the assistance of our
brethren. Now what do you think waa
said at this meeting ? My dear brother, do
not be surprised that all present united in
opinion, that in all our connection there was
no man known to us so suitable as you, pro-
vided you were disposed for it, and things
could be brought to bear. I thought it
right to mention this circumstance ; and
one thing more 1 cannot refrain from saying,
that were it manifestly the will of God, I
should call that the happiest hour of my life,
which witnessed our botk embarking with
our families on board one ship, as helpers
of the servants of Jesus Chsist already in
Hindostan. Yes, I could unreluctantly
leave Europe and all its contents for the
pleasures and perils of this glorious service.
Often my heart m the sincerest ardors thus
breathes forth its desires unto God : ' Here
am I, send me !' But I am ignorant wheth-
er you from experience can realize my feel-
ings. Perhaps you have friendship enough
for me to lay open your meditations on this
subject in your next. If you have had half
the exercises that I have, it will be a relief
to your laboring mind : or, if you think I
have made too free with you, reprove me,
and I will love you still. O if I could find
a heart that had been tortured and ravished
like my own in this respect, I should form a
new kind of alliance, and feel a friendship
of a novel species. With eagerness should
I communicate all the vicissitudes of my sen-
sations, and with eagerness listen to a reci-
tal of kindred feelings. With impatience I
should seek, and with gratitude receive di-
rection and support, and, I hope, feel a new
occasion of thankfulness, when I bow my
knee to the Father of mercies and the God
of all comfort. Whence is it that I thus
write to you, as I have never written to any
one before? Is there a fellowship of the
Spirit ; or is it the confidence that I have in
your friendship that thus directs my pen ?

Tell me dear , tell me how you have

felt, and how you still feel on this interest-
ing subject, and do not long delay the grati-
fication to your very affectionate friend and
brother. S. P."

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE

349

experience respecting it ; resolving at the
same time to set apart one day in every
week for secret fasting and prayer to God
for direction ; and to keep a diary of the
exercises of his mind during the month.

When the committee were met at North-
ampton according to his desire, he present-
ed to them the narrative ; and which was
as follows :

" October 8, 1794. Having had some
peculiar exercises of mind relative to my
personally attempting to labor for the dear
Redeemer amongst the heathen ; and being
at a loss to know what is the will of the
Lord in this matter respecting me, I have
thought that I might gain some satisfaction
by adopting these two resolutions ; First,
That I will as in the presence of God, faith-
fully endeavor to recollect the various work-
ings of my mind on this subject, from the
first period of my feeling any desire of this
nature until now, and commit them to wri-
ting; together with what considerations do
now, on the one hand, impel me to the work,
and on the other, what prevent me from im-
mediately resolving to enter upon it. Sec-
ondly, That I will from this day keep a
regular journal, with special relation to this
matter.

" This account and journal will, I hope,
furnish me with much assistance, in forming
a future opinion of the path of duty ; as
well as help any friends whom I may here-
after think proper to consult, to give me
suitable advice in the business. Lord, help
me !

" It is very common for young converts
to feel strong desires for the conversion of
others. These desires immediately followed
the evidences of my own religion : and I
remember well they were particularly fixed
upon the poor heathens. I believe the first
week that I knew the grace of God in truth,
I put up many fervent cries to Heaven in
their behalf; and at the same time felt a
strong desire to be employed in promoting
their salvation. It was not long after, that
the first settlers sailed for Botany Bay. I
longed to go with them although in compa-
ny with the convicts, in hopes of making
known the blessings of the great salvation
iti New Zealand. I actually had thought
of makiiig an effort to go out unknown to
my friends ; but ignorant how to proceed, I
abandoned my purpose. Nevertheless, I
could not help talking about it : and at one
time a report was circulated that I was re-
ally going ; and a neighboring minister very
seriously conversed with me upon the sub-
ject.

" While I was at the Bristol Academy,
the desire remained ; but not with that en-
ergy as at first, except on one or two occa-
sions. Being sent by my tutor to preach

two Sabbaths at Coldford, I felt particular
sweetness in devoting the evenings of
the week to going from house to house
among the colliers, who dwell in the Forest
of Deane, adjoining the town, conversing
and praying with them, and preaching to
them. In these exercises I found the most
solid satisfaction that I have ever known in
discharging the duties of my calling. In a
poor hut, with a stone to stand upon, and a
three-legged stool for my desk, surround-
ed with thirty or forty of the smutty neigh-
bors, I have felt such an unction from above,
that my whole auditory have been melted
into tears, whilst directed to ' the Lamb of
God which taketh away the sins of the
world ;' and I, weeping among them, could
scarcely speak, or they hear, for interrupt-
ing sighs and sobs. Many a time did I
then think. Thus it was with the apostles of
our Lord, when they went from house to
house among the poor heathen. In work
like this, I could live and die. Indeed, had
I at that time been at liberty to settle, I
should have preferred that situation to any
in the kingdom with which I was then ac-
quainted.

" But the Lord placed me in a situation
very different. He brought me to Birming-
ham ; and here, among the novelties, cares,
and duties of my station, I do not rem.em-
ber any wish for foreign service, till after a
residence of some months I heard Dr. Coke
preach at one of Mr. Wesley's chapels, from
Psalm Ixviii. 31. ' Ethiopia shall soon
stretch out her hands unto God.' Then it
was, that in Mr. Home's phrase, ' I felt a
passion for missions.' Then I felt an inter-
est in the state of the heathen world far
more deep and permanent than before, and
seriously thought how I could best promote
their obtaining the knowledge of the cruci-
fied Jesus.

"As no way at that time was open, I
cannot say that I thought of taking a part
of the good work among the heathen abroad ;
but resolved that I would render them all
the assistance I could at home. My mind
Avas employed during the residue of that
week in meditating on Psalm Ixvii. 3, ' Glo-
rious things are spoken of thee, O city of
God ;' and the next Sabbath morning I
jspoke from those words. On the promised in-
crease of the church of God. I had observ-
ed that our monthly meetings for prayer
had been better attended than the other
prayer meetings, from the time that I first
knew the people in Cannon street: but I
thought a more general attention to them
was desirable. I therefore preached on the
Sabbath-day evening preceding the next
monthly prayer-meeting, from Matt. vi. 10,
' Thy kingdom come ;' and urged with ar-
dor and affection a universal union of the
serious part of the congregation in this ex-

350

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE

crcise. It rejoiced me to see three times
as many the next night as usual ; and for
some lime after that, I had nearly equal
cause for joy.

"As to my own part, I continued to
preach much upon the promises of God re-
Bpecting the conversion of the heathen na-
tions ; and by so doing, and always com-
municating to my people every piece of in-
formation I could obtain respecting the
present state of missions, they soon imbibed
the same spirit : and from that time to
this they have discovered so much concern
for the more extensive spread of the gospel,
that at our monthly prayer-meetings both
stated and occasional, I should be as much
surprised at the case of the heathen being
omitted in any prayer, as at an omission of
the name and merits of Jesus.

" Indeed it has been a frequent mean of
enkindling my languid devotion, in my pri-
vate, domestic, and public engagements in
prayer. When I have been barren in pe-
titioning for myself, and other things, often
have I been sweetly enlarged when I came
to notice the situation of those who were
perishing for lack of knowledge.

" Thus I went on praying, and preaching,
and conversing on the subject, till the time
of brother Carey's ordination at Leicester,
May 24, 1791. On the evening of that day,
he read to the ministers a great part of his
manuscript, since published; entitled, An
Inquiry into the Obligations of Cliristians
to use Means for the Conversion of the
Heathens. This added fresh fuel to my zeal.
But to pray and preach on the subject, was
all I could then think of doing. But when I
heard of a proposed meeting at Kettering,
Oct. 2, 1792, for the express purpose of con-
sidering our duty in regard to the heathens,
I could not resist my inclination for going ;
although at that time I was not much ac-
quainted with the ministers of the North-
amptonshire association. There I got my
judgment informed, and my heart increa-
singly interested. I returned home resolved
to lay myself out in the cause. The public
steps I have taken are too well known to
need repeating; but my mind became now
inclined to so among the heathen myself
Yet a consideration of my connections with
the dear people of God in Birmingham,
restrained my desires, and kept me from
naming my Avishes to any body, (as 1 re-
member) except to brother Carey. With
him I was pretty free. We had an interest-
ing conversation about it just before he left
Europe. I shall never foriret the manner of
liis sayinij, ' Well, you will come after us.'
My heart said, Amen ! and my eagerness
for the work increased ; though I never
talked freely about it, except to my wife,
fuid we both then thought that my relation
to die church in Cannon street, and useful-

ness there, forbade any such an attempt.
However I have made it a constant matter
of prayer, often begging of God, as I did
when first I was disposed for the work of
the ministry, either that he would take away
the desire, or open a door for its fulfilment.
And the result has uniformly been, that the
more spiritual I have been in the frame of
my mind, the more love I have felt for God ;
and the more communion I have enjoyed
with him, so much the more disposed have
I been to engage as a missionary among
the heathen.

" Until the accounts came of our breth-
ren's entrance on the work in India, my
connections in Europe pretty nearly balan-
ced my desire for going abroad ; and
though I felt quite devoted to the Lord's
will and work, yet I thought the scale ra-
ther preponderated on the side of my abi-
ding in my present situation.

" But since our brethren's letters have in-
formed us that there is such prospects of
usefulness in Hindostan; that priests and
people are ready to hear the word ; and
that preachers are a thousand times more
wanted, than people to preach to, my heart
has been more deeply affected than ever
with their condition ; and my desires for a
participation of the toils and pleasures,
crosses and comforts of which they are the
subjects are advanced to an anxiety which
nothing can remove, and time seems to in-
crease.

" It has pleased God also lately to teach
me more than ever, XhaX himself is the foun-
tain of happiness ; that likeness to him,
friendship for him, and communion with
him, form the basis of all true enjoyment ;
and that this can be attained as well in an
eastern jungle, among Hindoos and Moors,
as in the most polished parts of Europe.
The very disposition, which, blessed be my
dear Redeemer ! he has given me, to be
any thing, do any thing, or endure any
thing, so that his name might be glorified —
I say, the disposition itself is heaven begun
below. I do feel a daily panting after more
devotedness to his service, and I can never
think of my suffering Lord, without dissolv-
ing into love ; love which constrains me to
glorify him with my body and spirit, which
are his.

" I do often represent to myself all the
possible hardships of a mission, arising from
my own heart, the nature of the country,
domestic connections, disappointment in my
hopes, &c. &c. And then I set over against
them all, these two thoughts: I am God^s
servant and, God is my friend. In this, I
anticipate happiness in the midst of suffer-
ing, liffht in darkness, and life in death.
Yea, I do not count my life dear unto my-
s(;lf, so that I may win some poor heathens
unto Christ ; and I am willing to be offered

MEMOIRS OB^ PEARCE.

35t

as a sacrifice on the service of the faith of
the gospel.

"Mr. Home justly observes, 'that, in
order to justify a man's undertaking the
work of a missionary, he should be qualified
lor it, disposed heartily to enter upon it, and
free from such ties as exclude an engage-
ment.' As to the first, other.s must judge
for me ; but they must not be men who have
an interest in keeping me at home. I shall
rejoice in opportunities of attaining to an
acquaintance with the ideas of judicious and
impartial men in this matter, and with them
I must leave it. A willingness to embark
in this cause I do possess : and I can hardly
persuade myself that God has for ten years
inclined my heart to this work without hav-
ing any thing for me to do in it. But the
third thing requires more consideration ;
and here alone I hesitate." Here he goes
on to state all the objections from this quar-
ter, with his answers to them, leaving it
with his brethren to decide when they had
heard the whole.

The committee, after the most serious
and mature deliberation, though they were
fully satisfied as to brother Pearce's qualifi-
cations, and greatly approved of his spirit,
yet were unanimously of opinion that he
ought not togo ; and that not merely on ac-
count of his connections at home, which
might have been pleaded in the case of
brother Carey, but on account of the mis-
sion itself, which required his assistance in
the station which he already occupied.

In this opinion brother Carey himself
with singular disinterestedness of mind, af-
terwards concurred ; and wrote to brother
Pearce to the same effect.

On receiving the opinion of the commit-
tee, he immediately wrote to Mrs. P. as fol-
lows :

" Northampton Nov. 13, 1794.
"My dear Sarah,

" I am disappointed, but not dismayed. I
ever wish to make my Saviour's will my
own. I am more satisfied than ever I ex
pected I should be with a negative upon
my earnest desires, because the business
has been so conducted, that I think, (if by
any means such an issue could be insured)
the mind of Christ has been obtained. My
dear brethren here have treated the affair
with as much seriousness and affection as I
could possibly desire, and, I think, more than
so insignificant a worm could expect. Af-
ter we had spent the former part of this day
in fasting and prayer, with conversation on
the subject, till near two o'clock, brother
l^otts. King, and I retired. We prayed
while the conmiittee consulted. The case
seemed difficult, and 1 suppose they were
nearly two hours in deciding. At last, tme
forced them to a point ; and their answer I

inclose for your satisfaction. Pray take
care of it; it will serve forme to refer to
when my mind may labor beneath a burden
of guilt another day.

" I am my dear Sarah's own S. P."

The decision of the committee, though it
rendered him much more reconciled to
abide in his native country than he could
have been without it; yet did not in the
least abate his zeal for the object. As he
could not promote it abroad, he seemed re-
solved to lay himself out more for it at home.
In March, 1795, after a dangerous illness,
he says, in a letter to Mr. Fuller, " Through
mercy I am almost in a state of convales-
cence. May my spared life be Avholly de-
voted to the service of my dear Redeemer.
I do not care where I am, whether in Eng-
land or in India, so I am employed as he
would have me ; but surely we need pray
hard that God w'ould send some more help
to Hindostan."

In January, 1796, when he was first in-
formed by the Secretary, of a young man,
(Mr. Fountain) being desirous of going, of
the character that was given of him by our
friend Mr. Savage, of London, and of a
committee meeting being in contemplation,
he wrote tlius in answer : " Your letter, just
arrived, put — I was going to saj^, another
soul into my little body : at least it has add-
ed new life to the soul I have. I cannot be
contented with the thought of being absent
from your proposed meeting. No, no ; I
must be there, (for my own sake I mean)
and try to sing with you, ' O'er the gloomy
hills of darkness.' "*

In August, the same year, having receiv-
ed a letter from India, he wrote to Mr. Ful-
ler as follows " Brother Carey speaks in
such a manner of the effects of the gospel
in his neighborhood, as in my view promi-
ses a fair Illustration of our Lord's parable,
when he compared the kingdom of heaven
to a little leaven, hid in three measures of
meal, which insinuated itself so effectually
as to leaven the lump at last. Blessed be
Ciod, the leaven is already in the meal.
The fermentation is begun ; and my hopes
were never half so strong as they are now,
that the whole shall be effectually leavened.
O that I were there to ^citneas the delightful
progress! But whitiier am I running?
.... I long to write to you from Hindostan .'"

On receiving other letters from India, in
January, 1797, he thus writes: "Perhapn
you are now rejoicing in spirit with nie over
f>esh intelligence from Bengal. This mo-
ment have I concluded reading two let-
ters from brother Thomas : one to the So-
ciety, and the other to myself He speaks

• The 128 Hymn of Dr. Uippoirsgdlecliuii, freqiirntl/
sun? at crtir committee meetings.

352

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

of others from brother Carey. I hope they
are already in your possession. If his cor-
respondence has produced the same effects
on your heart as brother Thomas's has on
mine, you are filled with gladness and hope.
I am grieved that I cannot convey them to
you immediately. I long to witness the
pleasure their contents Avill impart to all
whose hearts are with us. O that I were
accounted worthy of the Lord to preach the
gospel to the Booteas !"

Being detained from one of our mission
meetings by preparing the Periodical Ac-
counts for the press, he soon after wrote as
follows : '■ We shall now get out No. IV.
very soon. I hope it will go to the press
in a very few days. Did you notice, that
the very day on which we invited all our
friends to a day of prayer on behalf of the
mission, (Dec. 28, 1796) was the same in
which brother Carey sent liis best and most
interesting accounts to the Society? I
hope you had solemn and sweet seasons at
Northampton. On many accounts I should
have rejoiced to have been with you : yet I
am satisfied that on the whole I was doing
best at home." It has been already observ-
ed that for a month preceding the decision
of the committee, he resolved to devote one
day in every week to secret prayer and
fasting, and to keep a diary of the exercises
of his mind during the whole of that period.
This diary was not shown to the committee
at that time, but merely the preceding nar-
rative. Since his death a few of them have
perused it ; and have been almost ready to
think, that if they had seen it before, they
dared not oppose his going. But the Lord
hath taken him to himself. It no longer re-
mains a question now, whether he shall la-
bor in England or in India. A few passa-
ges, however, from this transcript of his
heart, while contemplating a great and dis-
interested undertaking, will furnish a better
idea of his character than could be given by
any other hand.

" Oct. 8, 1794. Had some remarkable
freedom and affection this morning, both in
family and secret prayer. With many
tears I dedicated myself, body and soul, to
the service of Jesus; and earnestly im
plored satisfaction respecting the path of
duty. I feel a growing deadness for all
earthly comforts ; and derive my happiness
immediately from God himself. May I still
endure, as Moses did, by seeing him who is
invisible ?

" Oct. 10. Enjoyed much freedom to day
in the family. Whilst noticing in prayer the
state of millions of hcatlien who know not
God, I felt the aggregate value of their im-
mortal souls with peculiar energy.

" Afterwards was much struck whilst (on
my knees before God in secret) I read the
fourtii cliapter of Micah. The ninth verse

I fancied very applicable to the church in
Cannon Street: but what reason is there
for such a cry about so insignificant a worm
as I am 1 The third chapter of Habakkuk
too well expresses that mixture of solemnity
and confidence with which I contemplate the
work of the mission,

" Whilst at prayer-meeting to night, I
learned more of the meaning of some pas-
sages of scripture than ever before. Suita-
ble frames of soul are like good lights, in
which a painting appears to its full advan-
tage. I had often meditated on Phil. iii. 7,
8, and Gal. vi. 14: hwinever felt crucifixion
to the world, and disesteem for all that it
contains as at that time. All prospects of
pecuniary independence, and growing rep-
utation, with which in unworihier moments
I had amused myself, were now chased from
my mind : and the desire of living wholly
to Christ swallowed up every other thought.
Frowns and smiles, fulness or want, honor
and reproach, were now equally indifferent ;
and when I concluded the meeting, my
whole soul felt, as it were, going after the
lost sheep of Christ among the heathen.

" I do feel a growing satisfaction in the
proposal of spending my whole life in some-
thing nobler than the locality of this island
will admit. I long to raise my Master's
banner in climes where the sound of his
fame hath but scarcely reached. He
hath said, for my encouragement, that all
nations shall flow unto it.

" The conduct and success of Stach, Boon-
ish, and other Moravian missionaries in
Greenland, both confound and stimulate me.
O Lord, forgive my past indolence in thy ser-
vice, and help me to redeem the residue of
my days for exertions more worthy a friend
of mankind and a servant of God.

" Oct. 13. Being taken up with visitors
the former part of the day, I spent the after
part in application to the Bengal language,
and found the difficulties I apprehend van-
ish as fast as I encountered them. I read
and prayed, prayed and read, and made no
small advances. Blessed be God ?

'' Oct. 15. There are in Birmingham fifty
tliousand inhabitants ; and exclusive of the
vicinity, ten ministers who preach the funda-
nientai truths of the gospel. In Hindostan
there are twice as many millions of inhabi-
tants ; and not so many gospel preachers.
Now Jesus Christ hath commanded his min-
isters to go into all the world, and preach the
gospel, to every creature. Why should we
be so disproportionate in our labors ? Pe-
culiar circumstances must not be urged
against positive commands ; I am therefore
bound, if others do not go, to make the
means more proportionate to the multitude.

" To night, reading some letters from
brother Carey, in which he speaks of his
wife's illnes.j when she first came into the

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

353

country, I endeavored to realize myself not
only with a eick, but a dead wife. The
thought was like a cold dagger to my heart
at first ; but on recollection I considered that
the same God ruled in India as in Europe ;
and that he could either preserve her, or
support me, as well there as here. My
business is only to be where he would have
me. Other things I leave to him. O Lord,
though with timidity, yet I hope not without
satisfaction, I look every possible evil in the
face, and say, ' Thy will be done.'

" Oct. 17. This is the first day I have set
apart for extraordinary devotion in relation
to my present exercise of mind. Rose
earlier than usual, and began the day in
prayer that God would be with me in every
part of it, and grant that the end I have in
view may be clearly ascertained— the knowl-
edge of his will.

" Considering the importance of the work
before me, I began at the foundation of all
religion, and reviewed the grounds en
which I stood ; the being of a God, the re
lation of mankind to him, with the divine
inspiration of the scriptures ; and the re-
view afforded me great satisfaction.* I al-
so compared the different religions which
claimed divine origin, and found little diffi-
culty in determining which had most inter-
nal evidence of its divinity. I attentively
read, and seriously considered Doddridge's
three excellent sermons on the evidences of
the Christian religion, which was followed
by such conviction, that I had hardly pa-
tience to conclude the book before I fell on
my knees before God to bless him for such a
religion, established on such a basis ; and I
have received more solid satisfaction this
day upon the subject than ever I did be-
fore.

" I also considered, since the gospel is true,
since Christ is the head of the church, and
his will is the law of all his followers, what
are the obligations of his servants in re-
spect of the enlargement of his kingdom.
I here referred to our Lord's commission,
•which I could not but consider as universal
in its object, and permanent in its obliga-
tion*. I read brother Carey's remarks up-
on it — and as the command has never been
repealed ; as there is millions of beings in
the world on whom the command may be
exercised ; as I can produce no counter rev-
elation ; and as I lie under no natural im-
possibilities of performing it, I concluded
that I as a servant of Christ, was bound by
this law.

• Tliprf is a wide difference be'ween adnjiiting these
principle? in Ihenry, and and viakin^ use of them. Da-
vid tniglit liave worn Saul's accoutrements at a parade ;
but in meeting Goliah he must go forth in an armor
that had been tried. A mariner may sit in hi? cabin at
his ease while the ship is in harbor: but ere he under-
takes a voj-apehe must examine its soimdness, and
whether it will endure the storms which may overtake
him.

Vol. 3.— Ss.

"I took the narrative of my experience, and
statement of my views on the subject in my
hand, and bowing down before God, I ear-
nestly besought an impartial and an enlight-
ened spirit. I then perused that paper ; and
can now say, that I have (allowing for my
own fallibility) no one doubt upon the sub-
ject. I therefore resolved this solemn season
with reading a portion of both Testaments,
and earnest prayer to God for my family, my
people, the heathen world, the society, and
particularly for the success of our dear
brethren Thomas and Carey, and his bles-
sing, presence, and grace to be ever my
guide and glory. Accordingly I read the
49th chapter of Isaiah ; and with what
sweetness ! I never read a chapter in pri-
vate with such feelings, since I have been
in the ministry. The 8, 9, 10, 20 and 21
verses I thought remarkably suitable.

Read also part of the epistle to the
Ephesians, and the first chapter to the
PhiUpians. O that for me to live may be
Christ alone ! Blessed be my dear Saviour
in prayer I have had such fellowship with
him, as would warm me in Greenland, com-
fort me in New Zealand, and rejoice me in
the valley of the shadow of death !

" Oct. 18. I dreamed that I saw one of the
Christian Hindoos. O how I loved him !
I long to realize my dream. How pleas-
ant will it be to sit down at the Lord's ta-
ble with our black brethren, and hear Jesua
preached in their language. Surely then
will come to pass the saying that is written,
' In Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek,
Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free, all are
ONE in him.'

" Have been happy to-day in completing
the manuscript of Periodical Accounts, No.
1. Any thing relative to the salvation of
the heathen, brings a certain pleasure with
it. I find I cannot pray, nor converse nor
read, nor study, nor preach with satisfaction
without reference to tliis subject.

" Oct 20. Was a little discouraged on
reading Mr. Zeigenbald's conferences with
the Malabarians, till I recollected, what
ought to be ever present to my mind in
brother Carey's words. The vxtrk i?
GocTs.

" In the evening I found some little diffi-
culty with the language ; but considering
how merchants and captains overcome this
difficulty for the sake of wealth, I sat con-
founded before the Lord that I should ever
have indulged such a thought ; as looking
up to him, I set about it with cheerfulness
and found that I was making a sensible ad-
vance, although I can never apply till 11
o'clock at night, on account of my others
duties.*

Nisht studies, often continued till two or three
o'clock in the morning, it is to be feared, were the first
occasion of impeirin? Mr. Tearcc's health and brought

354

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

" Preached from 2 Kings, iv. 26. ' It is
well.' Was much enlarged both in thought
and expression. Whilst speaking of the
satisfaction enjoyed by a truly pious mind,
when it feels itself in all circumstances and
times in the hand of a good God, I felt, that
were the universe destroyed, and I the only
being in it, beside God, he is fully adequate
to my complete happiness ; and had I been
in an African wood, surrounded with vene-
mous serpents, devouring beasts, and sav-
age men, in such a frame, I should be the
subject of perfect peace and exalted joy.
Yes, O my God, thou hast taught me that
THOO alone art worthy of my confidence ;
and with this sentiment fixed in my heart,
I am free from all solicitude about any tem-
poral prospects or concerns. If thy pres-
ence be enjoyed, poverty shall be riches,
darkness light, affliction prosperity reproach
my honor, and fatigue my rest : and thou
hast said. ' My presence shall go with
thee.' Enough, Lord, I ask for nothing,
nothing more.

" But how sad the proofs of our depravity ;
and how insecure the best frames we enjoy !
Returning home, a wicked expression from
a person who passed me caught my ear,
and occurred so often to my thoughts for
some minutes, as to bring guilt upon my
mind, and overwhelm me with the shame
before God. But 1 appealed to God ibr
my hatred of all such things, secretly con-
fessed the sin of my heart, and again ven-
tured to the mercy-seat. On such occasions,
how precious a Mediator is to the soul.

" Oct. 22. I did not for the former part of
the day feel my wonted ardor for the work
of a missionary ; but rather an inclination
to consult flesh and blood, and look at the
worst side of things. I did so ; but when
on my knees before God in prayer about it,
I first considered that my judgment was
still equally satisfied, and my conscience so
convinced, that I durst not relinquish the
work for a thousand worlds. And then I
thought that this dull frame had not been
without its use ; as I was now fully convin-
ced, that my desires to go did not arise from
any fluctuation of inconsistent passions, but
the settled convictions of my judgment. I
therefore renewed my vows unto the Lord,
that let what difficulties soever be in the
way, I would (provided the society approv-
ed) surmount them all. I felt a kind of
unutterable satisfaction of mind, in my reso-
lution of leaving the decision in the hands

on that train of nervous sensations with which he was
afterwards afflicted. Tliough not much accustomed to
converse on this subject, he once acknowledged to a
brother in the ministry, that owinj;; tohis rnervated state,
he sometimes dreaded the approach of pubhc services to
such a degree, that lie would rather have submitted to
etripcR than engage in them : and that while in the pulpii
he was frequently distressed with the apprehension of
falling over it

of my brethren. May God rightly dispose
their hearts ! I have no doubt but he will,

"Oct. 23. Have found a little time to
apply to the Bengalee language. How
pleasant it is to work for God ! Love
transforms thorns to roses, and makes pain
itself a pleasure. I never sat down to any
study with such peculiar and continued
satisfaction. The thought of exalting the
Redeemer in this language, is a spur to
my application paramount to every discour-
agement lor want of a living tutor. I have
passed this day with an abiding satisfaction
respecting my present views.

" Oct. 24. O for the enlightening, enli-
vening, and sanctifying presence of God
to-day ! It is the second of those days of
extraordinary devotion which I have set
apart for seeking God, in relation to the
mission. How shall I spend it ? I will de-
vote the morning to prayer, reading, and
meditation ; and the afternoon to visiting
the wretched, and relieving the needy.
May God accept my services, guide me by
his counsel, and employ me for his praise I

" Having besought the Lord that he would
not suffer me to deceive myself in so im-
portant a matter as that which I had now
retired to consider, and exercised some
confidence that he would be the rewarder
of those Avho diligently seek him, I read
the 119th Psalm at the conclusion of my
prayer, and felt and wondered at the con-
gruity of so many of the verses to the
breathings of my OAvn heart. Often, with
holy admiration, I paused, and read, and
thought, and prayed over the verse again,
especially verses 20, 31, 59, 60, 112, 145,
146. 'My soul breaketh for the longing
that it hath unto thy judgments at all times.
I have stuck unto thy testimonies, O Lord,
put me not to shame.'

"Most of the morning I spent in serious-
ly reading Mr. Home's Letters on Mis-
sions, having first begged of the Lord to
make the perusal profitable to my instruc-
tion in the path of duty. To the interro-
gation, ' Which of you will forsake all, de-
ny himself, take up his cross, and, if God
pleases, die for his religion?' I replied
spontaneovisly. Blessed be God, I am wil-
ling ! Lord, help me to accomplish it I

" Closed this season with reading the
61st and 62nd chapters of Isaiah, and pray-
er for the church of God at large, my own
congregation, the heathens, the society,
brethren Thomas and Carey, all missiona-
ries whom God hath sent of every denomi-
nation, my own case, my wife and family,
and for assistance in my work.

" The after part of this day has been
gloomy indeed. All the painful circum-
stances which can attend my going have
met upon my heart, and formed a load al-
most iuBupportable. A number of tilings,

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

355

which have been some time accumulating,
have united their pressure, and made me
groan being burdened. Whilst at a prayer
meeting I looked round on my Christian
friends, and said to myself, A few months
more, and probably I shall leave you all !
But in the deepest of my gloom, I resolved
though faint yet to pursue, not doubting
but my Lord would give me strength equal
to the day.

" I had scarcely formed this resolution
before it occurred. My Lord and Master
was a man of sorrows. Oppressed, and
covered with blood, he cried, ' If it be pos-
sible, let this cup pass from me.' Yet in
the depth of his agonies, he added, ' Thy
will be done.' This thought was to me
what the sight of the cross was to Bunyan's
pilgrim ; I lost my burden. Spent the re
mainder of the meeting in sweet commu
nion with God.

" But on coming home, the sight of Mrs.
P. replaced my load. She had for some
time been much discouraged at the thoughts
of going. I therefore felt reluctant to say
any thing on this subject, thinking it would
be unpleasant to her : but though I strove
to conceal it, an involuntary sigh betrayed
my uneasiness. She kindly inquired the
cause. I avoided at first an explanation,
till she, guessing the reason, said to this ef
feet: ' I hope you will be no more uneasy
on my account. For the last two or three
days, I have been more comfortable than
ever in the thought of going. I have con
sidered the steps you are pursuing to know
the mind of God, and I think you cannot
take more proper ones. When you consult
the ministers, you should represent your
obstacles as strongly as your inducements ;
and then, if they advise your going, though
the parting from my friends will be almost
insupportable, yet I will make myself as
happy as I can, and God can make me
happy any where.'

"Should this little Diary fall into the
hands of a man having the soul of a mis-
sionary, circumstanced as I am, he will be
the only man capable of sharing my peace,
my joy, my gratitude, my rapture of soul.
Thus at evening tide it is light ; thus God
brings his people through fire and through
water into a wealthy place ; thus those who
ask do receive, and their joy is full. ' O
love the Lord, ye his saints: there is no
want to them that fear him !'

" Oct. 26. Had much enlargement this
morning, whilst speaking on the nature,
extent and influence of divine love ; what
designs it formed — with what energy it
acted — with what perseverance it pursued
its object — what obstacles it surmounted
what difficulties it conquered — and Avhat
sweetness it imparted under the heaviest
loads, and severest trials ! Almost through

the day I enjoyed a very desirable frame,
and on coming home, my wife and I had
some conversation on the subject of my
going. She said, though in general the
thought was painful, yet there were some
seasons when she had no preference, but
felt herself disposed to go or stay, as the
Lord should direct.

" This day wrote to brother Fuller, brief-
ly stating my desires, requesting his advice,
and proposing a meeting of the committee
on the business. I feel great satisfaction
arising from my leaving the matter to the
determination of my honored brethren, and
to God through them.

" Oct. 27. To-day I sent a packet to our
brethren in India. I could not forbear tell-
ing brother Carey all my feelings, views,
and expectations: but without saying I
should be entirely governed by the opinion
of the society.

" Oct. 28. Still panting to preach Jesus
among my fellow sinners to whom he is
yet unknown. Wrote to Dr. Rogers, of
Philadelphia, to-day, upon the subject, with
freedom and warmth ; and inquired wheth-
er, whilst the people of the United States
were forming societies to encourage arts,
liberty and emigration, there could not a
few be found among them who would form
a society for the transmission of the word
of hfe to the benighted heathens ; or in
case that could not be, whether they might
not strengthen our hands in Europe, by
some benevolent proofs of concurring with
us in a design, which they speak of with
such approbation? With this I sent Home's
Letters. I will follow both with my pray-
ers, and who can tell ?

Oct. 29. Looked over the Code of
Hindoo Laws to-day. How much is there
to admire in it, founded on the principles
of justice. The most salutary regulations
are adopted in many circumstances. But
what a pity that so much excellence should
be abased by laws to establish or counte-
nance idolatry, magic, prostitution, prayers
for the dead, false-witnessing, theft and sui-
cide. How perfect is the morality of the
gospel of Jes\is ; and how desirable that
they should embrace it ! Ought not means
to be used ? Can we assist them too soon ?
There is reason to think that their Shasters
were penned about the beginning of the
Kollee Jogue, which must be soon after the
deluge : and are not four thousand years
long enough for one hundred millions of men
to be under the empire of the devil ?

"Oct. 3L I am encouraged to enter up-
on this day (which I set apart for supplica-
ting God) by a recollection of his promis-
es to those who seek him. If the sacred
word be true, the servants of God can nev-
er seek his face in vain ; and as I am con-
scious of my sincerity and earnest desire

356

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

only to know his pleasure that I may perform
it, 1 fiiJ a degree of confidence that 1 shall
realize tiie fulfilment of the word on which
he ciiuseth me to hope.

'• B<3gciii the day with solemn prayer for
the assistance of the Holy Spirit in my
present exercise, that so I niight enjoy the
spirit and power of prayer, and have my
personal religion improved, as well as my
public steps directed. In this duty I found
a little quickening.

'• I then read over the narrative of my ex-
perience, and my journal. I find my views
are still the same ; but my heart is much
more established than when I began to
write.

" Was much struck in reading Paul's words
in 2 Cor. i. 17, when after speaking of his
purpose to travel for the preaching of the
gospel, he saith, ' Did I then use lightness
when I was thus minded ? Or the things
that I purpose, do I purpose according to
the flesh, that witli me there should be yea,
yea — nay, nay ? ' The piety of the apostle
in not purposing after the flesh, the seri-
ousness of spirit with which he formed his
designs, and his steadfast adherence to them
were in my view worthy of the highest ad-
miration and strictest imitation.

" Thinking that I might get some assist-
ance from David Brainard's experience, I
read his life to the time of his being ap-
pointed a missionary among the Indians.
The exalted devotion of that dear man al-
most made me question mine. Yet at some
seasons he speaks of sinking as well as rising.
His singular piety excepted, his feelings,
prayers, desires, comforts, hopes, and sor-
rows, are my own ; and if I could follow
him in nothing else, I knew I had been en-
abled to say this with him, ' I feel exceed-
ingly calm, and quite resigned to God re-
specting my future improvement (or sta-
tion) when and where he pleased. My faith
lifted me above the world, and removed all
those mountains, which I could not look over
of late. I thought I wanted not the favor
of man to lean upon ; for I knew God's fa-
vor was infinitely better, and that, it was
HO matter where, or when, or how Christ
should send me, nor with what trials he
should still exercise me, if I might be
prepared for his work and will.'

" Read the second, third, fourth, fifth and
sixth chapters of the second epistle to the
Corinthians. Felt a kind of placidity, but
not much joy. On beginning the conclu-
ding prayer, I had no strength to wrestle,
nor power with God at all. I seemed as
one desolate and forsaken. I prayed for
myself, the society, the missionaries, the
converted Hindoos, the church in Cannon
street, my family, and ministry ; but yet all
was dulness, and I feared I had offended
the Lord. I felt but little zeal for the mis-

sion, and was about to conclude with a la-
mentation over the hardness of my heart ;
when of a sudden it pleased God to smite
the rock with the rod of his spirit, and im-
mediately the waters began to flow. O
what a heavenly, glorious, melting power
was it ! My eyes, almost closed with weep-
ing, hardly sufler me to write. I feel it
over again. O what a view of the love of
a crucified Redeemer did I enjoy ! the at-
tractions of his cross, how powertul ! I was
as a giant refreshed with new wine, as to
my animation ; like Mary at the Master's
feet weeping, for tenderness of soul ; like a
little child, for submission to my heavenly
Father's will ; and Uke Paul, for a victory
over all self-love, and creature love, and
fear of man, when these things stand in the
way of my duty. The intere.-3t that Christ
took in the redemption of the heathen, the
situation of our brethren in Bengal, the
worth of the soul, and the plain command
of Jesus Christ, together with an irresisti-
ble drawing of soul, Avhich by far exceeded
any thing 1 ever felt before, and is impossi-
ble to be described to, or conceived of by
those Avho have never experienced it; all
compelled me to vow that I would, by his
leave, serve him among the heathen. The
bible lying open before me (upon my knees)
many passages caught my eye and con-
firmed the purposes of my heart. If ever
in my lile I knew any thing of the influen-
ces of the Holy Spirit, I did at this time.
I was swallowed up in God. Hunger, ful-
ness, cold, Jieat, friends, and enemies, all
seemed nothing before God. I was in a
new world. All was delightful ; for Christ
was all, and in all. Many times I conclu-
ded prayer, but when rising from my knees,
communion with God was so desirable, that
I was sweetly drawn to it again and again,
till my animal strength was almost exhaust-
ed. Then 1 thought it would be pleasure
to burn for God.

" And noAV while I write, such a heaven-
ly sweetness fills my soul, that no exterior
circumstances can remove it ; and I do uni-
formly feel, that the more I am thus, the
more I pant for the service of my blessed
Jesus among the heathen. Yes, my dear,
my dying Lord, I am thine, thy servant;
and if 1 neglect the service of so good a
Master, I may well expect a guilty con-
science in life, and a death awful as that of
Judas or of Spira !

" This evening I had a meeting' with my
friends. Returned much dejected. Re-
viewed a letter from brother Fuller, which,
though he says he has many objections to
my going, yet is so affectionately expressed
as to yield me a gratification.

" Nov. 3. This evening received a letter
from brother Ryland. containing many ob-
jections: but contradiction itself is pleasant

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

357

when it is the voice of judgment mingled
with affection. I wish to remember that /
may be mistaken^ though I cannot say I am
at present convinced that it is so. I am
happy to find that brother Ryland approves
of my referring it to the committee. I
have much confidence in the judgment of
my brethren, and hope I shall be perlectly
satisfied with their advice. I do think, how-
ever, if they knew how earnestly I pant for
the work, it would be impossible for them
to withhold their ready acquiescence. O
Lord, thou knowest my sincerity, and that
if I go not to the work it will not be owing
to any reluctance on my part ! If I stay in
England, I fear I shall be a poor useless
drone ; or if a sense of duty prompt me to
activity, I doubt whether I shall ever know
inward peace and joy again. O Lord, I
am, thou knowest I am, oppressed; mider-
take for me !

" Nov. 5. At times to-day I have been
reconciled to the thought of staying if any
brethren should so advise ; but at other
times I seem to think I could not. I look
at brother Carey's portrait as it hangs in
my study, I love him in the bowels of Jesus
Christ, and long to join his labors ; every
look calls up a hundred thoughts, all of
which inflame my desire to be a fellow-
laborer with him in the work of the Lord.
One thing, however, I am resolved upon,
that, the Lord keeping me, if I cannot go
abroad, I will do all I can to serve the mis-
sion at home.

'• Nov. 7. This is the last day of peculiar
devotion before the deciding meeting. May
I have strength to wrestle with God to-day
for his wisdom to preside in the committee,
and by faith to leave the issue to tlieir de-
termination.

"I did not enjoy much enlargement in
prayer to-day. My mind seems at present
incapable ot those sensations of joy with
which I have lately been much indulged
through its strugglings in relation to my
going or staying : yet I have been enabled
to commit the issue into the hands of God,
as he may direct my brethren, hoping that
their advice will be agreeable to his will."

The result of the committee meeting has
already been related; together with the
state of his mind, as far as could be col-
lected from his letters, for some time after
it. The termination of these tender and
interesting exercises, and of all his other
labors, in so speedy a removal from the
present scene of action, may teach us not
to draw any certain conclusion as to the
designs of God concerning our future la-
bors, from the ardor or sincerity of our feel-
ings. He may take it well that "it was in
our hearts to build him an house," though
he should for wise reasons have determined
not to gratify us. Suffice it, that in matters

of everlasting moment he has engaged to
perfect that which concerns us." In this
he hath condescended to bind himself, a8
by an oath, for our consolation ; here there-
fore we may safely consider our spiritual
desires as indicative of his designs : but it
is otherwise in various instances with regard
to present duty.

CHAPTER III.

His exercises and labors, from the time of
his giving up the idea of going abroad,
to the comm.encement of his last affliction.

Had the multiplied labors of this excel-
lent man permitted his keeping a regular
diary, we may see by the foregoing speci-
men of a single month, what a rich store
of truly Christian experience would have
pervaded these Memoirs. We should then
have been better able to trace the gradual
openings of his holy mind, and the springs
of that extraordinary unction of spirit, and
energy of action, by which his life was dis-
tinguished. As it is, we can only collect a
few gleanings, partly from memory, and
partly from letters communicated by his
friends.

This chapter will include a period of
about four years, during which he went
twice to London to collect for the Baptist
mission, and once he visited Dublin, at the
invitation of the Evangelical Society in that
city.

There appears throughout the general
tenor of his life, a singular submissiveness
to the will of God ; and what is worthy of
notice, this disposition was generally most
conspicuous when his own will was most
counteracted. The justness of this remark
is sufficiently apparent from his letter to
Mrs. Pearce, of November 13, 1794, after
the decision of the committee ; and the
same spirit was carried into the common
concerns of life. Thus, about a month af-
terwards, when his dear Louisa was ill of
a fever, he thus writes from Northampton
to Mrs. Pearce :

'' December 13, 1794.
"My dear Sarah,

" I am just brought on the wings of celes-
tial mercy safe to my Sabbath's station. I
am well ; and my dear friends heVe seem
healthy and happy : but I feel for you. I
long to know how our dear Louisa's pulse
beats : I fear stUl feverish. We must not,
however, suffer ourselves to be infected
with a mental fever on this account. Is

she ill ? It is right. Is she very ill ?

dying? It still is right. Is she gone to
join the heavenly choristers ? It is all right,
notwithstanding our repinings Repi-

358

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

nings ! no ; we will not repine. It is best
she should go. It is best for her. This
we must allow. It is best for us. Do we
expect it? O what poor, ungrateful, short-
sighted worms are we ! Let us submit,
my Sarah, till we come to heaven : if we
do not then see that it is best, let us then
complain. But why do I attempt to con-
sole? Perhaps an indulgent Providence
has ere now dissipated your fears: or if
that same land Providence has removed
our babe, you have consolation enough in
him who suffered more than we ; and more
than enough to quiet all our passions, in
that astonishing consideration, — ' God so
loved the world, that he spared not his own
Son.' Did God cheerfully give the holy
child Jesus for us? and shall we refuse
our child to him ! He gave his Son to suf-
fer ; he takes our children to enjoy: Yes,
to enjoy himself. S. P."

In June, 1795, he attended the associa-
tion at Kettering, partly on account of some
missionary business there to be transacted.
Thfit was a season of great joy to many,
especially the last forenoon previous to
parting. From thence he wrote to Mrs.
Pearce as Ibllows :

"•From a pew in the house of God at
Kettering, with my cup of joy running
over, I address you by the hand of brother
Simmons. Had it pleased Divine Provi-
dence to have permitted your accompany-
ing me, my pleasures would have received
no small addition ; because I should have
hoped that you would have been filled with
similar consolation, and have received equal
edification by the precious means of grace
on which I have attended. Indeed, I never
remember to have enjoyed a public meeting
to such a high degree since I have been in
the habit of attending upon them. Oh
that I may return to you, and the dear
church of God, in the fulness of the bles-
sing of the gospel of Christ ! I hope, my
beloved, that you are not without the en
joyment of the sweetness and supports of
the blessed gospel. Oh that you may get
and keep near to God, and in him find infi
nitely more than you can possibly lose by
your husband's absence !

"Mr. Hall preached, last evening, from
1 Peter i. 8. A most evangelical and ex-
perimental season ! I was charmed and
warmed! Oh that Jesus may go on to re
veal himself to him as altogether lovely !
I am unable to write more now. To-day I
set off for Northampton, and preach there
to-night. The Lord bless you 1"

In July, 1795, he received a pressing in-
vitation from The general Evangelical So-
ciety in Dublin, to pay them a visit, and to
assist in diffusing the gofipel of the grace
0? God in that kingdom. To this invita-

tion he replied in the following letter, ad-
dressed to Dr. Mc Dowal :

" Birmingham, August 3, 1795.
"Rev. and dear Sir,

•' I received your favor of the 22d ult.,
and for the interesting reason you assign,
transmit a ' speedy answer.' The society,
on whose behall' you wrote, I have ever
considered with the respect due to the real
friends of the best of causes — the cause of
God and of his Christ : a cause which em-
braces the most important and durable in-
terests of our fellow men : and your name,
dear sir, I have been taught to hold in
more than common esteem by my dear
brother and father, Messrs. Birt and Fran-
cis. The benevolent institution which you
are engaged in supporting, I am persuaded
deserves more than the good wishes or
prayers of your brethren in the kingdom
and patience of Jesus, on this side the chan-
nel ; and it will yield me substantial plea-
sure to afford personal assistance in your
pious labors. But, for the present, I am
sorry to say, I must decline your proposal :
being engaged to spend a month in London
this autumn, on the business of our Mission
Society, of which you have probably heard.

" When I formed my present connections
with the church in Birmingham, I proposed
an annual freedom for six weeks from my
pastoral duties ; and should the ' Evangeli-
cal Society' express a wish for my services
the ensuing year, I am perfectly inclined,
God willing, to spend that time beneath
their direction, and at what part of the
year they conceive a visit would be most
serviceable to the good design. I only re-
quest, that should this be their desire, I
may receive the information as soon as
they can conveniently decide, that I may
withhold myself from other engagements,
which may interfere with the time they
may appoint. I entreat you to make my
Christian respects acceptable to the gentle-
men who compose the society, and assure
yourseli' tliat I am, dear sir, respectfully
and affectionately,

" Your brother in our Lord Jesus,
"S. P."

The invitation was repeated, and he
comphed with their request, engaging to
go over in the month of June, 1706.

A little before this journey, it occurred to
Dr. Ryland, that an itinerating mission in-
to Cornwall might be of use to the cause
of true religion, and that two acceptable
ministers might be induced to undertake it ;
and that if executed during the vacation at
the Bristol academy, two of the students
might supply their place. He communica-
ted his thoughts to Mr. Pearce, who wrote
thus in answer :

MEMOIRS OF PEA.RCE.

359

"May 30, 1796.
"My very dear Brother,

"I thank you a thousand times for your
last letter. Blessed be God who hath put
it into your heart to propose such a plan
for increasing the boundaries of Zion. I
have read your letter to onr wisest friends
here, and they heard it with great joy.
The plan, the place, the mode, the persons,
all, all meet our most affectionate wishes.
How did such a scheme never enter our
minds before ! Alas, we have nothing in
our hearts that is worth having, save what
God puts there. Do write to me when at
Dublin, and tell me whether it be resolved
on; when they set out, «fec. I hope ere
long to hear, that as many disciples are
employed in Great Britain, as the Saviour
employed in Judea. When he gives the
word, great will be the company of the
preachers.

" Oh, my dear brother, let us go on still
praying, contriving, laboring, defending,
until ' the little leaven leaveneth the whole
lump, and the small stone from the moun-
tain fill the whole earth.'

" What pleasures do those lose who have
no interest in God's gracious and holy
cause ! How thankful should we be, that
we are not strangers to the joy which the
friends of Zion feel when the Lord turneth
again Zion's captivity. I am beyond ex-
pression, your affectionate brother in Christ,

" S P "

On May 31, he set off for Dublin, and
*' the Lord prospered his way, so that he
arrived at the time appointed ; and from
every account it appears, that he was not
only sent iii the fulness of the blessing of
the gospel of peace, but that the Lord him-
self went with him. His preaching was
not only highly acceptable to every class
of hearers, but the word came from him
with power, and there is abundant reason
to believe, that many will, through eternity,
praise God for .sending his message to them
by this dear ambassador of Christ. His
memory lives in their hearts, and they join
with the other churches of Christ in deplo-
ring the loss they have sustained by his
death.

"He was earnestly solicited by the
Evangelical Society to renew his visit to
that kingdom in 1798. Ready to embrace
every call of duty, he had signified his
compliance ; and the time was fixed : but
the breaking out of the late rebelh'on pre-
vented him from realizing his intention.
This was a painful disappointment to ma
ny, who wished once more to see his face,
and to have heard the glad tidings from
his lips."

Such is the brief account of his visit to
Dublin, given by Dr. Mc Dowal. The

following letter was written to Mrs. Pearce,
when he had been there a little more than
a week :

'' Dublin, June 31, 1796.

" I long to know how you do, and you will
be as much concerned to know how I go on
at this distance from you. I haste to satisfy
your inquiries.

" I am in perfect health : am delightfully
disappointed with the place and its inhabit-
ants. I am very thankful that I came over.
I have found much more religion here al-
ready than I expected to meet with during
the whole of my stay. The prospect of use-
fuLiess is flattering. I have already many
more friends (I hope Christian friends) than
I can gratify by visits. Many doors are
open for preaching the gospel in the city ;
and my country excursions will probably be
few. Thus much for outline.

" But you will like to know how I spend
my time, &c. Well then : I am at the

house of Mr. H , late high sheriff for

the city : a gentleman of opulence, respecta-
bility, and evangelical piety. He is by
profession a Calvinistic Presbyterian ; an
elder of Dr. McDowal's church ; has a most
amiable wife, and four children. I am very
thankful for being placed here during mj''
stay. I am quite at home, I mean as to
ease and famiharity ; for as to style of living
I neither do, nor desire to equal it. Yet in
my present situation it is convenient. It
would however, be sickening and dull, had
I not a God to go to, to converse with, to
enjoy, and to call my men. Oh, 'tis this,
His this, my dearest Sarali, which gives a
point to every enjoyment, and sweetens all
the cup of life.

" The Lord's day after I wrote to you last,
I preached for Dr. McDowal in the morning
at half-past eleven ; heard a Mr. Kilburne
at five ; and preached again at Plunket
street at seven. On Tuesday evening I
preached at an hospital, and on Thursday
evening at Plunket street again. Yester-
day, for the Baptists in the morning. Dr.
McDowal at five, and at Plunket street at
seven.

" The hours of worship will appear singu-
lar to you: they depend on the usual V7eal
times. We breakfast at ten ; dine between
four and five, sometimes between five and
six ; take tea from seven to nine ; and sup
I'rom ten to twelve.

" I thank God that I possess an abiding
determination to aim at the consciences of
the people in every discourse. I have
borne the most positive testimony against
the prevailing evils of professors here : as,
sensuality, gaiety, vain amusements, ne-
glect of the Sabbath, &c., and last night,
told an immense crowd of professors of the
first rank, ' that if they made custom and

360

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

fashion their plea, they were awfully delu-
ding their souls ; for it had always been the
fashion to insult God, to dissipate time, and
to pursue the broad road to hell ; but it
would not lessen their torments there that
the way to damnation was the fashion.'

" I expected my faitlifulness would have
given them offence ; but I am persuaded it
was the way to please the Lord, and those
whom I expected would be enemies, are not
only at peace with me, but even renounce
their sensual indulgencies to attend on my
ministry. I do assuredly believe that God
hath sent me hither for good. The five
o'clock meetings are miserably attended in
general. In a house that will hold one
thousand five hundred, or two thousand
people, you will hardly see above fifty !
Yesterday morning I preached on the sub-
ject 0^ public worship, from Psalm v. 7, and
seriously warned them against preferring
their bellies to God, and their own houses
to his. I was delighted and surprised, at
the live o'clock meeting to see the place
nearly full. Surely this is the Lord's doing,
and it is marvellous in my eyes. Never,
never did I more feel how weak I am in
myself — a mere nothing ; and how strong
I am in the omnipotence of God. I feel a
superiority to all fear, and possess a con-
scious dignity in being the ambassador of
God. Oh help me to praise, for it is he
alone who teacheth my hands to war, and
my fingers to fight ; and still pray for me ;
for if he withdraw for a moment, I become
as weak and unprofitable as the briars of
the wilderness.

" You cannot think how much I am sup-
ported by the assurance that I have left a
foraying people at Birmingham ; and I be-
ieve, that in answer to their prayers I have
hitherto been wonderfully assisted in my
public work, as well as enjoyed much in
private devotion.

" I have formed a most pleasing acquaint-
ance with several serious young men in the
university here, and with two of the fellows
of the college ; most pious gentlemen in-
deed, who have undergone a world of re-
Eroa(,'h for Christ and his gospel, and have
een forbidden to preach in the churches by
the arch-bishop ; but God has raised ano-
ther house for them here where they preach
■with much success, and have begun a meet-
ing in the college, which promises fresh
prosperity to the cause of Jesus."

The following particulars, in addition to
the above, are taken partly from some notes
in his own hand-writing, and partly from
the account given by his friend, Mr. Sum-
mers, who accompanied him during the lat-
ter part of his visits.

At his first, arrival, the congregations
were but thinly attended, and the Baptist

congregation in particular, amongst whom
he delivered several discourses. It much
affected him to see the whole city given to
sensuality and worldly conformity ; and es-
pecially to find those of his own denomina-
tion amongst the lowest, and least affected
with their condition. But the longer he
continued, the more the congregations in-
creased, and every opportunity became in-
creasingly interesting, both to him and
them. His faithful remonstrances, and
earnest recommendations of prayer-meet-
ings to his Baptist friends, though at first
apparently ill received, were well taken in
the end ; and he had the happiness to see in
them some hopeful appearances of a return
to God. On June the 20th he wrote to his
friend, Mr. Summers, as follows :

" My dear friend,

" If you mean to abide by my opinion, I
say, come to Dublin, and come directly ! I
have been most delightfully disappointed.
I expected darkness and behold light ; sor-
row, and I have had cause for abundant joy.
I thank God that I came hither, and hope that
many as well as myself, will have cause to
praise him. Never have I been more deeply
taught my own nothingness ; never hath
the power of God more evidently rested
upon me. The harvest here is great indeed ;
and the Lord of the harvest hath enabled
me to labor in it with delight

'"I praise him for all that is past,
I trust him for all that's to come.'

" The Lord hath of late been doing great
things for Dubhn. Several of the young
men in the college have been awakened ;
and two of the fellows are sweet evangelical
preachers. One of them is of a spirit serene
as the summer evening, and sweet as the
breath ofMay. I am already intimate with
them, and have spent several mornings in
college with various students, who bid fair
to be faithful watchmen on Jerusalem's
walls. But I hope you will come ; and
then you will see for yourself. If not, I will
give you some pleasant details when we
meet in England. S. P."

Mr. Summers complied with this invita-
tion ; and of the last seven or eight days of
Mr. Pearce's continuance at Dublin he him-
self thus writes :

" Monday, July 4. At three in the after-
noon I went with my friend, Mr. Summers,

to Mr. K 's. Spent a very agreeable

day. Miss A. K. remarked two won-
ders in Dublin ; a praying society compo-
sed of students at college, and another of
la^vyers. The family were called together.
We sung : I read, and expoimded the xii.
of Isaiah, and prayed. At seven we went
to a prayer-meeting at Plunket street :

very large attendance. Mr. R and

Mr. S prayed, and I spoke from Ro-

MEMOIRS OP PEARCE

361

mans, x. 12, 13. ' There is no difference
between the Jew and the Greek ; for the
same Lord over all is rich unto all who call
upon him. For whosoever shall call upon
the name of the Lord, shall be saved.'
Many seemed affected. After I had closed
the opportunity, I told them some of my own
experience, and requested, that if any pres-
ent wished for conversation, they would
come to me, either that evening, or on
Thursday evening in the vestry. Five per-
sons came in : one had been long impress-
ed with religion, but could never summons
courage enough to open her heart before.

Another, a Miss W , attributed her

first impression, under God, to my ministry ;
and told me that her father had regularly
attended of late, and that her mother was
so much alarmed as to be almost in despair.
Poor girl ! she seemed truly in earnest
about her own soul, and as much concerned
for her parents. The next had possessed a
serious concern for some time, and of late
had been much revived. One young lady,

a Miss H , staid in the meeting house,

exceedingly affected indeed. Mr. K

spoke to her ; she said she would speak
with me on Thursday.

" Tuesday, 5th. Went to Leislip. At
seven, preached to a large and affected au-
ditory.

"Wednesday, 6th. Mr. H and

myself went to Mrs. M'G , to inquire

about the young lady who was so much af-
fected at the meeting. Mrs. M'G said

her mother and sister were pious ; that she
had been very giddy ; but that last Lord's-
day she was seriously awakened to a sense
of sin ; had expressed her delight in religion,
and fled for refuge to the blood of Jesus.
Her sister was introduced to me ; a sweet-
ly pious lady. I agreed to wait for an in-
terview with the young lady at Mr. H- 's,

in Eccles street to-morrow.

" Thursday, 7th. Miss H , her sis-
ter, and Mrs. M'G , came to Eccles

street. A most delightful interview. Sel-
dom have I seen such proficiency in so sliorl
a time. That day week, at Plunket street,
she received her first serious impressions.
Her concern deepened at Mass Lane, on
Lord's-day morning; more so in the even-
ing at Plunket-street, but most of all on
Monday night. I exhorted them to begin
a prayer and experience meeting ; and
they agreed. Blessed be God ! this
strengthens my hands greatly. At seven
o'clock, preached at Plunket street, from
Jen 1. 4, 5. 'Going and weeping — they
shall ask the way to Zion Avith their faces
thitherward.' A full house and an impres-
sive season. Tarried after the public ser-
vices were ended, to converse on religion.
The most pleasing case was a young man of
Mr. D 's.

Vol. 3.— Tr.

"Saturday, 9th. Went with my friend

Mr. S , to call on Mies H .

Found her at her mother's ; we first passed
the door; she ran out after us: seemed happy;
but agitated. Ran, and called her mother ;
soon we saw the door of the parlor open,
and a majestic lady appeared ; who, as she
entered the room, thus accosted me : ' Who
art thou, oh blessed of the Lord ? Wel-
come to the widow's house ! Accept the
widow's thanks lor coming after the child
whom thou hast begotten in the gospel !' I
was too much overcome to do more than
take by the hand the aged saint. A solemn
silence ensued for a minute or two ; when
the old lady recovering, expressed the ful-
ness of her satisfaction respecting the reali-
ty of the change effected in her daughter,
and her gratitude for great refreshment of
her own soul, by means of my poor labors.
She said, she had known the Lord du-
ring forty years, being called under the
ministry of John Fisher, in the open air,
when on a visit to an officer who was her
brother-in-law. She told us much of her
experience, and promised to encourage the
prayer-meeting, which I proposed to be held
in her house every Lord's day evening.
They are to begin to-morrow after preach-
ing. It was a pleasant meeting and we re-
turned with pleasure to Eccles street. Af-
ter we rose up to come away, the old lady
afi'ectionately said, ' May the good will of"
Him who dwelt in the bush attend you
wherever you go, for ever and ever !' "

The young lady some months after wrote

to Mr. S , and says amongst other"

things, " I have great reason to be thankful
for the many blessings the Lord has been
pleased to bestow upon me, and in particu-
lar for his sending Mr. Pearce to this
city ; and through his means I have been
convinced of sin. I am happy to inform
you, that through grace I am enabled to
walk in the narrow path. The Lord has
taken away all desire for worldly company ;
all my desires now are to attend on the
means of grace. Blessed be his name, I
often find him present in them. My mother
and I often remember the happy time we
spent in your company at our house. She
often speaks of it with great pleasure, and
lilesses the Lord for the change which
grace has wrought in me."

"Lord's-day, ^10. (The last Sabbath.)
Preached in the morning at Mary's abbey,
from Job xxxiii. 27, 2S, ' He looketh upon
men, and if any say I have sinned, and
perverteth that which was right, and it pro-
fited me not ; he will deliver his soul from
going into the pit, and his life shall see the
light.' A happy season. In the afternoon,

having dined with Mr. W , he took

me to Swift's alley, the Baptist place of'
worship where I gave an exhortation on

362

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE,

brotherly love, and administered the Lord's

supper. At Mr. W 's motion the

church requested me to look out a suitable
minister for them. In the eveninix I preach-
ed at Plunket street, from 2 Tim. i. IS,
' The Lord grant unto him that he may find
mercy of the Lord in that day !' A very
solemn season.

"Monday, 11. Met the dear Christian
friends, for the last time, at a prayer-meet-
ing in Plunket street. The Lord was there !
Several friends spent the evening with us
afterwards at Mr. H 's.

" Tuesday, 12. Went aboard at four ;
arrived at Liverpool on Thursday ; and
safely at home on Friday, July 15, 1796.

Blessed be the Preserver of men, the Sa-
viour of sinners, and the help of his servants,
for evermore, amen, amen !"

Some time after, writing, to his friend
who accompanied him, he says, "I have
received several letters from Dublin : two
from Master B., one from Miss H —

one from M , three or four from the

Baptist friends, and some from others, whom

I cannot recollect. Mr. K lately

called on me in his way from Bath to Holy-
head. We talked of you, and of our Lord,
and did not part till we had presented our-
selves before the throne."

During hia labors in Dublin, he was
strongly solicited to settle in a very flatter-
ing situation in the neighborhood ;* and a
very liberal salary was offered him. On
his positively declining it, mention v/as
made ofonly six months of the year. When
that was declined, three months were propo-
sed ; and when he was about to answer this
in the negative, the party refused to receive
his answer, desiring him to take time to
consider of it. He did so ; and though he
entertained a very grateful sense of the
kindness and generosity expressed by the

Sroposal, yet after the maturest deliberation
e thought it his duty to decline it. Mr.
Pearce's modesty prevented his talking on
such a subject; but it was known at the
time by his friend who accompanied him,
and since his deatli, has been frequently
mentioned as an instance of his disinterest-
ed spirit.

His friends at Birmingham were ready to
think it hard that he should be so willing to
leave them to go on a mission among the
heathen ; but they could not well complain,
and much less think ill of him, when they
saw that such a willingness was more than
could be effected by the most flattering pros-
pects of a worldly nature, accompanied too
with promising appearances of religious
usefulness.

About a month after his return from Dub-
lin, Mr. Pearce addressed a letter to Mr.
Carey, in which he gives some farther ac-
count of Ireland, as well as of some other
interesting matters :

* At the Black Rock, the residence of some of the
most gctvteel families in the vicinity of Dublin.

" Birmingham, Aiig. 12. 1796.

" Oh my dear brotlier, did you but know
with what feelings I resume my pen, freely
to correspond with you after receiving your
very affectionate letter to myself, and peru-
sing that which you sent by the same con-
veyance to the society. I am sure you would
persuade yourself that I have no common
friendship for you, and that your regards
are at least returned with equal ardor.

"I fear (I had almost said) that I shall
never see your face in the flesh ; but if any
thing can add too the joy which the pres-
ence of Christ, and conformity, perfect con-
formity to him, will afford in heaven, surely
the certain prospect of meeting with my
dear brother Carey there, is oneof(ifnot)</^e
greatest. Thrice happy should I be, if the
providence of God would open a way for
my partaking of your labors, your suffer-
ings, and your pleasures on this side, the
eternal world : but all my brethren here are
of a mind, that I shall be more useful at
home than abroad ; and I, though reluctant-
ly, submit. Yet I am truly with you in
spirit. My heart is at Mudnabatty, and at
times 1 even hope to find my body there :
but with the Lord I leave it ; he knows my
wishes, my motives, my regret : he knows
all my soul ; and, depraved as it is, I feel
an inexpressible satisfaction that he does
know it. However, it is an humbhng
thought to me, that he sees I am unfit for
such a station, and unwortliy such an honor
as to bear his name among the heathen.
But I must be thankful still, that though he
appoints me not to a post in foreign service,
he will allow me to stand sentinel at home.
In this situation may I have grace to be
faithful unto death !

I hardly wonder at your being pained
on account of the effects produced on the
minds of 3^our European friends, by the
news of your engagement in the Indigo bu-
siness, because I imagine you are ignorant
of the process of that matter amongst us.
When I received the news, I glorified God
in sincerity, on account of it, and gave most
hearty thanks to him for his most gracious
appearance on your behalf: but at the same
time I feared, lest through that undertaking,
the work of the misi=ion might in some way
or other be impeded. The same impres-
sion was made on the minds of many others :
yet no blame was attached, in our view, to
you. Our minds were only alarmed for the
future ; not disposed to censure for llae past.
Had you .seen a faithful ropy of the prayers,
the praises, and the conversation of the day

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

363

in which your letters were read, I know you'
would not have entertained one unkind
thought of the society towards you. Oh no,
roy dear brother, far be it from us to lay an
atom upon your spirits of a painful nature.
Need I say, we do love, we do respect you,
we do confide too much in you to design the
•smallest occasion of distress to your heart.
But I close this subject. In future we will
atone for an expression that might bear a
harsh construction. We will strengthen,
we will support, we will comfort, we will
encourage you in your arduous work, all,
all shall be love and kindness ; glory to
God and good will to men. If I have done
aught that is wrong, as an individual, par-
don me : If we have said aught amiss, as a
society, pardon us. Let us forbear one
anotlier in love, forgiving one another, even
as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven us.

" By the time this reaches you, I hope
you will have received Nos. I. and II. of
Periodical Accounts. Should you find any
thing in them, which you think had better
be omitted, pray be free in mentioning it,
and in future your instructions shall be fully
attended to. We have taken all the pains,
and used all the caution in our power to
render them unexceptionable ; but you can
better judge in some respects than we. If
you should not approve of all (though we
are not conscious of any thing that you will
disapprove) you will not be offended, but
believe we have done our best, and with
your remarks, hope to do better still.

With pleasure approaching to rapture,
I read the last accounts you sent us. I
never expected immediate success : the
prospect is truly greater than my most san-
guine hopes. ' The kingdom of heaven is
like to a little leaven hid in three measures
of meal, till the vhole is leavened.' Blessed
te God ! the leaven is in the meal, and its
influence is already discoverable. A great
God is doing great things by you. Go on,
my dearest brother, go on : God will do
greater things than these. Jesus is worthy
of a world of praise : and shall Hindostan
not praise him? Surely he shall see of the
travail of his soul there, and the sower and
the reaper shall rejoice together. Already
the empire of darkness totters, and soon it
shall doubtless fall. Blessed be the labor-
ers in this important work ; and blessed be
lie who giveth them hearts and strength to
labor, and promises that they shall not labor
in vain !

" Do not fear the want of money. God is
for us, and the silver and the gold are his ;
and so are the hearts of those who possess
the most of it. I will travel from the Land's
end to the Orkney's but we will get money
enough for all the demands of the mission.
I have never had a fear on that head : a
little exertion will do wonders ; and past

experience justifies every confidence. Men,
we only want ; and God shall find them for
us in due time.

" Is brother Fountain arrived 1 We hope
he will be an acceptable remittance, and,
viva voce, compensate for the lack of epis-
tolary communications.

" I rejoice in contemplating a church of
our Lord Jesus Christ in Bengal, formed up-
on his own plan. Why do not the Hindoo
converts join it ? Lord, help their unbelief!
But perhaps the drop is now withheld, that
you may by and by have the shower, and
lift up your eyes, and say, ' These, whence
came they 1 They fly as clouds, and as
doves to their windows.' For three years,
we read of few baptized by the first disci-
ples of our Lord ; but on the fourth, three
thousand, and five thousand openly avowed
him. The Lord send you such another
Pentecost !

" I intend to write my dear brother a long
letter. It will prove my desire to gratify
him, if it do no more. I wish that I knew
in what communications your other corres-
pondents will be most deficient: then I
would try to supply their omissions.

" I Avill begin with myself: but I have
nothing good to say. I think I am the most
vile ungrateful servantthat ever Jesus Christ
employed in his church. At some times,
I question whetlier I ever knew the grace
of God in truth ; and at others, I hesitate on
the most important points of Christian faith.
I have lately had peculiar struggles of this
kind with my own heart, and have often
half concluded to speak no more in the
name of the Lord. When I am preparing
for the pulpit, I fear I am going to avow
fables for facts, and doctrines of men for the
truths of God ? In conversation I am
obliged to be silent, lest my tongue should
belie my heart. In prayer I know not what
to say, and at times think prayer altogether
useless. Yet I cannot wholly surrender my
hope, or my profession. Three things I
find, above all others, tend to my preserva-
tion: First, A recollection of a time, when,
at once, I was brought to abandon the prac-
tice of sins, which the fear of damnation
could never bring me to relinquish before.
Surely I say, this must be the finger of God,
according to the scripture doctrine of re-
generation : Secondly, I feel such a con-
sciousness of guilt, that nothing but the gos-
pel scheme can satisfy my mind respecting
the hope of salvation : and Thirdly, I see
that what true devotion does appear in the
world, seems only to be found among those
to whom Christ is precious.

"But I frequently find a backwardness to
secret prayer, and much deadness in it;
and it puzzles me to see how this can be
consistent with a life of grace. However,
I resolve, that let what will become of me,

364

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

I will do all I can for God while I live, and
leave ihe rest to him ; and tliis I usually
experience to be the best way to be at
peace.

" I believe, that if I were more fully given
up to God, I should be free I'roni these
distressing workings of mind ; and then I
long to be a missionary where I should have
temptations to nothing but to abound in the
work of the Lord, and lay myself entirely
out for him. In such a situation, I think
pride would have but little food, and faith
more occasion for exercise ; so that the
spiritual life, and inward religion would
thrive better than they do now.

" At times, indeed, I do feel, I trust, genu-
ine contrition, and sincerely lament my
short-comings before God. Oh tJie sweets
that accompany true repentance ! Yes, I
love to be abased before God. ' There it is
I find my blessing.' May the Lord daily
and hourly bring me low, and keep me so !

"As to my public work, I find, whilst en-
gaged in it, little cause to complain for
want either of matter or words. My labors
are acceptable, and not altogether unprofit-
able, to the hearers ; but what is this to me,
if my own soul starves whilst others are
led by me ? Oh, my brother, I need your
prayers, and I feel a great satisfaction in
the hope that you do not forget me. Oh,
that I may be kept faithful unto death ? In-
deed, in the midst of my strugglings, a
gleam of hope, that I shall at last awakeinthe
likeness of God, affords me greater joy than
words can express. To be with Christ, is
far better than to continue sinning here ;
but if the Lord hath any thing to do by me
his will be done.

" I have never so fully opened my case
to any one before. Your freedom on simi-
lar topics encourages me to make my com-
plaint to you, and I think if you were near
■me, I should feel a great relief in revealing
to you all my heart. But I shall fatigue
you with my moanings ; so I will have done
on this subject.

" It is not long since I returned from a
kind of mission to Ireland. A society is
estabhshed in Dublin for the purpose of in-
viting from England, ministers of various
denominations, to assist in promoting the in-
terest of the kingdom of Christ there.
Some of our Baptist brethren had been
there before me, as Rippon, Langdon, Fran-
cis, and Birt ; and I think the plan is calcu-
lated for usefulness. I have, at Dr Rippon's
request, sent him some remarks on my visit,
for the Register ; but as it is probable you
Avill receive this before that comes to hand,
I will say something of my excursion here.

" Having engaged to spend six Lord's-
days in that kingdom, I arrived there the
day before tJie first Sabbath in June. I first
made myself acquainted with the general

state of religion in Dublin. I found there
were four Presbyterian congregations ; two
of these belong to the southern presbytery,
and are Arians or Socinians ; the other two
are cormected with the northern presbytery,
and retain the Westminster confession of
fiuth. One of these latter congregations is
very small, and the minister, though ortho-
dox, appears to have but little success.
The other is large and flourishing: the
place of worship ninety feet by seventy,
and, in the morning, well filled. There
times of public service are at half past elev-
en, and five. In the afternoon, the usual
congregations are small indeed ; lor five
o'clock is the dining hour in Dublin, and
few of the hearers would leave their din-
ners for the gospel. Dr. Mc Dowal is the
senior pastor of this church, a very affec-
tionate, spiritual man. The junior is Mr.
Horner. The doctor is a warm friend of the
society, at whose request I went over to
Ireland.

" There are one congregation of Burg-
her Seceders, and another of Antiburghers.
The latter will not hear any man who is not
of their o^vn cast ; the former are much
more liberal. I preached for them once,
and they affectionately solicited a repetition
of my services.

" Lady Huntingdon's connection has one
society here, the only one in tlie kingdom,
perhaps, except at Sligo, where there is
another. It is not large, and I fear rather
declining. There is not one independent
church in the kingdom. There were ten
Baptist societies in Ireland : they are now
reduced to six ; and are, I fear still on the
decline.

" The inhabitants of Dublin seem to be
chiefly composed of two classes ; the one
assume the appearance of opulence ; the
other exhibit marks of the most abject pov-
erty : and as there are no parishers in Ire-
land which provide for the poor, many die
every year for the want of the necessaries
of hfe.

" Most of the rich are by profession pro-
testants ; the poor are nearly all papists, and
strongly prejudiced against the reformed
religion. Their ignorance and superstition
are scarcely inferior to your miserable Hin-
doos. On midsummer day I had an eflfect-
ing proof of the latter. On the public road
about a mile from Dublin, is a well, which
was once included in the precincts of a pri-
ory, dedicated to St. John of Jerusalem.
This well is in high repute for curing a
number of bodily complaints, and its vir-
tues are said to be most efficacious on the
saint's own day. So from twelve o'clock
at night, for twenty-four hours, it becomes
the rendezvous for all the lame, blind, and
otherwise diseased people, within a circuit
of twenty miles. Here they brought old

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE,

365

and young, and applied the ' holy water,'
both internally and externally; some by
pouring, some by immersion, and all by
drinking: whilst, for the good of those who
could not come in person, their friends filled
bottles with the efficacious water to use at
home. Several I saw on their knees before
the well, at their devotions who were not
unfrequently interrupted with a glass of
whiskey. With this they were supplied
from a number of dealers in that article,
who kept standings all around the well.

" Near the spot, was a church-yard, were
great numbers kneeled upon the tombs of
their deceased relatives, and appeared ear-
nestly engaged in praying for the repose of
their souls.

"It was truly a lamentable sight. My
heart ached at their delusions, whilst I felt
gratitude, I hope unfeigned, for an ac-
quaintance with the water of life, of which
if a man drink, he shall live for ever.

" There are few, or none, ol" the middle
class to connect the rich and the poor ; so
that favorable access to them is far more
difficult than to the lower orders of the peo-
ple in England ; and their priests hold
them in such bondage, that if a catholic
servant only attend on family worship in a
protestant house, penance must be perform-
ed for the offence. S. P."

Mention has already been made of his
having " formed a pleasing acquaintance
with several serious young gentlemen of
the university of Dublin." The following
letter was addressed to one of them, the
Rev. Mr. Matthias, a few months after his
return :

"Dear Brother Matthias,

" I have been employed this whole day in
writing letters to Dublin ; and it is the first
day I have been able to redeem for that
purpose. I will not consume a page in
apology. Let it suffice to say, that neces-
sity, not disinclination, has detained from my
Irish friends, those proofs of my gratitude
and esteem, which in other circumstances I
ought to have presented three months ago.
I thought this morning of answering all
their demands before I slept: but I have
written so many sheets, and all full, that I
find my eyes and my fingers both fail ; and
I believe this must close my intercourse
with Dublin this day. When I shall be able
to complete my purpose, I do not know.
To form friendships with good men is plea-
sant ; but to maintain all that communion,
which friendship expects, is in some cases
very difficult. Happy should I be, could I
meet my Irish friends in propria persona,
instead of sitting in solitude, and maintain-
ing, by the tedious medium of the pen, this
distant intercourse. But 'The Lord, he

shall choose our inheritance for us.' Were
all the planets of our system embodied, and
placed in close association, the light would
be greater, and the object grander ; but
then, usefulness and systematic beauty con-
sist in their dispersion : and what are we,
my brother, but so many sattellites to Jesus
the great sun of the Christian system ?
Some, indeed, like burning Mercuries, keep
nearer the luminary, and receive more of
its light and heat, whilst others, like the
ringed planet, or the Georgium Sidus, pre-
serve a greater distance, and reflect a
greater portion of his light : yet if, amidst
all this diversity, they belong to the system,
two tilings, may be affirmed of all ; all keep
true to one centre, and borrow whatever
hght they have from one source. True it
is ,that the further they are from the sun, the
longer are they in performing their revolu-
tions : and is not this exemplified in us 1
The closer we keep to Jesus, the more bril-
liant are our graces, the more cheerful and
active are our lives ; but alas, we are all
comets ; we all move in eccentric orbs : at
one time glowing beneath the ray divine, at
another freezing and congealing the icicles.
' Oh what a miracle to man is man 1'

" Little did I think when I began this
letter, that I should have thus indulged my-
self in allegory ; but true friendship, I be-
lieve, always dictates extempore ; and my
friends must never expect from me a studied
epistle. They can meet with better
thoughts, than I can furnish them with, in
any bookseller's shop. It is not the dish,
however well it may be cooked, that gives
the relish, but the sweet sauce of friendship,
and this I think sometimes makes even non-
sense palitable.

" But I have some questions to put to
you ; first, how are all my college friends,
Messrs. Walker, Maturin, Hamilton, &c. ?
How is their health ? But chiefly, how are
the interests of religion among you ? Are
any praying students added to your num-
ber? Do all those you thought well of,
continue to justify their profession ? You
know what it is that interests me. Pray tell
me all, whether it makes me weep or re-
joice.

" I hope Mr. H 's ministry was blessed

in Dublin. Do you know any instances of it ?
We must sow in hope, and I trust that we
shall all gather fruit to eternal life, even
where the buddings have never appeared to
us in this world. How is it with your own
soul ? I thank God I never I think, rejoiced
habitually so much in him as I have done of
late. ' God is love.'' That makes me happy.
I rejoice that God reigns ; that he reigns
over all ; that he reigns over me ; over my
crosses, my comforts, my famity, my friends,
my senses, my mental powers, my designs,
my words, my preaching, my conduct;

366

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

tliat he is God over all blessed for ever. I
am willing to live, yet I long to die, to be
freed from all error and all sin. I have
nothing else to trouble me ; no other cross
to carry. The sun shines without, all day
long ; but I am sensible of internal dark-
ness. Well, through grace it shall be all
light by and by. Yes, you and I shall be
angels of light, all Mercuries then ; all near
the sun ; always in motion ; always glow-
ing with zeal and flaming with love. Oh
for the new heavens and the new world
wherein dwelleth righteousness.

" ' Oh what love and concord there
And what sweet harmony
Li heaven above, where happy souls

Adore thy majesty.
Oh how the heavenly choirs all sing
To him who sits enlhi'on'd above

What admiring!

And aspiring !

Still desiring : —
Oh how I long to see tliis feast of love !'

" Will you tell brother M that I

wait an opportunity to send a parcel to him ?
In that I will enclose a letter. My very af-
fectionate respects to him, and Mr. H ,

with all my college friends as though na-
med. If you be not weary of such an ec-
centric correspondent, pray do not be long
ere your write to your unworthy, but affec-
tionate brother in Christ, S. P."

Awhile after this, he thus writes to his
friend, Mr. Summers :

"December, 1796. I rejoice that you
have been supported under, and brought
through your late trials. I do not wonder
at it, for it is no more than God has promis-
ed ; and though we may well wonder that
he promises any thing, yet his performance
is no just ground of surprise ; and when
we find ourselves so employed, we had bet-
ter turn our wonder to our own unbelief,
that for one moment suspected God would
not be as good as his word.

" I have been lately more than ever de-
lighted with the thought, that God hath en-
gaged to do any thing for such worms as we.
I never studied the deistical controversy so
much, nor ever rejoiced in revelation more.
Alas ! what should we loiow, if God had not
condescended to teach us. Paul very justly
remarks, that no one knoweth anything of
God, but the spirit of God, and he to whom
the spirit rcvealeth him. Now the .spirit hath
revealed God in the bible, but to an unbe-
liever the bible is a sealed book. He can
know nothing from a book that he looks upon
as an imposture, and yet there is no other
book in which God is revealed ; so that to re-
ject the bible, is to immerse ourselves in dark-
ness, and whilst professing to be wise, act
ually to become a fool ; whereas, no sooner
do we believe what the spirit saith, than

unto us is God revealed, and ' in his light
do we see light.' S. P."

To the above may be added, a few ex-
tracts of letters, which he addressed to his
friends in 1797, and 1798.

TO DR. RYLAND.

» March, 1797.

" During the last three weeks, I have, at
times, been very poorly, in colds, «&c. Am
better now, and have been all along as-
sisted in going through my public duties.
Let us continue to pray for each other, till
death makes it a needless service. How
uncertain is life, and what a blessing is
death to a saint ! I seem lately to feel a
kind of affection for death. Methinks if it
were visible, I could embrace it. Wel-
come herald, that bids the prisoner be free ;
that announces the dawn of everlasting day ;
that bids the redeemed come to Zion with
everlasting joy, to be beyond the reach of
an erroneous judgment, and a depraved
heart. To believe, to feel, to speak, to act
exactly as God will have me ; to be wholly
absorbed and taken up with him ; this, this,
nothing short of this can make my bliss
complete. But all this is mine. Oh the
height, the depth, the length, the breadth
of redeeming love ! It conquers my heart,
and constrains me to yield myself a hving
sacrifice, acceptable to God through Jesus
Christ.

" My dear brother, we have had many
happy meetings upon earth : the best is in
reserve.

" ' No heart upon earth can conceive
The bliss lliat in heaven they share ;
Then, who this dark world would not leave,
And cheerfully die to be there !'

" Oh how full of love, and joy, and praise,
shall we be when that happy state is ours !
Well, yet a little while, and He that shall
come, will come. Even so come, Lord
Jesus ! My dear brother, forgive the hasty
effusions of a heart that loves you in the
bowels of Jeeus, and is always happy in
testifying itself to be

" Affectionately yours, S. P."

TO MR. CAVE.

" On the falling away of some who had promised fair in
religion.

« 1797.

*' I thank you my dear brother, for the
confidence you repose in me, the affection
you have for me, and the freedom with
which you write to me. Assure yourself
that I sincerely sympathize in the cutting
events which you have lately experienced.
Trying indeed ! Your heart must bleed.
Yet be not discouraged in your work. The
more Satan op]ioses CJirist, the more let its
oppose hitiu He comes with great vio-

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

367

lence because his time is short. His king-
dom is on the decline ; his strong holds are
besieged, and he knows they must soon be
taken. Whilst it lasts, he is making des-
perate sallies on the armies of the Lamb.
It is no great wonder that he fights and
wounds a raw recruit now and then, who
strays from the camp, and thoughtless of
the danger, keeps not close by the Cap-
tain's lent. I hope our glorious Leader
will heal the wounded, and secure the cap-
tive. He is sure to make reprisals. Christ
will have ten to one. You will yet see his
arm made bare. He shall go forth like a
man of war. The prisoners shall be re-
deemed, and the old tyrant shall be cast
into the bottomless pit. Be of good cheer,
my fellow soldier. The cause is not ours,
but God's. Let us endure hardness, and
still fight the good fight of faith. At last
we shall come off conquerors, through Him
who hath loved us.

" I hope you have some causes for joy,
as well as grief. I trust though one, or
two, or three fall, the tens, and the twen-
ties stand their ground. Oh do what you
can to cheer them under the common trial.
Let them not see a faint heart in you.
Fight manfully still. Tell them to watch
the more ; to pray the harder ; to walk the
closer with God. So out of tiie eater shall
come forth meat, and sweetness out of the
strong. S. P."

TO MR. BATES AND MRS. BARNES,

Who had been burnt out of their residence.

"The many expressions of Christian
friendship which I received from you, and
your affectionate families, during' my last
visit to London, will often excite grateful
recollection in future, as they have almost
daily since I parted from you ; and though
I do not write this avowedly as a mere
letter of acknowledgement, yet I wish to
assure you, that I am not forgetful of my
friends, nor unthankful for their kindness.
May all the favor you show to the servants
of our common Lord for his sake, be amply
recompensed in present peace, and future
felicity, when the promise of Him who can-
not lie, shall be fulfilled. 'A cup of cold
water given to a disciple, in the name of a
disciple, shall not lose its reward.'

"But, whilst you, my dear friends, live
' in hope of the glory' that remains ' to be
revealed,' I am persuaded that you expect
all as the fruit of sovereign mercy, which
first forms us to the mind of Christ, then
accepts, and then rewards. Truly, if sin-
ners be rewarded, it must be 'of grace, and
not of debt.' Yet it is a mercy of unspeak-
able matrnitufle, that grace should estab-
lish a connection, between obedience and
enjoyment ; such a connection as at once

insures joy to the believer, and glory to
Christ.

" O that our thoughts, our affections, our
desires may be much in heaven ! Here,
you have been taught, is ' no continuing
city,' no certain place of abode ; and though
you have been taught it awfully in flames,
yet if you learn it effectually, the terror of^
the means will be conquered by the excel-
lency and glory of the consequences. Yes,
my friends, ' in heaven we have a better
and enduring substance :' the apartments
there are more spacious ; the society more
sweet ; the enjoyments more perfect ; and
all to last for ever. Well may Christians
' rejoice in hope of the glory of God !'

" S. P."

TO MR. AND MRS. BOWYER, PALL
MALL.

" November 17, 1797.

" Blessed be ' the Preserver of men,' for
all his goodness to dear Mr. and Mrs. B.
With theirs shall my gratitude also ascend,
whilst separated from their society ; and
with theirs, shall it more warmly and per-
manently ascend when we meet to form a
part of the general assembly, the church of
the first born.

" I do not return to London this autumn,
but I mean to visit Portsmouth. I must be
indebted to you for my directions. We
shall be very happy to see you at Luke
street: but Wales I suppose will be the
vortex that will swallow up much of your
time. Well, so you are happy, we must be
disinterested enough to be satisfied, al-
though we be denied a personal participa-
tion.

" Let us not forget that we are Chris-
tians ; and Christians profess a hope of a
better country than Cambria contains.
There^ we all belong. Already citizens
by privilege, we shall be by possession
soon.

" ' Roll swifter round, ye wheels of time,
And bring the welcome day.'

" In hope of greeting you both in that
good land, I remain, most affectionately
yours, S. P."

TO DR. RYLAND.

" November 17, 1797.
" I feel much for you in relation both to
the duties and trials of your present situa-
tion: at the same time I bless God who
fixed you in it, because I am persuaded
that it will be for his glory in the churches
of Christ. And though none but tliose,
whose hands are full of religious concerns,
can gue.ss at your difficulties ; yet our
blessed Redeemer knows them all. Oh,
my brother, you are tr:^vailing for him,
who redeemed you by his blood ; who sym-
pathizes with you, and who \\i\\ graciously

368

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

crown you at last. Small as my trials are,
I would turn smith, and work at the anvil
and the forge, rather than bear them for
any other master than Christ. Yet were
they ten thousand times as many as they
are, the thought of their being for him, I
trust, would sweeten them all.

" I have reason to be very thankful for
much pleasure of late, both as a Christian
and a minister. I have never felt so deep-
ly my need of a Divine Redeemer, and sel-
dom possessed such solid confidence that
he is mine. I want more and more to be-
come a little child, to dwindle into nothing
in my own esteem, to renounce ray own
wisdom, power and goodness, and simply
look to, and live upon Jesus for all. I am
ashamed that I have so much pride, so
much self-will. Oh my Saviour ! make me
' meek and lowly in heart ;' in this alone I
find ' rest to my soul.'

" I could say much of what Immanuel
has done for my soul ; but I fear lest even
this should savour of vanity. When shall
I be like my Lord ! Oh welcome death,
when I have nothing more to do for Christ !
To him, till then, may I live every day and
every hour ! Rather may I be annihilated
than not live to him !

" You will rejoice with me to hear that
we have a pleasing prospect as a church.
Several very hopeful, and some very valu-
able characters are about to join us. Lord,
carry on ihy work. S. P."

TO MRS. PEARCE.

On the dangerous illness of one of the children.

" Portsmouth, January 29, 1798.

"Ignorant of the circumstances of our
dear child, how shall I address myself to
her dearer mother ! With a fluttering
heart, and a trembling hand, I, in this un-
certainty, resume my pen. One consider-
ation tranquilizes my mind ; I and mine are
in the hands of God: the wise, the good,
the indulgent Parent of mankind ! What-
ever he does is best. I am prepared for all
his will, and hope that I shall never have a
feeling, whose language is not, ' Thy will
be done.'

" I am most kindly entertained here by
Mr. and Mrs. Shoveller: and, except my
dear Sarah's presence, feel myself at home.
Tkey have had greater trials than we can
at present know. They have attended
seven children to the gloomy tomb: they
have been supported beneath tlieir loss, by
Him who halh said, ' As thy days, so shail
thy strength be.' Mrs. S. tells me, she
' blessed God for all.' May my dear Sa
rah be enabled to do the same, whatever
the result may prove. To-morrow I ex-
pect another letter from you ; yet lest you
should too much feel my abscence, I will
not delay forwarding this a single post. O

that it nvay prove in some degree a mes^
senger of consolation !

" Yesterday I preached three times ; God
was very good. I received your letter be-
fore the first service : you may be assured
that I bore you on my heart in the pres-
ence of my Lord and yours ; nor shall I
pray in vain. He will either restore the
child, or support you under the loss of it.
I dare not pray with importunity for any
earthly good ; for ' who knoweth what is
good for man in this life, all the days of hia
vain life which he spendeth as a shadow ?'
But strength to bear the loss of earthly
comforts, he has promised ; for that I im-
portune ; and that, I doubt not, will be
granted.

" In a house directly opposite to the win-
dow before which I now write, a wife, a
mother, is just departed. Why am I not a
bereaved husband ? Why not my child-
ren motherless ? When we compare our
condition with our wishes, we often com-
plain : but if we compare it with that of
many around us, our complaints would be
exchanged for gratitude and praise.

" S. P."

TO R. BOWYER, ESa

" February 14, 1798.

" Not a day has hurried by, since I part-
ed with my dear friends in Pall Mall, but
they have been in my affectionate remem-
brance ; but not being able 1o speak with
any satisfaction respecting our dear child,
I have withheld myself from imparting new
anxieties to bosoms already alive to pain-
ful sensibility.

" At length, however, a gracious God
puts it in my power to say that there is
hope. Alter languishing between life and
death for many days she now seems to
amend. We flatter ourselves that she has
passed the crisis, and will yet be restored
to our arms : but parental fears forbid too
strong a confidence. It may be that our
most merciful God saw that the shock of a
sudden removal would be too strong for the
tender feelings of a mother ; and so by de-
grees, prepares for the stroke which must
fall at last. However, she is in the best
hands, and we are, I hope, preparing for
submission to whatever may be the blessed
will of God,

" I was brought home in safety, and feel
myself in much better health in conse-
quence of my journey. Oh that it all may
be concentrated to my Redeemer's praise !

" Happy should I be, if I could oftener
enjoy your friendly society ; but we must
wait fur the full accomplishment of our so-
cial wishes, till we come to that better
world, for which divine grace is preparing
us. There our best, our brightest hopes,
and there our warmest aflections must be

MEMOIRS OP PEARCE.

369

found. Could we have all we want below.
we should be reluctant to ascend, when
Jesus calls us home. No, this is not our
rest; it is polluted with sin, and dashed
with sorrow : but though our pains in them-
eelves are evil, yet our God turns the curse
into a blessing, and makes all that we meet
with accomplish our good.

"What better can I wish, my friends,
than the humble place of Mary, or the hap-
py rest of John ! Faith can enjoy them
both, till actually we fall at the Saviour's
feet, and lean upon his bosom, when we see
him as he is.

•' ' Oh the delights, the heav'niy joys,
The glories of the place,
Where Jesus sheds the brightest beams
Of his o'erflowing grace.'

" S. P.»

CHAPTER IV.

An Account of his last Affliction, and the
holy and happy Exercises of his Mind
under it.

Eahly in October, 1798, Mr. Pearce at-
tended at the Kettering minister's meeting,
and preached from Psalm xc. 16, 17. " Let
thy work appear unto thy servants, and
thy glory unto their children. And let the
beauty of the Lord our God be upon us;
and establish thou the work of our hands
upon us ; yea the work of our hands es-
tablish thou it." He was observed to be
singularly solemn and affectionate in that
discourse. If he had known it to b3 the
last time that he should address his breth-
ren in that part of the country, he could
scarcely have felt or spoken in a more in-
teresting manner. It was a discourse full
of instruction, full of holy unction, and that
seemed to breathe an apostolical ardor.
On his return, he preached at Market Har-
borough; and riding home the next day in
company with his friend, Mr. Summers, of
London, they were overtaken with rain.
Mr. Pearce was wet through his clothes,
and towards evening complained of a chill-
ness. A slight hoarseness followed. He
preached several times after this, which
brought on an inflamation, and issued in a
consumption. It is probable that if his con-
stitution had not been previously impaired,
such ert'ects might not have followed in this
instance. His own ideas on this subject,
are expressed in a letter to Dr. Ryland,
dated December 4, 1793, and in another to
Mr. King, dated from Bristol, on his way
to Plymouth, March 30, 1799. In the for-
mer, he says: " Ever since my Christmas
journey last year to Sheepshead, Noting-
ham, and Liecester, on the mission busi-
ness, I have found my constitution greatly

Vol. 3.— Uu.

debilitated, in consequence of a cold caught
after the unusual exertions which circum-
stances then demanded ; so that from a
frame that could endure any weather, I
have since been too tender to encounter a
single shower without danger ; and the
duties of the Lord's-day, which as far as
bodily strength went, I could perform with
little fatigue, have since frequently over-
come me. But the severe cold I caught in
my return from the last Kettering minis-
ter's meeting, has affected me so much,
that I have sometimes concluded I must
give up preaching entirely ; for though my
head and spirits are better than for two
years past, yet my stomach is so very weak,
that I cannot pray in my family without
frequent pauses for breath ; and in the pul-
pit it is labor and agony, which must be
felt to be conceived of. I have, howeverj
made shift to preach sometimes thrice, but
mostly only twice on a Lord's-day, till the
last, when the morning sermon only, though
I delivered it with great pleasure of mind,
and with as much caution as to my voice
as possible, yet cost me so much labor as
threw me into a fever till the next day, and
prevented my sleeping all night." In the
letter he writes thus: "Should mj' life be
spared, I and my family, and all my con-
nections will stand indebted, under God, to
you. Unsuspecting of danger myself, I
believe I should have gone on wiih my ex-
ertions, till the grave had received me.
Your attention sent Mr. B. (the apothecary)
to me, and then first I learned what I have
since been increasingly convinced of: that
I was rapidly destroying the vital principle.
And the kind interest you have taken in
my welfare ever since, fias often drawn the
grateful tear from my eye. May the God
of heaven and earih reward your kindness
to his unworthy servant, and save you
from all the evils from which your distin-
guished friendship would have saved me."

Such were his ideas. His labors were
certainly abundant; perhaps too great for
his constitution : but it is probable that
nothing was more injurious to his health,
than a frequent exposure to night air, and
an inattention to the necessity of changing
damp clothes.

Hitherto we have seen in Mr. Pearce,
the active, assiduous, and laborious servant
of Jesus Christ ; but now we see him laid
aside from his work, wasting away by slow
degrees, patiently enduring the will of God,
and cheerfully waiting for his dissolution.
And as here is but little to narrate, I shall
content myself with copying his letters, or
extracts from them, to his friends, in the
order of time in which they were written,
only now and then dropping a few hints to
furnish the reader with the occasions of
some of them.

370

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE,

TO DR. RYLAND.

"Birmingham, Octobers, 1798.

" Oh ! my dear brother, your letter of
the 5th which I received this morning, has
made me thankful for all my pulpit agonies,
as they enable me to weep with a weeping
brother. They have been of use to me in
other respects; particularly, in teaching
me the importance of attaining and main-
taining that spirituality and pious ardor, in
which I have found the most effectual re-
lief; so that, on the whole, 1 must try to
' glory in tribulations also.' I trust I often
can when the conflict is past ; but to glory
'in' them, especially in mental distress —
hie labor, hoc opjis est.

" But how often has it been found, that
when ministers have felt themselves most
embarrassed, the most effectual good has
been done to the people. Oh for hearts
entirely resigned to the will of God.

" How happy should I be, could I always
enjoy the sympathies of a brother, who is
tried in these points, as I of late have been.

"S. P."

TO MR. FULLER.

" Birmingham, October, 29, 1798.
"I caught a violent cold in returning
from our last committee meeting, from
which I have not yet recovered. A little
thing now affects my constitution, which I
once judg'ed would be weather and labor
proof for at least thirty years, if I lived so
long. I thank God that I am not debilita-
ted by iniquity. I have lately met with an
occurrence, which occasioned me much
pain and perplexity. ***** Trials soften
our hearts, and make us more fully prize
the dear few, into whose faithful sympathi-
zing bosoms we can with confidence pour
our sorrows. I think I should bless God
for my afflictions, if they produced no other
fruits than these, the tenderness they inspire,
and the friendships they enjoy. Pray, my
dear brother, for yours affectionately,

"S. P."

To a young man who had applied to him for advice, how
he should best improve his time, previous to his going
to the Bristol academy.

" Birmingham, Noveraber 13, 1798.

" My dear M ,

"I can only confess my regret at not re-
plying to yours at a much earlier period,
and assure you that the delay has been
accidental, and not designed. I feel the
importance of your request for advice. I
was sensible it deserved some considera-
tion before it was answered. I was full of
business at the moment I put it by, and
it was forgotten; and now it is too late.
The time of your going to Bristol draws
nigh. If instead of an opinion respecting

the best way of occupying your time be-
fore you go, you will accept a little counsel
during your continuance there, I shall be
happy at any time to contribute such a
mite as my experience and observation
have put in my power.

" At present, the following rules appear
of so much moment, that were I to resume
a place in any literary establishment, I
would religiously adopt them as the stand-
ard of my conduct: First, I would cultivate
a spirit of habitual devotion. Warm piety
connected with my studies, and especially
at my entrance upon them, would not only
assist me in forming a judgment on their
respective importance, and secure the bles-
sing of God upon them; but would so ce-
ment the religious feeling with the literary
pursuit, as might abide with me for hte.
The habit of uniting these, being once for-
med, would, I hope, be never lost; and I
am sure that without this, I shall both pur-
sue trivial and unworthy objects, and those
that are worthy I shall pursue for a wrong
end. Secondly, I would determine on a
uniform submission to the instructions of
my preceptor, and study those things which
would give him pleasure. If he be not
wiser than I am, for what purpose do I
come under his care ? I accepted the pe-
cuniary help of the society on condition of
conformity to its will ; and it is the society's
will that my tutor should govern me. My
example will have influence ; let me not,
by a single act of disobedience, or by a
word that implicates dissatisfaction, sov/
the seeds of discord in the bosoms of my
companions. Thirdly, I would pray and
strive for the power of self-government, to
form no plan, to utter not a word; to take
no step under the mere influence of pas-
sion. Let my judgment be often asked,
and let me always give it time to answer.
Let me always guard against a light or
trifling spirit; and particularly as 1 shall
be amongst a number of youths, whose
years will incline them all to the same
irailty. Fourthly, I would in all my weekly
and daily pursuits observe the strictest
order. Always let me act by a plan. Let
every hour have its proper pursuit; from
which let nothing but a settled conviction
that I can employ it to better advantage,
ever cause me to deviate. Let me have fix-
ed time for prayer, meditation, reading lan-
guages, correspondence, recreation, sleep,
&c. Fifthly, I would not only assign to
every hour its proper pursuit, but what I
(lid, I would try to do it with all my might.
The hours at such a place are precious be-
yond conception, till the student enters on
life's busy scenes. Let me set the best of
my class ever before me, and strive to be
belter than tliey. In humility and diU-

MEMOIRS OP PEARCE,

371

gence, let me aim to be the first. Sixthly,
I would particularly avoid a versatile habit.
In all things I would persevere. Without
this, I may be a gaudy butterfly, but never,
like the bee, will my hive bear examining.
Whatever I take in hand, let me first be
eure I understand it, then duly consider it,
and if it be good, let me adopt and use it.

" To these, my dear brother, let me add
three or four things more minute, but which
I am persuaded will help you much : Guard
against a large acquaintance while you
are a student. Bristol friendship, while
you sustain that character, will prove a
vile thief, and rob you of many an invalu-
able hour. Get two or three of the studeiits,
whose piety you most approve, to meet for
one hour in a loeek for experimental con-
versation and 'mutual prayer. I found this
highly beneficial, though strange to tell, by
some we were persecuted for our practice !
Keep a diary. Once a week at farthest,
call yourself to an account : What advan-
ces you have made in your studies ; in di-
vinity, history, languages, natural philoso-
phy, style, arrangement; and amidst all,
do not forget to inquire : Am I more fit to
serve and to enjoy God than I was last
week? S. P."

On Decem.ber 2, 1798, he delivered his
last sermon. The subject was taken from
Dan. X. 19. "Oh man, greatly beloved,
fear not, peace be unto thee, be strong,
yea, be strong. And when he had spoken
unto me, I was strengthened, and said, Let
my Lord speak ; for thou hast strengthened
me." "Amongst all the Old Testament
saints," said he, in his introduction to that
discourse, "there is not one whose virtues
were more, and whose imperfections were
fewer, than those of Daniel. By the histo-
ry given of him in this book, which yet
seems not to be complete, he appears to have
excelled among the excellent." Doubtless
no one was farther from his thoughts than
himself; several of his friends, however,
could not help applying it to him, and that
with a painful apprehension of what fol-
lowed soon after.

TO MR. CAVE, LEICESTER.

" Birmingham, December 4, 1798.

" Blessed be God, my mind is calm ;

and though my body be weakness itself,
my spirits are good, and I can write as
well as ever, though I can hardly speak
two sentences without a pause. All is well,
brother ! all is well, for time and eternity.
My soul rejoices in the everlasting cove-
nant, ordered in all things and sure. Peace
from our dear Lord Jesus be with your
spirit, as it is (yea, more also) with your
affectionate brother, S. P."

TO DR. RYLAND.

" Birmingham., December 9, 179S.
"My dear Brother,

" After a Sabbath (such an one I never
knew before) spent in an entire seclusion
from the house and ordinances of my God,
I seek Christian converse with you, in a
way in which I am yet permitted to have
intercourse with my brethren. The day
after I wrote to you last, my medical at-
tendant laid me under the strictest injunc-
tions not to speak again in public for one
month at least. He says my stomach has
become so irritable, through repeated infla-
mations, that conversation, unless managed
with great caution, would be dangerous ;
that he does not think my present condition
alarming, provided I take rest ; but without
that, he intimated my life was in great dan-
ger. He forbids my exposing myself to
the evening air, on any account, and going
out of doors, or to the door, unless when
the air is dry and clear ; so that I am, du-
ring the weather we now have in Birming-
ham, (very foggy,) a complete prisoner ;
and the repeated cautions from my dear
and aflfectionate friends, whose solicitude, I
conceive, far exceeds the danger, compel
me to a rigid observance of the doctor's
rules.

" This morning brother Pope took my
place; and in the afternoon Mr. Brewer,
who has discovered uncommon tenderness
and respect for me and the people, since
he knew my state, preached a very affec-
tionate sermon from 1 Samuel iii. 18. ' It
is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him
good.' By what I hear, his sympathizing
observations, in relation to the event which
occasioned his being then in the pulpit,
drew more tears from the people's eyes,
than a dozen such poor creatures as their
pastor could deserve. But I have, blessed
be God ! long had the satisfaction of find-
ing myself embosomed in friendship — the
friendship of the people of my charge :
though I lament that their love should oc-
casion them a pang — but thus it is — our
heavenly Father sees that, for our mixed
characters, a mixed state is best.

" I anticipated a day of gloom, but I had
unexpected reason to rejoice that the shad-
ow of death was turned into the joy of the
morning ; and though I said, with perhaps
before unequalled feeling, ' How amiable
are thy tabernacles !' yet I found the God
of Zion does not neglect the dwellings of
Jacob. My poor wife was very much af-
fected at so novel a thing as leaving me
behind her, and so it was a dewy morning;
but the Sun of Righteousness soon arose,
and shed such ineffable delight throughout
my soul, that I could say, ' It is good to be
here.'' Motive to resignation and gratitude

372

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE,

also, crowded upon motive, till my judg-
ment was convinced, that I ought to rejoice
in the Lord exceedingly, and so my whole
eoul took its fill of joy. May I, if it be my
Saviour's will, feel as happy when I come
to die ! When my poor Sarah lay at the
point of death, for some days after her first
lying-in, towards the latter days, I enjoyed
such support, and felt my will so entirely
bowed down to that of God, that I said in
my heart, ' I shall never fear another trial :
he that sustained me amidst this flame, will
defend me from every spark !' and this con-
fidence I long enjoyed. But that was near
six years ago, and I had almost forgotten
the land of the Hermonites, and the hill
Mizar. But the Lord has prepared me to
receive a fresh display of his fatherly care,
and his (shall I call it?) punctilious veraci-
ty. If I should be raised up again, I shall
be able to preach on the faithfulness of
God more experimentally than ever. Per-
haps some trial is coming on, and I am to
be instrumental in preparing them for it :
Or if not, if I am to depart hence to be no
more seen, I know the Lord can carry on
his work as well without me as with me.
He who redeemed the sheep with his blood,
will never suffer them to perish for want of
shepherding, especially since he himself is
the chief Shepherd of souls. But my fam-
ily ! Ah, there I find my faith but still im-
perfect. However, I do not think the Lord
will ever take me away, till he helps me to
leave my fatherless children in his hands,
and trust my widow also with him. 'His
love in times past,' and I may add in times
present too, 'forbids me to think he will
leave me at last^ in trouble to sink.'

"Whilst my weakness was gaining ground,
I used to ask myself, how I could like to be
laid by ? I have dreamed that this was the
case, and both awake and asleep, I felt as
though it were an evil that could not be
borne : but now, I find the Lord can fit the
back to the burden, and though I think I
love the thought of serving Christ at this
moment better than ever, yet he has made

me willing to be nothing, if he please

to have it so ; and now my happy heart
'could sing itself away to everlasting bliss.'
" O what a mercy that I have not brought
on my affliction by serving the devil. What
a mercy that I have so many dear sympa-
thizing friends ! What a mercy that I have
80 much dear domestic comfort ! What.a
mercy that I am in no violent bodily pain !
What a mercy that I can read and write,
without doing my-sclf an injury ! What a
mercy that my animal spirits have all the
time this has been coming on, (ever since
the last Kettering meeting of ministers.)
been vigorou.s — free from dejection ! And
which 1 reckon among the greatest of this
day's privileges, what a mercy that I have

been able to employ myself for Christ and
his dear cause to-day, as I have been almost
wholly occupied in the concerns of the (I
hope) reviving church at Bromsgrove ; and
the infant church at Cradley ! O my dear
brother, it is all mercy, is it not? O help
me then in his praise, for he is good, for his
mercy endureth for ever.

" Ought I to apologize for this experi-
mental chat with you, who have concerns
to transact of so much more importance,
than any that are confined to an individual?
Forgive me if I have intruded too much on
your time, but do not forget to praise on
my behalf a faithful God. I shall now
leave room against I have some business
to write about — till then, adieu — but let us
not forget, that this God., is our God for
ever and ever, and will be our gidde even
until death. Amen. Amen. We shall
soon meet in heaven. S. P."

December 9, 1798, he was detained from
public worship, as appears by the prece-
ding letter to Dr. Ryland, written on that
day. The following lines seem to have
been composed on the same occasion :

" On being prevented by sickness from attending on puit-
lie irorsliip.

Tlie fabric of nature is fair.
But fairc-r the temple of grace ;
To saints 'tis the joy of the earth—
Oh glorious, beautilul place !

To this temple I once did resort,
With crowds of tlie people of God;
Enraplnr'd we entered its courts,
And iiail'd the Redeemer's abode.

The Father of nature we prais'd,
And prostrated low at his tlirone ;
The Saviour we lov'd and ador'd.
Who lov'd us and made us his own.

Full oft to the message of peace,
To sinners address'd from the sky,
We listen'd, extolling that grace,
Which set us, once rebels, on high.

Faith clave to the cnicified Lamb ;-
Hope, smiling exalted its head ;
Love warni'd at the Saviour's dear namei
And vow'd to observe what he said.

What pleasure appcar'd in the looks
Of brethren and sisters around :
With transports all seem'd to reflect
On the blessings in Jesus they'd found.

Sweet moments ! If aught upon earth
Resemble the joys of the skies,
'T is thus when the hearts of the flock
Conjoin'd to the Shepherd arise.

But ah ! these sweet moments are fled,
Pale sickness compels mc to stay
Where no voice of the turtle is heard,
As the moments are hasting away.

My God ! thou art holy and good,
Thy plans are all righteous and wise ;
Oh help me submissive to wait,
Till thou hiddest thy servant arise.

If to follow thee here in thy courts,
May it be with all ardor and zeal,
With success and increasing delight
Performing the whole of thy will. - •

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

373

Or should thou in bondage detain,
To visit thy temples no more,
Prepare me for mansions above
Where nothing exists to deplore:

Where Jesus, the Sun of the place

Refulgent incessantly shines,
Eternally blessing his saints,
And pouring delight on their minds.

Tliere — there are no prisons to hold
The captive from tasting delight ;
There — there the day never is clos'd
With shadows, or darkness, or night.

There myriads and myriads shall meet
In our Saviour's liigli praises to join ;
Whilst transported vpe fall at his feet.
And extol his redemption divine.

Enough then ! my heart shall no more
Of its present bereavements complain
Since, ere long, I to glory shall soar.
And ceaseless enjoyments attain !"

TO MR. NICHOLS, NOTTINGHAM.

" Birmingham, December 10, 1798.
" I am now quite laid by from preaching,
and am so reduced in my internal strength,
that I can hardly converse with a friend
for five minutes without losing my breath.
Indeed I have been so ill, that I thought
the next ascent would be, not to a pulpit,
but to a throne, to the throne of glory.
Yes, indeed, my friend, the religion of Je-
sus will support when flesh and heart fail :
and in my worst state of body, my soul
was filled with joy. I am now getting a
little better, though but very slowly. But
fast or slow, or as it may, the Lord doth all
things well. S. P."

TO R. BOWYER, ESa.
" — — I have overdone myself in preach-
ing. I am now ordered to lie by, and not
even to converse, without great care ; nor
indeed, till to-day, have I for some time
been able to utter a sentence, without a
painful effort. Bles.=ed be God! I have
been filled all through my affliction with
peace and joy in believing; and at one
time, when I thought 1 was entering the
valley of death, the prospect beyond was
60 full of glory, that but for the sorrow it
would have occasioned to some who would
be left behind, I should have longed that
moment to have mounted to the skies. Oh
my friend, what a mercy that I am not re-
ceiving the wages of sin ; that my health
has not been impaired by vice ; but that,
on the contrary, I am bearivg in my body
the marks of the Lord Jesus. To him be
all the praise ! Truly I have proved that
God is faithful : and most cheerfully would
I take double the affliction for one half of
the joy and sweetness which have attended
it. Accept a sermon which Js this day
published.* ' S. p."

•The last but one he ever preached, entitled, Motives
to Gralitude. It was delivered on a day of national
ihanksgivmg, and printed at the request of his own
congregation.

TO MR. BATES AND MRS. BARNES,
MINORIES.

^^ Birmingham, December 14, 179S.

" I could tell you much of the Lord's

goodness during my affliction. Truly, 'his
right hand hath been under my head, and
his left embraced me.' And when I was
at the worst, especially, and expected ere
long to have done with time, even then,
such holy joy, such ineffable sweetness fill-
ed my soul, that I would not have exchan-
ged that situation for any besides heaven
itself.

"Oh, my dear friends, let us hve to
ChiHst, and lay ourselves wholly out for
him whilst we live; and then, when health
and life forsake us, he will be the strength
of our heart, and our portion for ever.

"S. P."

About this time, the congregation at
Cannon street was supplied for several
months by Mr. Ward, who is since gone as
a missionary to India: here that amiable
young man became intimately acquainted
with Mr. Pearce, and conceived a most af-
fectionate esteem for him. In a letter to a
friend, dated January 5, 1799, he writes as
follows :

" I am happy in the company of dear
brother Pearce. I have seen more of God
in him, than in any other person I ever knew.
Oh how happy should I be to live and die
with him ! When well, he preaches three
times on a Lord's-day, and two or three
times in the week besides. He instructs
the young people in the principles of reli-
gion, natural philosophy, astronomy, &c.
They have a Benevolent Society, from the
funds of which they distribute forty or fifty
pounds a year to the poor of the congrega-
tion. They have a Sick Society for visit-
ing the afflicted in general : a Book Socie-
ty at chapel : a Lord's-day School, at which
betwixt two and three hundred children are
instructed. Add to this, missionary busi-
ness, visiting the people, an extensive cor-
re.spondence, two volumes of mission histo-
ry preparing for the press, &c., and then
you will see something of the soul of Pearce.
He is every where venerated, though but
a young man; and all the kind, tender,
gentle affections, make him as a little child
at the feet of his Saviour. W. W."

In February, he rode to the opening of a
Baptist meeting-house at Bedworth; but
did not engage in any of the services. Here
several of his brethren saw him for the last
time. Soon afterwards, writing to the com-
piler of these Memoirs, he says, " The
Lord's-day after I came home, I tried to
speak a little after sermon. It inflamed my
lungs afresh, and produced phlegm, cough-
ing, and spitting of blood. Perhaps I may

374

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

never preach more. Well, the Lord's will
be done. I thank him that ever he took me
into his service ; and now, if he see fit to
give me a discharge, I submit."

During the above meeting, a word was
dropped by one of his brethren which he
took as a reflection, though nothing was far-
ther from the intention of the speaker. It
wrought upon his mind, and in a few days
after, he wrote as follows : " Do you remem-
ber what passed at B. ? Had I not been
accustomed to receive plain, friendly re-
marks from you, I should have thought that
you meant to insinuate a reproof If you did,
tell me plainly. If you did not, it is all at an
end. You will not take my naming it unkind,
although I should be mistaken,since affection-
ate explanations are necessary when suspi-
cions arise, to the preservation of friendship ;
and I need not say that I hold the preserva-
tion of your friendship in no small account."

The above is copied, not only to set forth
the spirit and conduct of Mr. Pearce in a
case wherein he felt himself aggrieved, but
to show in how easy and amiable a manner
thousands of mistakes might be rectified,
and differences prevented, by a frank and
timely explanation.

TO MR. COMFIELD, NORTHAMP-
TON.

" Birmingham., March 4, 1799.

" I could wish my sympathies to be as
extensive as human — I was going to say —
(and why not?) as animal misery. The
very limited comprehension of the human
intelligence forbids this indeed, and whilst
I am attempting lo participate as far as the
news of affliction reaches me, I find the
same events do not often produce equal
feelings. We measure our sympathies, not
by the causes of sorrow, but by the sensi-
bilities of the sorrowful ; hence I abound in
feeling on your account. The situation of
your family must have given distress to a
president of any character ; but in you il
must have produced agonies. I know the
tenderness of your heart: your feelings are
delicately strong. You must feel much, or
nothing ; and he that knows you, and does
not feel much when you feel must be a
brute.

" May the fountain of mercy supply you
with the cheering stream ! May your sor-
row be turned into joy !

" I am sure that I ought to value more
than ever your friendship for me. You
have remembered me, not merely in my
affliction, but in your own. Our friendship,
our benevolence must never be compared
with that of.Tesus; but it is truly delightful
to see the disciple treading, though at an
humble distance, in the footsteps of a Mas-
ter, who. amidst the tortures of crucifixion,
exercised forgiveness to his murderers, and

the tenderness of filial piety to a disconso-
late mother ! When we realize the scene,
how much do our imaginations embrace —
the persons, the circumstances, the words :
• Woman, behold thy son ; John, behold thy
mother !' S. P."

By the above letter, the reader will per-
ceive, that while deeply afflicted himself he
felt in the tenderest manner lor the afflic-
tions of others.

TO MR. FULLER.

" March 23, 1799.
He was now setting out for Plymouth ;
and after observing the great danger he
was supposed to be in, with respect to a
consumption, he adds: "But thanks be to
God who giveth my heart the victory, let
my poor body be consumed, or preserved.
In the thought o? leaving, I feel a momenta-
ry gloom ; but in the thought of going, a
heavenly triumph.

'' ' Oh to grace how great a debtor !'

" Praise God with me, and for me, my
dear brother, and let us not mind dying any
more than sleeping. No, no ! let every
Christian sing the loudest, as he gets the
nearest to the presence of his God. Eternal-
ly yours in Him, who hath washed us both
in his blood. S. P."

TO MR. MEDLEY, LONDON.
Under the same date he says: "My af-
fliction has been rendered sweet, by the
supports and smiles of Him whom I have
served in the gospel of his Son. He hath
delivered, he doth deliver, and I trust that
he will yet deliver. Living or dying, all is
well for ever. Oh what shall I render lo
the Lord !"

ft seems, that in order to avoid wounding
Mrs. P's feelings, he deferred the settle-
ment of his affairs till he arrived at Bristol ;
from whence he Avrote to his friend, Mr.
King, requesting him to become an execu-
tor. Receiving a favorable answer, he re-
plied as follows :

'•' Bristol April 6, 1799.
"Your letter, just received, affected me
loo much, with feelings both of sympathy
and gratitude, to remain unanswered a
single post. Most heartily do I thank you
for accepting a service, which friendship
alone can render agreeable in the most
simple cases. Should that service demand
your activities at an early period, may no
unforeseen occurrence increase the necessa-
ry care ! Bui may the Father of the father-
less, and Judge of the widows, send you a
recompense into your own bosom, equal to
all that friendship, to which, under God, I
have been so much indebted in life, and re-

MEMOIRS OP PEARCE,

375

posing on whose bosom, even death itself
loses part of its gloom. In you, my child-
ren will find another father ; in you, my
wife another husband. Your tenderness
will sympathize with the one, under the
most distressing sensibilities ; and your pru-
dent counsels be a guide to the others,
through the unknown mazes of inexperi-
enced youth. Enough — blessed God! My
soul prostrates, and adores thee for such a
friend. S. P."

TO MR. FULLER.

" Plymouth, April 18, 1799.

" The last time that I wrote to you was
at the close of a letter sent to you by bro-
ther Ryland. I did not like that prescript
form ; it looked so cardlike as to make me
fear that you would deem it unbrolherly.
After all, perhaps you thought nothing
about it ; and my anxieties might arise only
from my weakness, which seems to be con-
stantly increasing my sensibilities. If ever
I felt love in its tenderness for my friends,
it has been since my affliction. This, in
great measure, is no more than the love of
'publicans and harlots, who love those that
love them.' I never conceived myself by a
hundred degrees so interested in the regards
of my friends, as this season of affliction has
manifested I was ; and therefore, so far
from claiming any ' reward' for loving them
in return, I should account myself a mon-
ster of ingratitude, were it otherwise. Yet
there is something in affliction itself, which,
by increasing the delicacy of our feehngs,
and detaching our thoughts from the usual
round of objects which present themselves
to the mind when in a state of health, may
be easily conceived to make us susceptible
of stronger and more permanent impres-
sions of an affectionate nature.

" I heard at Bristol, that you and your
friends had remembered me in your pray-
ers, at Kettering. Whether the Lord whom
we serve may see fit to answer your peti-
tions on my account or not, may they at
least be returned into your own bosoms.

" For the sake of others. I should be hap-
py could I assure you that my health was
improving. As to myself, I thank God that
I am not without a desire to depart, and to
be with Christ, which is far better. I find
that neither in sickness, nor in health, I can
be so much as I wish like him whom
I love. ' To die is gain :' Oh to gain that
state, those feelings, that character, which
perfectly accord witli the mind of Christ,
and are attended with the full persuasion
of his complete and everlasting approba-
tion ! I want no heaven but this ; and to
gain this most gladly would I this moment
expire. But if to abide in the flesh be more
needful for an individual, of my fclIow-men,
Lord, let thy will be done ; only let Christ

be magnified by me, whether in lii'e or
death.

" The weather has been so wet and win-
dy since I have been at Plymouth, that I
could not reasonably expect lo be much
better; and I cannot say that I am much
worse. All the future is uncertain. Pro-
fessional men encourage me ; but frequent
returns appear, and occasional discharges
of blood check my expectations. If I speak
but for two minutes, my breast feels as sore
as though it were scraped with a rough-
edged razor ; so that I am mute all the day
long, and have actually learned to converse
with my sister by means of our fingers.

" I thank you for yours of April 4th,
which I did not receive till the 12th, the day
that I arrived at Plymouth. On the 16th
a copy of yours to brother Ryland came to
hand, to which I should have replied yes-
terday, but had not leisure. I am happy
and thankful for your success. May the
Lord himself pilot the Criterion safely to
Calcutta river !

" Unless the Lord work a miracle for me,
I am sure that I shall not be able to attend
the Olney meeting. It is to my feelings a
severe anticipation; but how can I be a
Christian, and not submit to God ?

" S. P."
TO MR. W. WARD.

" Plymouth, April 22, 1799.

" Most affectionately do I thank you for
your letter, so full of'^ information and of
friendship. To our common Friend, who is
gone into heaven where he ever sitteth at the
right hand of God for us, I commend you.
Whether I die, or live, God will take care of
you till he has ripened you for the common
salvation. Then shall I meet my dear broth-
er Ward again ; and who can tell how much
more interesting our intercourse in heaven
will be made by tlie scenes that most dis-
tress our poor spirits here. Oh, had I none
to live for, I had rather die than live, that I
may be at once like Him whom t love.
But while he insures me grace, why should
I regret the delay of glory ? No : I will wait
his will, who performeth all things lor me.

"My dear brother, had I strength, I
should rejoice to acquaint you with the
wrestlings and the victories, the hopes and
the fears, the pleasures and the pangs,
which I have lately experienced. But I
must forbear. All I can now say is, that
God hath done me much good by all, and
made me very thankful for all he has done.
Alas ! I shall see you no more. I cannot
be at Olney on the 7th of May. The
journey would be my death ; but the Lord
whom you serve will be with you then, and
for ever. My love to all the dear assembled
saints, who will give you their benedictions
at that solemn season. Ever yours,

"S. P."

376

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

TO MR. KING.

« Plymouth, April 23, 1799.
"My very dear friend and brother,

" I have the satisfaction to inform you,
that at length my complaint appears to be
removed, and that I am, by degrees, re-
turning to my usual diet, by which, with
the divine blessing, I hope to be again
strengthened for the discharge of the du-
ties, and the enjoyment of the pleasures,
which await me among the dear people of
my charge.

" I am indeed informed by my medical
attendant here, that 1 shall never be equal
to the labors of my past years, and that my
return to moderate efforts must be made by
slow degrees. As the path of duty, I de-
sire to submit; but after so long a suspen-
sion from serving the Redeemer in his
church, my soul pants for usefulness more
extensive than ever, and I long to become
an apostle to the world. I do not think 1
ever prized the ministerial work so much
as I now do. Two questions have been
long before me. The first was, shall I live
or die? The second, if I live, how will
my life be spent? With regard to the for-
mer, my heart answered, ' It is no matter —
all is well — for my own sake, I need not be
taught that it is best to be with Christ; but
for the sake of others, it may be best to
abide in the body — I am in the Lord's
hands, let him do by me as seemcth him
best for me and mine, and for his cause and
honor in the world. But as to the second
question, I could hardly reconcile myself to
the thoughts of living, unless it were to
promote the interest of my Lord ; and if
my disorder should so far weaken me, as
to render me incapable of the ministry,
nothing then appeared before me but gloom
and darkness. However, I will hope in the
Lord, that though he hath cliasiened me
sorely, yet, since he hath not given me over
unto death, sparing mercy will be followed
with strength, that I may show forth his
praise in the land of the living.

"I am still exceedingly weak; more so
tlian at any period before I left home, ex-
cept the first week of my lying by ; but I
am getting strength, though slowly. It is
impossible at present to fix any time for
my return. It grieves me that the patience
of the dear people should be so long tried,
but the trial is as great on my part as it
can be on theirs, and we must pity arid
pray for one another. It is now a task for
me to write at all, or this should have been
longer. S. P.'

TO DR. RYLAND.

" Plymouth, April 24, 1799
" Very dear Brother,

" My health is in much the same state as
when I wrote last, excepting tiiat my mus

cular strength rather increases, and my
powers of speaking seem less and less
every week. I have for the most part,
spoken only in whispers for several days
past; and even these seem too much for
my irritable lungs. My father asked me a
question to-day; he did not understand me
when I whispered ; so I was obliged to ut-
ter one word, and one word only, a little
louder, and that brought on a soreness,
which I expect to feel till bed time.

" I am still looking out lor fine weather :
all here is cold and rainy. We have had
but two or three fair and warm days since
I have been here ; then I felt better. I am
perfectly at a loss even to guess what the
Lord means to do with me ; but I desire to
commit my ways to him, and be at peace.
I am going to-day about five miles into the
country (to Tamerton,) where I shall await
the will of God concerning me.

" I knew not of any Committee-meeting
of our society to be held respecting Mr-
Marshman and his wife. I have therefore
sent no vote, and indeed it is my happiness
that I have full confidence in my bretliren,
at this important crisis, since close thinking
or much writing always increases my fever,
and promotes my complaint.

" My dear brother, I hope you wll cor-
respond much with Kettering. I used to
be a medium, but God has put me out of
the way, I could weep that I can serve
him no more : and yet I fear some would
be tears of pride. Oh for perfect likeness
to my humble Lord ! S, P,"

TO MR, KING,

" Tamerton, May 2, 1799.
'• Give my love fo all the dear peo-
ple at Cannon street. Oh pray that He
who afflicts, would give me patience to en-
dure. Indeed, the state of suspense in which
I have been kept so long, requires much of
it ; and I often exclaim, ere I am aware,
' Oh my dear people ! Oh my dear family !
When shall I be restored to you again ! '
The Lord forgive all the sin of my desires !
At times I feel a sweet and perfect calm,
and wish ever to live under the influence
of a belief in the goodness of God, and of
all his plans, and all his works. S. P."

The reader has seen how much he re-
gretted being absent from the solemn de-
signations of the missionaries at OIney,
He however addressed the following lines
to Mr. Fuller, which were read at the close
of that meeting, to the dissolving of nearly
the whole assembly in tears :

" Tamerton, May 2, 1799,

" Oh that the Lord, who is unconfi-

ned by place or condition, may copiously
pour out upon you all the ricli efTusions of

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

377

his Holy Spirit on the approaching day !
My most hearty love to each missionary,
who may then encircle the throne of grace.
Happy men ! happy women ! your are go-
ing to be fellow-laborers with Christ him-
self! I congratulate, I almost envy you ;
yet I love yoU; and can scarcely now for-
bear dropping a tear of love as each of
your names passes across my mind. Oh
what promises are yours ; and what re-
ward ! Surely heaven is filled with double
joy, and resounds with unusual acclama-
tions at the arrival of each missionary
there. Oh be faithful, my dear brethren,
my dear sisters, be faithful unto death, and
all this joy is yours ! Long as I live, my
imagination will be hovering over you in
Bengal ; and should I die, if separate spir-
its be allowed a visit to the world they
have left, methinks mine would soon be at
Mudnabatty, watching your labors, your
conflicts, and your pleasures, whilst you
are always abounding in the work of the
Lord. S. P."

TO DR. RYLAND.

" Plymouth, May 14, 1799.
"Mv DEAR Brother,

"Yours of the 11th instant I have just
received, and thank you for your continued
concern for your poor unworthy brother.

"I have suffered much in my health
since I wrote to you last by the increase of
my feverish complaint, which filled me with
heat and horror all night, and in the day
sometimes ahnost suffocated me with tlie
violence of its paroxysms. I am extreme-
ly weak, and now that warm weather which
I came into Devon to seek, I dread us much
as the cold, because it excites the fever. I
am happy, however, in the Lord. I have
not a wish to live or die, but as he please^s.
I truly enjoy the gospel of our Lord Jesus
Christ, and would not be without his divine
atonement, wherein to rest my soul, for ten
thousand worlds. I feel quite weaned from
earth, and all things in it. Death has lost
its sting; the grave its horrors; and the at-
tractions of heaven, I had almost said, are
sometimes violent.

" ' Oh to grace how great a debtor ! '

" But I am wearied. May all grace
abound towards ray dear' brother, and his
affectionate. S. P."

TO MR. POPE.

" Plymouth, May 24, 1799,
" I cannot write much — this I believe is
the only letter that I have written (except
to my wife) since I wrote to yo\i last. My
complaint has issued in a confirmed, slow,
nervous fever, which has wasted my spirit?
and strength, and taken a great part of the
little flesh I had when in health from mc.
Vol. 3. — Vv.

The symptoms have been very threatening^
and I have repeatedly thought that let the
physician do what he will, he cannot keep
me long from those heavenly joys, for which,
blessed be God, I have lately been much
longing ; and were it not for my dear 'peo-
ple and family, I should have earnestly
prayed for leave to depart and be with
Christ, which is so much better than to
abide in this vain, suffering, sinning world.
" The doctors, however, now pronounce
my case very hopeful — say there is little or
no danger — but that all these complaints
require a great deal of time to get rid of.
I still feel myself on precarious ground, but
quite resigned to the will of Him, who, un-
worthy as I am, continues daily tcf ' fill my
soul with joy and peace in believing.' Yes,
my dear friend ! noio my soul feels the val-
ue of a free, full, and everlasting salvation ;
and what is more, I do enjoy that salvation,
while I rest all my hope on the Son of God
in human nature, dying on the cross for
me. To me now, health or sickness, pain
or ease, life or death are things indifferent.
I feel so happy in being in the hands of
Infinite Love, that when the severest strokes
are laid upon me, I receive them with pleas-
ure, because they come from my heavenly
Father's hand 1 ' O ! to grace how great
a debtor,' &c. S. P."

TO THE CHURCH IN CANNON
STREET.
« Plymouth, May 31, 1799.
•' To the dear people of my charge, the
flock of Christ, assembling in Cannon street,
Birmingham — their afflicted but affection-
ate pastor presents his love in Christ Jesus,
the great Shepherd of the sheep.

"My dearest Friends and Brethren,

" Separated as I have been a long time
from you, and during that time of separa-
tion, having suffered much both in body
and mind, yet my heart has still been with
you, participating in your sorrows, uniting
in your prayers, and rejoicing with you in
the hope of that glory, to which divine
faithfulness has engaged to bring us, and
for which our heavenly Father, by all his
providences, and by every operation of his
Holy Spirit, is daily preparing us.

" Never, my dear brethren, did I so much
rejoice in our being made ' partakers of the
heavenly calling,' as during rtiy late afflic-
tions. The sweet thoughts of glory, where
I shall meet my dear Lord Jesus, with all
his redeemed ones, perfectly freed from all
that sin which now burdens us, and n)akes
us groan from day to day — this transports
my soul, whilst out of weakness I am made
strong, and at times am enabled to glor}'
even in my bodily infirmities, that the pow-
er of Christ, in supporting v.-hen flesh and

378

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

heart fail, may the more evidently rest up-
on me. Oh, my dear brethren and sisters I
let me, aa one alive almost from the dead,
let me exhort you to stand fast in tJiat bles-
sed gospel, which for ten years I have now
preached among you : the gospel of the
grace of God ; the gospel of free, full, ever-
lasting salvation, founded on the sufferings
and death of God, manifest in the flesh. Look
much at this all-amazing scene !

" ' Behold ! a God descends and dies,
To save my soul from gaping hell ;'

And then say whether any poor broken-
hearted sinner need be afraid to venture his
hopes of salvation on such a sacrifice ; es-
pecially, since He who is thus ' mighty to
save,' hath said, that 'whosoever cometh to
him he will in no wise cast out.' You, be-
loved, who have found the peace-speaking
virtue of this blood of atonement, must not
be satisfied with what you have already
loiown or enjoyed. The only way to be
constantly happy, and constantly prepared
for the most awful changes, which we must
all experience, is to be constantly looking
and coming to a dying Saviour; renoun-
cing all our own worthiness; cleaving to
the loving Jesus as our all in all ; giving
up every thing, however valuable to our
worldly interests, that clashes with our fi-
delity to Christ ; begging that of his fulness
we may receive ' grace upon grace,' whilst
our faith actually relies on his power and
faithfulness, for the full accomplishment of
every promise in his word that we plead
with him, and guarding against every thing
that might for a moment bring distance and
darkness between your souls, and your pre-
cious Lord. If you thus live, (and oh that
you may daily receive fresh life from Christ
BO to do !) ' the peace of God will keep
your hearts and minds,' and you will be
filled with 'joy unspeakable and full of glo-

" As a Church, you cannot conceive what
pleasure I have enjoyed in hearing that
you are in peace ; that you attend prayer-
meetings ; that you seem to be stirred up
of late for the honor and prosperity of reli-
gion. Go on in these good ways, my be-
loved friends, and assuredly the God of
peace will be with you. Yea, if after all I
should be taken entirely from you, yet God
will surely visit you, and never leave you,
nor forsake you.

" As to my health, I seem on the whole
to be still mending, though but very slowly.
The fever troubles me often both by day
and night; but my strength increases. I
long to see your faces in the flesh ; yea,
when I thought myself near the gates of the
grave, I wished, if it were the Lord's will,
to depart among those whom I so much
loved. But I am in good hands, and all
must be right.

" I thank both you and the congregation
most affectionately, for all the kindness you
have shown respecting me and my family,
during my absence. The Lord return it a
thousand fold ! My love to every one, both
old and young, rich and poor, as though
named. The Lord bless to your edification
the occasional ministry which you enjoy.
I hope you regularly attend upon it, and
keep together, as ' the horses in Pharaoh's
chariot.' I pray much for you : pray, still
pray for your very affectionate, though un-
worthy, pastor, S. P."

In a postscript to Mr. King, he says, " I
have made an effort to write this letter; my
afiections would take no denial ; but it has
brought on the fever."

It seems to have been about this time
that he wrote the following lines, which
have appeared in several periodical publi-
cations, but with many inaccuracies :

HYMN IN A STORM.

" In the floods of tribulation,

While the billows o'er ine roll,
Jesus whispers consolation,

And supports my fainting soul:
Thus the lion yields me honey,

From the eater food is given ;
Strengihen'd thus, I still press forward^

Singing as I wade to lieaven, —
Sweei alfliclion ! sweet affliction,

That brings Jesus to my soul !

'Mid the gloom the vivid lightnings

With increased brightness play ;
'Mid tlie Ihornbrakp, beauteous flow'rets

Look more beautiful and gay ;
So, in darkest dispensations.

Doth my faithful Lord appear,
With his richest consolations,

To re-aniinate and cheer.
Sweet affliction ! sweet affliction,

Thus to bringmy Saviour near !

Floods of tribulation heighten,

Billows still around me roar ;
Those that know not Christ — ye frighten,

But my soul defies your pow'r.
In the sacred page recorded,

Thus his word securely stands, —
'Fear not, I'm in trouble near thee,

Nought shall pluck thee from my hands.'
Sweet affliction ! sweet affliction.

That to such sweet words lays claim !

AH I meet I find assists me

In my path to heavenly joy,
Where, though trials now attend nic,

Trials never more aimoy :
Wearing there a weight of glory

.Slill the path I'll ne'er forget;
But, reflecting how it led me

To my blessed Saviour's seat,
Cry, 'affliction ! sweet affliction !

Haste ! bring more to Jesus' feet !' "

Towards the latter end of May, when
Mr. Ward, and his companions, were just
ready to set sail, a consultation concerning
Mr. Pearce was held on board the Crite-
j'ion, in which all the missionaries, and
some of the members of the Baptist Mis-
sionary Society were present. It was well
known that he had for several years been
engaged in preparing materials for a His-
tory of Missiom, to be comprised in two

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE,

379

volumes octavo : and as the sending of the
gospel among the heathens had so deeply
occupied his heart, considerable expecta-
tions had been formed by religious people,
of his producing an interesting work on the
subject. The question now was, could not
this performance be fininshed by other
hands, and the profits of it be appropriated
to the benefit of Mr. Peace's family? It
was admitted by all, that this work would,
partly from its own merits, and partly from
the great interest which the author justly
possessed in the public esteem, be very pro-
ductive ; and that it would be a delicate
and proper method of enabling the religious
public, by subscribing liberally to it, to af-
ford substantial assistance to the family of
this excellent man. The result was, that
one of the members of the society address-
ed a letter to Mr. Pearce's relations, at Ply-
mouth, requesting them to consult him as
he should be able to bear it, respecting the
state of his manuscipts ; and to inquire
■whether they were in a condition to admit
of being finished by another hand ; desi-
ring them also to assure him, for his pres-
ent relief concerning his dear family, that
whatever the hand of friendship could ef-
fect on their behalf, should be accomplish-
ed. The answer, though it left no manner
of hope as to the accomplishment of the ob-
ject, yet is so expressive of the reigning
dispositions of the writers heart, as an af-
fectionate husband, a tender father, a grate-
ful friend, and a sincere Christian, that it
cannot be uninteresting to the reader:

" Tamerton, June 24, 1799.
" To use the common introduction of
' dear brother,' would fall so far short of my
feelings towards a friend, whose uniform
conduct has ever laid so great a claim to
my affection and gratitude ; but whose recent
kindness; kindness in adversity; kindness
to my wife ; kindness to my children ; kind-
ness that would go far to ' smooth the bed
of death,' has overwhelmed my whole soul
in tender thankfulness, and engaged my
everlasting esteem. I know not how to be-
gin . . . . ' Thought is poor, and poor ex-
pression.' The only thing that lay heavy
on my heart, when in the nearest prospect
of eternity, was the future situation of my
family. I had but a comparatively small
portion to leave behind me, and yet that
little was the all that an amiable woman,
delicately brought up, and, through mercy,
for the most part comfortably provided for
since she entered on domestic life: with
five babes to feed, clothe, and educate, had
to subsist on. Ah, what a prospect? Hard
and long I strove to realize the promises
made to the widows and the fatherless ;
but these alone I could not fully rest on and
enjoy. For my own part, God was indeed

very gracious. I was willing, I hope, to
linger in suffering, if I might thereby most
glorify him, and death was an angel whom
I longed to come and embrace me, ' cold'
as his embraces are. But how could I leave
those who were dearest to my heart in the
midst of a world, in which, although thou-
sands now professed friendship for me, and
on my account, for mine ; yet after my de-
cease, would, with few exceptions, soon
forget my widow and my children among
the crowds of the needy and distressed. It
was at this moment of painful sensibility
that ijour heart meditated apian to remove
my anxieties ; a plan too that would in-
volve much personal labor before it could
be accomplished. 'Blessed be God, who
put it into thy heart, and blessed be thou.'
May the blessing of the widow and the
fatherless rest on you and yours for ever.
Amen, and Amen !

" You will regret perhaps that I have ta-
ken up so much room respecting yourself,
but I have scarcely gratified the shadow
of my wishes. Excuse then on the one
hand, that I have said so much, and accept
on the other, what remains unexpressed.

" My affections and desires are among
my dear people at Birmingham ; and un-
less I find my strength increase here, I pur-
pose to set out for that place in the course
of a fortnight, or at most a month. The
journey, performed by short stages may do
me good : if not, I expect when the winter
comes, to sleep in peace : and it will de-
light my soul to see them once more before
I die. Besides, I have many little arrange-
ments to make among my books and pa-
pers, to prevent confusion after my de-
cease. Indeed, till I get home, I cannot
fully answer your kind letter ; but I fear
that my materials consist so much in ref-
erences, which none but myself would un-
derstand, that a second person could not
take it up, and prosecute it. I am still
equally indebted to you for a proposal so
laborious.

" Rejoice with me that the blessed gos-
pel still ' bears my spirits up.' I am be-
come familiar with the thoughts of dying.
I have taken my leave often with the world ;
and thanks be to God, I do it ahcays with
tranquility^ and often with rapture. Oh,
what grace, what grace, it was, that ever
called me to be a Christian ! What would
have been my present feelings, if I were
going to meet my God with all the filth and
load of my sin about me ! But God in my
nature hath put my sin away, taught me
to love him, and long for his appearing.
Oh, my dear brother, how consonant is ev-
erlastvig praise with such a great salva-
tion ! S. P.»

After this another letter was addressed

380

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

to Mr. Pearce, informing him more partic-
ularly that the above proposal did not ori-
ginate with an individual, but with several
of tJie brethren who dearly loved him, and
had consulted on the business ; and that it
was no more than an act of justice to one
who had spent his hfe in serving the pub-
lic ; also requesting him to give directions
by which his manuscripts might be found
and examined, lest he should be taken away
before his arrival at Birmingham. To this
he answered as follows :

'• Plymouth, July 6, 1799.

" I need not repeat the growing sense I
have of your kindness, and yet I know not
how to forbear.

" I cannot direct Mr. K to all my

papers, as many of them are in books from
■which I was making extracts ; and if I could,
I am persuaded that they are in a state too
confused, incorrect, and unfinished, to suffer
you or any other friend to realize your kind
intentions.

" I have possessed a tenacious memory.
I have begun one part of the history ; read
the necessary books ; reflected ; arranged ;
written, perhaps, the introduction ; and
then, trusting to my recollection, with the
revisal of the books as I should want them,
have employed myself in getting materi-
als for another part, &c. Thus, till my ill-
ness, the volumes existed in my head ; my
books were at hand, and I was on the eve
of writing them out, when it pleased God
to make me pause : and, as close thinking
has been strongly forbidden me, I dare say,
that were I again restored to health, I
should find it necessary to go over much
of my former reading to refresh memory

" It is now Saturday. On Monday next
we propose setting out on our return. May
the Lord prosper our way ! Accept the
sincere affection, and the ten thousand
thanks, of your brother in the Lord,

" S. P."

As the manuscripts were found to be in
such a state, that no person, except the au
thor himself, could finish them, the design
was necessarily dropped. The public
mind however, was deeply impressed with
Mr. Pearce's worth, and that, which the
friendship of a few could not effect, has
since been amply accomplished by the lib
eral exertions of many.

TO DR. RYLAND.

" Birmingham, July 20, 1799.

"MV VERY DEAR BROTHER,

" Your friendly anxieties on my behalf
demand the earliest satisfaction. We had
a pleasant ride to Newport on the after-
noon we left you, and the next day with
out much fatigue reached Tewksbury ; but

the road was so rough from Tewksbury to
Evesham, that it wearied and injured me
more than all the jolting we had had before
put together. However, we reached Al-
cester on Wednesday evening, stopped
there a day to rest, and last night (Friday)
were brought safely hither, blessed be
God!

" I find myself getting weaker and weak-
er, and so my Lord instructs me in hia
pleasure to remove me soon. You say well,
my dear brother, that at such a prospect,
I 'cannot complain.'' No, blessed be His
dear name, who shed his blood for me, he
helps me to rejoice, at times with joy un-
speakable. Now I see the value of the re-
ligion of the cross. It is a religion for a
dying sinner. It is all the most guilty, the
most wretched can desire. Yes, I taste its
sweetness, and enjoj' its fulness, with all
the gloom of a dying bed before me. And
far rather would I be the poor emaciated,
and emaciating creature that I am, than be
an Emperor, with every earthly good about
hira .... but without a God !

" I was delighted the other day, in re-
perusing the Pilgrim's Progress, to observe
that when Christian came to the top of the
hill Difficulty, he was put to sleep in a
chamber called Peace. Why, how good ia
the Lord of the way to me ! said I ; I have
not reached the summit of the hill yet, but
notwithstanding he puts me to sleep in the
chamber of Peace every night. True, it is
often a chamber of pain; but let pain be
as formidable as it may, it has never yet
been able to expel that peace, which the
great Guardian of Israel has appointed to
keep my heart and mind through Christ
Jesus.

" I have been laboring lately to exercise
most love to God when I have been suffer-
ing most severely : but, what shall I say ?
Alas ! too often the sense of pain absorbs
every other thought. Yet there have been
seasons when I have been affected with
such a delightful sense of the loveliness of
God as to ravish my soul, and give pre-
dominance to the sacred passion. It was
never till to-day that I got any personal in-
struction from our Lord's telling Peter by
what death he should glorify God. O what
a satisfying thought is it, that God appoints
those means of dissolution whereby he gets
most glory to himself It was the very
thing I needed ; for of all the ways of dy-
ing, that which I most dreaded was by a
consumption ; (in which it is now highly
probable my disorder will issue.) But, O
my dear Lord, if by this death I can most
glorify thee, I prefer it to all others, and
thank thee that by this means thou art has-
tening my fuller enjoyment of thee in a
purer world.
" A sinless state ! ' O 'tis a heaven

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

381

worth dying for !' I cannot realize any
thing about heaven, but the presence of
Christ and his people, and a perfect deliv-
erance from sin, and I want no more ; I am
sick of sinning ; soon I shall be beyond its
power. ' O joyful hour ! O blessed abode !
I shall be near and like my God !' I only
thought of filling one side ; and now have
not left room to thank you and dear Mrs.
Ryland for the minute, affectionate, and
constant attentions you paid us in Bristol.
May the Lord reward you. Our hearty
love to all around, till we meet in heaven.
« Eternally yours in Christ, S. P."

TO MR. BIRT.

" Birmingham^ July 26, 1799.

" It is not with common feelings that I
begin a letter to you. Your name brings
so many interesting circumstances of my
life before me, in which your friendship has
been so uniformly and eminently displayed,
that now, amidst the imbecilities of sick
ness, and the serious prospect of another
world, my heart is overwhelmed with grat-
itude, whilst it glows with affection ; an af-
fection which eternity shall not annihilate,
but improve.

" We reached Bristol on the Friday af-
ter we parted from you, having suited our
progress to my strength and spirits. We
staid with Bristol friends, till Monday, when
we pursued our journey, and went comfort-
ably on, till the uncommonly rough road
from Tewksbury to Evesham quite jaded
me ; and I have not yet recovered from the
excessive fatigue of that miserable ride.
At Alcester we rested a day and a half, and,
through the abundant goodness of God we
safely arrived at Birmingham on Friday
evening, the 19th of July.

"I feel an undisturbed tranquility of
soul, and am cheerfully waiting the will
of God. My voice is gone, so that I can-
not whisper without pain ; and this circum-
stance I am at times most ready to com-
plain. For, to see my dear and amiable
Sarah look at me, and then at the child-
ren, and at length bathe her face in tears,
without my being able to say one word of

comfort ; Oh ! ! Yet the Lord sup

ports me under this also ; and I trust will
support me lo the end. S. P."

leased from this world of sin, and put in
possession of the pleasures enjoyed by the
spirits of just men made perfect, I once
more address my dear fellow heirs of that
glory which ere long shall be revealed to
us all.

'' We returned from Devon last Friday
week. I was exceedingly weak, and for
several days afterwards got rapidly worse.
My friends compelled me to try another
physician. I am still told that 1 shall re-
cover. Be that as it may, I wish to have
my own will annihilated, that the will of
the Lord may be done. Through his
abundant grace, I have been, and still am
happy in my soul ; and I trust my prevail-
ing desire is, that living or dying I may be

the Lord's.

S. P."

TO MR. ROCK.

''July 28, 1799.
appearance

I am now to all

within a few steps of eternity. In Christ
I am safe. In him I am happy. I trust we
shall meet in heaven. S. P."

TO R. BOWYER, ESQ.

" Birmingham, August 1, 1799.
" Much disappointed that I am not re-

TO DR. RYLAND.

" Birmingham, Aug. 4, 1799.
"My very dear Brother,

" Still, I trust, hastening to the land
' where there shall be no more curse,' I
take this opportunity of talking a little with
you on the road, for we are fellow-travel-
ers, and a little conversation by the way
will not lose me the privilege of getting
first to the end of my journey.

"It is seventeen years within about a
week since I first actually set out on my pil-
grimage ; and when I review the many
dangers to which, during that time, I have
been exposed, I am filled with conviction
that I have all along been the care of Om-
nipotent Love. Ah how many Pliables,
and Timorouses, and Talkatives have I
seen, while my quivering heart said, ' Alas !
I shall soon follow these sons of apostasy,
prove a disgrace to religion, and have my
portion with hypocrites at last.'

" These fears may have had their uses ;
may have made me more cautious, more
distrustful of myself, and kept me more de-
pendant on the Lord. Thus

" ' All that I've met has work'd for my good.'

" With what intricacy, to our view, and
yet with what actual skill and goodness,
does the Lord draw his plans, and mark
out our path! Here we wonder and com-
plain. Soon we shall all agree that it was
a right path to the city of habitation ; and
what we now most deeply regret, shall be-
come the subject of our warmest praises.

" I am afraid to come back again to life.

0 how many dangers await me ! Perhaps

1 may be overcome of some fleshly lust;
perhaps I may get proud and indolent, and
be more of the priest than of the evangelist,
surely I rejoice in feeling my outward man
decay, and having the sentence of death in
myself. O what prospects are before me
in the blessed world whither I am going !
To be holy as God is holy ; to have nothing

382

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

but holiness in my nature, to be assured
without a doubt, and eternally to carry
about this assurance with me, that the pure
God looks on me with constant complacen-
cy, for ever blesses me, and says, as at the
first creation, ' It is very good.' I am hap-
py now in hoping in the divine purposes
towards me ; but I know, and the thought
is my constant burden, that the Being I
love best, always sees something in me
which he infinitely hates. ' O wretched,
wretched man that I am !' The thought
even now makes me weep, and who can
help it, that seriously reflects, he never
comes to God to pray or praise, but he
brings what his God detests along with
him ; carries it with him wherever he goes,
and can never get rid of it as long as he
lives 1 Come, my dear brother ! will you
not share my joy, and help my praise, that
soon I shall leave this body of sin and
death behind, to enter on the perfection of
my spiritual nature ; and patiently to wait
till this natural body shall become a spirit-
ual body, and so be a fit vehicle for my im-
mortal and happy spirit ?

" But I must forbear ; I have been very
unwell all day ; but this evening God has
kindly given me a respite ; my fever is low
and my spirits are cheerful, so I have in-
dulged myself in unbosoming my feelings
to my dear friend. S. P."

TO R. BOWYER, ESa

On his having; sent hir.i a print of Mr. Shwartz, the mis-
sionary on the Malabar coast.

" Birmingham, August 16, 1799.
" On three accounts was your last par-
cel highly acceptable. It represented a
man, whom I have long been in the habit
of loving and revering ; and whose char-
acter and labors I intended, if the Lord had
not laid his hand upon me by my present
illness, to have presented to the public in
Europe, as he himself presented them to
the millions of Asia. The execution bear-
ing so strong a likeness to the original,
heightened its value. And then, the hand
from whence it came, and the friendship it
was intended to express, add to its worth.

" S. P."

TO MR. FULLER.

" Birminghaw,, August 19, 1799.

" The doctor has been making me worse
and weaker for three weeks. In the mid-
dle of the last week he spoke confidently of
my recovery ; but to-day he has seen fit to
alter his plans ; and if I do not find a spee-
dy alteration for the better, I must have
done with all physicians, but him, who
' healeth the broken in heart.'

" For some time after I came home, I was
led to believe my case to be consumptive,
and then thinking myself of a certainty near

the kingdom of heaven, I rejoiced hourly

in the delightful prospect.

" Since then, I have been told that I am
not in a dangerous way ; and though I give
very little credit to such assertions in this
case, yet I have found my mind so taken
up with earth again, that I seem as though
I had another soul. My spiritual pleasures
are greatly interrupted, and some of the
most plaintive parts of the most plaintive
Psalms seem the only true language of my
heart. Yet, ' Thy will be done,' 1 trust
prevails ; and if it be the Lord's will that I
linger long, and suffer much, O let him give
me the patience of hope, and still his will
be done. I can write no more. This is a
whole day's work : for it is only after tea
that for a ?ew minutes I can sit up, and at-
tend to any thing. S. P."

From the latter end of August, and all
through the month of September, to the
tenth of October, the day omchich he died,
he seems to have been unable to write.
He did not, however, lose the exercise of
his mental powers ; and though in the last
of the above letters he complains of dark-
ness, it appears that he soon recovered that
peace and joy in God, by which his afflic-
tion, and even his life were distinguished.

A little before he died, he was visited by
Mr. Medley, of London, with whom he had
been particularly intimate on his first com-
ing to Birmingham. Mr. Pearce was much
affected at the sight of his friend ; and con-
tinued silently weeping for nearly ten min-
utes, holding and pressing his hand. After
this he spoke, or rather, whispered as fol-
lows : " This sick bed is a Bethel to me ;
it is none other than the house of God, and
the gate of heaven. I can scarcely express
the pleasures that; I have enjoyed in this af-
fliction. The nearer I draw to my dissolu-
tion, the happier I am. It scarcely can be
called an affliction, it is so counterbalanced
with joy. You have lost your pious father ;
tell me how it was." Here Mr. Medley in-
formed him of particulars. He wept much
at the recital, and especially at hearing of
his last words, ' Home, Home !' Mr. Med-
ley telling him of some temptations he had
lately met with, he charged him to keep
near to God. " Keep close to God," said
he, " and nothing will hurt you."

The following detached sentences were taken down oc-
casidnally by Mrs. Pearce, within four or five weelis
of Mr. Pearce's death.

He once said, "I have been in darkness
two or three days, crying, O when wilt
thou comfort me! but last night the mist
was taken from me, and the Lord shone in
upon my soul. O that I could but speak, I
would tell a world to trust a faithful God.
Sweet affliction, now it worketh glory, glo-
ry P'

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE,

383

Mrs. P. having told him the various ex-
ercises of her mind, he replied, " O trust
the Lord, if he lifts up the light of his coun-
tenance upon you, as he has done upon me
this day, all your mountains will become
mole-hills. I feel your situation, I feel your
sorrows ; but he who takes care of spar-
rows, will care for you and my dear child-
ren."

When scorching with burning fever, he
said, " Hot and happy." One Lord's-day
morning he said, " Cheer up, my dear,
think how much will be said to-day of the
fathfulness of God. Though we are called
to separate, he will never separate from
you. I wish I could tell the world what a
good and gracious God he is. Never need
they, who trust in him, be afraid of trials.
He has promised to give strength for the
day ; that is his promise. O what a lovely
God ! and he is my God and yours. He
will never leave us nor forsake us, no, nev-
er ! I have been thinking that this and that
medicine will do me good, but what have
I to do with it 1 It is in my Jesus' hands
he will do it all, and there I leave it. What
a mercy is it, I have a good bed to lie up-
on ; you, my dear Sarah, to wait upon me ;
and friends to pray for me I O how thank
ful should I be for all my pains ! I want for
nothing : all my wishes are anticipated.

0 I have felt the force of those words of
David, ' Unless thy law, (my gracious
God!) had been my delight, I should have
perished in mine affliction.' Though I am
too weak to read it, or hear it, I can think
upon it, and O how good it is ! I am in the
best hands I could be in, in the hands of
my dear Lord and Saviour, and he will do
all things well. Yes, yes, he cannot do
wrong."

One morning Mrs. P. asked him how he
felt? "Very ill, but unspeakably happy
in the Lord and my dear Lord Jesus."
Once beholding her grieving, he said, " O
my dear Sarah, do not be so anxious, but
leave me entirely in the hands of .lesus, and
think, if you were as wise as he, you would
do the same by me. If he takes me, I shall
not be lost, I shall only go a little before
we shall meet again, never to part."

After a violent fit of coughing he said,
" It is all well ; O what a good God is he !
It is done by him, and it must be well ; If

1 ever recover, I shall pity the sick more
than ever, and if I do not, I shall go to
sing delivering love ; so you see it will be
all well. O for more patience ! Well, my
God is the God of patience, and he will
give me all I need. I rejoice it is my Je-
sus' hands to communicate, and it cannot
be in better. It is my God who gives me
patience to bear all his will."

When after a restless night, Mrs. P. ask-
ed him, what she should do for him?

' You can do nothing but pray for me, that
I may have patience to bear all my Lord's
will." After taking a medicine he said, " If
it be the Lord's will to bless it, for your
sake, and for the sake of the dear children ;
but the Lord's will be done. O I fear I sin,
I dishonor God by impatience ; but I would
not for a thousand worlds sin in a thought
if I could avoid it." Mrs. P. replied, she
trusted the Lord would still keep him ; see-
ing he had brought him thus far, he would
not desert him at last. "No, no," he said,
" I hope he will not. As a father pitieth
his children, so the Lord pitieth them that
fear him. Why do I complain? My dear
Jesus' sufferings were much sorer and more
bitter than mine : And did he thus suffer,
and shall I repine ! No, I will cheerfully
suffer my Father's will."

One morning after being asked how he
felt, he replied, " I have but one severe pain
about me ! What a mercy ! O how good
a GqA. to afford some intervals amidst so
much pain ! He is altogether good. Jesus
lives, my dear, and that must be our con-
solation." After taking a medicine which
operated very powerfully, he said, " This
will make me so much lower ; well, let it be.
Multiply my pains, thou good God ; so thou
art but glorified, I care not what I suffer ;
all is right."

Being asked how he felt after a restless
night, he replied, " I have so much weak-
ness and pain, I have not had much enjoy-
ment ; but I have a full persuasion that the
Lord is doing all these well. If it were
not for strong confidence in a lovely God, I
must sink ; but all is well. O blessed God,
I would not love thee less ; O support a
sinking worm ! O what a mercy to be as-
sured that all things are working together
for good."

Mrs. P. saying. If we must part, I trust
the separation will not be for ever ; " O
no," he replied, " we sorrow not as those
who have no hope." She said. Then you
can leave me and your dear children with
resignation, can you ? He answered, "My
heart was pierced through with many sor-
rows, before I could give you and the dear
children up ; but the Lord has heard me
say. Thy will be done ; and I now can say
blessed be his dear name, I have none of
my own."

His last day, Oct. 10 was very happy;
Mrs. P. repeated this verse,

Since all that I meet shall work for mvgood,
The bitter is sweet, the med'cine is food,
Though painful at present, 'twill cease before long.
And then, O how pleasant the conqueror's song.

He repeated with an inexpressible smile,
the last line " The conqueror^s song."

He said once, " O my dear ! what shall I
do ? But why do I complain ? He makes

384

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE,

all my bed in my sickness." She then re-
peated those lines,

" Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are."

" Yes," he replied, " he can ; he does ; I
feel it."

CHAPTER V.

General Outlines of his Charater.

To develope the character of any person,
it is necessary to determine what was his
governing principle. If this can be clear-
ly ascertained, we will easily account for
the tenor of his conduct.

The governing principle in Mr. Pearce,
beyond all doubt, was holy love.

To mention this is sufficient to prove it to
all who knew him. His friends have often
compared him to that disciple whom Jesus
loved. His religion was that of the heart.
Almost every thing he saw, or heard, or
read, or studied, was converted to the feed-
ing of tliis divine flame. Every subject
that passed through his hands seemed to
have been cast into this mould. Things,
that to a merely speculative mind would
have furnished matter only for curiosity, to
him afforded materials for devotion. His
sermons were generally the eff'usions of his
heart, and invariably aimed at the hearts
of his hearers.

For the justness of the above remarks, I
might appeal not only to the letters which
he addressed to his friends, but to those
which his friends addressed to him. It is
worthy of notice how much we are influen
ced in our correspondence by the turn of
mind of the person we address. If we
write to a humorous character, we shall
generally find that what we write, perhaps
without being conscious of it, will be inter-
spersed with pleasantries : or if to one of a
very serious cast, our letters will be more
serious than usual. On this principle, it
has been thought, we may form some judg-
ment of our own spirit by the spirit in which
our friends address us. These remarks
will apply with singular propriety to the
correspondence of Mr. Pearce. In looking
over the first volume of Periodical accounts
of the liaplisl iMission, the reader will easi-
ly perceive the most affectionate letters
from the missionaries are those which are
addressed to him.

It is not enough to say of this affection-
ate spirit, that it formed a prominent fea-
ture in his character, it was rather the life
blood that animated tlie whole system.
He see lied, as one of his friends observed
to be baptized in it. It was holy love that
gave the tone to his general deportment
as a son, a subject, a neighbor, a Christian.

a minister, a pastor, a friend, a husband,
and a father, he was manifestly governed
by this principle ; and this it was that pro-
duced in him that lovely uniformity of char-
acter, which constitutes the true beauty of
holiness.

By the grace of God he was what he
was ; and to the honor of grace, and not
for the glory of a sinful worm, be it record-
ed. Like all other men, he was the subject
of a depraved nature. He felt it, and la-
mented it, and longed to depart, that he
might be freed from it: but certainly we
have seldom seen a character, taking him
altogether, " whose excellencies were so
many, and so uniform, and whose imper-
fections were so few." We have seen men
rise high in contemplation, who have
abounded but little in action. We have
seen zeal mingled wiih bitterness, andean-
dor degenerate into indifference ; experi-
mental religion mixed with a large portion
of enthusiasm, and what is called rational
religion void of every thing that interests
the heart of man. We have seen splendid
talents tarnished with insufferable pride,
seriousness and melancholy, cheerfulness
with levity, and great attainments in reli-
gion with uncharitable censoriousness to-
wards men of low degree : but we have
not seen these things in our brother Pearce.

There have been few men in whom has
been united a greater portion of the con-
templative and the active ; holy zeal and
genuine candor ; spirituality and rationali-
ty; talents that attracted almost universal
applause, and the most unaffected modesty :
faithfulness in bearing testimony against
evil, with the tenderest compassion to the
soul of the evil doer; fortitude that would
encounter any difficulty in the way of duty,
without any thing boisterous, noisy, or
overbearing ; deep seriousness, with habit-
ual cheerfulness ; and a constant aim to
promote the highest degrees of piety in
himself and others, with a readiness to
hope the best of the lowest; not breaking
the bruised reed, nor quenching the smoking
flax.

He loved the Divine character as reveal-
ed in the scriptures. To adore God, to con-
template his glorious perfections, to enjoy
his favor, and to submit to his disposal,
were his highest delight. " I felt," says he,
when contemplating the hardships of a mis-
sionary life, '' that were the universe de-
stroyed, and I the only being in it besides
God, HE is fully adequate to my complete
happiness ; and had I been in an African
wood, surrounded with venomous serpents,
devouring beasts, and savage men, in such
a frame, I should be the subject of perfect
peace and exalted joy. Yes, O my God !
thou hast taught mo that tJiou, alone art
worthy of my confidence ; and with this

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

385

sentiment fixed in my heart, I am freed
from ciU solicitude about my temporal con-
cerns. If thy presence be enjoyed, poverty
shall be riches, darkness light, affliction
prosperity, reproach my honor, and fatigue
my rest !'"

He loved the Gospel. The truths which
he beHeved and taught, dwelt richly in him,
in all wisdom and spiritual understanding.
The reader will recollect how he went
over the great principles of Christianity,
examining the grounds on which he rested.
in the first of those days which he devoted
to solemn fasting and prayer in reference
to his becoming a missionary ; and with
what ardent affection he set his seal anew
to every part of divine truth as he went
along.

If salvation had been of works, few
men, according to our way of estimating
characters, had a fairer claim ; but, as, he
himself has related, he could not meet ihe
king of terrors in this armour. So far
was he from placing any dependence on
his own works, that the more he did for
God, the less he thought of it in such a way.
" All the satisfaction I wish for here," says
he, "is to be doing my heavenly Father's
will. I hope I have found it my meat and
drink to do his work; and can set to my
seal, that the purest pleasures of human
life spring from the humble obedience of
faith. It is a good saying, ' We cannot do
too much for God, nor trust in what we do
too little.' I find a growing conviction of
the necessity of a free salvation. The
more I do for God, the less I think of it ;
and am progressively ashamed that I do no
more."

Christ crucified was his darling theme,
from first to last. This was the subject on
which he dwelt at the outset of his minis
try among the Coldford colliers, when " He
could scarcely speak for weeping, nor they
hear for interrupting sighs and sobs ;" this
was the burden of the song when address-
ing the more polished and crowded audien-
ces at Birmingham, London and Dublin;
this was the grand motive exhibited in ser-
mons lor the promotion of public charities ;
and this was the rock on which he rested
all his hopes, in the prospect of death. It
is true as we have seen, he was shaken for
a time by the writings of a IVhitby and of
a Priestly; but this transient hesitation,
by the overruling grace of God, tended on-
ly to establish him more firmly in the end.
" Blessed be his dear name," says he, under
his last affliction, " who shed his blood for
me. He helps me to rejoice at times with
joy unspeakable. Now I see the value of
the religion of the cross. It is a religion
for a dying sinner. It is all the most guilty
and the most wretched can desire. Yes I
taste its sweetness and enjov its fulness,
Vol. 3.— Wv,'.

with all the gloom of a dying bed for me ;
and far rather would I be the poor emaci-
ated and emaciating creature that I am,
than be an emperor with every earthly
good about him, but without a God."

Notwithstanding this, however, there
were those in Birmingham, and other pla-
ces, who could not allow that he preached
the gospel. And if by the gospel were
meant the doctrine taught by Mr. Hunting-
ton, Mr Bradford and others who follow
hard after them, it must be granted he did
not. If the fall and depravity of man ope-
rate to destroy his accountableness to his
Creator ; if his inability to obey the law,
or comply with the gospel, be of such a
nature as to excuse him in the neglect of
either ; or if not, yet, if Christ's coming un-
der the law frees believers from all obliga-
tion to obey its precepts ; if gospel invita-
tions are addressed only to the regener-
ate ; if the illuminating influences of the
Holy Spirit consist in revealing to us the
secret purposes of God concerning us, or
impressing us with the idea that we are the
favorites of Heaven ; if believing such im-
pressions be Christian faith, and doubting
of their validity unbelief; if there be no
such thing as progressive sanctification,
nor any sanctification inherent, except that
of the illumination before described ; if
wicked men are not obliged to do any thing
beyond what they can find in their hearts
to do, nor good men to be holy beyond
what they actually are ; and if these things
constitute the gospel, Mr. Pearce certainly
did not preach it. But if man, whatever
be his depravity, be necessarily a free agent,
and accountable for all his dispositions
and actions ; if gospel invitations be ad-
dressed to men not as elect, nor as non-elect,
but as sinners exposed to the righteous
displeasure of God ; if Christ's obedience
and death rather increase than diminish
our obligations to love God and one anoth-
er ; if faith in Christ be a falling in with
God's way of salvation, and unbelief a fall-
ing out with it; if sanctification be a pro-
gressive work, and so essential a branch of
our salvation, as that without it no man shall
see the Lord ; if the Holy Spirit instruct us
in nothing by his illuminating influences but
what was already revealed in the scrip-
tures, and which we should have perceived
but for that we loved darkness rather than
ligiit; and if he inclines us to nothing but
what was antecedently right, or to such a
spirit as every intelligent creature ouglit at
all limes to have possessed, then Mr. Pearce
did. preach the gospel ; and that which hia
accusers call by this name is another gos-
pel, and not the gospel of Christ.

Moreover if the doctrine taught by Mr,
Pearce be not the gospel of Christ, and
that which is taught by the above writers

386

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

and their adherents be, it may be expected
that the effects produced will in some de-
gree correspond with this representation :
and, is it evident to all men who are ac-
quainted with both, and who judge impar-
tially, that the doctrine taught by Mr.
Pearce is productive of haired, variance,
emulations, wrath, strife, railings, evil sur-
misi7igs, and perverse disputvigs; that it ren-
ders those who embrace it lovers of their own
selves, covetous, boasters, prorid, false accu-
sers, fierce, despisers of those that are good ;
while that of his adversaries promotes love,
joy, peace, long suffering, gentleness, good-
ness, faith, meekness and temperance 7 \Miy
even of yourselves judge ye not what is
right 7 Ye shall know them by their fruits 7

Mr Pearce's ideas of preaching human
obligation may be seen in the following ex-
tract from a letter addressed to a young
minister who was sent out of the church of
which he was pastor. " You request my
thoughts how a minister should preach hu-
inan obligation. I would reply, do it exten-
sively, do it constantly; but withal, do it
affectionately and evangelically. I think,
considering the general character of our
hearers, and the state of their mental im-
provement, it would be time lost to argue
much from the data of natural religion.
The best way is, perhaps, to express duties
in scripture language, and enforce them by
evangelical motives ; as, the example of
Christ — the ends of his suffering and death,
the consciousness of his approbation — the
assistance he has promised — the influence
of a holy conversation on God's people,
and on the people of the world — the small
returns we at best can make for the love of
Jesus — and the hope of eternal holiness.
These form a body of arguments, which the
most simple may understand, and the most
dull may feel. Yet I would not neglect on
some occasions to show the obligations of
man to love his Creator — the reasonable-
ness of the divine law — and the natural
tendency of its commands to promote our
own comfort, the good of society, and the
glory of God. These will serve to illumi-
nate, but, after all, it is the gospel of the
grace of God that will most effectually an-
imate and impel to action."

Mr. Pearce's affection to the doctrine of
the cross was not merely nor principally on
account of its being a system which secu-
red his own safety. Had this been the case:
he might, like others, whose religion ori-
ginates and terminates in self-love, have
been delighted with the idea of the grace
of the Son, but it would have been at the
expense of all complacency in the right-
eous government of the Father. He might
have admired something which he accoun-
ted the gospel, as saving him from misery ;
but he could have discerned no loveliness

in the divine law as being holy, just and
good, nor in the mediation of Christ as do-
ing honor to it. That which in his view
constituted the glory of the gospel was,
that God is therein revealed as the just God
and the Saviour— just and the justifier of
him that believeth in Jesus.

He was a lover of good men. He was
never more in his element than when join-
ing with them in spiritual conversation,
prayer and praise. His heart was tenderly
attached to the people of his charge ; and it
was one of the bitterest ingredients in his
cup during his long affliction, to be cut off
from their society. When in the neighbor-
hood of Plymouth, he thus writes to Mr.
King, one of the deacons — "Give my love to
all the dear people. O pray that he who
afflicts would give me patience to endure.
Indeed, the state of suspense in which 1
have been kept so long, requires much
of it ; and I often exclaim, ere I am aware,
O my dear people ! O my dear family,
when shall I return to you again !" He con-
scientiously dissented from the Church of
England, and from every other national es-
tablishment of religion, as inconsistent
with what he judged the scriptural account
of the nature of Christ's kingdom ; nor
was he less conscientious in his rejection of
infant baptism, considering it as having no
foundation in the holy scriptures, and as
tending to confound the church and the
world ; yet he embraced with brotherly af-
fection great numbers of godly men both in
and out of the establishment. His spirit
was truly catholic : he loved all who loved
our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. " Let
us pray," said he in a letter to a friend,
" for the peace of Jerusalem : they shall
prosper who love — not this part, or the oth-
er, but who love — her — that is, the whole
body of Christ."

He bare good will to all mankind. It
was from this principle that he so ardently
desired to go and preach the gospel to the
heathen. And even under his long afflic-
tion, when at times he entertained hopes of
recovery, he would say, " My soul pants for
usefulness more extensive than ever : 1 long
to become an apostle to the world !" The
errors and sins of men wrought much in
him in a way of pity. He knew that they
were culpable in the sight of God : but he
knew also that he himself was a sinner, and
felt that they were entitled to his compas-
sion. His zeal for the divinity and atone-
ment of his Saviour, never appeared to
have operated in a way of unchristian bit-
terness against those who rejected these im-
portant doctrines ; and though he was
shamefully traduced by professors of anoth-
er description as a mere legal preacher, and
his ministry lu^ld up as affording no food for
the souls of believers, and could not but feel)

MEMOIRS OF PEA.RCE,

387

the injury of such misrepresentations ; yet
he does not appear to have cherished un-
christian resentment ; but would at any time
have laid himself out for the good of his
worst enemies. It was his constant endeav-
or to promote as good an understanding
between the different congregations in the
town as the nature of their different reli-
gious sentiments would admit. The cruel
bitterness of many people against Dr. Priest-
ley and his friends, at and after the Bir-
mingham riots, was affecting to his mind.
Such methods of opposing error he abhor-
red. His regard to mankind made him la-
ment the consequences of war : but while
he wished and prayed for peace to the na-
tions, and especially to his native country,
he had no idea of turbulently contending for
it. Though friendly to civil and religious
liberty, he stood aloof from the fire of po-
litical contention. In an excellent circular
letter to the churches of the Midland associa-
tion in 1794, of which he was the writer, he
thus expresses himself: " Have as little as
possible to do with the world. Meddle not
with political controversies. An inordinate
pursuit of these, we are sorry to observe,
has been as a canker-worm at the root of"
vital piety ; and caused the love of many,
formerly zealous professors, to wax cold.
The Lord reigneth, it is our place to rejoice
in his government, and quietly wait for the
salvation of God. The establishment of his
kingdom will be the ultimate end of all
those national commotions which terrify the
earth. The wrath of man shall praise him,
and the remainder of wrath he will re-
strain." If he could write in this manner
in 1794, his seeing a hopeful undertaking,
in which he Jiad taken a more than common
interest, blasted by this species of folly in
1796, would not lessen his aversion to it.
From this time more than ever he turned
his whole attention to the promoting of the
kingdom of Christ, cherishing and recom-
mending a spirit of contentment and grati-
tude for the civil and religious advantages
that we enjoyed. Such were the senti-
ments inculcated in the last sermon that he
printed, and the last but one that he preach-
ed. (See Note at page 373.) His dear
young friends who are gone to India will
never forget how earnestly he charged them
by letter, when confined at Plymouth, to
conduct themselves in all civil matters as
peaceable and obedient subjects to the
government under which they lived, in
whatever country it might be their lot to
reside.

It V)as love that tempered his faithfulness
with so large aportion of tender concern for
the good of those whose condiict he was
obliged to censure. He could not bear tliem
that were evil, but would set himself against
diem with the greatest firmness ; yet it was

easy to discover the pain of mind with which
this necessary part of duty was discharged.
It is well remembered how he conducted
himself towards certain preachers, in the
neighborhood, who, wandering from place
to place, corrupted and em.broiled the
churches ; whose conduct he knew to be as
dishonorable as their principles were loose
and unscriptural : and when requested to
recite particulars in his own defence, his
fear and tenderness for character, his mo-
dest reluctance to accuse persons older than
himself; and his deep concern that men en-
gaged in the Christian ministry, should ren-
der such accusations necessary, were each
conspicuous, and proved to all present, that
the work of an accuser was to him a strange
work.

It was love that expanded his heart, and
prompted him. to labor in season and out
of season for the salvation of sinners. This
was the spring of that constant stream of
activity by which his life was distinguished-
His conscience would not sufier him to de-
cline what appeared to be right. " I dare
not refuse," he would say, '■ lest I should
shrink from duty. Unjustifiable ease is
worse than the most difficult labors to which
duty calls." To persons who never enter-
ed into his views and feelings, some parts
of his conduct, especially those which relate
to his desire of quitting his country that he
might preach the gospel to the heathen,
Avill appear extravagant: but no man could
with greater propriety have adopted the
language of the apostle. Whether we be be-
side ourselves, it is to God ; or whether we
be sober it is for your cause ; for the love
of Christ constraineth us.

He was frequently told that his exercises
were too great for his strength ; but such
was the ardor of his heart, " He could not
die in a better work." When he went up
into the pulpit to deliver his last sermon, he
thought he should not have been able to
get through, but wlien he got a little warm,
he felt relieved, and forgot his indisposition,
preaching with equal fervor and freedom as
when in perfect health. While he was laid
aside, he could not forbear hoping that he
should some time resume his delightful
work ; and knowing the strength of his feel-
ings to be such that it would be unsafe to
trust himself, he proposed for a time to write
his discourses, that his mind might not be
at liberty to overdo his debilitated frame.

All his counsels, cautions, and reproofs,
appear to have been the effect of love. It
was a rule dictated by his heart, no less
than by his judgment, to discourage ali
evil speaking : nor would he approve of just
censure unless some good and necessary
end were to be answered by it. Two of
his distant friends being at his house to-
gether, one of them, during the absence of

388

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

the other, suggested something to his dis
advantage. He put a stop to the conversa
tion by answering. " He is here, take him
aside and tell him of it by himself: you may
do him good."

If he perceived any of his acquaintance
bewildered in fruitless speculations, he
would in an affectionate manner endeavor
to draw off their attention from these mazes
of confusion to the simple doctrine of the
cross. A specimen of this kind of treatment
will be seen in the letter, No. I. towards the
close of this chapter.

He was affectionate to all, but especially
towards the rising generation. The youth
of his own congregation, of London and of
Dublin, have not tbrgotten his melting dis-
courses which were particularly addressed
to them. He took much delight in speak-
ing to the children, and would adapt him-
self to their capacities, and expostulate with
them on the things which belonged to their
everlasting peace. While at Plymouth he
wrote thus to one of his friends, " O how
should I rejoice were there a speedy pros-
pect of my returning to my great and little
congregations." Nor was it by preaching
only that he sought their eternal welfare :
several of his letters are addressed to young
persons. — See Nos. II. and III. towards the
close of this chapter.

With what joy did he congratulate one
cf his most intimate friends, on hearing that
three of the younger branches of his family
had apparently been brought to take the
Redeemer's yoke upon them. " Thanks,
thanks, thanks be to God," said he, "for the
enrapturing prospects betbre you as a fa-
ther, as a Christian father especially.
What, three of a family ! and these three at
once ! O the heights, and depths, and
lengths, and breadths, of his unfathomable
grace. My soul feels joy unspeakable at
the blessed news. Three immortal souls
secured for eternal life ! Three rational
spirits preparing to grace Immanuel's tri-
umphs, and sing his praise ! Three ex-
amples of virtue and goodness ; exhibiting
the genuine influences of the true religion
cf Jesus before the Avorld — Perhaps three
mothers training up to lead three future
families in the way to heaven. O what a
train of blessings do I see in this event!
Most sincerely do I participate with my
dear friend, in his pleasures and in his grati-
tude."

Towards the close of life, writing to the
same friend, he thus concludes his letter:
"Present our love to dear Mrs. S. and the
family, especially those whose hearts are en-
gaged to seek the Lord and his goodnes^s.
O tell them they will find him good all ihoir
lives, supremely good on dying beds, but
best of all in glory."

• In his visits to the sick he was singularly
useful. His sympathetic conversation, af-
fectionate prayers, and endearing manner
of recommending to them a compassionate
Saviour, frequently operated as a cordial to
their troubled hearts. A young man of his
congregation was dangerously ill. His fa-
ther, living at a distance, was anxious to
hear from him ; and Mr. Pearce, in a h-tter
to the minister on whose preaching the fa-
ther attended, wrote as follows: "I feel for
the anxiety of Mr. V. and am happy in be-
ing at this time a Barnabas to him. I was
not seriously alarmed for his son till last
Tuesday, when I expected from every
symptom, and the language of his apothe-
cary, that he was nigh unto death. I3ut to
our astonishment and joy, a surprising
change has since taken place. 1 saw hira
yesterday apparently in a fair way for re-
covery. His mind for the first part of his
illness, was sometimes joyful, and almost
constantly calm ; but when at the worst,
suspicions crowded his mind ; he feared he
had been a hypocrite. I talked, and pray-
ed, and wept with him. One scene was
very affecting both he and his wife appear-
ed like persons newly awakened. They
never felt so strongly the importance of re-
ligion before. He conversed about the ten-
derness of Jesus to broken-hearted sinners ;
and whilst we spoke, it seemed as though
he came and began to heal the wound. It did
me good, and I trust was not unavailing to
them. They have since been for the most
part happy ; and a very pleasant interview
I had with them on the past day."

Every man must have hia seasons of re-
laxation. In his earlier years he would
take strong bodily exercise. Of late, he oc-
casionally employed himself with the micro-
scope and in making a few philosophical ex-
periments. " We will amuse ourselves with
philosophy," said he to a philosophical friend
"but Jesusshallbe our teacher." In ail these
exercises he seems never to have lost sight of
God ; but would be discovering something
in his works that should furnish matter for
praise and admiration. His mind did not
appear to have been unfitted, but rather as-
sisted, by such pursuits for the discharge of
the more spiritual exercises, into which he
would f;\ll at a proper season, as into his
native element. If in company with friends,
and the conversation turned upon the works
of nature, or art, or any other .subject of
.science, he would cheerfully take a part in
it, and when occasion required, by some
easy and pleasant transition, direct it into
another channel. An ingenious friend
once showed him a model of a machine
which he thought of constructing, and by
which he hoped to be able to produce a
perpetual motion. Mr. Pearce having pa-

MEMOIRS OP PEARCE,

389

tiently inspected it, discovered where the
operation would stop, and pointed it out.
His friend was convinced, and felt, as may
be supposed, rather unpleasant at his dis-
appointment. He consoled him ; and a
prayer-meeting being at hand, said to this
effect, " We may learn from hence our
own insufficiency, and the glory of that
Being, who is wonderful in counsel^ and ex-
cellent in working : let us go and worship
him."

His mild and gentle disposition, not apt
to give or take offence, often won upon per-
sons in matters wherein at first they have
shown themselves averse. When collecting
for the Baptist mission, a gentleman who
had no knowledge of him, or of the con-
ductors of that undertaking, made some ob-
jections, on the ground that the Baptists
had little or nothing to say to the uncon-
verted. This objection Mr. Pearce attempt-
ed to remove, by alleging that the parties
concerned in this business were entirely of
another mind. I am glad to hear it, said
the gentleman, but I have my fears. Then
pray, sir, said Mr. Pearce, do not give till
you are satisfied. Why, I assure you, re-
plied the other, I think the Methodists more
likely to succeed than you ; and should feel
more pleasure in giving them ten guineas
than you one. If you give them twenty
guineas, sir, said Mr. Pearce we shall rejoice
in their success ; and if you give us one, I
hope it will not be misapplied. The gentle-
man smiled, and gave him four.

His figure to a superficial observer would
at first sight convey nothing very interest-
ing; but on close inspection, his counte-
nance would be acknowledged lo be a faith-
ful index to his soul. Calm, placid, and
when in the pulpit especially, full of anima-
tion, his appearance was not a little expres-
sive of the interest he felt in the eternal
welfare of his audience ; his eyes beaming
benignity, and speaking in the most impres-
eive language his Avillingness to impart, not
only ike gospel of God, bzU his oicn soul
also.

His imagination was vivid, and his judg-
ment clear ; he relished the elegancies of
science, and felt alive to the most delicate
and refined sentiments ; yet these were
thmgs on account of which he does not ap-
pear to have valued himself They were
rather his amusements than his employ-
ment.

His address was easy and insinuating;
his voice pleasant, but sometimes overstrain-
ed in the course of his sermon ; his lan-
guage chaste, flowing, and inclining to the
florid : this last, however, abated as his
judgment ripened. His delivery Avas rather
slow than rapid ; his attitude graceful, and
his countenance in almost all his discourses

approaching to an affectionate smile. He
never appears, however, to have studied
what are called the graces of pulpit action ;
or, whatever he had read concerning them,
it was manifest that he thought nothing of
them, or of any other of the ornaments of
speech, at the time. Both his action and
language were the genuine expressions of
an ardent mind, affected, and sometimes
deeply, Avith his subject. Being rather be-
low the common stature, and disregarding,
or rather, I might say, disapproving every
thing pompous in his appearance, he has on
some occasions been prejudged to his dis-
advantage : but the song of the nightin-
gale is not the less melodious for his not
appearing in a gaudy plumage. His man-
ner of preparing for the pulpit may be seen

in a letter addressed to Mr. C , of

L , who was sent out of his church:

and which may be of use to others in a simi-
lar situation. See No. IV. towards the
close of this chapter.

His ministry was highly acceptable to
persons of education : liut he appears to
have been most in his element when preach-
ing to the poor. The feelings which he
himself expresses when instructing the col-
liers, appear to have continued with him
through life. It was his delight to carry the
glad tidings of salvation into the villages
wherever he could find access and opportu-
nity. And as he sought the good of their
souls, so he both labored and suffered to re-
lieve their temporal wants ; living himself
in a style of frugality and self-denial, that
he might have whereof to give to them that
needed.

Finally, he possessed a large portion of
real happiness. There are few characters
whose enjoyments, both natural and spiritu-
al, have risen to so great a height. He
dwelt in love : and he that dwelleth in love,
dwelleth in God., and God in him. Such a
life must needs be happy. If his religion
had originated and terminated in self-love,
as some contend the whole of religion does,
his joys had been not only of a different na-
ture, but far less extensive than they were.
His interest was bound up with that of his
Lord and Saviour. Its afflictions were his
affliciion, and its joys his joy. The grand
object of his desire was, to see the good of
God^s chosen, to rejoice in the gladness of
his nation, and to glory with his inheritance.
" What pleasures do those lose," says he,
" who have no interest in God's gracious
and holy cause !"*

If an object of joy presented itself to his
mind, he would delight in multiplying it by
its probable or possible consequences.
Thus it was, as we have seen, in his con-

See ihe Letter to Dr. Ry land, May 30, 1796, p. 359.

390

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE,

gratulating his friend on the conversion of
three of his children ; and thus it was when
speaking of a people who divided into two
congregations, not from discord, but from
an increase of numbers ; and who generous-
ly united in erecting a new and additional
place of worship. " These liberal souls
are subscribing,'' said he, '"in order to sup-
port a religion, which, as far as it truly pre-
vails, will render others as liberal as them-
selves."

His heai't was so much formed for social
enjoyment that he seems to have contem-
plated the heavenly state under this idea
with peculiar advantage. This was the
leading theme of a discourse from Rev. v.
9 — 12, which he delivered at a meeting of
ministers at Arnsby, April IS, 1797 ; and of
which his brethren retain a lively remem-
brance. On this pleasing subject he dwells
also in a letter to his dear friend Birt. " I
had much pleasure a few days since, in
meditating on the affectionate language of
our Lord to his sorrowful disciples ; I go to
prepare a place for you. What a plenti-
tude of consolation do these words contain ;
what a sweet view of heaven as a place of
society. It is one place for us all : that
place where his glorified body is, there all
his followers shall assemble, to part no more.
Where he is, there we shall be also. Oh
blessed anticipation ! There shall be Abel,
and all the martyrs ; Abraham, and all the
patriarchs ; Isaiah and all the prophets ;
Paul, and all the apostles ; Gabriel, and all
the angels ; and above all, Jesus, and all
his ransomed people ! Oh to be amongst
the number ! My dear brother, let us be
strong in the Lord. Let us realize the bliss
before us. Let our faith bring heaven it-
self near, and feast, and live upon the scene
Oh what a commanding influence would it
have upon our thoughts, passions, comforts,
sorrows, words, ministry, prayers, praises,
and conduct. What manner of persons
should we be in all holy conversation and
godliness !"

In many persons, the pleasures imparted
by religion are counteracted by a gloomy
constitution : but it was not so in him. In
his disposition they met with a friendly soil.
Cheerfulness was as natural to him as
breathing ; and this spirit, sanctified by the
grace of God, gave a tincture to all his
thoughts, conversation, and preaching. He
was seldom heard without tears ; l)ut they
were frequently tears of pleasure. No levi-
ty, no attempts at wit, no aiming to excite
the risibility of an audience, ever disgraced
his sermons. Religion in him was habitual
seriousness, mingled with sacred pleasure,
frequently rising into sublime delight, and
occasionally overflowing with transporting
joy.

LETTERS REFERRED TO IN THIS
CHAPTER.

To a young man whose mind he perceived was bewild-
ered with fruitless speculations.

" The conversation we had on our way
to , so far interested me in your reli-
gious feelings, that I find it impossible to
satisfy my mind, till I have expressed my
ardent wishes for the happy termination of
your late exercises, and contributed my
mite to the promotion of your joy in the
Lord. A disposition more or less to " skep-
ticism" I believe is common to our nature,
in proportion as opposite systems, and jar-
ring opinions, each supported by a plausi-
bility of argument, are presented to our
minds ; and with some qualification I admit
Robinson's remark, "that he who never
doubted, never believed." While examin-
ing the grounds of persuasion, it is right
for the mind to hesitate. Opinions ought
not to be prejudged any more than crimi-
nals. Every objection ought to have its
weight ; and the more numerous and for-
cible objections are, the more cause shall
we finally have for the triumph : ' Manga
est Veritas et prevalebit ; but there are two
or three considerations, which have no small
weight with me in relation to religious con-
troversies.

" The first is, the importance of truth.
It would be endless to write on truth in
general. I confine my views to what I
deem the leading truth in the New Testa-
ment : The atonement made on behalf of
sinners by the Son of God ; the doctrine of
the cross ; Jesus Christ and him crucified.
It surely cannot be a m.atter of small con-
cern whether the Creator of all things, out
of mere love to rebellious men, exchanged
a throne for a cross, and thereby recon-
ciled a ruined world to God, If this be not
true, how can we respect the bible as an
inspired book, which so plainly attributes
our salvation to the grace of God, through
the redemption which is in Christ Jesus ?
And if we discard the bible, what can we
do with prophecies, miracles, and all the
power of evidence, on which, as on ada-
mantine pillars, its authority abides ! Sure-
ly the infidel has more to reject than the
believer to embrace. That book, then,
which we receive, not as the word of man,
but as the word of God, not as the religion of
our ancestors, but on the invincible convic-
tion which attends an impartial investiga-
tion of its evidences ; that book reveals a
truth of the highest importance to man,
consonant to the opinions of the earliest
ages, and the most enlightened nations,
perfectly consistent with the Jewish econo-
my, as to its spirit and design, altogether

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

391

adapted to unite the equitable and merciful
perfections of the Deity in the sinner's sal-
vation, and above all things calculated to
beget the most established peace, to inspire
with the liveliest hope, and to engage the
heart and life in habitual devotedness to
the interest of morality and piety. Such
a doctrine I cannot but venerate ; and to
the Autlior of such a doctrine, my whole
soul labors to exhaust itself in praise.

" ' Oh the sweet wonders of the cross,
Where God my Saviour, lov'd and died !'

Forgive, my friend, forgive the transport
of a soul compelled to feel where it attempts
only to explore. I cannot on this subject
control my passions by the laws of logic.
God forbid that I should glory, save in the
cross of Christ Jesus my Lord.

" Secondly, I consider man as a depra-
ved creature ; so depraved, that his judg-
ment is as dark as his appetites are sensu-
al : wholly dependent therelbre on God for
religious light, as well as true devotion ;
yet such a dupe to pride, as to reject every
thing, which the narrow limits of his com-
prehension cannot embrace ; and such a
slave to his passions as to admit no law but
self-interest for his government. With
these views of human nature, I am persua-
ded we ought to suspect our own decisions
whenever they oppose truths too sublime
for our understandings, or too pure for our
lusts. ' To err' on this side, indeed, 'is hu-
man ;' wherefore the wise man saith, ' He
that trusteth to his own heart is a fool.'
Should, therefore, the evidence be only
equal on the one side of the gospel of
Christ, I should think, with this allowance,
we should do well to admit it.

" Thirdly, if the gospel of Christ be true,
it should be heartily embraced. We should
yield ourselves to its influence without re-
serve. We must come to a point, and re-
solve to be either infidels or Christians.
To know the power of the sun, we should
expose ourselves to his rays ; to know the
sweetness of honey, we must bring it to our
palates. Speculations will not do in either
of these cases ; much less will it in matters
of religion. My son, saith God, give me
thine heart.

" Fourthly, an humble admission of the
light we already have, is the most efl'ectual
way to a full conviction of the truth of the
doctrine of Christ. If any man will do his
will, he shall know of his doctrine whether
it be of God. If we honor God as far as
we know his will, he will honor us with
further discoveries of it. Thus shall we
know, if we follow on to know the Lord ;
thus, thus shall you, my dear friend, be-
come assured that there is salvation in no
other name than that of Jesus Christ ; and
thus from an inward experience of the
quickening influences of his Holy Spirit,

you will join the admiring church, and say
of Jesus, ' This is my beloved, this is my
friend ; he is the chiefest among ten thou-
sand, he is altogether lovely.' Yes, I yet
hope, I expect to see you rejoicing in Christ
Jesus ; and appearing as a living witness
that he is faithful who hath said, ' Seek and
ye shall find ; ask and receive, that your
joy may be full.' S. P."

In another letter to the same correspon-
dent, after congratulating himself that he
had discovered such a mode of killing nox-
ious insects as should put them to the least
pain, and which was characteristic of the
tenderness of his heart, he proceeds as fol-
lows: "But enough of nature : how is my
brother as a Christian? We have had
some interesting moments in conversation
on the methods of grace, that grace whose
influence reaches to the day of adversity,
and the hour of death ; seasons when, of
every thing beside it may be said, Misera-
ble comforters are they all ! My dear
friend, we will amuse ourselves with phi-
losophy, but Christ shall be our teacher ;
Christ shall be our glory ; Christ shall be
our portion. Oh that we may be enabled
' to comprehend the heights, and depths,
andlengths, and breadths, and to know the
love of Christ which passeth knowledge !'

" Affectionately yours, S. P."

NO. II.

To a young gentleman of his acquaintance, who was
then studying physic at Edinburgh.

" Did my dear friend P-

- know with
what sincere affection, and serious concern,
I almost daily think of him, he would need
no other evidence of the effect which his
last visit, and his subsequent letters have
produced. Indeed there is not a young
man in the world, in earlier life than my-
self, for whose universal prosperity I am so
deeply interested. Many circumstances I
can trace, on a review of the past fourteen
years, which have contributed to beget and
augment affection and esteem : and I can
assure you that every interview, and every
letter, still tend to consolidate my regard.

" Happy should I be, if my abihty to
serve you at this important crisis of human
life were equal to your wishes or my own.
Your situation demands all the aid, which
the wisdom and prudence of your friends
can afford, that you may be directed not
only to the most worthy objects of pursuit,
but also to the most effectual means for ob-
taining them. In your professional char-
acter it is impossible for me to give you any
assistance. If any general observations I
can make should prove at all useful, I shall
be richly rewarded for the time I employ
in their communicaLion.

" I thank you sincere!}' for the freedom

392

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

wherewith you have disclosed the peculi-
arities of your situation, and the views and
resolutions wherewith they have inspired
you. I can recommend nothing better, my
dear friend, than a determined adherence
to the purposes you have already ibrmed,
respecting the intimacies you contract, and
the societies you choose. In such a place
as Edinburgh, it may be supposed, no de-
scription of persons will be wanting. Some
so notoriously vicious, that their atrocity of
character will have no small tendency to
confirm your morals, from the odious con-
trast which their practices present to your
view. Against these, therefore, I need not
caution you. You will flee them as so many
serpents, in whose breath is venom and de-
struction. More danger may be appre-
hended from those mixed characters, who
blend the profession of philosophical re-
finement with the secret indulgence of those
sensual gratifications, which at once ex-
haust the pocket, destroy the health, and
debase the character.

" That morality is friendly to individual
happiness, and to social order, no man, who
respects his own conscience or character,
will have the effrontery to deny. Its avenues
cannot, therefore, be too sacredly guarded,
nor those principles which support a virtu-
ous practice be too seriously maintained.
But morality derives, it is true, its best, its
only support, from the principles of religion.
' The fear of the Lord (said the wise man)
is to hate evil.' He, therefore, who endea-
vors to weaken the sanctions of religion, to
induce a skeptical habit, to detach my
thoughts from axi ever present God,, and my
hopes from a futurity of holy enjoyment,
HE is a worse enemy than the man that
meets me with a pistol and the dagger.
Should my dear friend, then, fall into the
company ol' those, whose friendship cannot
be purchased but by the sacrifice of Reve-
lation, I hope he will ever think such a
price too great for the good opinion of men
who blaspheme pieiy, and dishonor God.
Deism is indeed the fashion of the day;
and to be in the mode, you must quit the
good old path of devotion as too antiquated
for any but monks and hermits ; so as you
laugh at religion, that is enough to secure
to you the company, and the applause of
the sons of politeness. Oh that God may
be a buckler and a shield to defend you
from their assaults ! Let but their priva'te
morals !)e incjnired into, and it" they may
have a hearioL', I dare engage they will not
bear a favorable testimony to (he good ten-
dency of skepticism ; and it may be re-
garded as an indisputable axiom. That what
is unfriendly to virtue is unfriendly to man.

" Were I to argue a posteriori in favor
of trutli, I should contend that those prin-
ciples must be true, which (first) corres-

ponded with general observation ; (second-
ly) tended to general happiness; (thirdly)
preserved a uniform connection between
cause and ellect, evil and remedy, in all sit-
uations.

" I would then apply these data to the
principles held, on the one side, by the de-
ists ; and on the other by the believers in
revelation. In the application of the first,
I would refer to the state of human nature.
The deist contends for its purity and pow-
ers. Revelation declares its depravity and
weakness. I compare these opposite dec-
larations with the facts that fall under con-
stant observation. Do I not see that there
is a larger portion of vice in the world, than
of virtue : that no man needs solicitation to
evil, but every man a guard against it ; and.
that thousands bewail their subjection to
lusts, which they have not power to subdue,
whilst they live in moral slavery, and can-
not burst the chain ? Which principle then
shall I admit? Will observation counte-
nance the deistical 7 I am convinced to the
contrary, and must say I cannot be a deist
without becoming a fool ; and to exalt my
reason, I must deny my senses.

'' I take the second datum, and inquire,
which tends most to general happiness ?
To secure happiness, three things are ne-
cessary: object, means, and moit'yes. The
question is, Which points out the true
so!«rce of happiness ; which directs to the
best means for attaining it; and which fur-
nishes me with the most powerful motives
to induce my pursuit of it? If I take a de-
ist for my tutor, he tells me that fame is
the object; universal accommodation of
manners to interest, the means ; and self-
love the spring of action. Sordid teacher !
From him I iwrnio Jesus. His better voice
informs me, that the source of ielicity is the
friendsJiip of my God; that love to my Ma-
ker, and love to man, expressed in all the
noble and amiable effusions of devotion and
benevolence, are the means; and that the
glory of God, and the happiness of the imi-
verse, must be my motives. Blessed In-
siructer, thy dictates approve themselves
to every illuminated conscience, to every
pious heart ! Do they not, my dear
P — , approve themselves to yours ?

" Bui I will not tire your patience by pur-
suing these remarks. " Little did I think of
such amplification when I first took up my
pen. Oh that I may have the joy of find-
ing that these (at least well meant) endea-
vors to establish your piety have not been
ungraciously received, nor wholly unprofi-
table to your mind !.. I am encouraged to
these effusions of friendship by that amia-
ble self-distrust, which your letter expres-
ses ; a temper not only becoming the ear-
lier stages of life, but graceful in all its ad-
vancing periods.

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE,

393

" Unspeakable satisfaction does it afford
me to find that you are conscious of the ne-
cessity of ' first' seeking assistance from
Heaven. Retain, my dear friend, this hon-
orable, this equitable sentiment. In all thy
ways acknowledge God, and he shall di-
rect thy paths.'

" I hope you will still be cautious in your
intimacies. You will gain more by a half-
hour's intercourse with God, than the
friendship of the whole college can impart.
Too much acquaintance would be follow-
ed with a waste of that precious time, on
the present improvement of which, your
future usefulness and respectability in your
profession depend. Like the bee, you may
do best by sipping the sweets of every
flower ; but remember, the sweetest blos-
som is not the hive.

" Yours very affectionately, S. P."

" P. S. So many books have been pub
lished on the same subject as the manu
script you helped me to copy, that I have
not sent it to the press.*"

To a yr)ung lady at school Miss A. H. a daughter of one
ol Ihe members of his church.

" I cannot deny myself the pleasure which
this opportunity affords me, of expressing
the concern I feel for your happiness, ari-
sing from the sincerest friendship ; a friend-
ship, which the many amiable qualities you
possess together with the innumerable op-
portunities 1 have had of seeing them dis-
played, have taught me to ibrm and perpet-
uate.

" It affords me inexpressible pleasure to
hear, that you are so happy in your pres-
ent situation : a situation in which I rejoice
to see you placed, because it is not merely
calculated to embellish the manners, but to
profit the soul. I hope that my dear Ann,
amidst the various pursuits of an ornament-
al or scientific nature, which she may adopt,
will not omit that first, that great concern,
the dedication of her heart to God. To
this, my dear girl, every thing invites you
that is worthy of your attention. The dig-
nity of a rational and immortal soul, the
condition of human nature, the gracious
truths and promises of God, the sweetness
and usefulness of religion, the comfort it
yields in afiiiction, the security it affords in
lemptation, the supports it gives in death,
and the prospects it opens of life everlast-
ing ; all these considerations, backed with
the uncertainty of life, the solemnity of

The Conipiler beheves this was an answer to Mr
Peter Edwards' Candid Reasons, &c. He knows Jlr.
Pearce did write an answer to that performance. By
the eflTronlery of the writer he lias acknowledged lie was
at first a Uttle stunned ; but upon examining his argu- 1
iiients, found it no very difficult undertaking to point ou! I
their fallacy. |

Vol. 2.— Xx.

judgment, the terrors of hell, and the calls
of conscience and of God, all demand youf
heart for the blessed Jehovah. This, and
nothing short of this, is true religion. You
have often heard, and often loritten on re-
ligion : it is time you should feel it now.
Oh what a blessedness will attend your
hearty surrender of yourself to the God
and Father of men ! Meihinks I see all the
angels of God rejoicing at the sight, all the
saints in heaven partaking of their joy ; Je-
sus himself, who died for sinners, gazing on
you with delight ; your own heart filled
with peace and joy in beheving ; and a
thousand streams of goodness flowing from
your renovated soul to refresh the aged
saint, and to encourage your fellow youth
to seek first the kingdom of heaven, and
press on to God. But Oh, should I be mis-
taken I Alas, alas, I cannot bear the
thought. Oh thou Saviour of sinners, and
God of love ! take captive the heart of my
dear young friend, and make her truly wil-
ling to be wholly thine !

" If you can find freedom, do oblige me
with a letter on the state of religion in your
own soul, and be assured of every sympa-
thy or advice that I am capable of feeling
or giving. Aifectionately yours, S. P."

-, of L-

, on prepara-

To a young Minister, Mr. C-
tion for the pulpit.

"My dear Brother,

" Your first letter gave me much pleas-
ure. I hoped you would learn some use-
ful lesson from the first Sabbath's disap-
pointment. Every thing is good that leads
us to depend more simply on the Lord.
Could I choose my frames, I would say re-
specting industry in preparation for public
work, as is frequently said respecting Chris-
tian obedience ; I would apply as close as
though I expected no help from the Lord,
whilst I would depend on the Lord for as-
sistance, as thouga I had never made any
preparation at all.

" I rejoice much in every thing that af-
fords you ground for solid pleasure. The
account of the affection borne you by tlxe
people of God, was therefore a matter of
joy to my heart, especially as I learnt from
the person who brought your letter, that
the friendship seemed pretty general.

•'Your last has occasioned me some pain
on your account, because it informs me that
you have been ' exceeding tried in the pul-
pit :' but I receive satisfaction again from
considering, that the gloom of midnight
precedes the rising day, not only in the
natural world, but frequently also in the
Christian minister's experience. Do not
be discouraged, my dear brother : those
whose labors God has been pleased most
eminently to bless, have generally had their

394

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE,

days of prosperity ushered in with clouds
and storms. You are in the sieve ; but the
sieve is in our Saviour's hands ; and he
will not suffer any thing but the chaff to
fall through, let him winnow us as often as
he may. No one at times, I think I may
say, has been worse tried than myself, in
the same manner as you express ; though
I must be thankful it has not been often.

" You ask direction of me, my dear
brother. lam too inexperienced myself to
be capable of directing others ; yet if the
little time I have been employed for God
has furnished with me any thing worthy of
communication, it will be imparted to no
one with more readiness than to you.

" I should advise you when you have
been distressed by hesitation, to reflect
whether it arose from an inability to recol-
lect your ideas, or to obtain words suited to
convey them. If the former, I think these
two directions may be serviceable ; First,
Endeavor to think in a train. Let one idea
depend upon another in your discourses,
as one link does upon another in a chain.
For this end I have found it necessary to
arrange my subjects in the order of time.
Thus, for instance, — If speaking of the
promises, I would begin with those which
were suited to the earliest inquiries of a
convinced soul ; as, pardon, assistance in
prayer, wisdom, &c. ; then go to those parts
of Christian experience which are usually
subsequent to the former ; as, promises of
support in afflictions, deliverance from
temptations, and perseverance in grace ;
closing with a review of those which speak
of support in death, and final glory. Then
all the varieties of description respecting
the glory of heaven will follow in natural
order; as, the enlargement of the under-
standing, purification of the affections, in-
tercourse with saints, angels and Christ
himself, which will be eternal; thus begin-
ning with the lowest marks of grace, and
ascending step by step, you at last arrive
in the fruition of faith. This mode is most
natural, and most pleasing to the hearers,
as well as assisting to the preacher : for
one idea gives birth to another, and he can
hardly help going forward regularly and
easily.

" Secondly, Labor to render your ideas
transparent to yourself. Never off'er to in-
troduce a thought, which you cannot see
through before you enter the pulpit. You
have read in Claude, that the best prepa-
rative to preach from a subject, is to un-
derstand it : and I think bishop Burnet says,
'No man properly understands any thing,
who cannot at any time represent it to oth-
ers.'

" If your hesitation proceeds from a want
of words, I should advise you, 1. To read
good and easy authors; Dr. Watts especi-

ally. 2. To write a great part of your ser-
mons, and lor a while get at least the lead-
ing ideas of every head of discourse by
heart, enlarging only at the close of every
thought. 3. Sometimes, as in the end of
sermons, or when you preach in villages,
start off" in preaching beyond all you have
premeditated. Fasten on some leading
ideas ; as the solemnity of death, the aw-
fulness of judgment, the necessity of a
change of heart, the willingness of Christ
to save, &c. Never mind how far you ram-
ble from the point, so as you do not lose
sight of it ; and if your heart be any way
warm, you will find some expressions then
fall from your lips, which your imagination
could not produce in an age of studious ap-
plication. 4. Divest yourself of all fear.
If you should break the rules of grammar,
or put in, or leave out a word, and recol-
lect at the end of the sentence the impro-
priety ; unless it makes nonsense, or bad
divinity, never try to mend it, but let it pass.
If so perhaps, only a few would notice it ;
but if you stammer in trying to mend it,
you will expose yourself to all the congre-
gation.

"In addition to all I have said, you know
where to look, and from whom to seek that
wisdom and strength which only God can
give. To him I recommend you, my dear
brother, assuring you of my real esteem for
you, and requesting you will not fail to pray
for the least of saints, but yours affection-
ately, S. P."

CONCLUDING REFLECTIONS.

The great ends of christian Biography
are instruction and example, by faithfully
describing the lives of men eminent for
goodness, we not only embalm their mem-
ory, but furnish ourselves with fresh ma-
terials and motives for a holy life. It is
abundantly more impressive to view the re-
ligion of Jesus as operating in a living char-
acter, then to contemplate it abstractedly^
For this reason, we may suppose the Lord
the Spirit has condescended to exhibit it
first and principally the life of Christ; and
after his, that of many of his eminent fol-
lowers. And for this reason, he by his ho-
ly influences still furnishes the church
with now and then a singular example of
godliness, which it is our duty to notice and
record. There can be no reasonable doubt
that the life of Mr. Pearce ought to be con-
sidered as one of these examples. May that,
same divine Spirit who had manifestly so
great a hand in forming his character,
teach us to derive from it both instruction
and edification !

First : In him we may see the holy efjicacy

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE,

395

and by consequence^ the truth of the Chris-
tian religion. — It was long since asked-
Who is he that overcomefh the world., but he,
wlw believeth that Jesus is the Son of God ?
This question contained a challenge to men
of all religions, who were then upon the
earth. Idolatry had a great diversity of
species: every nation worshipping its own
gods, and in modes peculiar to themselves :
philosophers also were divided into numer-
ous sects, each flattering itself that it had
found the truth : even the Jews had their
divisions ; their Pharisees, Sadusees, and
Essenes : but great as many of them were
in deeds of divers kinds, an apostle could
look them all in the face, and ask, Who is
he that overcometh the world 7 The same
question might be safely asked in every
succeeding age. The various kinds of re-
ligion that still prevail ; the pagan, maho-
metan, Jewish, papal, or prolestant may
form the exteriors of man according to their
respective models ; but where is the man
amongst them, save the true believer in
Jesus, that overcometh the world? Men
may cease from particular evils, and as-
sume a very diflerent character ; may lay
aside their drunkenness, blasphemies, or
debaucheries, and take up with a kind of
monkish austerity, and yet all amount to
nothing more than an exchange of vices.
The lusts of the flesh will on many occa-
sions give place to those of the mind ; but
to overcome the world is another thing. By
embracing the doctrines of the cross ; to
feel not merely a dread of the consequen-
ces of sin, but a holy abhorrence of its na-
ture ; and by conversing with invisible re-
alities, to become regardless of the best,
and fearless of the worst, that this world
has to dispense ; this is the eflect of genu-
ine Christianity, and this a standing proof
of its divine original. Let the most invet-
erate enemy of revelation have witnessed the
disinterested benevolence of a Paul, a Pe-
ter, or a John, and whether he would own
it or not, his conscience must have borne
testimony that this is true religion. The
same may be said of Samuel Pearce :
whether the doctrine he preached found a
place in the hearts of his hearers or not,
his spirit and life must have approved itself
to their consciences.

Secondly : In him we see how much may
be done for God in a little time. If his
death had been foreknown by his friends,
some might have hesitated whether it was
worth while for him to engage in the work
of the ministry for so short a period : yet,
if we take a view of his labors, perhaps
there are few lives productive of a greater
portion of good. That life is not always
the longest which is spun out to the great-
est extent of days. The first of all lives

amounted but to thirty-three years ; and
the most important works pertaining to that
were wrought in the last three. There is
undoubtedly away of rendering a short life
a long one, and a long life a short one, by
filling or not filling it with proper materi-
als. That time which is squandered away
in sloth, or trifling pursuits, forms a kind of
blank in human life : in looking it over
there is nothing for the mind to rest upon ;
and a whole life so spent, whatever num-
ber of years it may contain, must appear
upon reflection short and vacant, in com-
parison of one filled up with valuable ac-
quisitions, and holy actions. It is like the
space between us and the sun, which,
though immensely greater than that which
is traversed in a profitable journey, yet be-
ing all empty space, the mind goes over it
in much less time, and without any satis-
faction. If " that life be long which an-
swers life's great end," Mr. Pearce may as-
suredly be said to have come to his grave
in a good old age. And might we not all
do much more than we do, if our hearts
were more in our work? Where this is
wanting, or operates but in a small degree,
difficulties are magnified into impossibili-
ties ; a lion is in the way of extraordinary
exertion ; or if we be induced to engage in
something of this kind, it will be at the ex-
pense of a uniform attention to ordinary du-
ties. But some will ask. How are our hearts
to be in our work? Mr. Pearce's heart
was habitually in his ; and that which kept
alive the sacred flame in him appears to
have been. The constant habit of convers-
ing with divine truth, and walking with
God in private.

Thirdly: In him we see in clear and
strong colors, to what a degree of solid
peace and joy, trice religion will raise ics,
even in the present world. A little religion,
it has been justly said, will make us miser-
able ; but a great deal will make us happy.
The one Avill do Httle more than keep the
conscience alive, while our numerous de-
fects and inconsistencies are perpetually
furnishing it with materials to scourge us ;
the other keeps the heart alive, and leads
us to drink deep at the fountain of joy.
Hence it is, in a great degree, that so much
of the spirit of bondage, and so little of the
spirit of adoption prevails among Christians.
Religious enjoyments with us are ra-
ther occasional, than habitual ; or if in
some instances it be otherwise, we are rea-
dy to suspect that it is supported in part by
the strange fire of enthusiasm, and not by
the pure flame of scriptural devotion. But,
in Mr. Pearce we saw a devotion ardent,
steady, pure, and persevering ; kindled, as
we may say, at the altar of God, like the
fire of the temple, it went not out by night

396

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

nor by day. He seemed to have learned
that heavenly art, so conspicuous among
the primitive Christians, ofconverting every
thing he met with into materials for love
and joy, and praise. Hence he "labored,"
as he expresses it, " to exercise most love to
God when suffering most severely ;" and
hence he so a,ffectingly encountered the bil-
lows that overwhelmed hie feeble frame,
frying,

"Sweet afflirtion, sweet affliction,
Singinf; as I wade to heaven."

The constant happiness that he enjoyed
in God was apparent in the effects of his
sermons upon others. Whatever we feel
ourselves we shall ordinarily communicate
to our hearers : and it has been already no-
ticed that one of the most distinguishing
properties of his discourses was, that they
inspired the serious mind with the liveliest
sensations of happiness. They descended
upon the audience, not indeed like a trans-
porting flood, but like a shower of dew :
gently insinuating itself into the heart, in-
sensibly dissipating its gloom, and gradual-
ly drawing forth the graces of faith, hope,
love, and joy : while the countenance was
brightened almost into a smile, tears of
pleasure would rise, and glisten, and fall
from the admiring eye.

What a practical confutation did his life
afford of the slander so generally cast upon
the religion of Jesus, that it fills the mind
with gloom and misery ! No : leaving fu-
turity out of the question, the whole world
of unbelievers might be challenged to pro-
duce a character from among them who
possessed half his enjoyments.

Fourthly : From his example we are fur-
nished with the greatest encouragement,
while pursuing the 'path of duty, to place our
trust in God. The situation in which he
left his family, we have seen already, was
not owing to an indifference to their inter-
est, or an improvident disposition, or the
want of opportunity to have provided for
them ; but to a steady and determined obe-
dience to do what he accounted the will of
God. He felt deeply for them, and we all
felt with him. and longed to be able to as-
sure him before his departure, that they
would be amply provided for ; but owing to
circumstances Avhich have already been
mentioned, this was more than we could do.
This was a point in which he was called to
die in faith; and indeed so he did. He
appears to have had no idea of that flood of
kindness, which, immediately after his de-
cease, flowed from the religious public ; but
he believed in God, and cheerfully left all
with him. " Oh that I could speak." said he
to Mrs. Pearce a little before his death. " I
would tell a world to trust a faithful God.
Bweet affliction ; now it worketh glory, glo-

ry !" And when she told him the workings
of her mind, he answered, "O trust the Lord!
If he lift up the light of his countenance upon
you, as he has done upon me this day, all
your mountains will become mole-hills. I
feel your situation : I feel your sorrows : but
he who takes care of sparrows, will care for
you and my dear children."

The liberal contributions which have
since been made, though they do not war-
rant ministers in general to expect the same,
and much less to neglect providing for their
own families on such a presumption ; yet
they must needs be considered as a singu-
lar encouragement, when we are satisfied
that we are in the path of duly, to be inor-
dinately " careful for nothing, but in every
thing, by prayer and supplication, with
thanksgiving, to let our requests be made
known unto God."

Finally : In him we see that the way to
true excellence is not to affect eccentricity,
nor to aspire after the performnnce of a few
splendid actions ; hut to Jill up our lives with
a sober, modest, sincere, affectionate, assidu-
ous, and uniform conduct. Real greatness
attaches to character : and character arises
from a course of action. Solid reputation
as a merchant arises not from a man's hav-
ing made his fortune by a few successful ad-
ventures; but from a course of wise economy
and honorable industry, which gradually ac-
cumulating, advances by pence to shillings,
and by shillings to pounds. The most ex-
cellent philosophers are not those who have
dealt chiefly in splendid speculations, and
looked down upon the ordinary concerns
of men as things beneath their notice, but
those who have felt their interests united
with the interests of mankind, and bent
their principal attention to things of real and
public utility. It is much the same in reli-
gion. We do not esteem a man for one, or
two, or three good deeds, anyfarther than as
these deeds are indications of the real state of
his mind. We do not estimate the charac-
ter of Christ himself so much from his hav-
ing given sight to the blind, or restored
Lazarus from the grave, as from his going
about continually doing good.

These single attempts at great things are
frequently the efforts of a vain mind, which
pants for fame, and has not patience to wait
for it nor discernment to know the way in
which it is obtained. One pursues the
shade, and it flies from him ; while another
turns his back upon it, and it follows him.
The one aims at once to climb the rock, but
falls ere he reaches the summit : the other
walking round it, in pursuit of another ob-
ject, gradually and insensibly ascends till he
reaches it : seeking the approbation of hia
God, he finds with it that of his fellow-Chris-
tians.

MEMOIRS OF PEARCE.

397

"THE

GARDENER AND

TREE."

ROSE-

" Affectionately addressed to Mrs. J. H , on the

death of her child, by her truly sympathising friend.
''March 12, 17^8. S. P."

" In a sweet spot which Wisdom chose,

Grew an unique and lovely Rose ;

A flow'r so fair was seldom borne —

A Rose almost without a thorn.

Each passing stranger stop'd to view

A plant possessing charms so new :

" Sweet Floic'r .'" each lip was heard to say.

Nor less the Owner pleased than they ;

Rear'd by his hand with constant care,

And planted in his choice parterre,

Of all his garden this the pride.

No flower so much admired beside.

Nor did the rose unconscious bloom ,
Nor feel ungrateful for the boon,
Oft as her guardian came that way,
Whether at dawn or eve of day,
Expanded wide — her form unveil'd.
She double fragrance then exhal'd.

As months rolled on, the spring appear'd
Its genial rays the Rose matur'd
Forth from its root a shoot extends —
The parent Rose-tree downward bends,
And with a joy unknown before,
Contemplates the yet embryo flow'r.

' Offspring most dear (she fondly said,)
Part of myself! beneath my shade,
Safe shalt thou rise, whilst happy I,
Transported with maternal joy.
Shall see thy little buds appear,
Unfold and bloom in beauty here.
What though the Lily, or .Jonquil,
Or Hyacinth no longer fill
The space around me — All shall be
Abundantly made up in thee.

'What though my present charms decay,
And passing strangers no more say
Of me, '"Sweet flower !' " yet thou shalt raise
Thy blooming head, and gain the praise ;
And this reverberated pleasure
Shall be to me a world of treasure.
Cheerful I part with former merit.
That it my darling may inherit.
Haste then the hours which bid thee bloom,
And fill the zephyrs with perfume !'

Thus had the Rose-tree scacely spoken,
Ere the sweet cup of bliss was broken ;
The Gard'ner came, and with one stroke
He from the root the offspring took;
Took from the soil wherein it grew,
And hid it from the parent's view.

Judge ye who know a mother's cares
For the dear tender babe she bears,
The parents anguish, ye alone
Such sad vicissitudes have known.

Deep was the wound ; nor slight the pain
Which made the Rose-tree thus complain ;

' Dear little darling ! art thou gone—
Thy charms scarce to thy mother known !
Rcmov'd so soon ! So suddenly,
Snalch'd from my fond maternal eye !
What hast thou done 1 dear offspring ! say,
So early to be snatch'd away !
What ! gone forever ! seen no more !
For ever 1 thy loss deplore.
Ye dews descend, with tears supply
My now forever tearful eye ;
Or rather come some northern blast.
Dislodge my yielding roots in haste.
Whirlwinds arise — my branches tear,
And to some distant regions bear
Far from this spot, a wretched mother,
Whose fruit and joys are gone together.'

As thus the anguish'd Rose-tree cry'd.
Her owner near her she espy'd ;
Who in these gentle terms reprov'd
A plant, though murm'ring, still belov'd :

' Cease beauteous flow'r these useless cries,
And let my lessons make thee wise.
Art thou not mine t Did not my hand
Transplant thee from the barren sand
Where once a mean unsightly,plant,
Expos'd to injury and want,
Unknown, and unadmir'd, I found.
And brought thee to this fertile ground ;
With studious art improv'd thy form,
Secur'd thee from the inclement storm.
And through the seasons of the year.
Made thee my unabating carel
Hast thou not blest thy happy lot.
In such an owner — such a spot?
But now because thy shoot I've taken,
Thy best of friends must be forsaken.
Know flow'r belov'd, e'en this atHiction
Shall prove to thee a benediction :
Had I not the young plant remov'd
(So fondly by thy heart belov'd)
Of me thy heart would scarce have thought^
With gratitude no more be fraught :
— Yea — thy own beauty be at stake
Surrender'd for thy offspring's sake.
Nor think, that, hidden from thine eyes,
The infant plant neglected hes —
No — I've another garden where
In richer soil and purer air
It's now transplanted, there to shine,
In beauties fairer far than thine.

' Nor shalt thou always be apart
From the dear darling of thy heart ;
For 'tis my purpose thee to bear
In future time, and plant thee there,
Where thy now absent offset grows,
And blossoms a celestial Rose.
Be patient, then, till that set hour shall come,
When thou and thine shall in newbeauties bloom.
No more its absence shalt thou then deplore,
Together grow, and ne'er be parted more.'

These words to silence hush'd the plaintive
Rose,
With deeper blushes redd'ning now she glows,
Submissive bow'd herunrepining head.
Again her wonted, grateful fragrance shed —
Cry'd, 'Thou hast taken only what's thine own.
Therefore, thy will, my Lord, not mine, be
done.' "

THE END.

THE

COVENANT OF CIRCUMCISION,

JUST PLEA

INFANT BAPTISM.

By W. T. BRANTLY.

Is there in the word of God any requisi-
tion upon Christians, to attempt the intro-
duction of their infant offspring into the visi-
ble church ? Is the rite of baptism to be
administered to them witli this view ? And
though they cannot answer for themselves,
nor exercise faith and repentance, are they
to be baptized upon the alleged faith of
their parents ? To these questions all Bap-
tists reply, no. They thus place them-
selves in opposition to the prevalent belief
and practice of a large portion of the Chris-
tian world. Nor is it only the current belief
and practice of the Christian world to which
they stand opposed, but to the opinions and
customs of past ages. The position which
they assume is in bold and open contradic-
tion to the authority and learning of very
many names, venerable for piety and use-
fulness, both in ancient and modern times.
For it cannot be dissembled, that the au-
thorities for Infant Baptism, date as far
back as the close of the second century, and
the beginning of the third,* so that it has at
least the sanction of antiquity. And were
it not that New Testament authority is
wanting to it, that the sacred scriptures,
neither implicitly, nor explicitly teach it,
and that reason dissuades it. Baptists might
be justly alarmed at the singularity of their
attitude, and urged to compliance with a
custom so ancient and respectable. They
persuade themselves that they love their
infants as much as others, that they as ear^
nestly desire their salvation, and that they
are as ready as others, to promote and fa-

* The first ptihlic recojnition of infant baptism was A.
p. 250. It may be supposed to liave existed anterior to
that period, and to have been [gradually working its way
into the church along with other corruptions. Hut the
grand error under the sanction of which it obtained ])re-
valence, was that baptism and reijeneration were one
and the same thine. So soon as that came to be a
peneral belief, it was deemed necessai-y in order to en-
sure the spiritual illumination of infants, to have tliem
baptized-— See Neandir's History of ihs Christian Rt!i-
gion, p. 3$1.

cilitate by every lawful means, their conver-
sion to God ; but they cannot be persuaded
to adopt as a religious rite, any tradition
how ancient soever ; nor to conform to a
custom which, in its very institution, pre-
supposes a defect in the Divine Law and
Testimony. They conceive the inspired
code of the Lord to be too perfect, to
leave space for any supplementary acts on
their part, and therefore feel it solemnly
binding on them, to abjure the presumption
of practising uncommanded ordinances.

It has been assumed that the connection
subsisting betwixt beheving parents and
their children, under the gospel dispensa-
tion, is precisely similar to that which pre-
viously intervened betwixt parents and their
offspring under the covenant of circumci-
sion. Or, to express the matter more defi-
nitely, it is asserted by the advocates of in-
fant baptism, that among all those embra-
ced in the covenant of circumcision there
was, between parents and children, a cer-
tain connection, by virtue of which the chil-
dren were circumcised, and admitted to all
the blessings of the said covenant. This
being the covenant of grace, and circumci-
sion the seal of it; and the covenant of our
Lord and Saviour being also the covenant
of grace, and baptism being the seal of it,
therefore, they allege, that the infants of
those tinder the gospel covenant should be
brought Avithin the pale of the visible
church by the ordinance of baptism.

To show that I do not misstate their views
I shall here adduce the language of a few
of their most judicious writers. " The per-
petuity of the Abrahamic covenant, and of
consequence the identity of the church un-
der both dispensations, is so plainly taught
in scripture, and follows so unavoidably
from the radical scriptural principles con-
cerning the church of God, that it is indeed
wonderful how any believer in the bible can
call in question the fact. Every thins ea-

THE COVENANT OF CIRCUMCISION.

399

sential to ecclessiastical identity is evidently
found here. The same Divine Head, the
same precious covenant, the same great
spiritual design, the same atoning blood, the
same sanctifying Spirit, in which we rejoice
as the life and glory of the New Testament
church were also the life and the glory of the
church before the coming of the Messiah. It
is not more certain that a man arrived at a
mature age, is the same individual that he was
when an infant on his mother's lap, than it is
that the chvirch, in tiie plenitude of her light
and privileges, after the coming of Christ, is
the same church, which many centuries be-
fore, though with a much smaller amount of
light and privilege, yet as we are expressly
told in theNew Testament, Acts vii. 38, enjoy-
ed the presence and guidance of her divine
head in the wilderness."* " The point of
primary importance in the present argu-
ment is, the connection established under the
former economy between parents and their
infant offspring. By virtue of that connec-
tion infants were circumcised, and if that
connection has never been by divine ap-
pointment dissolved or diminished, then by
virtue of that connection infants should be
baptized. It is a connection in the cove-
nant of grace, the covenant of redemption,
the everlasting covenant, embracing all that
man can desire, and all that Jehovah can
impart."t " Abraham was admitted to the
rite of circumcision which was a testimony
of his dependence upon the covenant of
grace, a seal of the righteousness of the faith
which he had, yet being uncircumcised."
Rom. iv. 11. That ordinance is now abol-
ished. But we celebrate another which
has succeeded it, and which is the standing
means of admission into the Christian
church.J " The covenant with Abraham
being in reality the gospel covenant, set
Ibrth in types and figures according to the
manner of ancient times, may we not from
the use and efficacy of circumcision, believe
that baptism the rite of initiation into the
Christian church, is like it, a seal of the gos-
pel covenant, and a declaration on the part
of God, that he will count the faith of the
baptized person for righteousness ? and that
like circumcision it may be administered to
infants, to assure their parents that tlieir
future faith shall be accounted, and reward-
ed as righteousness, or if they die in infan-
cy, that they shall be raised to eternal life ?
In this view the baptizing of infants is a
reasonable rite, and must afford the great-
est consolation to all pious parents."^'

The production of authorities to prove the
reliance of ptedobaptists upon the Abraham-
ic covenant for the justification of infant
baptism, might be carried to an indefinite
extent ; all their writers, so far as I know.

' S. MilliT orPrincfrnii.

t H.F. Bunifi-of En-lan.1.

X Robinson's Scripture Characters.

§ Macknight on Rom. iv. 11.

make this the main hinge of the whole ar-
gument. If there be any material disagree-
ment among them, I am not aware of it.
Their comments upon the rite of circumci-
sion from very ancient times, as may be
seen both in the Greek and Latin writers,
unite generally in assigning to it an import
typical of baptism. The ancients in this
particular have been followed by the mod-
erns, and as often as the vindication of in-
fant baptism has been attempted, so often
the old Abrahamic seal has been re-pro-
claimed as an unanswei^ble argument.
This has been pointed to as a standing monu-
ment whose inscription was to be known
and read of all men, whose meaning was to
admit of no doubt, and whose expressive
evidence was to silence all disputation.
Baptists and those of similar opinions, have
often examined, and re-examined this Abra-
hamic monument, with a view to ascertain
its import ; and after the most impartial in-
vestigation, and sober inquiry, and wakeful
scrutiny, have brought back the solemn re-
port, that it points to nothing bearing even
the semblance of baptism.

We have reached and established, at
least in our own minds, this conclusion, by
a careful discussion of the grounds and po-
sitions assumed and methodised by our op-
ponents into what they consider, one irrefra-
gable argument. The argument as we un-
derstand it is this. "Under the former
economy there existed betwixt parents and
their infant offspring, a certain connection
or relation, by virtue of which infants re-
ceived circumcision, the then apparent sign
or seal of the covenant of grace, and hence-
forth became entitled to all the benefits of
that covenant. That connection or relation
has not been dissolved under the gospel dis-
pensation, the church of the former, being
dentical with the church of the latter, and
differing from it only, as an infant on its
mother's lap, differs from the adult man.
Therefore infants under the gospel dispen-
sation are entitled to receive baptism — the
seal of the new covenant and, consequent-
ly, it is the duty of their parents to have it
administered to them."

The foregoing paragraph contains as
fair a reduction of the several propositions
as can be made, under the circumstances
of the case. It is a faithful abstract of the
authorities referred to, and in my judgment,
of all other reasonings and comments insti-
tuted with the view of substantiating the
same propositions. Let the reader now re-
vert to the three members of the formula,
and keep them steadily in view while the
discussion is proceeding.

The first member of the argument asserts,
That under the former economy there ex-
isted between parents and their infant off-
spring, a certain connection or relation, by
virtue of which infants received circumci-

400

THE COVENANT OF CIRCUMCISION

sion, the then visible sign or seal of the
covenant of grace, and henceforth became
entitled to all the benefits of that covenant.
To the truth and justness of this proposition
several exceptions occur, which must be fa-
tal to it. Let them emerge from obscurity
and the whole argument is lost.

1. It is assumed that the covenant of
circumcision is mainly and primarily the
covenant of grace. But, had not the cove-
nant of grace existed long before Abraham?
And had it not been imparting its blessings,
to those who lived and died in faitli long
before that patriarch '? By what covenant
was it, that righteous Abel was accepted
and justified ; that Enoch was raised to the
dignity and privilege of walking with God ;
that Noah, impelled by faith in God's reve-
lations, prepared an Ark to the saving of
of himself and family, and became a preach-
er of righteousness ; and that the Spirit of
God when once his long sutfering waited in
the days of Noah, sustained the litigation,
the strife, in human hearts, against human
depravity ? Surely it were an impossible
presumption that faith, and repentance, and
all godly afl'ections were produced and nur-
tured under a covenant of works. The
promise of Jehovah to Abraham, that he
should be the honored progenitor of the
Messiah ; and the consequent extension of
blessings to all the nations of the earth
through him, did but define and ratify the
gracious promise according to which he had
been already justified whilst in uncircumci-
sion, Rom. iv. 11. The former part of He-
brews xi. shows that the whole plan and
process of justification by faith, was in ope-
ration for nearly two thousand years before
circumcision was known.

2. The position to which we are now
attempting to apply the test of truth, affirms
that the infant offspring of parents under
the Abrahamic covenant, had a title to all
the benefits and blessings of that covenant
and by consequence to the covenant of
grace. From this we are left to infer most
inevitably, that the infant offspring of all be-
lievers anterior to Abraham, had not this
title ; and therefore, if they participated at
all in the provisions of the covenant of grace,
it must have been a sort of unauthorized in-
trusion upon a province to which they had
no claim. At this rate the children of the
righteous men who were the very contempo^
raries of Abraham, such as Job and Melchise-
dec, would have been lawfully excluded from
the consolations of that religion which had
cheered and supported their parents in this
life, and had fixed tlieir hopes upon a glori-
ous future. The truth, however, is, that
Jehovah has never been, and never will be,
a respecter of persons; but in every nation
he that fears God, is accepted of him, irre-
spectively of all external distinctions and
privileges. Circumcision then, could have

brought the descendants of Abraham no
nearer to grace, than uncircumcision, which
latter was no bar to grace.

3. We are now prepared to deny the as-
sumption, that the covenant of circumcision
was mainly, or primarily, the covenant of
grace. That it was collaterally and infer-
entially so is admitted. But if it were prima-
rily and mainly so, the exclusion from grace,
of all mankind not embraced within the seal,
must tbllow as a necessary consequence.
And this consequence has been not only ad-
mitted, but strenuously urged by a large ma-
jority of those who have maintained the no-
tion of the identity of the Abrahamic dispensa-
tion with that of the Evangelical. According
to them, infant baptism has been held as a,
rite, without the due administration of which,
there was no obvious possibility of salva-
tion to infants. They are at least consist-
ent with themselves. If I could believe that
baptism has come in lieu of circumcision,
and that the latter rite was necessary to se-
cure an interest in the covenant of grace
under the former economy, then should I
most assuredly believe, that baptism is ne-
cessary to the salvation of the infants of all
believing parents.

If it be asked, what was then the Abra-
hamic covenant, of which circumcision was
the seal, if it were not tlie one, true, and
only covenant of grace ? I reply. It did
embrace prospectively the blessings of the
Messiah's Kingdom, and these blessings
were to be irrespective of ceremonial marks,
or limitation — and it did actually embrace
the temporal provision of good things for
those descendants of Abraham, who should
bear the impress of the seal. The seal then
had nothing to do with the spiritual and
gracious import of the covenant, but only
with its political and temporal bearing.
The learned Photius, patriarch of Constan-
tinople about the middle of the ninth century,
though admitting circumcision in a second-
ary sense to be a type of baptism, yet main-
tains its primary meaning to be political.
He says, " Circumcision appears to me to
intend three things. The Jirst without
doubt, is, that as a sign or seal it might
separate, and distinguish from other nations,
the posterity of Abraham."* Chrysostom
39th Homily on Genesis, assigns the same
reason for it. " The sign of circumcision,"
he says, " separated the Jews from the other
nations."t Theodoretus writes to the same
eflect. " The Jews in Canaan were about
to be in the immediate proximity of nations

* H TcpiTOftt] Tpia Tiva TrpayftaTevoSai fioi SoKti,
cv fitv, oiovti artficicj Tivi Kai aippayiii rui exyovui
'ASpaapi acjiopi^yaa, xai r<<}v Xoiir&ji; diaftWovaa
cOviov, — Phoiii epist. ccv. p. 302, as quoted by
Stiicer

\ loD^aiowj TO ircpLTOfirjs (ntjiciov £^Q)pifs ro)/

NO JUST PLEA FOR INFANT BAPTISM.

401

differing from them, wherefore, they requi-
red of necessity a certain sign or mark to
distinguish them from other nations."*
Many other quotations might be presented,
clearly indicative of the opinions of the
most learned Greek fatliers on the design
of circumcision. But these may suffice.

The only portion of scripture which will
be thought to oppose the foregoing opinion,
is Rom. iv. 11, to which allusion has been
already made. " And he, Abraham, receiv-
ed the sign of circumcision, a seal of the
righteousness of the faith which he had, yet
being uncircumcised." This scripture in
no wise opposes the ground now taken. To
Abraham as an individual, as one believing
and acting for himself, and for no body else,
circumcision was the seal of his justification
by faith. It was to him the remembrancer
of God's unmerited grace in his election to
salvation through laith and that not of him-
self, but the gift of God. But when this
seal came to be applied to male infants of
the children and posterity of Abraham, did
it speak to them the same language that
it did to him ? In that case, many thou-
sands of confirmed reprobates must have
had, all the time of their profligacy and un-
godliness, the seal of their justification by
faith.

4. A certain connection or relation be-
twixt believing parents and their offspring,
is made a plea for infant baptism. To be
sure, there is a certain connection or rela-
tion betwixt all parents and their infant off-
spring. This cannot be denied. But is
this any thing more than a physical rela-
tionship ? Does any one imagine that gra-
cious dispositions are Iransmissable by con-
sanguinity ? It is Avithout doubt, a great
mercy to be descended of pious parents, a
privilege by no means to be despised ; but
it is a privilege dependent wholly upon ex-
ternal circumstances. The child of the
greatest saint on earth, is naturally no
nearer to God, than that of the greatest
reprobate.

5. The argument of our Psedobaptist
brethren takes for granted that baptism is
the seal of New Testament blessings, and
therefore to be applied to infants. Against
this position we must likewise raise the
strong voice of protestation. We have
only to deny their assumption, and it in-
stantly ceases to avail any thing — for in the
absence of proof, we may boldly deny any
principle, or any inference, unless it be self
evident. But in the whole New Testament
history of baptism there is not the remotest
intimation of such an idea. It appears not
to have entered into tlie mind of our Lord,
nor of his disciples, nor immediate succes-

\apiv avayKaiMi rrii a<ppayt6os cScovto, &c.

Vol. 3.— Y y.

sors, ever once to drop a hint which, even
by allusion, can be so interpreted. Still the
sacred word is not silent respecting the seal.
Believers are sealed unto the day of Re-
demption, and they are sealed with that
Holy Spirit of promise, and hence derive
a permanent, indehble character, which is
true circumcision of the heart in putting off
the body of the sins of the flesh. This is
the only act of obsignation which can be
reasonable and proper ; that which it is
supposed baptism constitutes is preposter-
ous, for if it can be called a seal, it is a seal
for the ratification of a nonentity — nothing
is sealed.

On this head there is some diversity of
opinion among Psedobaptists. A large
class of them hold and delend the idea, that
the obsignatory act of baptism, as they term
it, does seal something ; that some grace is
imparted to the recipient, and a new char-
acter impressed upon him. The baptismal
service in the liturgy of the Episcopal
Church requires the return of thanks to
God, for the presumed regeneration of the
child, by the act of baptism. This class
ofPfedobaptists are much opposed by their
brethren, who on the other hand, deny the
communication of any spiritual or moral
qualifications in the baptismal administra-
tion to infants. In my opinion the baptismal-
regeneration class, are more consistent at
least with the principle assumed by both,
and that is : thai baptism is the seal of char-
acter and the evidence of title to privileges.
Those advocates for infant baptism, who
admit that no spiritual or inward grace is
conveyed thereby to the soul of the recipi-
ent, seem to me to be inconsistent with
themselves when they contend that baptism
is a sealing ordinance. To call it the out-
ward sign of an invisible grace, is truly a
misnomer, since no grace is thereby impart-
ed. Should it be said that the grace de-
rived from their pious parents, is that on
which the seal is impressed, in the baptism
of infants, the matter is still more inexpli-
cable. The taint of original sin appears to
run in the blood from father to son ; and
has assumed this order of propagation,
from Adam down to the present time.
But if the word of God makes a true repre-
sentation, there is no channel except that
of regeneration, through which can flow
those sanctifying virtues that go to correct
this taint, and cleanse the soul from its in-
herent pollution.

6. But if all the intents and purposes of
circumcision be responded to, and verified
by baptism, how are we to account for the
remarkable declarations in Paul's Epistle
to the Galatians touching the subject of cir-
cumcision? In chapter the fifth he strongly
deprecates the imputation of preaching cir-
cumcision, and clears himself of the charge

402

THE COVENANT OF CIRCUMCISION

by repeated denials. In declining to preach
it he had suffered persecution ; had in a
manner expatriated himself from his nation,
and become the demolisher of that which
he once built up. His Jewish brethren con-
verted to the Christian foith, and others
who thought that the covenant of circum-
cision should be still observed, is the party
with which he is contesting the important
point. Had it been a fact that baptism had
taken the place of circumcision, it is won-
derful that Paul refrained, under such cir-
cumstances, from its assertion. As the
party which he labored to convince, attach-
ed so much importance to circumcision, and
were therefore almost pertinacious in their
purpose of retaining it, to satisfy their scru-
ples, he could have said, and in my judg-
ment should have said, " It is true that cir-
cumcision was the seal of the Abrahamic
covenant, that all the male descendants of
that patriarch, received this seal, and were
thereby admitted to the blessings and priv-
ileges of the covenant ; but now, a new seal
is introduced, a new ordinance, more befit-
ting the diffusive nature of gospel bles-
sings, and more reasonable in point of sig-
nification ; that ordinance is baptism, which
is applied not only to the male but to the
female off'spring of all believers who be-
come in consequence the spiritual seed of
Abraham." There is, however, no such
intimation in any thing which the apostle
utters. Wherever he mentions circumcis-
ion as having a typical sense, it is invaria-
bly referred to the work of moral renova-
tion by the spirit of God. " He is a Jew
who is one inwardly, and circumcision is
that of the heart, in the spirit and not in
the letter, whose praise is not of men, but
of God." Rom. ii. 29. " In Avhom also ye
are circumcised with the circumcision made
without hands, in putting oft" the body of
the sins of the flesh by the circumcision of
Christ," Col. ii. 11. "For we are the cir-
cumcision which worship God in the Spirit,
and rejoice in Ciirist Jesus, and have no
confidence in the flesh." Phil. iii. 3. This
transfer of the literal and external idea of
the rite, to the characteristics of the spirit-
ual and internal grace, is most forcible and
apposite. As an illustration it is replete
with a meaning that must reach every
heart. But the same idea transferred to
baptism whetlier of infants, or of adults,
falls vapid and insignificant upon the under-
standing of every one.

7. In the baptismal controversy, much
reliance has been placed upon the assumed
identity of the Jewish, and the Christian
church. It is urged, that they differ in no
other respect, than that in wliich the peri-
ods of infancy, and mature age differ, in
the same indivitiual. The cliurrh of God,
it is said, was in its minority under the for-
mer dispensation, and in the latter, it is the

same church having attained the manly age
and freedom. From this identity it is ar-
gued, that the infant offspring of those
within the gospel church, have a sort of a
birth-right privilege, founded upon their de-
scent. To exhibit the utter futility of this
argument, we have only to suppose a case.
A preacher of the gospel stands for the first
time before a congregation of unconverted
persons, of whom one half are the children
of pious parents, who took early care to
draw over them the veil of the covenant,
as they thought, by applying to them, the
substitute for circumcision, namely bap-
tism. The other half are the children of
parents who adopted no euch precautions.
The preacher opens and expounds the terms
of his commission, to this whole company.
He informs them that, " He that believeth
and is baptized, shall be saved ; that God
now commands all men every where to re-
pent," that a free and full salvation is now
proclaimed without distinction of men or
nation, to all the human family ; and adds
with full and gracious emphasis, " Whoso-
ever will, let him come, and take the water
of life freely." I ask, does the preacher
furnish a just view of the gospel commis-
sion 1 If he does, he places the whole con-
gregation upon one footing, and offers for the
conversionof thepriviIegedportion.no facil-
ities or encouragements, more than to that
which stands upon uncovenanted ground.
But the moment he draws a line of dis-
tinction betwixt this ungodly assemblage,
and represents a part of them as being
more welcome to the Saviour than the rest,
he compromises his commission, and also the
Truth itself Where then, I ask, are the cov-
enanted privileges of infant baptism. Infant
Baptism must either accomplish something,
or nothing. If no object be attained by it,
then it is a perfect nullity, if not worse. If
some end, some good purpose, some benev-
olent intention be ensured by it, what is
that end, that purpose, that design? Does it
introduce the infantinto the visible church?
Does it more certainly procure for it the privi-
legesof the covenantof grace? Does it sup-
ply motives and circumstances by which
gracious predispositions to godliness and
piety are excited within it, or else thrown
about it? If it accomplish all this, or even
any part of it, then baptized infants are
not the same strangers from God, and al-
iens from the covenant of promise, as otiiers,
they are not sinners in the same sense as
others, they need not repentance in the same
sense as others, their calling and election,
require not the same efficiency of grace for
their certification ; and they accordingly
need a less effort of grace, for their justifi-
cation and dclivrirance fromtheeffectsof sin.
It is unnecessary to proceed in develop-
ing the consequences which must unavoid-
ably result from the assumptions of those

NO JUST PLEA FOR INFANT BAPTISM.

403

who defend infant baptism. Such conse-l
quences are as abhorrent from the deduc-
tions of sound reason, as they are from the
genius of the gospel. For, in real, sober,
unaffected truth, the baptism of infants
leaves them, just where it found them. It
is not possible in the nature of things, nor
according to the constitution of the gospel
economy, that it should modify, either their
state, or moral character. We have for
many centuries, as a denomination, borne
our strong, and decided testimony against
it. Our opinions are gaining ground, and
the doctrines held by our psdobaptist breth-
ren are surely receding from the bold stand
Avhich they once occupied. There is scarce-
ly a Pgedobaptist church, ehher in England
or America, without some anti-pssdobap-
tists. They are to be found where they
are, from causes and circumstances wholly
disconnected with Psedobaptist predilec-
tions. They are permitted to remain there
in the open neglect of an alleged duty ;
and even whilst their opinions and senti-
ments are known to be opposed to that al-
leged duty. But is there a Baptist church
in existence, which admits to fellowship in
the privileges of the Lord's house, those
who neglect conformity to the requisition
of Christ, in regard to baptism, and who
justify themselves in that neglect ? Should
it be said, that this is because we are less
liberal than others, we reply ; Let us be
lor ever delivered from that liberality
which prostrates the authority of Christ.

In the remarks lor which the limits of this
Work allow further space, I shall prove to
(he satisfaction at least of the unprejudiced,
that there can be no proper and rational
connection or similitude between circumcis-
ion and baptism. This I shall attempt by
comparing the nature, uses, and ends of
both. 1. Circumcision had no necessary
connection with the covenant of grace, for
if it had, then it should have been admin-
istered to all the saints prior, and subse-
quent to Abraham. It is altogether admis-
sible, nay it is manifest that the church as
it existed in spiritual relation to Jehovah,
and to its own members ; was the same be-
fore and after Abraham? Faith in God,
was the common bond of union, and the
basis of identity. In this respect Abraham
and his pious descendants were in exact
agreement and similarhy with Abel, and
Seth, and Enoch, and Noah, and Lot, and
Melchisedec, and Job, and all the members
of the antediluvian, as well as the post-
diluvian church, Avho knew nothing about
circumcision. The rite in question, there-
fore, was not essential to an interest in the
covenant of grace. But it was indispensa-
bly necessary to an interest in the national
blessings promised to Abraham and his
posterity, under the seal of circumcision.
A linial descendant of Abraham if uncir-

cumcised, was excluded, by the express
command of God, from citizenship in the
Jewish nation, and from all its attendant
privileges.

From all this it follows incontestably, that
circumcision was the mark of nationality,
that it belonged to a temporal policy, and
was not the necessary obsignation of moral
character. Baptism on the other hand,
though not essential to salvation, yet pre-
cedes it by an order of events which no
man dares to change. " He that believeth
and is baptized shall be saved." The first
duty after faith is baptism. This is the
law of the evangelical economy, and so
universally binding is it, that its wilful neg-
lect and violation must be always attended
with sin, in a greater or less degree. Ma-
ny, it is true, may be admitted to a partici-
pation in the benefits of salvation, without
baptism. Their sin of omission may be
excused and forgiven, on various grounds ;
but neither its excusableness, nor its for-
giveness, can in any wise invalidate the or-
der of scripture. The succession of sal-
vation to faith and baptism, stands as the
permanent, and unalterable gradation of
events in the gospel plan. The great au-
thor and finisher of our faith, has not in-
formed us how this gradation may be dis-
turbed without destroying the hope of sal-
vation ; but he has plainly intimated to us,
that the servant who knows his Lord's will,
and doeth it not, may expect no very favor-
able reception of his Lord, but may rather
look for the infliction of stripes.

2. Whatever circumcision might have
been, it did not distinguish the righteous
from the wicked. It did distinguish one
family from all other families, and nations.
It was a discriminating mark, by which that
one family should be kept within the line
of its own proper descent, from one genera-
tion to another. But amid the most open,
and grievous apostacies of the Jewish peo-
ple, fheir national seal continued to be im-
pressed upon all their male offspring, as
strictly as in the most prosperous times of
piety ; nor was it ever a doctrine among
them, that impiety of conduct subsequent
to the reception of the seal, in any manner
annulled their claim to the privileges of
which it was the sign. As an ordinance
enjoined in the terms of the new covenant,
baptism is a rite designed to distinguish
betwixt the godly and the ungodly. In it
believers are buried, and risen with Christ ;
it is the signal of their crucifixion and res-
urrection with their Lord and Saviour, and
the remembrancer of their entire consecra-
tion to his service. Deliberate and contin-
ual wickedness after baptism, manifestly
excludes the delinquent party from all the
privileges of the visible church, and places
him in no better relation to that church than
a Iieathen may possess.

404

THE COVENANT OF CIRCUMCISION

3. The covenant of grace had its accom-
plishment in the person, offices, sufferings,
and crucifixion of Christ. He undertook
to fulfil its stipulations, and did actually,
and truly conduct it to the glorious height
of a full consummation. Thus completed,
thus secured against all possibility of
cliange or retraction, it is in due course of
administration under the plans and ar-
rangements of the gospel dispensation.
This is Messiah's kingdom, a kingdom not
of this world, but of the spiritual, invisible
world. It stands open for the reception of
people of all nations, and kindreds, and
tongues. It creates a holy unity among all
those embraced within its influence, by the
infusion of a gracious spirit into their hearts,
and by imparting to them the cementing
charities of regeneration. They have be-
come '• A chosen generation, an holy nation,
a peculiar people, that they may show ibrth
the praises of him who hath called them
out of darkness, into his marvellous light."
There is henceforth " Neither Jew, nor
Greek, neither bond nor free, neither male
nor female," but all are one in Christ. The
extension of blessings to all mankind, and
the wide diffusion of hght and mercy in the
joyful sound of salvation, are the well
known characteristics of the New Testa
ment dispensation. Does any rite or or
dinance, commemorative of the restrictive
and circumscribed economy of an obsolete
ceremonial, comport with the expansive be
nevolence and grace of the gospel? To
our Paedobaptist brethren we must speak on
this topic with great frankness and affec-
tion. When your children, on whom you
have procured the administration of bap-
tism, ask you, " What mean ye by this ser-
vice?" what reply, which shall not perplex
and mystify the word of God, can you
make ? Will you tell them that baptism is
a substitute for circumcision ; that they are
now under the seal of the covenant of
grace, and entitled to all its privileges; and
that they are Abraham's seed, and heirs
according to the promise? And if they
ask you again, what mean ye, by the word
seal? You must surely tell them, if con-
sistent with yourselves, that it is the exter-
nal sign of an infernal grace. But if you
inform them that it is a sign that signifies
nothing, tliat it is merely the shadow of^ a
shade ; they will surely think that an illu-
Bive mockery has been practised upon them.
And if you persuade them that baptism is
regeneration, and they are induced to be-
lieve what you say ; as a matter of course,
they will seek no other regeneration ; and
will rest in the groundless confidence that
they are already secure of all the provis-
ions of the gracious covenant.

4. Circumcision preceded all knowledge
and consciousness on the part of the male
infants upon whom it was inflicted. Ac-

cording, however, to the very Institution of
baptism, it succeeds knowledge, faith, and
the conscious persuasions of the mind. So
often as baptism is mentioned in the entire
New Testament, so often is it preceded by
the mental and moral actions of its recipi-
ents. John baptized only upon a profes-
sion of repentance ; the Saviour command-
ed baptism only as consequent upon faith.
The apostles and primitive disciples, so far
as we know, baptized none except upon
profession of faith in Christ. The baptism
of infants breaks the sacred order of succes-
sion in the gospel plan, and inverts the scale
of duty. For duty proceeds from convic-
tion and faith, whilst Pcedobaplism places
action even before rational consciousness of
any sort. Surely we do not misname it, when
we say it is preposterous. It places the
consequent where the antecedent should
be, and thus disturbs the settled harmony
of truth and obedience.

Can it therefore be imagined, that cir-
cumcision which was applied to passive and
unconscious subjects, was intended to typi-
fy baptism, which was never applied, ac-
cording to New Testament authority, to
any but intelligent, conscious, and respon-
sible agents ?

5. Baptism affects the whole body, being
its thorough immersion into water, in the
name of the adorable Trinity. Of this fact,
there can be little doubt left to any reader
of the New Testament, in any language.
Had we been present at the administra-
tions of this ordinance, which took place in
the days of our Saviour and his apostles ;
and were now about to render in our testi-
mony, as to the mode which was then adop-
ted, we might of course speak with irresis-
tible confidence and certainty. As eye
witnesses, if our credibility in other respects
were not impeachable, we should be enti-
tled to the most implicit belief But, nei-
ther have we been eye witnesses, nor has
one come from the dead to certify to us the
rectitude of our views and practice. The
ground of our confidence, however, in their
exact accordance with the views and prac-
tices of the apostolic age, are as strong
and undeniable, as if they were vouched
for by eye-witnesses, or by those who arose
from the dead. The strong, repeated, and
unambiguous terms, in which the form of
baptism is made known to us, allow very
little room even tor captiousness to exert
itself It must be a mind addicted to quib-
bling, and exceedingly unhinged by the
oscillations of doubt, which can find uncer-
tainty in the meaning of the word baptism.
It is a word of full and definite import. It
is expressive of an action, with accompany-
ing facts and circumstances, which cannot
be misunderstood. Water sufficient tor im-
mersion is, in the New Testament, often
placed in direct connection with baptism,

FORMATION OF THE A. & F. BIB. SOCIETY.405

and is always necessarily presupposed.
The word in English most nearly equiva-
lent to it, is immersion, and though every
immersion is not baptism, yet every bap-
tism is immersion. That the baptism of
the Saviour himself, was the immersion of
his body under the waves of Jordan's stream,
by John, cannot be well and fairly doubted,
because it is expressly said, He emerged*
which he could not have done unless he
had been first immerged. And that the
Saviour commanded in the great commis-

Avt/Sr] cvdvi avo rov viaro;.

sion, the administration of baptism in the
same sense, in which he himself liad re-
ceived it, cannot be consistently questioned.
Is there any expressiveness in circumcision
consonant with this just and scriptural view
of baptism? Can any possible analogy
be traced betwixt the two rites?

In conclusion, Let us rejoice that Christ
has made us free from the covenant of cir-
cumcision, that the old Mosaic yoke is bro-
ken, that we are the subjects of a dispensa-
tion in which God deals with all men alike,
and is graciously willing to accept all who
come to him through Christ Jesus.

REASONS FOR THE FORMATION OF THE AMERICAN AND FOREIGN BIBLE SOCIETY.

A DISCOURSE,

DELIVERED AT THE ORGANIZATION OF THE

BIBLE SOCIETY FOR ALBANY COUNTY AND ITS VICINITY,

IN THE

MEETING-HOUSE OF THE FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH
IN WESTERLO,

AUGUST 31, 1836.

By a. L. COVELL,

pastor or the first baptist church in the city of albany.

Acts XV. 29. " And the contention was so sharp between
them, that they departed asunder one from the oth-
er."

The parties to this contention were Paul
and Barnabas, ministers and missionaries
of the church in Antioch. This was the
first church gathered among the Gentiles.
It was emphatically a missionary church.
" As they ministered to the Lord and fast-
ed, the Holy Ghost said, Separate me Bar-
nabas and Saul for the work whereunto I
have called them. And when they had
fasted and prayed, they laid their hands on
them and sent them away."

A nobler example than this, of the true
missionary spirit, is not on record. How
ardently must that church have been at-
tached to Barnabas and Paul ! How high-
ly must they have valued their ministry !
Though there were other ministers in the
church, yet they seemed to have been less
active and useful. They were called, there-

fore, to send their best and most beloved
men on missionary service. It must have
been a great trial to their faith, yet they
seem most cheerfully and unanimously to
have complied with this divine appoint-
ment. They immediately sent forth their
beloved teachers, with fasting and pray-
er, that the divine protection and blessing
might attend them. In this labor of love,
they received a rich reward. After an ab-
sence of two or three years, their mission-
aries returned with the thrilling report of
converts multiplied, of numerous churches
gathered, and of the wide diti'usion of the
gospel in different countries.

Alter this, having remained several years
with the church in Antioch, Paul proposed
to Barnabas to revisit the churches they
had gathered, and assist them in whatever
might be requisite to their prosperity. To
this proposal, Barnabas readily assented,
and it doubtless received the approbation

406 REASONS FOR THE FORMATION OF THE

of the whole church, Barnabas determin-
ed to take with them Marlt, who had ac-
companied them through apart of their for-
mer mission, but returned before their woriv
was finished. Paul was unwilling to place
any dependance upon him again, and de-
clined his company on the new mission.
On this point " the contention was so sharp
between them, that they departed asunder
one from the other." Barnabas and Mark
sailed to Cyprus; while Paul, choosing
Silas for his companion, " went through
Syria and Cilicia, confirming the churches."

This difficulty between these first two
missionaries to the Gentiles, was, no doubt,
regarded at the time as a great evil. Both
might have been actuated by improper
feeling. Mark was nephew to Barnabas,
who might have been too partial to him ;
and a man who had once forsaken his work
without a good reason for it, was not likely
to find much favor with Paul, who seems
never to have learjied how to abandon a
good work till it was accomplished.

It might have appeared to many very
unwise in these brethren, to " depart asun-
der from each other," even if they could not
agree about taking Mark with them. Such
a separation, for so slight a cause, might
have been considered a. very bad precedent
for those missionaries to give the churches.
Its influence upon all future laborers might
have been most unhappj^ ; while their ene-
mies might have taken occasion from it to
blaspheme the doctrine of Christ, and de-
spise its promoters. But " how can two
walk together, except they be agreed ?"
And what is the benefit of "keeping up the
appearance of union, when the reality of it
does not exist ? These apostles would not.
could not act on this principle. If they
could not go out amicably together, they
would separate. The field was wide
enough for both, and each would choose
his companion, prosecute his labor, and
trust in God for the results ; and it is easy
now to see, that great good resulted from
their decision. At first, only one mission
had been contemplated, and Paul and Bar-
nabas were to have been the only labor-
ers ; but by their separation, two missions
were undertaken by four laborers at the
Bame time, so that the whole affair " turned
out for the furtherance of the gospel."

This narrative was certainly written for
our instruction. It shows us, that even good
men cannot always agree in the choice of
means for the conversion of the world ; that
if they cannot agree, they had better sepa-
rate ; and that much greater good can be
effected by an honorable separation, than
by an endeavor to act in concert in things
concerning which there exists a real disun-
ion.

I shall not, on tliis occasion, remark on
cither of those points, important as they

are to all who pray and labor for the world'a
conversion ; but I will take occasion from
(hem to remark on another and quite re-
cent occurrence, connected with the same
great cause, attended by circumstances
which all deplore, but which will, I doubt
not, be overruled in the good providence
of God, for the far more vigorous promo-
tion of the cause of missions, and will result
in the conversion of more souls to God. I
allude to events which have transpired in
the American Bible Society within the past
year ; events which have sundered from
that society the largest Christian denomi-
nation in America, and which have led to
the formation of the American and Foreign
Bible Society. Most persons in this com-
munity are aware that such a separation
has occurred, and that the last named so-
ciety has been organized ; but with the
causes which led to it, and with the circum-
stances attending it, many are not yet fa-
miliar. As the aid of our churches, and of
the friends of truth who act with us, will
hereafter be solicited in favor of the A. &
F. B. S., and not as heretofore for the A.
B. S., they have a right to expect from us
the reasons for this new measure. In al-
most all our congregations, the frequent
inquiry is, " Why have you formed a new
bible society? What do you intend to ac-
complish by it? Are you not Avilling to
unite with all Christians in giving the bible
to mankind, without note or comment?"
These inquiries ought to receive a direct
and satisfactory answer. I do not wish any
man to feel the least sympathy for the new
society ; I do not desire him to offer one
prayer for its prosperity, or to contribute a
farthing for its promotion, unless there is
good reason to believe it is approved of
God. If it be not of God, let it fall ! But if
it be of God, let us sustain it by our prayers,
and by our liberality, in a manner worthy

of its RIGHTEOUS ORIGIN, and of its NOBLE
AIMS.

The object to be accomplished by the A.
& F. B. "S. is stated in its Constitution.
The first article declares, that its " single
object shall be to promote a wider circula-
tion of the holy scriptures, in the most
FAITHFUL versions that can be procured."
The second article requires, that " the So-
ciety shall add its efforts to those employed
•by other Societies, in circulating the scrip-
tures according to its ability, in all lands,
whether Christian, Mahomedan or Pagan."
Its object all will approve : It is simply to
give the Pure Word of God to all our fel-
low men who do not possess it.

Our present inquiry, then, is this: Why
is it thai the Baptist denomination cannot
continue united with the A. B. S. in trans-
lating and circulating the bible in foreign
languages, as they have done for years
past?

AMERICAN AND FOREIGN BIBLE SOCIETY. 407

Some of the principal facts and Circum-
stances which have imposed upon us the
necessity of withdrawing from the A. B.
S., so far as the translation and distribution
of the bible in foreign languages are con-
cerned, will now be given. They are such,
I think, as will appear sufficient to justify
the formation of a new bible society, and to
give it a very high claim upon the prayers
and munificence of an enlightened chris-
tian public.

In 1832, Mr. William Yates, Baptist mis-
sionary in Calcutta, published "J. Revised
and Improved Edition of the Bengalee
New Testament?'' It was first translated
by Dr. Cary, andpubhshed byhim in 1800.
" During the life of Dr. C. it passed through
seven or eight editions, each of which had
the advantage of his critical supervision."

"Mr. Yates went to Calcutta in 1814,
made himself thoroughly acquainted with
the Bengalee language, and preached ma-
ny years with much acceptance and suc-
cess to the natives of Bengal. He is ac-
knowledged by competent judges in Eu-
rope, as well as in Asia, to be one of the
best Oriental scholars now alive ; and his
Bengalee New Testament has received
from learned pundits and teachers of Cal-
cutta the most unqualified commendation."
For assistance in publishing this edition of
the New Testament, Mr. Yates applied to
the British and Foreign Bible Society.
His application was referred to the Calcut-
ta Bible Society, Auxiliary to the British
and Foreign. This society, in 1831, refus-
ed to encourage any version in which the
word baptizo was translated to immerse ;
and this was followed by a similar step on
the part of the parent society in 1833. The
history of these transactions is given by the
missionaries themselves, in a letter dated
the twenty-fifth of May, 1832. "Some
years since," they say, " three of the Pse-
dobaptist brethren, unknown to us, though
on the most friendly terms with us, wrote
to the Bible Society in England, request-
ing them not to give assistance to any In-
dian version, in which the word baptizo
was translated to immerse. None of these
lived to see the reply to their communica-
tion, and nothing further of a positive na-
ture was done till last year. When you
applied to the Bible Society in England
for assistance to our version, the secretary
of the parent institution wrote to the Bible
Society in Calcutta, stating, Avithout any
reference to baptism, tliat if the version was
considered a good one, it was their wish to
afford assistance. The resolution they for-
warded, was as follows : " That the above
application respecting an edition of the
Bengalee New Testament, be referred to
the committee of the Calcutta Auxiliary
Society, with authority to contribute to-
wards the expense of an edition, should

they be of opinion that it ought to be en-
couraged by this Society." After seeing
this resolution, we inquired privately
whether they intended to give us aid, but
could obtain no answer. A short time af-
terwards, in their annual report, they came
forward and boldly declared their senti-
ments, intimating, too plainly to be misun-
derstood, that they should encourage no
version of the scriptures, how well soever it
might be executed, in which the word bap-
tizo was translated to immerse.

Here, then, the die was cast, so far as
the British and Foreign Bible Society, and
its auxiharies, were concerned. It was im-
possible to receive assistance from them,
unless the translation was altered. This
the translators could not do, and preserve a
good conscience. They therefore deter-
mined to apply for assistance to the Ameri-
can Bible Society.

Their letter making this application, was
received by the board of managers of the
Americen Bible Society, on the sixth of
August of last year. It was referred to the
committee on distribution. After long de-
liberation and discussion, a majority of the
committee reported to the board, against
the application of Mr. Yates. A minority
of the committee presented a counter re-
port, and in favor of the application. This
was followed by a long discussion in the
public meetings of the board. The result
of it was, that no assistance should be ren-
dered to the publication of the Bengalee
New Testament, because it translated bap-
tizo^ and its kindred terms, by words which
in Bengalee signify to immerse.

But this was not all. They did not con-
fine their decision to the single case of Mr.
Yates, but adopted a rule by which they
would be governed in all cases hereafter.
The rule is this : " As the managers are now
called upon to aid extensively in circulating
the sacred scriptures in languages other than
the English, they deem it their duty, in
conformity to the obvious spirit of their
compact, to adopt the following resolution
as the rule of their conduct in making ap-
propriations for the circulation of the scri]>-
tures in all foreign tongues : Resolved, That
in appropriating money for translating, print-
ing, and distributing of the sacred scrip-
leres in foreign languages, the managers
feel at liberty to encourage only such ver-
sions as conform in the principles of their
translation to the common English version,
at least so far as that all religious denomi-
nations connected with this society can con-
sistently use and circulate said versions in
their several schools and communities."

By the adoption of this resolution, three
points of very great moment were decided :
First, tlie " Re\ased and Improved Edition
of the Bengalee Nev/ Testament," perhaps
the most faithful and perfect version ever

408 REASONS FOR THE FORMATION OF THE

made in any oriental tongue, was rejected
as unworthy the patronage oi" American
Christians ! Though thirty milhons of our
fellow men were speaking the language of
Bengal, and though the New Testament in
question was the only medium through
which they could have access to the reve
lation of their Maker's will, yet it was re-
jected, and the rejection- plainly imphed that
they had better have no bible in " their
schools and communities" than such an one
They had better grope on still in their
darkness, than read a New Testament
which should tell them, as plainly as Paul
did the Romans and Colossians, that they
were " buried with Christ in baptism."

Another point decided by this resolution,
is that any translation of the holy scriptures
into any language, which shall render bap-
tizo and its cognates by terms which signi-
fy immerse, should receive no encourage-
ment from the A. B. S. This was a virtual
declaration, that all aid should hereafter be
Avithheld from every translation or the scrip-
tures which had been made, or was now in
progress, by our denomination. This was
speaking once for all, and in a manner too
plain and peremptory to be misunderstood.

A third point necessarily implied in this
resolution, is, that every translation of the
scriptures made by our denomination into
any language, is considered and treated as
sectarian, and as unworthy to be "circula-
ted in schools and communities." This
was certainly speaking very loudly to us,
and required some action on our part, that
would be public, decided, and final. The
two largest bible societies in the world had
wholly and forever refused all aid, and all
co-operation with us in giving the bible to
the heathen, unless we changed the princi-
ple on which our translations had ever been
made.

Under these circumstances, only two
things v.'ere possible. One was to succomb
to the dictation of the British and American
societies ; throw away the toils, and tears
and prayers of Cary, Marshman, Judson and
Yates. We should then have only to say
to our future translators, " When you come
to baptisma or baplizo, do not pray to God
to enable you to translate those words faith-
fully. Do not, by ' diligent study endeavor
to ascertain their exact meaning:' that's
a sectarian proceeding. You are not to
search the language into which you trans-
late, for Avords corresponding to them in
meaning, by which you may give their ex-
act import to those for whom you are trans-
lating: that will be considered an attempt
to make the heathen all Baptists. It Avill
be denominated, both in England and
America, ' a scheme of proselytisni.' This
we can never endure. Therefore, when
you come to these troublesome words, read
over carefully the instructions given to the

authors of the ' Common English Version,'
and proceed accordingly." This was one
course of action, open for us to pursue.
Another was, to form a bible society of our
own, appoint our own translators, instruct
them to make the " most faithful" versions
possible in all languages into which they
should translate the scriptures, and then
submit those translations to the supreme
control of Almighty God, and to the enlight-
ened judgment of the Christian world.
This last alternative we have adopted ; and
on the thirteenth of May last, organized, in
the city of New York, the American and
Foreign Bible Society.

We have now in our country two national
bible societies. The point on which they
differ is easily understood, and should be
carefully considered. It is this: The A.
B. S. requires that all translations of the
Bible into foreign languages, must, on the
subject of baptism, be made on the same
principle with the " Common English Ver-
sion."

The A. & F. B. S. requires that the
words relating to baptism, shall be transla-
ted by the same rule that other words are ;
that they shall be faithfully rendered by
words of the same meaning in the langua-
ges into which translations are made.

This is the only practical point that di-
vides the two societies. Let us, ibr a mo-
ment, fix our attention upon tliis point. It
is well known that our present English Bi-
ble was translated by order of King James
of England, and first published in 1611. By
order of the King, baptizo and its kindred
terms were not translated, but transferred
into the language. This was introducing
a new word into the language, a word
which no one would understand unless they
were acquainted with Greek, and whose
meaning they could not ascertain except by
inquiring of their teachers, or from diction-
aries and lexicons. These words having
now been used in our language more than
two hundred j-ears, have become familiar to
English readers, though at first they would
have conveyed to them no meaning what-
ever. So far as the translation was con-
cerned, therefore, the ordinance of baptism
was left entirely in the dark. No one, with-
out some knowledge of Greek, could learn
from these words in the English bible, what
was the mind of the Spirit in this great
duty.

Now, the question to be determined is,
Was the principle of translation a good one ?
Why not translate what God has enjoined
in the ordinance of baptism, as well as what
he has enjoined in any other duty ? Had
the Holy Ghost revealed in Greek, what it
would be unsafe to publish in "plain Eng-
lish ?" what the American Bible Society
cannot "consistently circulate in schools
and communities?"

AMERICAN AND FOREIGN BIBLE! SOCIETY. 409

We have also another question to deter-
mine. How ought Christian missionaries
now to be governed in translating the bible
into the languages of the heathen ? Ought
they to be bound by the command of a
bigoted king, now two hundred years in his
grave ; or ought tliey to rendef every word
of the holy bible as faithfully as possible ?

In April, 1833, the Baptist Board of For-
eign Missions, convened in Salem, Mass.
instructed their missionaries engaged in the
translation of the scriptures, " to endeavor,
by earnest prayer and diligent study, to as-
certain the precise meaning of the original
text, and to express that meaning as exact-
ly as the nature of the languages into which
they shall translate the bible will permit,
and to transfer no words which are capable
of being translated." Such is the rule by
which our missionaries are to be governed.
Mark its simplicity and its justice. First, they
are to pray for divine help : That certainly
is right. Then they are to " ascertain the
precise meaning of the original text :"
Who can object to that 7 Then they are
to " express that meaning as exactly as the
nature of the languages into which they
translate will permit:" Is that objection-
able ? Then they are directed to " transfer
no word which is capable of being transla-
ted:" And why should they? Can the
heathen understand a Greek word intro-
duced into their language, better than a
word of their own with which they have
always been familiar ? What possible ob-
jections to this rule of translation can be
made by any intelligent, unprejudiced Chris-
tian? And yet for literally following this
rule, in his revision of the Bengalee New
Testament, Mr. Yates, one of the most
learned and pious missionaries on earth, has
been refused any encouragement from the
A. B. S. in its publication. Is this charita-
ble ? But this is not all. For adhering to
this rule in the translation of the scriptures,
they have refused all co-operation with the
most numerous denomination of Christians
connected with them, of whose money they
have now thousands in their treasury. Has
that been done with an enlarged spirit of
Christian liberality ? Have the men who
have done this, above all others, been wash-
ed white of sectarianism? Judge of their
principle of translation by ihe Saviour's gol-
den rule, "As ye would that men should do
to you, do ye even so to them." Suppose
you had no bible, and an able, faithful
translator was about to provide it for you :
Would you want him to translate " faithful-
ly" every part of it, so that you could easily
read and understand it all in your own
tongue ? Would you be willing he should
give you what relates to baptism, in woi-ds
you never saw or heard of before ? words
whose meaning you would have to learn by

Vol, 3.— Zz.

repeated inquiry of your teacher, and about
which one teacher would tell you one thing,
and another, another ? Could you consent
to have him leave you thus in the dark in
this matter ? Well, if you would not like
to be treated in this manner yourself, then,
by our Saviour's rule, you ought not to be
willing any fellow creature should be treat-
ed in the same manner. And yet this ie
exactly the manner in which the American
Bible Society requires all translations to be
made, which share its patronage. Let any
missionary on earth, however learned or
pious, translate the bible into any foreign
language, by earnest prayer to God, by
ascertaining the precise meaning of the
original text, and by expressing that mean-
ing exactly in the language into which he
translates, transferring no word, but trans-
lating all, and the American Bible Society
will refuse him all assistance in its publica-
tion ! and have besides a standing resolu-
tion, which recognizes such a translation as
sectarian, and unworthy to be "circulated in
schools and communities !" With such a
rule of action, American Baptists never can
agree ; in such treatment of the heathen
world, they cannot participate; to such
concealment of the word of life, they cannot
be accessory. On this point the contention
between the two bible societies has been
" sharp," and they are " parted asunder the
one from the other."

There were other circumstances, also,
which contributed to bring about this result.
Translations like those which are now re-
jected, had been patronized by the British
and American societies, up to the time when
these difficulties arose. The British and
Foreign Bible Society had patronized trans-
lations of the scriptures in various eastern
languages, made by Dr. Carey, and in
which the words in dispute were rendered
exactly as Yates and Judson now translate
them. It was not till the year 1833, that
their aid in printing and circulating these
versions was withheld ; and the American
Bible Society had patronized versions of the
same kind, until 1835. Now, when the
course of these societies was so suddenly
changed, and they refused to patronize ver-
sions which /or 7/ears had received their aid,
it was evident that new motives and prin-
ciples were controlling their operations, and
that the denomination whose translations
they had entirely and forever rejected could
no longer co-operate with them.

The case was rendered still more aggra-
vating, by the fact, that while they had
patronized versions which render baptize
and its cognates by terms signifying im-
7nersion, other versions had been as freely
patronized which render the same words by
terms which signify to sprinkle, to moisten,
to wash, ''-to throw water at any one,'' &c<

410 REASONS FOR THE FORMATION OF THE

Rev. J. S. Harris, missionary to the Seneca
Indians, translated ihe Gospel by Luke into
their language in 1830. Mr. Wright, his
successor, says the meaning of" the word
most frequently used for baptize^ is to tlirow
water at one, to sprinkle, or spatter as chil-
dren do at play, or in anger ; or to drench,
as parents among the Indians ol'ten do in
disciplining their children ; or " to pour a
stream of water on one." Other transla^
tions had been made by PaedobaptLst mis-
sionaries, no more to the purpose than this.
Such versions had been " encouraged" by
the American Bible Society, as well as
those made by Baptists. Of this we nev-
er complained. Our money and theirs was
paid into a common treasury, and we con-
sidered it no more than common justice that
the translations of all should be supported.
The different denominations, and mission-
aries who raade the translatioiis, would, as
we supposed, be responsible to God and to
mankind for them. On this principle, we
would have gladly co-operated with the
American Bible Society until all nations
should have read in " their own tongues the
wonderful works of God." But when the
ground was boldly taken, that the bible,
when it speaks of a solemn Christian ordi-
nance, should not be translated ; that the
millions of our race who have not the bible,
should read nothing of baptism, or be com-
pelled to read it in Greek, we could go no
ftirther. We here feel it our duty to " con-
tend earnestly for the faith," though the
contention should become so sharp as to
part us from those we love in this blessed
work.

But the American Bible Society has pa-
tronized versions, different from those men-
tioned, and objectionable on other grounds.
The Russian Bible, e. g. does not translate
baptizo, but substitutes for it a word which
signifies to cross; so that it would read
"Jesus made and crossed more disciples
than John." " They that received his word
gladly were crossed." " They went down
into the water, both Philip and the eunuch,
and he crossed him." This could be circu-
lated in Russian " schools and communi-
ties. But should another version read,
that " they who received his word gladly
were immersed ;" that " they went down
into the water, both Philip and the eunuch,
and he immersed him ;" the managers " do
not feel at liberty to encourage it !" Of
course, then, we who had rather be immers-
ed than crossed, must support our own
translations.*

I have frequently, of late, been reminded
of one great objection to the formation of a
new bible society. It is said that " it will
interrupt the harmony of Christian.s, and

See Judd's Review of Stewart, Appendix, p. 175.

tend more than any thing else to perpetu-
ate a needless controversy about baptism.
It can hardly be possible that a candid
man would seriously urge this objection,
after he had carefully considered it. Il'the
words in question are not to be translated ;
if they are to be transferred into all the lan-
guages of the heathen, they will become the
subject of everlasting dispute, just as they
have been in our language. Converts will
ask their teachers what these words mean ?
Baptists will tell them they mean immer-
sion : Pfedobaptists will tell them they mean
to wet, to wo.sh, to sprinkle, or to throw wa-
ter at them. Here they will be involved in
Hat contradiction of each other. The very
Bible itself, for want of being properly
translated, will be the cause of perpetual
controversy among three-fourths of the hu-
man race, who have not yet received it.
Who can be willing to throw this " apple
of discord" among the millions of Asia?
The way to stop controversy about baptism,
is to let the bible speak for itself, and to let
all men read and obey it. To endeavor to
stop this, or any other controversy, by ob-
scuring, concealing, or witholding the truth,
is popery. The great sin of Martin Lu-
ther against " His Holiness," was, that he
translated the bible into the common lan-
guage of his country, and was for having
every body read it. The Pope opposed
this. He would have men pray in Latin,
and read no bible at all. Here the " conten-
tion became so sharp between them," that
they parted forever.

The Baptists are now committing, on a
large scale, the same sin that Martin Lu-
ther did. They are translating and prin-
ting the Bible in the different languages of
mankind, and are anxious that all the world
should read it. This they believe to be the
most effectual means to promote truth, sup-
press error, and " stop controversy." To
suppress any part of truth, to obscure it, or
in any way withhold it from the knowledge
of mankind, they believe to be the direct
way to promote error and perpetuate con-
tention. Let those brethren who introduce
among the milhons of the East the same
cause of controversy which for centuries has
distressed and divided the British and Amer-
ican churches, beware of arrogating to
themselves exclu.sively the title of "peace-
makers." Let them not " heal the hurt of
God's people slightly ; crying peace, peace,
when there is no peace," and but faint pros-
pects of it.

Another great objection to our society, is,
tliat if the bible is translated as we would
have it, all who read it will of course be-
come Baptists. On this account, it is urged
that we ought not to insist upon such a
translation ; that some how, in a spirit of
generous compromise, this point should be

AMERICAN AND FOREIGN BIBLE SOCIETY. 411

yielded, and men left free to practice im-
mersion or sprinkling as they please.

Let us look at this objection. Let it be
admitted, that if the scriptures were trans-
lated as we contend they ought to be, all
converted heathen would read and be im-
mersed. Wlmt then; Would they have
done wrong? The very men who make
tJiis objection, confess that immersion is val-
id baptism, " good and acceptable to God."
What harm would be done, then, if all the
heatlien should believe and be immersed ?
No error would be taught or practised ;
nothing wrong believed or done. What
then are the dreadful evils tliat would re-
sult from the universal practice of immer-
sion ? Does it make a man less prayerful
to immerse him tlian it does to sprinkle
him? Does it make him less spiritually
minded, less active, less liberal in the cause
of God? The men who make the objec-
tion, do not pretend this. If the believing
heathen were all sprinkled, they do not pre-
tend that they would be any more holy or
useful than if they were immersed. Or if
part were sprinkled, others poured, and
others immersed, it would be no better than
if all were immersed. Let the objection
stand then, in all its force. Let it be ad-
mitted that if all men should read the Bible
ftiithfully translated, it would make "im-
mersion the only baptism." All then would
be right, our opponents being the judges.
For though they contend that something
else " will do as well," they have nothing to
propose that will do better.

Take another view of this objection. It
is now admitted on all sides that immersion
was the practice of John, of Christ, of the
Apostles, and of their successors for sever-
al hundred years. Immersion was then the

UNIVERSAL PRACTICE OF THE CHRISTIAN

CHURCH. Suppose then that our transla-
tions should make this the universal prac-
tice of the Christian Church again. The
church would then be, on this point, just
what she was in her best and purest days.
Every body would be satisfied with their
baptism. Controversy would cease. The
churches " would then have rest" from
strife and division; and "walking in the
fear of the Lord, and in the comfort of the
Holy Ghost, they would be multiplied."
Should our translations effect all this, would
they do the world an injury ? And are they
to be rejected because they have this ten-
dency? Will they make the church too
apostolic ? too much like Christ.

I will here waive any further considera-
tion of the subject in this point of view. I
hope and pray, that as we feel justified be-
fore God and mankind, in the organization
of the American and Foreign Bible Socie-
ty, we shall be united and liberal in its sup-
port. By the blessing of God, our mission-
aries have already translated the Holy

scriptures into languages spoken by more
than half the population of the globe.
They are still prayerfully and zealously en-
gaged in this responsible, yet blessed work.
We intend never to rest in this great en-
terprise, till the " Lamp of Life" shines
upon the pathway of every dweller upon
earth.

Under existing circumstances, what
ought to be the spirit by whicJi the half
million of American Baptists should be ani-
mated ? God in his holy providence, has,
by the labors of holy men, mir own breth-
ren, furnished these pure translations of the
word of life to our hands. He lias put
them into our hands in this eventful age,
and just as the way is opening for the dif-
fusion of the gospel among all nations.
What can be his design in this, unless it is
that we should, without delay, give to
mankind a pure, unaltered, unobscured bi-
ble. As the angel having the everlasting
gospel to preach to them who dwell on the
earth, is now taking his flight in the midst
of heaven, let us fill his hands with these
"most faithful" versions of the blessed
word, and bid him scatter them over the
whole earth !

I rejoice that the board of the A. &- F.
B. S. "have recently appropriated ^2500 to-
wards the publication of the Revised Edi-
tion of the Bengalee New Testament, by
Mr. Yates. So that the labors of that de-
voted missionary are not to be lost, nor the
precious word denied to thirty-two millions
of our fellow men who are ready to receive
it. This, however, is only the starting
point. These waters of life which are be-
ginning to flow, must roll on in a deeper,
broader channel, till like the waters of
Noah, they shall cover the whole earth —
not to destroy, but to save.

Could either of you present any thing
to a fellow creature in heathen darkness, it
would be the bible. This would be your
first, best gift for him. There are many
hundreds of your fellow men begging of
your missionaries for bibles, and begging
in vain, because they have none to give
them. Would you not like to put a few
more bibles into the hands of your mission-
aries, and let them give them to tlie anx-
ious heathen, who wait all night at tlie
missionary's doos, that they may be in sea-
son to ask for the precious boon in the
morning ?

A happy convert who loved his bible
said to his teacher, " How could you chris-
tians, in your country, keep this sweet hon-
ey so long among yourselves, and not send
any of it to us ?" The teacher made the
best apology he could. " But," continued
his shrewd disciple, " it was not right for
you Christians to be saying SO LONG to
each otiicr, how good this honey is ! how
SWEET this honey is 1 Why did you not

412

TERMS OP COMMUNION,

break off a piece of the sweet comb, and
Bend it to us ?"

Ye friends of the Bible and of mankind,
when in your prayers to Almighty God,
you say, " How precious is thy word unto
jne ! sweeter also than honey or the honey-

comb ?" will you think to break off" a
piece of the " sweet comb," and send it to
your perishing fellow men ? " As ye would
that men should do unto you, DO YE
EVEN SO TO THEM."

TERMS OF COMMUNION.

(CIRCULAR LETTER OF THE HUDSON RIVER ASSOCIATION,)

By S. H. CONE, D. D.

Dearly beloved brethren: — In ac-
cordance with a resolution passed at our
last annual meeting, " the terms of commu-
nion^'''' will claim your attention, as the sub-
ject of our present circular address. It is
to be regretted that the signs of the times
should ever indicate the expediency of pre-
senting this subject to your consideration,
in a controversial shape ; but since necessi-
ty is laid upon us, we desire to enter upon
its investigation with all that alacrity which
the love of revealed truth, and supreme re-
gard for Zion's King, and unyielding attach-
ment to the order of his house, are calcula-
ted to inspire.

The phrase "communion," or "fellow-
ship," is used in diHerent senses in the sa-
cred writings. It frequently denotes that
holy enjoyment of the divine presence, and
that soul comforting participation of the Re-
deemer's fulness, which it is the privilege of
believers to realize. The saints are joined
to the Lord by one Spirit ; they draw water
out of the wells of salvation ; God is their
dwelling-place in all generations ; and it is
therefore said, Truly their fellowship is with
the Father, and with his Son, Jesus Christ.
This fellowship does not necessarily stand
connected with church government or rela-
tionship ; it is neither confined to time nor
place, nor does it bend to the control of
earthly circumstances. It is felt by Jacob
with a stone for his pillow ; it drives away
the fears and pains of the thief upon the
cross ; it cheers the hearts of Paul and Silas,
though beaten with many stripes and thrust
into the inner prison ; and it converts the
desolate isle of Patmos into a paradise of
heavenly rapture. The terms of this com-
munion, all centre in the rich and distin-
guishing grace of God.

The expression is sometimes used in a
large and comprehensive sense, to describe
that fraternal affection and spiritual inter-

course, which all those who love our Lord
Jesus in sincerity and truth may righteously
maintain with each other. Individuals at-
tached to the different denominations of
Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Roman Cath-
olics, (iuakers, &c. may have g-ood reason to
entertain a favorable opinion of each other's
Christian exercises ; they may unite their
efforts to multiply and distribute copies of
the Bible, and send the gospel of salvation
to the uttermost parts of the earth ; they
may take sweet counsel together, and be
mutual helpers of each others' joy; and
their communion will be proportioned to the
evidence which the parties furnish, of main-
taining a close walk with God. If we walk
in the light, as he is in the light, we have
fellowship one with another. But as this
fellowship in the gospel is enjoyed by indi-
vidual believers who never unite with a
particular church ; as it exists in different
degrees, according to the strength of their
confidence that God has begim a good work
in the heart, without any reference to the
ordinances or regulations of his house, it is
an entirely different thing from church fel-
lowship, and is by no means to be confound-
ed therewith.

In modern phraseology the word " com-
munion," is employed, by common consent,
as expressive of that fellowship which ex-
perimental Christians have with the Sa-
viour of sinners, and with one another, in
the ordinance of the Lord's supper ; and
this use of the phrase seems to be justified
by the apostle's language, 1 Cor. x. 16,
•' The cup of blessing which we bless, is it
not the communion of the blood of Christ 1
The bread which we break, is it not the
communion of the body of Christ?" The
single point, therefore, which we have now
before us is, to answer the inquiry, What
are the indispensable terms of this comtnu-
nion ? or, in other words, what prerequisites

TERMS OP COMMUNION.

413

of admission to the Lord's supper are mark,
ed out, in the New Testament, for the ob-
servance of the churches of Christ to the
end of the world 1 To this inquiry we re-
ply, regeneration^ baptism, and a conversa-
tion such as becometh the gospel of Christ ;
and in proof of the correctness of this reply,
we appeal to the law and to the testimony.
The children of God are bound to give
thanks always to their heavenly Father, be-
cause he hath from the beginning chosen
them to salvation, through sanctification of
the Spirit, and belief of the truth, whereun-
to they are called by the gospel ; and then,
as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house,
a holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacri-
fices acceptable to God by Jesus Christ ;
and to manifest their attachment to the
laws, doctrines and ordinances, once deli-
vered to the saints. The primitive church-
es, constituted under the immediate direc-
tion of the inspired apostles, were compo-
sed of self-condemned sinners, who were by
nature children of wrath even as others ;
but being pricked in their hearts and quick-
ened by the Spirit of God, fled for refuge to
the hope set before them in the Gospel.
They believed the testimony given of God's
dear Son, and having gladly received the
truth, were baptized both men and icomen.
To the first gospel church in Jerusalem it is
said, " The Lord added daily such as should
be saved, and they continued steadfastly
in the apostles' doctrine and fellowship, and
in breaking of bread, and in prayers." The
church at Corinth consisted oi' those who
were " sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to
be saints, and who called upon the name of
Jesus Christ our Lord. The members of
the church at Colosse, had " put ofi' the old
man with his deeds, and put on the new
man, which is renewed in knowledge after
the image of him that created him :" and
the bretliren at Rome, were " the called of
Jesus Christ, beloved of God, called to be
sainis." Now if these apostolic churches
were erected upon correct principles, (and
who so contumacious or schismatic as to de-
ny it?) they are certainly to us infallible
guides, and present us with a perfect pat
tern. If they received only such as profes-
sed to be born of God, and gave evidence
that they were begotten again to a lively
hope, by the ressurrection of Jesus Christ
from the dead, we should imitate their ex-
ample ; " and if there come any unto us and
bring not this doctrine," we are commanded
" not to receive him into our house, neither
bid him God speed ;" for he that biddeth
him God speed ; that is, he that welcometh
to the privileges of the church, " him that
abideth not in the doctrine Christ, is parta-
ker of his evil deeds." It is therefore an
estabhshed principle in Baptist churches to
require of all candidates for admission, a
declaration of what God hath done for their

souls ; and when satisfactory evidence of a
" change of heart" is exhibited, the first
scriptural term of communion, is elicited by
the church. Should this fundamental prin-
ciple ever be abandoned, we hesitate not to
say, the fine gold will become dim, the glory
will depart from us, and the vengeance of
Him who walketh in the midst of the golden
candlesticks may be justly apprehended.

That baptism is a "term of communion,"
is manifest from the design and order of
that ordinance, as well as from the uniform
practice of the apostles.

It is the design of baptism, among other
important particulars, to exhibit the exist-
ence of a new relationship, and to declare
to all around, the interesting fact that the
individual baptized has come out from
the world and enlisted under the banner of
Christ. In this view of the subject, it is not
merely the answer of a good conscience to-
wards God, but it is also a grateful and
public recognition of that grand line of dis-
tinction which the Redeemer has establish-
ed between the " kingdom of darkness," and
that " kingdom which is not of this world.
For as many as have been baptized into
Christ, have put on Christ." Gal. iii. 27.
" Therefore we are buried with him by bap-
tism into death, that like as Christ was rais-
ed up from the dead by the glory of the
Father, even so we also should walk in
newness of hfe." Rom. vi. 4. As it is evi-
dent that a man must enter into the king-
dom, before he can be entitled to the immu-
nities of a subject ; that he must he received
into the fellowship of a particular church,
before he can enjoy the privileges of that
church ; even so, it is equally plain, that
baptism, upon profession of faitli in the Mes-
siah, must remain an indispensable term of
communion, until it can be proved that un-
baptized persons were added to the church-
es planted by the apostles in different parts
of the world. And this will appear yet
more abundantly if we consider,

The order which is uniformly observed
in the New Testament, with reference to
Baptism and the Lord's supper. When the
Great Head of the church sent forth his
ministering servants to build up his king-
dom in our ruined world, he gave them com-
mission in the following words ; Go ye there-
fore and teach all nations, baptizing them
in the name of the Father and of the Son,
and of the Holy Ghost, — teaching them to
observe all things 7chaisoever I have com-
manded, you. The language is lucid and
definite. It directed them^rs^ to teach, or,
as it is elsewere expressed, to preach the
Gospel to every creature. When the word
preached was accompanied by an unction
from the Holy One, men were made wise
unto salvation ; they were effectually taught;
they were made disciples ; and then, and
not till then, were the apostles commanded

TERMS OF COMMUNION.

to baptize them. After this, they were to
instruct them to observe all things enjoined
upon them by tlie Saviour ; and among the
all things, who dare deny to the Lord's sup-
3ier a place ? Since the Redeemer has suf-
ficient wisdom to devise the most suitable
ordinances, either for the comfort of his
people, or as a test of tlieir obedience ; and
since all power is given him to make laws
in Zion, and fix the order of their observ-
ance ; to his authority all Christians should
certainly submit. But it is plain that bap-
tism must precede the communion, not on-
ly because the Lord Christ hath so decreed,
but because this order is necessary in the
very nature of things, if there be an adapta-
tion of tlie sign to the thing signified. We
must first be made alive, before we need
bread to sustain life ; and in like manner,
the ordinance which shadows forth the
washing of regeneration and the renewing
of the Holy Ghost, must of necessity, go
before that which holds out to us in a figure
the bread which came down from heaven,
whereof if a man eat, he shall live for ever.

That this statement is correct, we most
assuredly gather from the unvarying prac-
tice of the apostles tliemselves.

The preaching of Peter, upon a certain
notable occasion, produced such an aston-
ishing effect that thousands cried out, Men
and brethren what shall we do to be saved ?
The preacher promptly replies, Repent and
be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ,
for the remission of sins. What follows ?
They that gladly receive the word were
BAPTIZED. After baptism they were added
to the church in Jerusalem, and then, par-
ticipated in the communion, or the breaking
of bread.

The conduct of Paul was precisely simi-
lar to that of his brother Peter. He came
to Corinth, and taught the word of God
among its inhabitants. Many of the Co'
rinthians hearing, believed and were bap-
tized. These baptized believers were then
constituted into a gospel church, and kept
the ordinance of the Lord's Supper as de-
livered to them by the apostle. Acts xviii.
1 Cor. ii. 2. If therefore, the uniform prac-
tice of the apostles justly challanges our
imitation, we must inviolably adhere to the
order which they have established.

The last term of church communion we
have named, is a godly walk and conver-
sation ; and this position is easily main-
tained, both upon the principles of reason
and revelation. The children of God are
holy brethren ; a royal priesthood — a pecu-
liar people, zealous of good works. This
description of them is given by one who
cannot err ; and it would certainly be incon-
gruous and unnatural for such persons to
be unequally yoked together with unbeliev-
ers. How can two walk together except

they be agreed ? What communion hath
light with darkness and what fellowship
hatii Christ with Belial ? are questions
which need no comment; — they answer
themselves. In extending tJie right hand
of fellowship, therefore, a church must be
satisfied that the individual soliciting ad-
mission has scriptural views of himselT^ and
of God, and of the way of salvation by
Christ alone, and of the work of the Spirit,
and of the holy tendency of divine truth ;
and hence we are directed to mark and
avoid those whose erroneous sentiments
cause divisions and offences contrary to
the doctrine which we have learned. Rom.
xvi. Moreover the canditate for church
communion must not only converse about
the things of God in a proper manner, but
his deportment must correspond with his ho-
ly profession. If any man that is called a
brother, be a fornicator, or covetous, or an
idolater, or a railer, or a drunkard, or an
extortioner, we must not keep company
with such an one, no not to eat. 1 Cor. v.
11. and that course of conduct which cuts
off from the church one who is already a
member, must be, by parity of reasoning,
an unsurmountable obstacle against admis-
sion to its privileges.

Our sentiments with reference to the
terms of communion, have, in different ages
and countries, occasioned the opprobrious
epithets of " bigoted, uncharitable, self-
righteous," &c. to be heaped upon us with
an unsparing hand ; but these are weak
and powerless weapons when employed
against those who are armed with the
sword of the Spirit, in defence of a divine
institution. We shall close this epistle by
replying briefly to some of the most plausi-
ble objections which are constantly urged
against the sentiments we have advanced.

First objection. " Yoil lay too much
stress upon baptism by viaking it an indis-
pensable term of communion.

To this we reply ; We pay no greater
regard to it, nor do we give it a higher
place in our system, than the Lord Christ
hath enjoined, or the apostles and primitive
Christians, by their example, have war-
ranted. And here we may ask, why should
more stress be laid upon the Lord's supper
than upon baptism ; and why should many
professing Christians so earnesdy advocate
the observance of the former, while they
pervert, or entirely neglect the latter ?
Were not both ordinances instituted by the
same Lord, and do they not, therefore,
come to us clothed with the same authori-
ty 1 We know that Panlobaptists are in
the habit of calling baptism a nonessen-
tial; an external rite; a mere ceremony ;
&c. If this be true, we would inquire, what
more is the supper ? Is it a Saviour 1 But
if these sacred institutions, be indeed as we

TERMS OP COMMUNION.

415

believe, signs of important and essential
truths, baptism is unquestionably as signi-
ficative as the breaking of bread, and exhib-
its, emblematically, a large proportion of
the distinguishing doctrines of the gospel.
Upon an investigation of the New Tes-
tament, we find that baptism, of the two,
is much the more frequently mentioned,
and baptized believers are affectionate-
ly and repeatedly exhorted, so to walk in
Christ Jesus their Lord, as in that ordi-
nance they have put him on. Taking then
the Holy Book as our only and all suffi-
cient rule of faith and practice, we have
the highest authority for saying, We give
to baptism, which Christ appointed as the
first gospel institute, as a test of his child-
ren's obedience, and a lively emblem of
their renewal by the Holy Ghost, exactly
the situation which the master of the house
has designated ; and with a thus saith the
Lord, sounding in our ears and penetrating
our hearts, it is not possible that we should
listen to the doctrines or commandments of
men.

A second objection, charges us with cau
sing a separation between the children of
the same Heavenly Father.

Suppose we grant that baptism is an in-
superable barrier in the way of our com
muning, in church capacity, with unbaptiz
ed persons ; does it necessarily result from
this concession, that the blame righteously
attaches itself to the skirts of our garment ?
Shall those who understand and keep the
ordinances, in their nature, order, and de
sign, as they were originally delivered to
the churches, be condemned'? and those
who depart from them, and embrace a " fig-
ment of their own imagination," be justifi-
ed 7 God forbid ! We hesitate not to say.
most implicitly, that baptism is a separa-
ting line, but it is one of the Lord's own
making, and we endeavor constantly
both by preaching and example, to en-
lighten the minds of our Pagdobaptist
friends on the subject. We warn them of
their errors ; we hold up to them the truth ;
we point them definitely to chapter and
verse ; and we exhort every believer
among them, quite as often as they wish to
hear us, to arise and be baptized and wash
away their sins, (in a figure,) calling upon
the name of the Lord. We are honest and
sincere in these declarations, and in making
them thus plainly, it must be evident to the
candid and judicious, that we cannot have
any by-ends, or measures of mere expedien
cy to promote. We wish the truth, and
the truth alone as it is in Jesus, every where
to prevail ; and we are grieved in heart,
that those whom we respect and love on so
many other accounts, should, in this partic
ular, persist in treading the patlivvay of dis-
obedience, boldly rejecting the counsel ol'
God in not being baptized accordijig to his

commandment. If our veracity and Chris-
tian affection, touching this whole matter,
be unjustly called in question, we are per-
mitted to adopt the language of a Baptist,
and say: Our rejoicing is this, the testimo-
ny of our conscience, that in simplicity and
godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom but
by the grace of God, we have had our con-
versation in the world, and more abundant-
ly to youward. 2 Cor. i. 12.

A third objection states, that it is the
Lord's table, and therefore we have no right
to hinder those who wish to approach it.

Tiiat it is the Lord's table, is the appro-
priate and sufficient answer to this objec-
tion. Were it ours, we might cheerfully
admit to it the objector and his friends ;
but since it is confessedly the Lord^s ta-
ble, we dare welcome to it only such as he
invites. The disciples were baptized be-
fore Christ instituted and administered to
them the supper. John the Baptist was
sent to prepare a people for the Lord, and
the disciples were evidently among the
number of those who justify God ; and if so,
they must have been necessarily baptized
with the baptism of John ; otherwise they
could not have been obedient hearers and
doers of the word, and imitators of the ex-
ample of their Lord and master. Luke vii.
29. Matt. iii. 23, 17. 1 Peter, ii. 21. In
perfect conformity with this view.of the sub-
ject, are the words of Peter : " Wherefore
of these men which have compained with
us, all the time that the Lord Jesus went in
and out among us, beginning from the
BAPTISM OF John, unto that same day that
he was taken up from us, must one be or-
dained to be a witness with us of his resur-
rection." Acts i. 21, 22. Here we learn
that Peter and his brethren began their
Christian profession at the baptism of John,
and hence the inference is irresistable, that
there were none but Baptists with our Lord
when he gave them the bread and cup, and
said. Do this in remembrance of me. As
the sacred oracles, therefore, vmiformly
teach that Christians, in the apostles' days,
were baptized before they came together in
one place for the breaking of bread, we are
confirmed in the sentiment, that the only
guests invited to partake of this feast arc
such as have been, upon profession of their
faith, buried with Christ in baptism ; nor
can we approach the table with the unbap-
tizcd, without acting in direct opposition to
the precept and example of Him, in whom
are hid all the treasures of wisdom and
knowledge.

A fourth objection is presented in this
shape : IVe comcientiously believe ourselves
to be baptized ; you are not the judge ; to
our own master we stand or fall.

This objection brings us at .once to the
question, What Is Christian Baptism? Is
it sprinkling, or is it pouring? With the

416

TERMS OF COMMUNION,

New Testament in our hands, we most con-
fidently and unhesitatingly answer, neither.
It is immersion in the name of the Ftxther
and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. And
here we cannot but say to our cavelling
friend, when were you baptized ? " In in-
fancy." Are unconscious babes, or the un-
believing, unprofessing seed of pious pa-
rents proper subjects of baptism ? Wheth-
er men will hear or whether they will for-
bear, upon the testimony of God we are
obliged to answer, no. These things were
not so in the beginning ; for it is written,
" Then they that gladly received the word
were baptized ;" Acts 2. And the Jailor
was baptized, he and all his, straightway,
and rejoiced, believing in God with all his
house. Acts xvi. Consequently those who
beheve and rejoice in Christ Jesus are, ac-
cording to the scriptures, the only persons
to whom we are authorized to administer
the ordinance of baptism. But we are told
that whether Psedobaptists have perverted
Christian baptism, both in its design and
subjects, or not, we have no right to judge.
This is equivalent to saying that an indi-
vidual ought to be admitted to church fel-
lowship because he thinks himself entitled
to that privilege, without reference to the
opinion which the church may entertain up-
on the subject. It requires no argument to
prove the obscurity of this position. To
adopt it would speedily ultimate in the dis-
solution of any society. That there must
be an agreement in sentiment between a
church and a candidate for admission to its
privileges ; and that the church must ne-
cessarily judge of the candidate's qualifica'
'tions, are both self-evident and scriptural
truths. Since- Christ then has command-
ed us to hold fast till he come, and to con-
tend earnestly for the faith once delivered
to the saints, we are under the most sacred
obligations to exhort one another daily;
to warn the unruly, to look diligently lest
any man fail of the grace of God ; and to
be very careful, not only to venerate his
institutions ourselves, but also that they be
observed in their purity, by all such as so-
licit communion with us at the table of the
Lord.

A fifth objection, viz : That the saints
will all commune together in Heaven, and
ought therefore to do so on earth, is thought
to be a very strong one, but really we are
not able to perceive its force. We rejoice
in the anticipation of that perfect union
and uninferrupted lellowship,Avhicli the gen-
eral assembly and rhurch of the first born.

whose names are written in Heaven, shall,
to all eternity, enjoy ; but whatever may be
the terms of communion in the world of glo-
ry, we are fully persuaded that while here,
the revealed will of Christ, and not what
shall take place after death, should be the
only man of our counsel, a lamp to our feet,
and a light to our path; and we are equal-
ly certain, that when we see Jesus as he is,
and love him as we ought, the least of hia
commandments will not be esteemed either
trifling or nonessential.

The last objection which our limits will
allow us to notice, supposes that strict com-
munion is inconsistent with brotherly love
and Christian forbearance.

By adverting to the distinction made in
the commencement of this letter, between
communion with God, our fellow-Christians,
and a particular church, this objection will
be stripped of all its difficulties. It will there
be seen that real believers may hold con-
verse with the Deity, and love each other as
brethren in the Lord, without walking to-
gether in church relationship. The Bap-
tists differ from all others in their views of
a Gospel Church, and the scriptural quali-
fications for admission to its privile§;gs ; but
these views we believe to be coincidej^t with
the directions of the Saviour, and the ex-
ample of apostles and primitive Christians
and having maintained them in the,
face of persecution, danger, and death,
from the days of Paul to the present mo-
ment, we cannot abandon them, until con-
vinced that we have hitherto misapprehend-
ed altogether the language of the New Tes-
tament. Nor can this course of conduct be
righteously construed into a breach of
brotherly love and Christian forbearance,
until it can be proved that we ought to love
men more than we love God, and that the
charity which rejoiceth not in iniquity, but
rejoiceth in the truth, requires us to disre-
gard the commandments and dispense with
the ordinances of our Lord and Saviour,
Jesus Christ.

Finally, brethren. Farewell ! Adhere
steadfastly to the doctrines and ordinances
of Christ, as he hath delivered them to us ;
and as there is one body and one spirt, even
as ye are called in one hope of your calling ;
one Lord, one faith, one baptism, so ice be-
seech you, thai ye walk worthy of the voca-
iion wherewith ye are called, with all lowli-
ness and meekness, with long suffering, for-
bearing one another in love ; ejuleavoring
to keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of
peace. The Lord be with you all, Amen.

\»

Iff r^j

A- : , ^ ^ ^^

* , -^ . ■ *

OREGON
RULE
CO.

U.SJ.

Section.

Jiry-^

/9'y.M.y\j<^Gjt^cry^-^

MEMOEIAL

SEMI-CENTENNIAL ANNIVEESAET

AMERICAN Colonization Society,

CELEBRATED AT WASHINGTON,

JANUARY 16, 1867.

WITH DOCUMENTS CONCERNING LIBERIA.

WASHINGTON:

COLONIZATION SOCIETY BUILDING.

MDCCCLXVII.

PUBLISHED BY ORDER OF THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS.

BOSTON :
COKXHILL PRESS. CEO. C. RAND & AVERT.

PEE FACE.

The Board of Directors of the American Colonization So
ciety, at their meeting holden at Washington, Jan. 17, 1866
appointed William V. Pettit, Esq., of Philadelphia, the Hon
D. S. Gregory, of New Jersey, the Rev. John Orcutt, D.D.
one of the Secretaries of the Society, and William Tracy
Esq., of New York, " to act in co-operation with the Execu
tive Committee, in making arrangements for the semi-centen
nial anniversary of the Society." In consultation with them
the Executive Committee made the arrangements according
to which the exercises of the Fiftieth Annual Meeting of the
Society, Jan. 15, 1867, were conducted.

At their meeting the next day, Jan. 16, 1867, the Board of
Directors adopted resolutions, tendering their thanks to the
several speakers who had addressed the Society the previous
evening, and requesting copies of their addresses for publi-
cation ; tendering thanks to the authors of the communica-
tions received from Liberia ; directing that the proceedings
of that evening be published in a volume, in suitable style,
as a memorial of the Fiftieth Anniversary of the Society ;
and requesting the Rev. Joseph Tracy, D.D., to take charge
of and superintend the publication.

IV TKEFACE.

For the satisfaction of those who would understand Liberian
mind and character, the editor has subjoined, in an appendix,
the Declaration of Independence and Constitution of the Re-
public of Liberia, the Address of the Convention that formed
the Constitution, the first Inaugural Address of its first Presi-
dent, and the last Annual Message of President Warner. The
reader will readily perceive, in these documents, the results
of much careful and successful study, but no servile imitation,
of American State Papers of similar character. No candid
man, after reading them, can doubt the capacity of colored
men, with suitable training and experience, for the manage-
ment of public affairs. The reader will notice with interest
the difference in style, as the different occasions required,
between President Warner's Address at the Annual Meeting
and his Annual Message. That Address is printed from the
author's elegant manuscript, with no correction except two or
three evident slips of the pen. The others are reprints from
Liberian printed copies.

There is also appended a list, complete so far as is known,
of the names of all persons who have been authorized to act as
chief magistrates in any of the colonies which now constitute
the Republic of Liberia. Their dates have been given, so far
as they could be ascertained. In the earlier stages of the en-
terprise, changes and vacancies from death, disease, and other
causes, were frequent ; communications were infrequent, and
information, coming from agents worn down by sickness and
labor, often imperfect and indefinite. Hence, appointments
were sometimes made hypothetically, and the time of one

PEEFACE. V

agent is partially or wholly included within that of another.
Agents of the Government of the United States for the care
of recaptured Africans had no authority, from that appoint-
ment, to act as agents of the Society, or magistrates of the
Colony. Yet, by a mutual understanding, the agents of the
Government and the Society appear to have performed each
other's duties when necessary, and often the same person was
appointed to both offices. The names of the Government's
agents are therefore included in the list, but are distinguished
by a different type. For similar reasons, the names of most
of the physicians appointed and sent out in the earlier years
of the Colony have been included.

And, finally, there is appended a table of emigrants settled
in Liberia by the Society, with the year, month, and name of
the vessel in which they sailed, and the State from which
they emigrated. Were it desirable, this table might be en-
larged, by giving the name, age, occupation, previous condi-
tion as bond or free, education, and religious profession, if
any, of every emigrant ; but the particulars given seem to be
enough.

It will be observed that this table does not include Afri-
cans recaptured from slave-traders and sent to Liberia at the
expense of the United States, though many of them were
delivered into the care of the Society in American ports, and
conveyed to Liberia in the Society's vessels.

In a work like this, a complete account, historical and statis-
tical, of the Society and its Colony, could not be given. It is
hoped, however, that the selection and treatment of topics is

VI PREFACE.

such, that the careful and friendly reader will be able to un-
derstand and appreciate the general character of the enter-
prise in which the Society is engaged.

Thanks are due, and are cordially tendered, to the Hon. J.
H. B. Latrobe, President of the Society, and to the Hon. G.
Washington Warren, of the Board of Directors, for valuable
suggestions and advice, and to William Coppinger, Esq.,
Corresponding and Recording Secretary, for facts ascertained
by careful and laborious researches among ancient records
and correspondence.

CONTENTS.

Minutes of the Fiftieth Annual Meeting
Address of President Latrobe .
Selections from the Annual Report
Address of President Warner .
Dr. Tracy's Historical Discourse
Address of Bishop Clark ....

PAGE.

11
15
21
37
61
. 105

appp:ndix.

Declaration of Independence .
Constitution of Liberia ....
Inaugural Address of President Roberts
Annual Message of President Warner .

129
133
149
162

CONTENTS. Vlll

PAGE.

Chief Magistrates of Liberia 177

Table of Emigrants 182

Cost of Colonization 191

Original Members of the Society 192

MEMO RIAL

Ol" THE

SEMI-CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY

American Colonization Society.

MEMORIAL.

The Fiftieth Annual Meeting of the American Coloni-
zation Society was holden in Trinity Church, Washing-
ton, D.C., on Tuesday, January 15, 1867.

The Hon. J. H. B. Latrobe, of Maryland, President,
called the meeting to order at thirty minutes past sev-
en o'clock, P.M. At his request, the Eev. R. R Gurley,
Honorary Secretary, invoked the divine blessing.

The President, after a brief address, called for the
Annual Report.

The Corresponding Secretary, William Coppinger,
Esq., read portions of the Annual Report. He then
presented an address, prepared for the occasion by His
Excellency, Daniel B. Warner, President of the Repub-
lic of Liberia, and " Reflections on the Return of the
Anniversary of the American Colonization Society," by
Henry W. Johnson, Attorney and Counsellor at Law in
that republic. These could not be read for want of
time.

The Rev. Joseph Tracy, D.D., of Massachusetts, pre-

12 AMERIC^VN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

sented and read portions of a Historical Discourse
on the Rise and Progress of the Society.

The Rt. Rev. Thomas M. Clark, D.D., of Rhode Island,
delivered the Semi-centennial Address.

The Rev. John Maclean, D.D., of New Jersey, then
pronounced the benediction, and the Society adjourned.

The addresses at the Annual Meeting are given in
their order on the subsequent pages.

ADDRESS

HON. JOHN H. B. LATROBE.

ADDRESS OF HON. JOHN H. B. LATROBE,

PRESIDENT OF THE AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

Members of the^ American Colonization Society,
Ladies and Gentlemen :

In calling the meeting to order, the Chair has not for-
gotten that the Fiftieth Anniversary of the American
Colonization Society has been reached.

The Fiftieth Anniversary ! Half a century of existr
ence ! And yet it seems but a few years since the
speaker, then a mere schoolboy, attracted by the lights
of a church in Georgetown, peered at nightfall upon a
meeting which Francis S. Key was addressing, and
where, in all probability, Mercer and Clay and Ran-
dolph and Harper and Caldwell and Worthington
were present. Dim candles, it is recollected, in tin
sconces, lighted up the assembly. To the schoolboy's
intelligence, the only interest of the scene was in the
familiar voice and the gathered crowd. Of the subject
of discussion, nothing was understood, save, as re-
ported at home, that Mr. Key, a well-known friend, was
talking about Africa. Circumstances fix this incident

IG AMEBTCAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

in 1816* half a century ago. How idly would the
schoolboy not have regarded any promise then made
to him, that he would live to preside at the semi-cen-
tennial anniversary of the Society whose feeble be-
ginnings he had just witnessed without comprehending
them ! And now, how profoundly grateful should not
the recipient of so high an honor be, not only to those
whose choice gave him the seat which he occupies to-
night, but most especially to Him by whose mercy,
while others younger and better have fallen, he has
been spared to witness the seed, planted in 1816, ger-
minate, and send forth a tree, which, through winters of
discouragement and summers of prosperity, has grown
until it has attracted the attention of the nations, and
has a nation sheltered beneath its branches !

Fifty years ! And such years ! Of what other fifty
years has history told the same wondrous tale ? They
commenced while the thunder of European wars and of
our second contest with Great Britain still echoed
in our ears. Wearied with the march of battle, the
world was resting and gaining strength for a yet
grander march, — the march of progress. How aston-
ishing the facts of these fifty years ! How extraordinary
their developments !

In 1816, there were but three steamboats on the
Hudson, and but three west of the Alleghanies. In
1867, where are they not? In 1816, the postage of a
letter from Washington to Baltimore was ten cents ; to
Philadelphia, twelve ; to New York, eighteen ; and to

ADDRESS OF HON. JOHN H. B. LATROBE. 17

New Orleans, twenty-five. Now the postage to San
Francisco is but three cents; and the telegraph has
made communication with these places as instantaneous
as the thoughts to be communicated.

In 1816, if the winds favored, a letter from America
reached Europe in three weeks; if adverse, in six.
Now, the Secretary of State sends to our minister in
Paris what the Emperor of the French receives within
the hour that saw it written in Washington. In 1816,
it was the labor of days to travel from the capital to
New York. Impatient at the nine hours now occupied,
the public desire a still more rapid transit. Railroads
cover the land as with a net, and are already penetrat-
ing the wilderness at the rate of a mile of construc-
tion daily, on their route to the Pacific. In 1816, we
were staggering under a war-debt of but a few mil-
lions. Now we are paying off a war-debt of more than
two thousand millions, at the rate of two hundred mil-
lions annually.

If to these comparisons were to be added the im-
provements in science and the arts, hours would be re-
quired for the enumeration.

Progress in science, progress in art, progress in all
the appliances of human comfort, have signalized the
half century whose close we this night commemorate.

But, of all that has been referred to, nothing has
been more grand in conception, more wonderful in exe-
cution, or of more promising results, than African colo-
nization. Grand in conception, because it solves the

18 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

problem presented by the presence in the same land of
two races, both free, that cannot amalgamate by inter-
marriage. Wonderful in execution, because with the
humblest means, without the patronage of Government,
and with few better materials than ignorant free ne-
groes and emancipated slaves, it has built up a republic
holding an honorable rank in the family of nations,
with churches and schools, with free institutions mod-
elled after our own, and already attracting to it the de-
scendants of those who, brought naked and helpless
from Africa, acquired here the religion and civilization
with which their children are returning, clothed as with
bright raiment, to their ancestral home. More promis-
ing of results, because its agencies are at work, not
for the welfare of one people only, but for two quar-
ters of the globe itself, benefiting America, blessing Af-
frica ; obviating; in the one an otherwise inevitable
strife, securing in the other the fulfilment of prophecy ;
illuminating the latter, without diminishing the lustre of
the former ; blessed of the Almighty in its progress,
and finding, in an almost miraculous success, encourage-
ment in the belief that his hand will support it to the
end.

PORTIONS

FIFTIETH ANNUAL REPORT.

PORTIONS OF THE FIFTIETH ANNUAL EEPOET,

READ AT THE ANNUAL MEETING.

The American Colonization Society commemorates
the Semi-Centennial Anniversary of its formation.
Profound thanks are offered to God for marked pro-
gress in its noble work, and for the wider field of activi-
ty opened, and that its labors during the year just
closed have been more extended and beneficial than for
many years past.

Since the last meeting, seven more of the Vice-Presi-
dents of the Society have been removed. The first who
was called away was James Boorman, Esq., of New York,
a liberal giver to promote the benevolent enterprises
of the times, and a model of Christian integrity and
judgment. Following him, in rapid succession, were
Lieut.-Gen. Winfield Scott, whose goodness of heart
and humanity shone not less brightly than his military
genius and love of country ; Dr. Thomas Hodgkin, of
London, who spent his life in the service of his fellow-
creatures of all races, and was universally esteemed for
his consistency of character and the utter unselfishness

22 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

of his devotion to this and every good cause ; William
W. Seaton, Esq., long an active and highly-prized mem-
ber of the Executive Committee of this Society,' and its
public advocate and defender, who has left behind him a
bright example of disinterested benevolence ; Gen. John
H. Cocke, of Virginia, for many years spared as the
senior Vice-President of the Society, and who had fer-
vently labored for his servants by furnishing the facili-
ties for their spiritual improvement, and the settlement
of some, and the preparation of others to enjoy their
freedom in Liberia ; Daniel Chandler, Esq., of Alabama,
justly held in high esteem for his piety and philan-
thropic character ; and Commodore Robert F. Stock-
ton, of New Jersey, eminent for civic acquirements and
naval renown, and for intrepidity in meeting and suc-
cessfully surmounting the bitter opposition of the na-
tives, and in securing the territory upon which has
arisen Monrovia, the capital city of the Liberian Re-
public.

It is fitting here to notice the great loss sustained by
the Society in the decease of John P. Crozer, Esq., of
Pennsylvania, a man of rare generous sympathies and
abounding liberality, long identified with the religious
and charitable institutions of the country. Bound to
our cause by the heroic dedication and sacrifice of a
younger brother, — Dr. Samuel A. Crozer, who was the
first agent and physician appointed by the Society, and
who sailed with the first company of emigrants de-
spatched to Western Africa, — he was always much

FIFTIETH ANNUAL REPORT. 23

interested in our labors and progress, and frequently
attended and participated in the deliberations of the
Board of Directors, where he was distinguished by a
sound judgment, catholic disposition, uniform courtesy,
and genuine kindness. By his will, he made provision
for the promotion of the purposes of our organization
to the extent of five thousand dollars.

Death has also removed from the ranks of the pai^
rons and efficient friends of the Society, Francis Hall,
Esq., of New York ; William Crane, Esq., of Baltimore ;
and Hon. Abraham Hanson, the first Commissioner and
Consul-General of the United States to Liberia, whose
address at our last annual meeting was full of interest
and encourao-ement.

In the departure of these constant and able advo-
cates of the cause of African colonization, the members
and friends of the Society are admonished of the uncer-
tainty of all human supports, and of the necessity of
arousing themselves to higher efforts in the light of the
ever-shining glory of these excellent and lamented
men.

To accommodate the numerous applicants for passage
and settlement in Liberia, and in view of the great
economy and pressing necessity of having a vessel of
our own, adapted to our wants, it was determined to
purchase, in September last, the ship " Golconda," 1016
tons, or 303 tons larger than the packet " Mary Caro-

24 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

line Stevens," whose place she takes in the service of the
Society between this country and Liberia.

The purchase was not effected until after a thorough
examination of the markets for vessels on charter or for
sale. She was secured at a very reasonable price for
cash. To Dr. James Hall is the Society indebted for the
selection, purchase, and fitting out of this ship.

The "Golconda" was purchased and provisioned at
Boston, and sailed thence, on Saturday, Oct. 20, for
Charleston, S.C., as the nearest and most convenient
port for the embarkation of the expected emigrants.
On the afternoon of Wednesday, Nov. 21, being the
first day of high water on the bar after her arrival at
Charleston, she was towed safely out to sea and set sail
for Liberia.

She started with exactly six hundred emigrants on
board, of whom 194 were from Macon, Ga. ; 167 from
Newberry, S.C. ; 144 from Knoxville, Tenn. ; 52 from
Charleston, S.C. ; and 43 from Columbia, S.C. Of these,
206 are to settle at Sinou, 181 at Carysburg, 155 at
Cape Mount, and 58 at Cape Palmas.

A large proportion of the emigrants are professors of
religion ; of whom it is known that 70 are Methodists,
56 are Baptists, 13 are Presbyterians, and 2 are Epis-
copalians. Among them is a regularly organized
church, — " The Macon Baptist Church of Smou County,
Liberia," — consisting of pastor, two deacons, and twen-
ty-six members.

A high degree of intelligence is shown, in that 77 can

FIFTIETH ANNUAL REPORT. 25

read, 20 can both read and write, and 2 have had the
advantao;es of a collegiate education.

The trades or occupations are represented by 78
farmers, 33 laborers, 15 carpenters, 13 shoemakers, 9
bricklayers, 9 blacksmiths, 4 wheelwrights, 3 coopers, 3
tailors, 2 millers, 2 cooks, 1 iron-moulder, 1 silversmith,
1 ginmaker, 1 waterman, 1 gunsmith, 1 engineer, 1
goldsmith, 1 dentist, and 1 photographer.

The " Golconda " had five cabin passengers, among
whom are the venerable Rev. John Seys, for the past
thirty years identified with the interests of Liberia and
of the cause of African colonization, now returning as
Minister-Resident and Consul-General of the United
States to that Republic ; and Rev. H. W. Erskine, son
of one of the most estimable colored ministers who ever
went to the African coast, who was educated in Liberia,
entered the ministry, and is now Attorney-General of
that rising State. This was his first visit to the land of
his birth, made in part to take with him an aged sister
and her husband, with their children, grandchildren, and
great-grandchildren lately made free, and now joyfully
accompanying him.

Since the departure of the " Golconda " from Boston,
applications have been received with the names of 78
persons at Winnesboro', S.C. ; 25 at Lagrange, Ga. ;
78 at Columbus, Ga. ; 178 at Newberry, S.C. ; and
291 at Mullins Depot, S.C: in all, 642 for passage to
Liberia. Companies are known to be forming, each
promising to be at least 150 strong, at Macon, Ga. ; at

26 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

Florence, S.C. ; at Apalacliicola, Fla. ; and at Newbern,
N.C. ; while smaller parties have applied from other
places, among which may be named Edenton, N.C, and
Albemarle County, Ya., all hoping to set sail the com-
ing spring for " Fatherland."

Inquiries for information about Liberia, and how to
get there, continue to reach the office of the Society,
showing that multitudes are using the means, which
they never had before, of learning the actual condition
and real promise of a country which appeals to them
with its ancestral claims, and offers them such advan-
tages as they can hope to obtain nowhere else on the
face of the earth.

It is to be distinctly understood that each and all of
the movements which resulted in the unusually large
emigration by the " Golconda," and those just referred to,
were, and are, purely local and spontaneous. The peo-
ple sought the Society in each and every instance.

Ought not these people also to be helped ? Shall
we close our hands against those who prefer a home in
Liberia, and seek of us the needful aid ? If they desire
and choose to go to Africa, is it not our duty to aid
and encourage them to do so ? Can we, in any better
way, repay them for their services, or make amends for
the past, than by restoring them to their long-lost her-
itage in their fatherland ? And shall w^e fail to supply
Africa with intelligent Christian industry in the persons
of her own offspring ?

FIFTIETH ANNUAL REPORT. 27

'"As teachers, missionaries, and colonies, they will go self-moved ;
and the waves of the Atlantic, that heard the wail and the groans
from the hold of the slave-shij^, will yet resound with the song,
the psalm, and the prayer, from the lips of colored people re-
turning to found empire and Christian civilization in Africa. How
vast, then, are the results of the problem of the colored people in
America! They involve all sections and populations here, and ex-
tend their influence over two continents. Such a problem may
well claim the sympathy and thought of the nation."

In his last annual message, President Warner thus
dwells upon the advantages which Liberia is offering to
the people of color : —

" On the subject of immigration, we cannot but feel a deep inter-
est. Our need of population is immediate and urgent. Our im-
mense resources cannot be developed ; the fruits of the earth,
spontaneously produced, cannot be gathered ; the fat of the land
cannot be made available, — simply for the want of minds and hands
to engage in the necessary operations. Surely, with the vast la-
tent capabilities of this country, we have the ability to become a
power by no means to be despised in the agricultural and com-
mercial world.

"We have again and again invited our friends in the United
States to come over and help us to fill up the vast solitudes, which
for centuries have remained uninhabited; while they, in exile in
the Western Hemisphere, are jostled and elbowed and trampled
upon by an oppressive race. But my hopes are as strong as ever,
and my confidence remains unshaken in the destiny of Liberia.
She is yet to be the asylum for the oppressed American negro, and
a beacon for the guidance of the benighted tribes of this continent.
I may not be able to predict the methods by which Africa's exiled
sons are to be restored to her bosom ; but I feel certain such an
occurrence will in some way or other take ])lace."

28 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

Rev. Edward W. Blyden, lately Secretary of State of
Liberia, and now Fulton Professor of Languages in Li-
beria College, on a recent occasion said : —

" Any one who has travelled at all in Western Africa, especially
in the interior of Liberia, and has seen how extensive and beauti-
ful a country, marvellously fertile, lies uninhabited, with its at-
tractive and perennial verdure overspreading the hills and val-
leys, cannot but come to the conclusion that this beauteous do-
main is in reserve for a people who are to come and cultivate it ;
and we can see no people so well {irepared and adapted for this
work as the negroes of the United States.

" Afi-ica will, without doubt, be the final home and field of opera-
tion for thousands if not millions of them. And the powerful
agency that will thus be brought into that land, — of fimily influ-
ences, and the diversified appliances of civilized life in the various
mechanical, agricultural, commercial, and civil operations, will rap-
idly renovate the spirit and character of the Afiican communities;
and whole tribes, brought under the pervading influence of Chris-
tian principles, will be incoi-porated among us. And then Anglo-
American Christianity, liberty, and law, under the j^rotection of
the Liberian flag, will have nothing to impede their indefinite
spread over that immense continent."

Liberia is gradually growing in the elements of nation-
al stability. The natural riches of that region are enor-
mous, and are such as, sooner or later, will support a
commerce to which that at present existing on the
coast is merely fractional. The Liberians own and run
a fleet of "coasters," collecting palm-oil, cam -wood,
ivory, gold-dust, and other commodities. A schooner

FIFTIETH ANNUAL REPORT. 29

of eighty tons was built, costing $11,000, and loaded
last fall at New York, from money and the proceeds of
African produce sent for that purpose by an enterpris-
ing merchant of Grand Bassa County. A firm at Mon-
rovia are having a vessel built in one of the ship-yards
of New York, to cost $15,000, which it is expected will
be ready to sail about the middle of February next.

Bishop Payne, for the past thirty years connected
with the Episcopal Mission on the West Coast of Afri-
ca, and now temporarily in this country, thus describes
what he witnessed at Monrovia on his recent homeward
voyage : —

" We enter Monrovia Roads, and find two vessels at anchor.
One, a brigantine of 137 tons, English built, is owned by Dr. S. F.
McGill and bi'others. She is commanded by Captain Kelly, Li-
berian, and a navigator. The other is a regular English brig, just
out, consigned to the firm just named, with a full cargo, and to be
loaded entirely by them. Boats are passing rapidly to and from
the shore, loaded with palm-oil and sugar. Her " lay days," or
days for loading, are forty, but she will be freighted in thirty days.
Dr. McGill ships on board of her thirty thousand gallons palm-oil
and twenty-five thousand pounds of sugar, from the St. Paul's
River.

" Just as we come to anchor, several boats come alongside the
bark ' Thomas Pope,' loaded with sugar. It is freight from Mr.
Jesse Sharp, one of the prosperous sugar-planters on the St. Paul's.
Mr. Sharp judiciously purchased a small steam sugar-mill for
$2,500, and paid for it the first year. For fourteen days we are
receiving cargo, all from Monrovia. We ship thirty-six thousand
gallons palm-oil, sixty-two tliousand pounds of sugar, near four-
teen thousand pounds of coifee, seven hundred pounds of ivory,
besides sundry smaller amounts of freight."

30 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

The same devoted laborer for the redemption of Af-
rica affords the following cheering account of what he
saw of the thrift, comfort, and progress along the St.
Paid's River, during a trip made Friday, April 20,
186G: —

"Emerging from Stockton Creek, avc feel Ave are in a civilized
country. On the riglit, in Lower Caldwell, is the neat establish-
ment of Mr. Powers. Here, too, is a modest frame building, with
quite as modest a congregation, called St. Peter's Episcopal
Church. Proceeding up the river, we saw two Baptist and Meth-
odist churches, each of brick, on either side of the river. Just op-
posite to Mr. Powers's, on the Virginia side of the river, is the neat,
home-like residence of Rev. John W. Roberts, Bishop of the Li-
beria Methodist Church. The settlement of Virginia here ex-
tends back three or four miles from the river. Above Mr. Rob-
erts's, we soon see the fine brick houses of Mr. William Black-
ledge and Rev. A. F. Russell. . Presently we come to Clay-
Ashland, where, besides Grace (Episcopal) Church, are three others.
Here are many fine brick houses, the township of Clay-Ashland
extending back four or five miles; and now we never lose sight
again of cultivated fields and comfortable brick houses. Best
amongst these are those of the Messrs. Cooper, DeCoursey, An-
derson, Howland, and Washington, sugar-planters. By the time
we reach the Gaudilla farm, we have passed four steam-mills, all
hard at work. There are many wooden mills, besides those pro-
pelled by steam. An intelligent friend has given us the following,
as an approximate estimate of the sugar crop on the St. Paul's, in
1866: Sharp, 120,000 lbs.; Cooper, 30,000 lbs.; Anderson,
35,000 lbs.; Howland, 40,000 lbs.; Roe, 30,000 lbs.; sundry small-
er farmers, 150,000 ; total, 575,000 lbs. The coffee crop also is
considerable, though we are not able to state how much."

FIFTIETH ANNUAL REPORT. 31

Several of the leading powers of the world have re-
cently given evidence of their regard for Liberia. By
order of the Emperor of Russia, a first-class Russian
frigate made a complimentary visit in January to Mon-
rovia. Sweden and Norway also sent a national vessel
on a similar errand, — the first arrivals of the armed
representatives of these two northern European nations
in the waters of the African Republic. The celebrated
ship " Kearsarge " lately called on her way home from
the Mediterranean, — the first American cruiser ordered
there since the beginning of the war. The highest
diplomatic representative accredited to Liberia is from
the United States, — the title being lately changed to
that of Minister-Resident and Consul-General. Hol-
land, and Sweden and Norway, have created consulate
officers to reside at Monrovia ; and it is expected that a
treaty of amity and commerce will soon be concluded
between Russia and Liberia.

As we close this annual record, we turn our eyes to
survey the way in which the Lord hath led us this fifty
years.

The American Colonization Society was founded in
Washington, D.C., Dec. 21, 1816, by eminent individu-
als from the several States, memorably prominent
among whom was the Rev. Robert Finley, D.D. A
Constitution was adopted at an adjourned meeting held
in the Hall of the House of Representatives on the
" following Saturday," Dec. 28, and officers elected Jan.
1, 1817. Not one, it is believed, of those who took part

32 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

in these proceedings, or of the officers chosen at the
first meeting, is living to witness its Semi-Centennial
Anniversary !

The Society has had five Presidents, viz. : —

Jan. 1, 1817, Hon. Bushrod Washington.

Jan. 18, 1830, Hon. Charles Carroll, of Carrollton.

Jan. 20, 1833, Ex-President James Madison.

Dec. 15, 1836, Hon. Henry Clay.

Jan. 19, 1853, Hon. J. H. B. Latrobe.

The whole amount of its receipts during the fifty
years has been $2,141,50777; and the State Coloniza-
tion Societies received, while acting in an independent
capacity, as nearly as we can arrive at it, $417,399.33;
making a grand total of $2,558,907.10.

The Society has given passage to 11,909 persons of
color, sent in 147 vessels or voyages ; and, what is a re-
markable providence, not one of the vessels with emi-
grants on board has been permitted to bew recked or
lost ! Of these people, 4,541 were born free, 344 pur-
chased their freedom, 5,957 were emancipated for the
purpose of going to Liberia, the status of 68 is un-
known, 346 were sent, in 1865, from Barbadoes, W.I.,
and 753 of the class popularly known as"freedmen"
have left this country since the termination of the war.
Besides these, 1,227 have been settled at "Maryland in
Liberia," by the Maryland State Colonization Society.
The total emigration, therefore, under colonization au-
spices and expense, has been 13,136.

The Government of the United States has made the

FIFTIETH ANNUAL REPORT. 33

settlements founded by the Society the asylum of 5,722
recaptured Africans, mostly taken on the high seas by
its men-of-war.

The Society has strictly confined its labors to the
" colonizing, with their own consent, the free people of
color residing in our country, in Africa."

Rev. Samuel J. Mills and Rev. Ebenezer Burgess
went on board the " Electra," at Philadelphia, for Lon-
don, Nov. 16, 1817. They set sail in the "Mary," from
London, Feb. 3, 1818, and arrived at Sierra Leone
March 22, following. They selected Sherbro Island,
about 120 miles from that celebrated British colony,
and left thence for the United States May 22, having
passed just two months on the west coast of Africa.
Mr. Mills died on the homeward voyage. His worthy
colleague still lives in a good old age.

The ship " Elizabeth," the " Mayflower " of Liberia,
sailed from New York Feb. 6, 1820, with 86 emi-
grants, and arrived at Sierra Leone March 9. These
pioneers were landed at Campelar, Sherbro Island,
March 20, 1820. This place was soon abandoned, and
the survivors removed to Fourah Bay.

A treaty was signed at and for Mesurado Dec.
15, 1821, the colonists removed, and the American flag
raised there, April 25, 1822.

The several settlements, with one exception, were
formed into a Commonwealth, the Legislature of which
began its first session Aug. 30, 1839.

The people, in Convention assembled, July 26, 1847,

34 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

constituted and declared themselves a " free, sovereign,
and independent State, by the name and title of the
Republic of Liberia."

The flag of the new Republic was raised Aug. 24,
1847, with demonstrations of joy and gratitude.

The territory owned by the Liberian Government ex-
tends some six hundred miles along the West-African
coast, and reaches back indefinitely toward the interior,
the native title to which has been fairly purchased.

It has brought within its elevating influence at least
200,000 of the native inhabitants, who are gradually ac-
quiring the arts, comforts, and conveniences of civilized
life. It has a regularly organized government, mod-
elled after our own, with all the departments in suc-
cessful operation. Schools, seminaries, a college, and
some fifty churches, belonging to seven different denom-
inations, are in a hopeful condition. Towns and cities
are being; built wdiere once the slave-trade flourished
with all its untold cruelty, bloodshed, and carnage. Ag-
riculture is extending, and commerce is increasing.

Liberia has exercised, for nigh twenty years, all the
powers and attributes of an independent Government,
and has been recognized as such by the leading powers
of the world.

ADDRESS

HIS EXCELLENCY D. B. WARNER,

PRESIDENT OF LIBERIA.

ADDRESS OF PRESIDENT WARNER.

Mr. President^ and Gentlemen of the American Colonization
Society/ :

Doubtless the occasion on which you have come
together to-day is one of thrilling interest to every
philanthropist present. It dates the semi-centennial
existence of an institution, which, fifty years ago, entered
upon the prosecution of an enterprise which has already
achieved much, and is destined to revolutionize for good
an entire continent. A period of fifty years in the age
of a nation just beginning its career is short, when
compared with the object it has in view and the length
of time such an organization is expected to exist; but
when viewed in connection with a private association,
such as your Society is, it occupies in the catalogue of
dates a high and prominent place.

Among the circumstances which led to the founding
of your Society, there may be enumerated the frightful
proportions to which slavery had grown in the United
States of America ; the deep moral and physical degra-
dation and immense suffering of its victims ; the wide-
spreading demoralizing effects it was producing upon

00 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

the morality, civilization, and Christianity of the country ;
and the awful sense of the great guilt and immeasurable
responsibilities the country was incurring by allowing
an institution so reproachful to continue in it and to
receive aid and comfort under its flag. The former of
these circumstances had produced in some of the States
very distressing alarm, causing them to give the question
of slavery a serious consideration ; and the sufferings of
the slave had appealed with powerful effect to the jus-
tice, humanity, and benevolence of all the States.

Respecting the first and chief object of the Society at
its founding, there have been made various statements ;
some of which, if true, attribute to it a selfishness which
finds a parallel only in that which clinches the hands
and petrifies the heart of the most detested and aban-
doned miser. But such a selfishness as that could not,

1 think, have continued so long, and been productive of
such great and good results as we see flowing from
the operations of the scheme of African colonization.
But whether it was self-interest, or any thing akin thereto,
which prompted the founding of the institution, and has
ever since been the mainspring of all its operations, the
signs of the times seem to favor the opinion of many,
that an enterprise was set on foot, which, in process of
time, will become a standing wonder of the world ; and,
in eternity, millions will remember it as the door through
which they entered the church militant, and thence the
church triumphant.

Perhaps the pages of modern history contain a record

ADDRESS OF PRESIDENT WARNER. 39

of no beginnings so small, instruments so weak, and
wielded by a power so feeble, that have, in the same
time, accomplished more than the Society has through
its African colonization scheme. This remark should be
regarded as neither boastful and extravagant on the part
of Liberia, nor enthusiastic and exaggerative in favor of
the Society. It is rather an expression given to convic-
tions which are daily being strengthened and confirmed
by the progressive movements, both of the Society and
of Liberia, and in which the world itself will concur,
when the objects and operations, achievements and pros-
pects of both shall have been thoroughly understood
by it.

The Society was no sooner formed, than its object and
operations became an offence to the hardened slave-
holder. By him they were said to be in antagonism to
his interest, and the interest of those he held in bondage.
He, therefore, hurled against them all the formidable
weapons he could command ; calling, at the same time,
for the curse of Heaven to fall upon them, and blast them
forever.

There seems, however, to have been, in the earlier
stages of slavery in the United States, some little just
and humane consideration for the slave and man of
color ; but, when this feeling assumed the form of pro-
tection and stern justice, the creed of the pro-slavery
man was made to run thus : " Go, therefore, now, and
work, for there shall no straw be given you, yet ye shall
deliver the tale of bricks."

40 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

As friends to the Society and African colonization
multiplied, the opposition of the pro-slavery men grew
stronger, seconded even by some of those for whose
especial benefit the association was founded. It was
fierce and malicious and formidable enough to discourage
and even check a movement much more popular than
African colonization.

That there may be brought under view something
more of the greatness of the task which the Society
imposed upon itself, — or will it be as correct to say, that
was imposed upon the Society ? — when it assumed to
found a colony of the American blacks on the West
Coast of Africa, — this dreaded land, — we must take into
the account the very limited geographical knowledge it
possessed of the country about to be occupied, of the
character of the people inhabiting it, the distance of
three thousand miles emigrants would have to be trans-
ported who were to be the colonists, and the protection
which would have to be afforded these from the violence
and depredations of the natives in the country. Here,
too, in active operation, was a powerful branch of that
great laboratory — the slave-trade — that was furnishing
the Western World with its victims of cruelty, suffering,
and death. It was being carried on by civilized and
Christian governments, who made their navies sentinels
to watch and repel the approaches of any one that
would have the temerity to come to molest them in
their infamous work of blood. Long had the horrid

ADDRESS OF PRESIDENT WARNER. 41

flag of this nefarious traffic waved over the land, sup-
ported and worshipped bj its kings and its princes.

Against this array of might and power, a handful of
men, comprising the American Colonization Society, —
an association of very limited means, and equally so in
point of skill in the management of African affairs, — set
out to contend, relying for success upon the pureness of
their intention, the justice of their cause, and the hope
of receiving aid from Him by whom "kings reign and
princes decree righteousness ; " and who had said,
" Ethiopia shall stretch forth her hand unto God." How
they began and succeeded, we will narrate presently.

For more than three centuries previous to the found-
ing of your Society, the African slave-trade had been
crossing the Atlantic Ocean to the Western Hemisphere.
Annually, it had torn away from their native homes and
beloved country, thousands and thousands of the chil-
dren of Africa, burying thousands of them in the sea, as
they expired in the middle passage, and transporting the
remainder of them, sick, feeble, and distressed, to foreign
countries ; there subjecting them to a servitude and to
brutalities to which a speedy and violent death is pref-
erable. For years this wicked and unjust traffic had
been passing from East to West, attended with sufferings,
cruelties, and barbarities, which torture the mind to
reflect upon. The Western World had been made black
with the shrivelled forms of its victims, and their
oppressors drunk with their blood.

But, from the beginning of the foul monster's career,

42 AMKKKAN COLOXIZATION SOCIETY.

there was an eye, which never sleeps, looking on upon
his work. It took cognizance of all his deeds ; of each
of his victims that fell in the middle passage, and now
lies on the bed of ocean ; of all that breathed out
their souls on the bloody plantation, whose bones have
no resting place but in the open air, exposed to the foot
of the impious and the ravages of the night beasts.

True, the American people, as a nation, retired from
the trade, declaring it piracy, and those of themselves en-
gaged in it worthy of death ; but this declaration was, in
effect, like the decrees of King Ahasuerus, and its hy-
pocrisy has received a terrible reward. But the time
in the purpose of this All-seeing One having come,
when a counter current should set in, — when there
should be, at least, a beginning of a returning to their
father-land of the suffering African captives, a star
appeared to guide them to the spot : —

'' It was their guide, their light, their all ;
It bade their dark forebodings cease ;
And through the storm, and danger's thrall.
It led them to the port of peace."

Purposely inspired, as I very believe they were, by
Omnipotence, with his will to that end, a few philan-
thropic individuals banded themselves together, and, in
the year 1816, founded the American Colonization
Society. This is the star which appeared to shed light
on the surrounding darkness of American slavery, and

ADDRESS OF PRESIDENT WARNER. 43

to point out to the bondmen the way from the " House
of Bondage " to the " Land of Promise." This was the
more earnest beginning by those devoted philanthro-
pists, to do that 2viU of Heaven with which they had
been so impressively inspired.

Still pressing towards their object, the Society, in
1818, employed, commissioned, and sent to the coast of
Africa, two commissioners. The honored forerunners of
the heaven-blessed scheme, and bearers of credentials
sealed with an impress deeper and broader than that
which mortals use, were Messrs. Samuel J. Mills and
Ebenezer Burgess, — names honored in Liberia by all
who hear them. Theirs was the duty to " spy out the
land," and to select and purchase a suitable site for the
location of a colony. This was to be an asylum, — a
peaceful retreat from slavery and oppression — for as
many of the African exiles in America as could and
would avail themselves of the provisions made by the
Society for reaching it. It was to be the foundation of
a Christian negro nationality, and a beacon to the countr
less thousands and millions of Africa's sons who are
sitting in darkness and in the region and shadow of
death.

Promptly did those agents fulfil their mission, the
many obstacles which lay in their way notwithstanding.
In treating with the owners of the land selected, they
were brought in contact with all that duplicity and
treachery for which the natives connected with the
slave-trade are so signally famous. This rendered their

44 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

negotiations both irksome and perplexing. But all
these difficulties were heroically encountered and over-
come ; and then the commissioners turned their faces
homeward.

On the return of Mr. Burgess to America (Mr. Mills,
his co-adjutor, having resigned his gentle spirit to Him
who gave it, while on his way to those who had sent
him), and the communication to the Society of his re-
port, the Society determined at once to give their novel
enterprise a thorough and practical trial, so soon as
circumstances would allow it to do so. After the lapse
of two years, matters being favorable, the undertaking
was resumed ; when in February, 1820, the ship " Eliza-
beth " was chartered, and sent to the Sherbro Island with
a company of eighty-eight emigrants, under the care
and superintendence of the Society's new agent. Dr.
S. A. Crozer. This was the forming germ of a subse-
quent growth ; and who at that time, judging from its
formation and tenderness, could determine the size of
the tree it would produce ? Who could estimate the
number of other happy events depending upon its suc-
cess? Or who, even now, at its advanced age and
growth of only forty-six years, will undertake to figure
up the good which has already accrued from it to civil-
ization and Christianity ? And what circle less than that
which bounds eternity will be sufficiently great to
enclose the influence it is now exerting upon the world ?
Had the opportunity afforded the Society at that time

ADDRESS OF PRESIDENT WARNER. 45

for planting a settlement in Africa been lost, a second
one would probably have never occurred.

The location selected for the colony being, as it sub-
sequently and sadly proved to be, one of extreme
unhealthiness, the emigrants were early stricken down
by its pestilential fevers. Great suffering followed ; and
death did his work so fast and terribly, that it was
found necessary to abandon the island, and remove the
surviving colonists to the colony of Sierra-Leone. Here
they remained until they were re-enforced by a company
by the brig "Nautilus;" and here both companies
located until a second and permanent jolace was found
for them in 1821, at Cape Mesurado. At this place the
care-worn wanderers utterly demolished the tent, substi-
tuting it with the more substantial and firmly-fixed
lodge, composed of brick, wood, and the durable granite.
Here a remnant of that pioneer band and their offspring
are resting, having stood the shock of war, endured
intense suffering, and undergone and lived through most
of the trials and vicissitudes peculiar to newly-founded
countries. And here are thousands of others who have
come after them, enjoying, in the fullest sense of the
word, " liberty and equality." Here no " public senti-
ment frowns them down," so long as they obey their
country's laws.

It was to be out of the " house of bondage," that
those way-faring and self-sacrificing men, stooping under
the weight of weary years of slavery, launched upon
the tumultuous ocean, crossed it, and became the sub-

46 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

jeets of suffering" and privation which put to the test all
of human and divine virtues they possessed. And the
fortitude and heroism displayed by those founders of
Liberia, during their day of trial, were indeed worthy
the cause calling them into action ; and the names of
the veterans themselves, with that of the illustrious
Ashmun, and those of your numerous other self-sacrifi-
cing agents, and that of the Gordons who fell in the
cause of African colonization, — died here that Liberia
might live, — will descend in radiance of glory, gather-
ing brightness as years roll on, to generations yet
unborn.

All this was done to reclaim from slavery, superstition,
and idolatry, and to prepare and garnish the home of
the millions of Africa's descendants in America, and to
bring within the range of morality, civilization, and
Christianity, the untold millions of her sons and daugh-
ters dwelling in darkness on her soil, and in gross dark-
ness which can be felt.

What a fabric of " civil and religious liberty " w\as
begun at the laying of the corner-stone of the Colony
of Liberia ! What a monument of God's favor and
loving-kindness to the sons of Ham was then being
created ! What an achievement was being effected in
favor of the gospel of peace ! And what tongue will
refuse to speak His glories forth, who put it into the
hearts of those who undertook the work, and, until
tlieir death, devoted themselves to its execution, to go

ADDRESS OF PRESIDENT WARNER. • 47

forth and build up the waste places in Africa which sin
had made !

Thus far I have attempted very little in detail. I
have already passed over, unnoticed, hundreds of inci-
dents which occurred between the arrival at Sherbro of
the ship " Elizabeth " with the first emigrants, and the for-
mal occupation by the colonists of Cape Mesurado ; and
there are hundreds of others strewed between that
period and the time I am occupying in addressing you.

Some of those incidents were truly afflicting and dis-
tressing; and a recollection of them, even at this distant
period of time, produces in the mind very sad and pain-
ful reflections. Others were cheering and gratifying,
and in their more happy effects are still looming up
before us in the most flattering prospects of success,
both to the Society and to the Republic of Liberia.

In my last inaugural address, I have already noticed
what I think should be regarded by us all as very re-
markable in the enterprise of your Society, viz. : the
exemption from those more sad and distressing casual-
ties or disasters, so common to the maritime world, of
all its vessels but one, I think, transporting emigrants
to Liberia.* Are not such remarkable instances of the
preservation of ships very rare ? And have we another
such instance given, as in the case of the Society, in
which a company has sent its vessels across the ocean
for forty-six years, consecutively, and has lost but one
of them ? Were I certain that the case of the Society

* In that single instance of wreck, no emigrant was lost. — [Ed.]

48 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

furnished the only instance of the kind, I would seize
upon it with the greater tenacity, as an incontrovertible
proof of God's special favor towards the returning
bondmen of America, and of his pre-determined pur-
pose that they should once more visit, and permanently
settle in, their country, — long lost and disgraced though
it may have been, — driving out tlie Canaanite, and
breaking down and trampling under foot the power of
the slaver.

Granting that some vessel and her company of emi-
grants shall be lost, — sunk in the depths of the sea, —
will that be sufficient to break down the opinion, that the
Supreme Being has willed and fore-ordained that there
shall be an exodus of the colored population of America
to their own land ? No more so, I think, than the fall-
ing in the wilderness of all the Jews, except two, over
twenty-one years of age, that left Egypt for Canaan,
before they reached that place, was sufficient to prove
that it had not been pre-ordained that they should leave
Egyptj and go into Canaan. If any of the descendants
of Africa in America start hither, despising the country
— their sacredly reserved inheritance — to which they
are coming, should it be thought strange if they do not
reach it ?

The late war in America, — that terrible " uprising of
a great people," — if it could be viewed in all its phases
and connections, would probably furnish an exact key
to the question, " Shall the people go to their own
place ? " The very watch-word of that war was, " Let

ADDRESS OF PRESIDENT WARNER. 49

my people go, that they may serve me in the wilder-
ness." The burden of President Lincoln's administration
was, Loose the shackles, and let the oppressed go free !
And President Johnson, extending the order, says to
the people, " Go to Liberia."

All the propositions, from 1777 to the present time,
made by various Governments, the Government of the
United States of America not excepted, for the settle-
ment of the people elsewhere than their own country,
have failed, — failed, may we not say, like the building
of Babel, because they were in direct opposition to that
plan for settling them, designed by Him who is the Great
Designer of the universe itself He saith, " Surely, as I
have thought, so shall it come to pass ; and as I have
purposed, so shall it stand." *

It would seem, then, that it is no wilderness in Mis-
sissippi, in any of the north-western Territories, nor in
Central America, to which the people should remove or
be removed, but to the wilderness of Western and of
Central Africa. These, doubtless, are the localities
ordained of old to be the future dwelling-places of the
returning captives of Africa, and the deep solitudes
requiring the melody of their songs, that the solitary
places may be glad ; and the people themselves should be
constantly pleading, " Send me away, that I may go
unto mine own place."

On being invited to come to Liberia, the colored

* Isaiah xiv. 24

60 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

people of America should not regard the invitation in
the light of a request made of them to surrender their
own country, and come to one belonging to others.
The contrary is the true state of the case. Africa, and
not America, is their country. It was made theirs when

" God (irave asunder, and assigned their lot
To, all the nations."

It has been for centuries, and is still being, kept in
sacred reserve for them, and none shall inherit their
portion until they come. And they ought to come ; and
come they will, when it shall be said to them, — and it
will be said to them in a manner they shall not be able
to resist, — " Get thee out from this land, and return to
the land of thy kindred."

Here is ample room to receive them, bread enough to
feed them, wealth to enrich them, and a way open
before them to the object of their highest aspirations.

" Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard
his spots ?" So neither can finite minds change or frus-
trate the mind and purposes of the Infinite. " For the
Lord of hosts hath purposed, and who shall disannul it ?
His hand is stretched out, and who shall turn it back ? "

But, you ask me, What is that purpose ? The sum
total of the answer is with Him whose " thoughts are not
as our thoughts ; " but the opinion entertained by many
respecting it is, that, in the course of time, the two races
— the black and white races — must separate ; and the

ADDRESS OF PRESIDENT WARNER. 51

deep blue Atlantic Ocean will be the dividing — the
Mason and Dixon — line between them. Besides this,
there seems yet to be solved but one other question
remaining ; viz., Can the blacks be absorbed by the
whites ? That is, can there or will there be, through
the means of a spontaneous amalgamation, a gradual
passing away of the former into mulattoes, and these
again into the dominant race, so that, in a few centuries,
the whole of the present negro population of America
will have been chang-ed into the white element? This

is not probable ; neither should it be thought desirable.
It will be but increasing the difficulty (perhaps I am
too dogmatical in my opinion on this, and some of the
foregoing subjects), the settling of the people by them-
selves in any part of America, where they and the
whites can have easy and frequent intercourse with each
other. This opinion is based on the probability, that,
under such circumstances, one or the other people will
invade the rights of his neighbor. This will gender into
an unpleasant altercation between them ; and, if the
cause of offence proceed from the side of the blacks, will
there not always be found among the whites those who
will shoot down a score of blacks for an injury done, nay,
even for an insult offered, to one of the whites ? If such
an occurrence were to take place near or at the allotted
home of the four millions of blacks, would it not be
resented ? And, if resented, the consequences would
probably be such as I need not, if 1 could, describe.
If it was not resented, I can think of but two things to

52 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

which such an enlightened and successful restraint upon
depraved human nature would be attributable. First,
that the blacks, in separating from the whites, solemnly
vowed never to quarrel with them (the whites), except
in a legal way, under any circumstance whatever ; and,
secondly, that they felt themselves numerically too weak
to contend successfully with their white neighbors in a
quarrel in which deadly weapons would be used. If the
latter conclusion should be the barrier to their protect-
ing and defending themselves when they should do so,
then the blacks would not be living in the enjoyment of
that social and political ease and equality for which they
are, but vainly, contending in America.

But to return. If I could be less commendatory in
my remarks while I address you, I would prefer it ; but
I cannot well be so, and give utterance to what I feel to
be genuine convictions relative to yovvc Society and the
Republic of Liberia. The life-long interests of millions
of the African race in the Western Hemisphere are in-
volved in the question. Shall those millions remain
where they are, and let Africa go down, and sink yet
lower ; or should they return to their fatherland, and
redeem it from the stigma and reproach which have
rested upon it for ages, dishonoring its name, and throw-
ing a darker shade over its ancient glory ? The salva-
tion of an entire continent of many millions of inhabi-
tants is at stake ; and it is but just, that every laudable
means should be called into requisition to secure it ;
and that those means should be regarded with a proper

ADDRESS OF PllESIDENT WARNER. 53

appreciation, and their operations promoted ; and every
thing ought to be said and done that will have, upon
the whole subject, a wholesome and profitable bearing.

But for the inauguration of your Society, and the
subsequent founding of Liberia, and the emigrating to
it from American slavery of a few of the civilized de-
scendants of Africa, what a fund of native, but rare and
brilliant, talent would have lain hidden in the minds of
thousands who are now employing it in diffusing useful
and saving knowledge among thousands of thousands,
who, but for receiving it through this channel, would
have gone without it from the cradle to the grave !

History, in all probability, never would have had im-
pressed on its pages, as men of great common sense,
unflagging fortitude, and dauntless courage, the names
of Elijah Johnson, Lot Gary, Daniel Hawkins, Allen
James, Richmond Sampson, Thomas Spencer, John
Lawrence, and the names of numbers of others who
emigrated to Liberia in the darkness of the night of
African slavery, fought here, and died in the work of
laying the foundation of a negro Christian empire, and
erecting the standard of freedom and of the cross of
the Saviour. They toiled hard and long at this, pray-
ing, at the same time, that the sun of righteousness
would shine on this benighted land, and chase hence,
forever, the thick darkness in which it has been envel-
oped for thousands of years.

The oratorial powers of the lamented Hilary Teage,
the diplomatic abilities of Joseph J. Roberts, the states-

54 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

raanship of the late President Benson, the legal abilities
of Chief- Justice John Day, and the ecclesiastic endow-
ments of James S. Payne, and the admirable acquire-
ments and abilities of many others in Liberia, would
have been so many gifts vainly bestowed, but for a
place for their display, and opportunities for their im-
provement ; and these places and opportunities were
not to be found in a land of slavery and proscription.

The banks of the St. Paul's, St. John's, Sinoe, and Far-
mington River, and of the River Cavalla, now teeming
with civilized life and industry, presenting to view com-
fortable Christian homes, inviting school-houses and
imposing church edifices, but for the founding of Liberia
would have remained until this day studded with slave
barracoons, the theatres of indescribable sufferings, wick-
edness, and shocking deaths. And what is to be said of
the site on which is erected Liberia College ? And
have we, in truth, lived to see a college in Liberia ? Its
site is now no more a place of concealment for the sub-
tile and sinewy boar, and the stealthy leopard. Its
former forest echoes no longer the horrifying yell of
the perfidious and murderous Dey, invading Monrovia ;
it is no longer made vocal with the doleful noise of the
night-bird. An edifice, dedicated to the arts and sci-
ences, stands there ; and its halls are thronged with
Liberia's youthful aspirants, preparing themselves to
assert the rights of Africa, and to redeem her from her
present thraldom.

And what can I say more ! From every stand-point

ADDRESS OF PHESTDENT WARNER. 55

I heave yet been able to occupy, I can see nothing in
the founding of the American Colonization Society, and
its subsequent operations, but a lofty philanthropy en-
gaged in the prosecution of a purpose which can be
appreciated justly only by the mind that can grasp
eternity. And yet we have the mortification to hear
the Society pronounced a cheat ; its agents, knaves ;
emigration, a gross injustice ; the Republic of Liberia, a
sham and a grave-yard ; and the whole enterprise a de-
ception ! But all these pitiful indulgences and unjust
criminations fail most shamefully to disprove the fact,
that this day the sun, in the brightness of his glory,
shines most majestically upon a palpable contradiction
of all of them, in the real form of the highly respected
and extensively recognized Republic of Liberia. Let
its traducers come and see it. While they, on their
side of the wall, are pouring water on the flame to ex-
tinguish it, on the opposite side there is a Hand, se-
cretly, and as constantly, keeping it alive by feeding it
with grateful oil.

With all her faults and failings, her poverty and
weakness, Liberia is endeavoring to prove herself
grateful to those who founded her, and have watched
over her, cared for and fostered her for forty-six years,
and so render herself worthy of the relations she sus-
tains to Africa, and to the civilized nations with whom
she has treaties.

Your offspring, Mr. President, and gentlemen of the
society, is yet existing, and, withal, is growing, — grow-

66 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

ing in that which is of " good report." Her growth may
be tardy ; so may it be of long continuance. But, if our
colored brethren would come over and help us, we
should get on faster, and our prosperity would be much
more abundant. They have been so frequently invited
to come, and the advantages they would have in this
countiy have been so clearly and repeatedly set before
them, that I deem it unnecessary to say any thing fur-
ther to encourage them to come than I have already
said. If they will persist in building Babels in the land
of Shinar, and pyramids in Egypt, which will eventually
be to them only so many eye-sores whenever they look
at them from this side of the waters, we have only to
say to them, build on.

Since your founding, you have been called to lament
the death of many of your once active and efficient
members, whose presence in your meetings was so ani-
mating and cheering. In the far-off land of Africa, re-
pose the dust of some of them. But there are yet re-
maining among you flices that have been familiar with
each other, perhaps for fifty years. Doubtless there is
among you your venerable and superannuated corre-
sponding secretary, whom you sent to Liberia in 1824,
to rconnoitre the colony, and to inspect the Agency of
the great Ashmun, your then Colonial Agent, whose in-
trinsic worth, as a person for the times, the Society did
not at that time know. There are also yet in Liberia,
among the living, a few of the Crozer band, and a rem-
nant of the Ashmun contemporaries. But Liberia, as

ADDRESS OF PRESIDENT WARNER. 57

well as the Society, has had her bereavements. Her
great men passed away just at the time, in human cal-
culations, when their services were most wanted. They
are gone from their labor and toil, and their works fol-
low them.

Notwithstanding many evil reports have gone abroad
against our "land of promise," deterring many in
America, and perhaps elsewhere, from coming to help
us possess it — and there are yet being uttered predic-
tions that we must " eventually fail and come to naught,"
— yet both you and we have abundant reasons to re-
joice, and to believe that He who has begun the work
of Africa's redemption will carry it on to a glorious
completion. That great Architect of the universe has
given us already too many assurances of his good will
towards us — and he is able to make that good will
abundantly effectual — to allow us to doubt one mo-
ment his faithfulness in all things pertaining to his
creatures, or to believe he will abandon us while we
are yet trusting in him. The sure and immutable word
is, " Righteousness exalteth a nation ; but sin is a re-
proach to any people." By securing the first, the sec-
ond may be avoided.

In conclusion, Mr. President and gentlemen, I have
only to remark, that, thus far, through the vicissitudes
of fifty years, amidst the sneers and scoffs of those
who would scoff and sneer at your undertaking, against
the spiteful and virulent opposition of anti-colonization-
ists, with a determination of purpose, having a sanctified

58 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

reference to the glory of God, you have steadily held
on your way, using your best endeavors for the re-
demption of Africa, and the salvation of her millions of
souls. Were I permitted to speak a word in behalf of
myself, in your presence, I would say, I shall never be
able to command language to express my gratitude
to God for guiding my infant feet to the Colony of
Liberia. My time in Liberia is almost coeval with the
existence of the place, and I have yet to feel the slight-
est regret at my being here.

And now, to Him who hath sustained you, and given
you of his free Spirit to guide you in all your acts and
deliberations, be ascribed might, majesty, and dominion,
now and forever.

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE.

HISTOEICAL DISCOUESE.

Mr. President :

A PUBLIC notice has promised " An Historical Discourse
on the Rise and Progress of the Society " which now
celebrates its fiftieth anniversary. The treatment of
the first topic — the Rise — may, perhaps, be aided by
an illustration. It shall be drawn from the practice of
the ancients, mentioned by Seneca, of building altars and
offering worship at the sources of rivers. Remains of
such temples, evidently Grecian, are still seen at the two
sources of the Jordan ; and substructions, older than
Grecian, at that of the Chrysorrhoas, esteemed by the
people of Damascus "better than all the waters of
Israel." In both these instances, however, the water
from these sources soon unites with less pretentious
streams, coming from a much greater distance. But
what if there be no vast flood bursting forth at any one
point ? What if we find onl}^ here the bubbling fount-
ain, at which the wild bird scarce slakes her thirst ;
there, the drops trickling from the fjxce of a cliff; yon-
der, the superfluous moistiu'e escaping from a bed of
moss ; and moisture from a thousand other places, in

62 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

varied forms, all collected by the slopes and channels
which the Great Creator has provided for that pur-
pose, into one vast Father of Waters, fertilizing the
plains and bearing the commerce of half a continent ?
Plainly, you can erect your altar in no one place. You
can worship only the Beneficent Wisdom which is every-
where, and which has so made the world that kindred
good influences naturally flow together, and combiaie
into broad streams of blessing to mankind.

So of the origin of our Society, and of our work. The
sentiment out of which it grew, more or less definitely
formed into specific plans, was everywhere, tending to
realize itself in beneficent action for the colored race.
This sentiment gushed forth at many points; so that
many persons have been named as the originators of
our enterprise. And there is some ground for each of
these claims, and, doubtless, for many others that might
have been advanced. They were originators, as truly as
if there had been no others. Their relative merits can-
not be settled by chronology, for the thought was often
as fresh and original in the later projector as in any that
had preceded him.

The earliest movement known to have any historical
connection with our Society was the visit of the Rev.
Samuel Hopkins of Newport, RI. to his neighbor, the
Rev. Ezra Stiles, April 7, 1773. The diary '^of Dr.
Stiles has preserved the record. Dr. Hopkins pro-
posed to educate two pious negro youths for the ministry,
and send them to Africa as missionaries ; hoping, cvident-

: Veto y«r)/L ''fo/, V. X. ri .'^"^ ff-

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 63

ly, to send more in time. He needed assistance to meet
the expense. The more practical mind of Dr. Stiles
suggested that the enterprise would not succeed in that
form ; that thirty or forty suitable persons must be sent
out, and the whole conducted hy a society formed for
the purpose. This idea of a purely missionary settle-
ment grew, in a few years, into a definite plan for a
colony, with its agricultural, mechanical, and commercial
interests. Aug. 31, 1773, Drs. Stiles and Hopkins issued
a circular, inviting contributions to their enterprise.
Feb. 7, 1774, a society of ladies in New23ort had just
made their first contribution ; and aid had been received
from several parts of Massachusetts and Connecticut.
Nov. 2r,''two of the young men sailed for New York, on
their way to Princeton, N.J. to be educated under
Dr. Witherspoon, president of the college. Three days"^
later, bills w^ere drawn on London for amounts col-
lected in aid of their enterprise in England and in
Scotland. April 10, 1776, another circular was issued.
They then thought their colony would be on the Gold
Coast, near Annamaboe, where one of their young men
had influential relatives, who w^ere anxious for his re-
turn, as had been learned by letters from Africa, confirm-
ing his own account.

The WHY of Independence suspended these labors ;
but the plan and the purpose survived it. In 1784, and
again in 1787, Dr. Hopkins endeavored to induce mer-
chants to send out a vessel with a few emigrants, to
procure lands and make a beginning, and with goods,

^i'i

64 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

the profits on which would, of course, duninish the
expense. In March, 1789^. he hud consultations with
Dr. William Thornton, "a young man from the West
Indies," who proposed to take out a company of free
blacks, and found a colony in Africa. A number volun-
teered to go with him, but the enterprise failed for
want of funds. Dr. Thornton was afterwards a member
of the first Board of Managers of the American Coloni-
zation Society.

A month later, Granville Sharpe and others sent the
first colonists from London to Sierra Leone. This design
was already known to Hopkins. Perhaps, too, Sharpe
had heard of the plans of Hopkins, as tlie}^ had been well
known in England for some years ; but they had no
direct intercourse with each other till Hopkins wrote to
Sharpe, Jan. 15, 1789, inquiring whether, and on what
terms, and wdth what prospects, blacks from America
could join the colony. There were then " Christian
Blacks" desirous to emigrate, enough to form a church ;
and one of them was fit to be its pastor.

Unsuccessful in this, he continued his labors. In 1791,
he wished the Connecticut Emancipation Society to be
incorporated, with power to act as an education and
colonization society. In 1793, he preached a sermon
before a kindred society at Providence, which was pub-
liished with an appendix, in which he advocated almost
the exact course of action afterward adopted by this
Societ}', and urged its execution by the United-States

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 65

Government, the several State Governments, and by
voluntary societies.

Hopkins died Dec. 20, 1803 ; but the influence of
these labors still lived. They must have been well
known to Capt. Paul Cuffee of New Bedford, and the
thirty emigrants whom he took to Sierra Leone in his
own vessel, early in 1815 ; and in 1826, two of his
" hopeful young men," Newport Gardner, aged seventy-
five, and John Nubia,* aged seventy, hoping to move
their brethren by their example, sailed from Boston in
the brig " Vine," the eighth vessel sent out by this
Society.

The next movement having any historical result was
in Virginia. Dec. 31, 1800, the Legislature, in secret
session, —

'■'■ Resolved, That the Governor be requested to correspond with
the President of the United States, on the subject of j^urchasing
lands without the limits of this State, whither persons obnoxious
to the laws or dangei'ous to the peace of society may be removed."

The Governor, Monroe, in communicating this Reso-
lution to the President, stated that it was passed in con-
sequence of a conspiracy of slaves in and around Rich-
mond, for which the conspirators, under existing laws,
miii-ht be doomed to death. It was deemed more hu-
mane, and it was hoped not less expedient, to transport

* Known in Hopkins's correspondence as Salmur Nubia, and familiarly in
Newport as Jack Mason.

66 AMEIIICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

such offenders bevond the limits of the State. President
Jefferson favored the idea, discussed the objections to
several locations, said that" Africa would offer a last and
undoubted resort," and promised his assistance. The
Legislature, Jan. 16, 1802, directed a continuance of
the corresjiondence, "for the purpose of obtaining a
place without the limits of " the United States, " to which
free negroes or mulattoes, and such negroes or mulattoes
as may be emancipated, may be sent or choose to re-
move as a place of asylum ; " requesting the President
" to prefer Africa, or any of the Spanish or Portuguese
settlements in South America." This resolution differs
from the former, in that it does not contemplate a
penal colony, and does contemplate increased facilities
for emancipation, in a mode which the State did not
esteem dangerous. The President corresponded with the
British Government concerning Sierra Leone, and with
the Portuguese concerning their possessions in South
America, but without success. In 1805, Jan. 22, a reso-
lution was passed, instructing the senators and request-
ing the representatves from that State to endeavor to
procure a suitable territory in Louisiana. No action
followed, and the matter slept ten years. Yet the pro-
position of Ann Mifflin, and the correspondence of John
Lynd with Thomas Jefierson in 1811, showed that the
idea was still alive and at work.

Another of these numerous origins must be noticed.
In the spring of 1808, a few undergraduates of Williams
College, Mass., formed themselves into a society, whose

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 67

object was, " to effect, in the persons of its members, a
mission or missions to the heathen." In about two
years, this society was transferred to the Theological
Seminary at Andover, of which most of them had become
members. Here they procured the formation of a " So-
ciety of Inquiry respecting Missions ; " and there was
thenceforth the chief seat of their labors. With becoming
modesty, they regarded themselves as little else than
mere school-boys, competent, indeed, to make inquiries,
collect information, and discover wants that ought to be
supplied, but needing the guidance of older and w^iser
men to mature judicious plans and execute them suc-
cessfully. The proposal of four of them to go on a mis-
sion to the heathen in foreign lands, led directlj^ to the
formation of the American Board of Commissioners for
Foreign Missions. Suggestions from these young men,
or some of them, also led to the formation of the
American Bible Society, and, though in some cases less
directly, several other kindred institutions, for which the
state of feeling in the religious world was prepared.

Samuel J. Mills has been commonly regarded as the
leader of these inquirers. With a companion, he made a
journey of inquiry through large parts of the new settle-
ments in the United States, especially the south-western
part. He came back with the knowledge of many wants
to be supplied, and fully convinced, that, to use his own
w^ords, " We must save the negroes, or the negroes will
ruin us;" and that there was so much at the South of right
feeling towards the negroes, that something might be

68 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

done towards saving them. The matter was abundant-
ly discussed. A colony was proposed, somewhere in the
vast wilderness between the Ohio and the great lakes.
But one of them at length objected to that location.
" Whether any of us live to see it or not," said he, " the
time will come when white men will want all that region,
and will have it, and our colony will be overwhelmed
by them." So they concluded that the colony must be
in Africa.

Mills went to New Jersey, to study theology with Dr.
Griffin at Newark, and still more, as Dr. Griffin soon
thouo;ht, to eno:ao;e him and other leading; men in that
region in considering wdiether certain good objects could
be accomplished, and how. While there, he originated
the school for the education of pious blacks at Parsip-
pany, some thirty miles from Princeton. It was placed
under the care and patronage of the Synod of New
Jersey ; and thus the Presbyterian clergy of that State
were brought into active connection with Mills, and his
idea of saving the negro. His project of a colony north
of the Ohio, or somewhere else, was well known to Dr.
Alexander of Princeton, and doubtless to others.

Among the most eminent of that clergy was the Rev.
Dr. Robert Finley. No record has been found of any di-
rect intercourse between him and Mills ; and there is no
reason to suspect that Mills furnished him with a plan
of a society, to be formed at Washington, for colonizing
free l)lacks in Africa. That plan seems to have developed
itself in his own mind, while contemplating that class of

HISTOEICAL DISCOURSE. 69

facts to which Mills was so busily calling attention ; and
it is certain that he had it under consideration as early
as February, 1815. From about that time, he was in-
dustrious in recommending it to his friends ; but they,
while admitting that its object was good, generally dis-
trusted its success. After probably nearly two years of
such labor, he called a public meeting at Princeton, to
consider the subject ; but few besides the Faculties of the
College and the Theological Seminary attended, and
only Dr. Alexander appears to have aided him in com-
mending it. Still he persevered ; and when Congress as-
sembled, early in December, 1816, repaired to Washing-
ton, to attempt the formation of his proposed society.
On his arrival; he went at once to his brother-in-law,
Elias B. Caldwell. That these brothers had previously
corresponded on the subject, is a probable conjecture, but
not a known fact. Yet the idea of colonization was not
then new to Mr. Cakhvell. It had already been sug-
gested from another source.

Late inFebruary, 1816, the Virginia secret resolutions
and correspondence of 1801-05 first became known to
Charles Fenton Mercer, a member of the Legislature of
that State. Not being under the obligation of secrecy, he
at once made them known extensively in the State, and
pledged himself to renew them at the next session of the
Legislature. Being at Washington, — it must have been
in March or April, — he made known the facts and his
intentions to two friends. One was his old schoolmate
at Princeton, Elias B. Caldwell, who approved his object,

70 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

and promised to use his influence with his Presbyterian
friends in New Jersey in favor of it. The other was
Francis S. Key, who w^ould attempt a similar movement
in Marj'land. Gen. Mercer redeemed his pledge. His
proposed resolution passed the House of Delegates, Dec.
14, by a vote of 132 to 14, and the Senate, Dec. 23,
wath one dissenting vote. This was done without any
knowledge of the plans and movements of Dr. Finley for
forming a society, and indeed without any expectation
that a society would be formed. His idea was, that
colonization would be carried by the State Govern-
Inents, under the sanction and protection of the National
Government. Still, this expression of Virginia's mind
rendered important and perhaps indispensable aid to
the formation and success of the Society ; for the action
of the House of Delegates was known in Washington
before Gen. Mercer's resolution had passed the Senate,
and before any public meeting was holden to form a
society.

To arrange that meeting, and secure attendance upon
it, cost Dr. Finley no slight labor. The goodness of the
object was generally admitted ; but, at the preliminary
consultations, those invited and expected were generally
absent. Charles Marsh, member of Conii-ress from Yer-
mont, noticed this disposition of almost everybody to
leave this good w^ork to others; and, as this was the
only project that he had ever heard of, promising great
good to the black race, he determined that it should not
be allowed to die in that way. Pie decided that those

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 71

who knew the plan to be a good one should attend the
meetings. Of course, as all who ever knew his inex-
haustible adroitness and persistency will easily under-
stand, " a very respectable mumber " of them at-
tended the first public meeting, Dec. 21, 1816. Henry
Clay, in the necessary absence of Judge Washington,
was called to the chair. Elias B. Caldwell, the brother-
in-law of Dr. Finley and the schoolmate and friend of
Gen. Mercer, perfectly informed of the plans and move-
ments of both, made the leading argument in favor of
forming a society. He stated that public attention had
been called to the subject in New Jersey, New York,
Indiana, Tennessee, Virginia, and perhaps other places.
He was supported by remarks from John Randolph of
Virginia, and Robert Wright of Maryland. A committee
was appointed to prepare a constitution, and the meet-
ing adjourned for one week.

At the adjourned meeting, Dec. 28, the committee
reported a constitution, which was adopted. Fifty
gentlemen affixed their names to it as members. The
twenty-third name on the list is Samuel J. Mills. What
brought him there at that time, and what he was about
while there, we can only infer from other parts of his
history.

Jan. 1, 1817, the day fixed by the Constitution, the
Society met for the election of officers. Hon. Bushrod
Washington, of Virginia, was chosen President, with
twelve Vice-Presidents, from nine States, including
Georgia, Kentucky and Massachusetts, and one from

72 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

the District of Columbia. Dr. William Thornton, whose
visit to Dr. Hopkins in 1787 has already been men-
tioned, was a member of the Board of Managers.

Thus the Society was formed and organized, not by
the labors of any one projector, or by the inliuence of
a movement in any one part of the country, but by the
union of the tendencies which, remote from each other
and independent of each other, had been working
towards that result for more than forty years. That
the Virginia movement, or the New-Jersey movement,
or the New-Eno-land movements, would have accom-
plished any thing without the union of all, some may
perhaps believe, but facts have not proved. Its true
origin was, in the desire of good men everywhere to
do the best thing then practicable for the black race, in
this country and in Africa ; that desire prompting all
these movements, and sustaining them when providenti-
ally united in one.

Gen. Mercer was not present at the formation of the
Society. His plan was, colonization by the National and
State Governments; and, late in life, he expressed a
doubt whether more good would not have been done
by such action, if no Society had been formed ; as the
movement would then have had the united support of
the South, which was lost by bringing Northern men
into the movement, and thus throwing important South-
ern interests " open to the public discussions and acts of
a Society spread through the United States, and to the
interference of other counsellors and agents than their

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 73

own Government." At the time, however, he made no
such objection. His confidential friends took a leading
part in the formation of the Society, and he himself be-
came one of its most active and efficient supporters.
In a few weeks, he procured the formation of several
auxiliaries in Virginia. He procured, by personal solici-
tation, large donations to its funds. He wrote several
of its earlier Reports. He rendered various services,
without which it is not easy to see how the Society
could ever have become active.

The first step towards planting a colony in Africa
was, to find and procure a location where it might be
planted and prosper. For this purpose, Africa must be
visited, and preliminary arrangements made. Samuel J.
Mills offered himself for that service, was accepted, and
authorized to select his companion. He selected his
friend, Ebenezer Burgess, now Rev. Dr. Burgess, of
Dedham, Mass., the man who, years before, had opposed
the plan for colonizing north the Ohio, because white
men would want that country, and argued that the
colony must be in Africa. Their letter of instructions
was dated Nov. 6, 1817. Money to repay the expense
of the expedition was borrowed, and the loan repaid
from funds raised by Gen. Mercer and Rev. William
Meade, afterwards Bishop Meade of Virginia.

They sailed Nov. 16 ; Mills remarking to one of his
associates in these movements, as he was about to em-
bark, " This is the most important enterprise in which
I have ever been engaged." Arriving in England in

/4 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

December, they were courteously received by His RoA'al
Highness the Duke of Gloucester, Patron and Presi-
dent, and by the other officers of the African Institution.
Mr. Wilberforce introduced them to Lord 13athurst,
Secretary of State for the Colonies, who gave them
letters to the Governor and other officers at Sierra
Leone, directing them to aid the explorers in their ex-
plorations. Having touched at the Gambia, they arrived
at Sierra Leone, March 22, 1818. The Governor and
other officers received them with great personal kind-
ness, and very literally obeyed the instructions of the
Home Government, as to furnishing facilities for inquiry,
but did not conceal their unwillingness that an Ameri-
can Colony should be established in their vicinity. The
principal merchants felt the same unwillingness.

They were more cordiall}^ received by the members
of the " Friendly Society," instituted among the colo-
nists at the suggestion of Paul Cuffee in 1811. Its
President, John Kizell, who had been a slave in the
West Indies and the United States, entered heartily into
their plans, accompanied them on some of their explo-
rations, and introduced them to native chiefs over w4iom
he possessed much influence. They examined the coast
as far as Sherbro, obtained promises, that, on the arrival
of colonists, suitable land should be furnished for their
settlement, and being unable, for want of time and funds,
to visit the Bassa Country, Cape Palmas, Accra, and the
Bight of Benin, as they desired, returned to Sierra

HISTOKICAL DISCOURSE. 75

Leone, and, May 22, embarked for England on their
homeward voyage.

When they left home, Mills was suffering from a pul-
monary disease. The climate of England aggravated
it. That of Africa suspended its operation, as it often
does. A few days after leaving Sierra Leone it re-
turned, aided by a severe cold; and on the 16th
of June, he gently expired, and at sunset his body was
committed to the ocean. Nearly thirty years ago, I
wrote, " It was fitting that the remains of such a man,
whose character no monument could suitably represent,
should rest where none could be attempted." Now, it
has been made my duty to say, that, if the Society will
cause a monument to his memory to be erected in Libe-
ria, the funds are ready to defray the expense. Liberia
has recorded her debt to both explorers, by uniting their
names in the name of Millsburgh, which, as the record
states, was devised for that purpose.

Their report established the fact, that territory might
be procured and a colony planted. But how was the
Society to plant a colony, with less than three thousand
dollars in its treasury, and its receipts less than one
hundred dollars a month ? "A great political necessity "
furnished the means.

The Act of Congress of March 2, 1807, had prohib-
ited the importation of slaves after the end of that
year, and provided for punishing the importer ; but the
slave so imported became subject, like all other persons,
to the laws of the State in whicli he was found. In

76 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

several of the States, laws were enacted and legal pro-
ceedings devised, under which it was still found profita-
ble to import slaves, and incur the penalty, if it could
not be evaded, as it often was. The first attempt to
interfere with this policy of the slave-traders was made
by the legislature of Georgia. That legislature enacted,
Dec. 19, 1817, that the Governor should take all such
imported slaves out of the hands of private speculators
into his own custody, and sell them at auction for the
benefit of the State treasury ; provided, however, that
if the Colonization Society would undertake to trans-
port them to Africa, and would pay all expenses in-
curred by the State, the Governor was requested to aid
the Society as he might deem expedient. This was the
first official movement, if not the first suggestion, for
the return of recaptured slaves to Africa.

The Act of Congress of April 20, 1818, increased the
penalties of importation, but still left the slaves im-
ported subject to the laws of the several States, and the
work still went on.

While Gen. Mercer was preparing the Second Annual
Report, to be presented in January, 1819, his attention
was drawn to these laws, and the practice under them.
The Report discussed the subject, and about forty pages
of its appendix were filled with documents showing the
facts. In Congress, Gen. Mercer procured the drafting
of a bill to remedy the evil, which passed both Houses,
and was approved by the President, Monroe, March 3,
1810. By this Act, all slaves illegally imported, or taken

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 77

at sea, were to be kept in the custody of the United-
States Government till removed beyond the limits of the
United States ; and the President was to appoint an
agent or agents on the coast of Africa to receive them,
and the sura of one hundred thousand dollars was
appropriated to meet the expense.

About six weeks after this Act was passed, the Hon.
W. H. Crawford of Georgia, Secretary of the Treasury,
found, in a Georgia newspaper, an advertisement of
illegally imported slaves, to be sold at auction under the
State law of 1817. He immediately informed the Soci-
ety ; and the Rev, William Meade was sent to Georgia
as its agent, to receive them in behalf of the Society.
Litigation with Spanish claimants prevented immediate
success; but, some years afterwards, they were delivered
to the Society, and sent to Africa. There was then
about fifty thousand dollars in the State treasury, as
the proceeds of such sales. This the Society hoped to
obtain ; but there was no law authorizing the Governor
to pay it over, and it was not done.

President Monroe, as appears by his Message of Dec.
17, 1819, understood the law of March 3 to mean, that
a suitable residence must be provided, on the coast of
Africa, for the agents and those intrusted to their care.
For this purpose he determined to send a ship to the
coast, with two agents, and the necessary men and
means to procure a place and make it habitable.

Evidently, this work of the Government and the en-
terprise of the Society might best be prosecuted by

78 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

their united action in establishing one settlement, where
the agents of both should reside, and to which emigrants
and recaptured slaves should be sent. The Government
appointed the Rev. Samuel Bacon, already in the service
of the Society, as its agent, Avith whom Mr. John P.
Bankson was afterwards associated. The Society ap-
pointed Dr. Samuel A. Crozer its sole agent. The Gov-
ernment chartered the ship " Elizabeth," of three hun-
dred tons, and " agreed to receive on board such free
blacks, recommended by the Society, as might be required
for the purposes of the agency." Dr. Crozer took out
goods and stores for the purchase of land and the use of
the emigrants. The emigrants were all considered as
attached to this joint agency of the Government, and
were to be entirely subjected to its control till regularly
discharged. They were to erect cottages for at least
three hundred recaptured Africans, and cultivate land
for their own subsistence. For the expenses of the
expedition, the Government placed more than thirty
thousand dollars in the hands of Mr. Bacon, and sent a
ship of war to co-operate. Thus provided, the " Eliza-
beth" sailed from New York, Feb. 6, 1820, with eighty-
eight emigrants from Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania,
and New York.

And in this co-operation, to which the Government
found itself forced by its own necessities, the Society
first found the power to go forward and accomplish its
work. And if the ancients were right in considering
the immense fountain which bursts forth by the side of

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 79

a streamlet and transforms it into a river, the true
source of the river, to be honored by altars and worship,
with equal propriety may your monuments distinguish
this point in the stream of your history.

President Monroe appears to have been a constant
friend of colonization ever since 1801, when, as Governor
of Virginia, he corresponded with Jefferson on the sub-
ject. He gave an attentive ear to the Annual Reports
of the Society, showing the condition of the slave-trade,
and the need of action for its suppression. His known
sentiments encouraged Gen. Mercer to prepare and pro-
cure the enactment of the law of 1819. His interpreta-
tion and execution of that law furnished the means by
which the work was begun. And the then youthful and
ardent friend, whose presence forbids fit eulogy now,
was right, when he first suggested that the metropolis
of the nascent State should, by its name, commemorate
his merits.

The first emigrants were to erect houses for three
hundred recaptured slaves. The whole number of such,
for whom the Government has found it necessary to
provide through the Society, has been five thousand
seven hundred and twenty-two. The resident agency
of the United States for recaptured Africans continued,
though occasionally vacant, till the declaration of Libe-
rian independence. All this could not have been done,
and well done, without a colony large and strong enough
to live by its own vitality ; and, therefore, the substan-
tial success of our enterprise was a national necessity.

80 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

Such, as we have seen, were the forces which caused
this Society to be formed ; such the process of its for-
mation ; such the national need of its aid, which pro-
cured for it the means of successful activity. Having
seen these, let us pass rapidly over events, the exciting
and tragic interest of which have caused them to be
abundantly recorded elsewhere, — the arrival of the
" Elizabeth " at Sierra Leone ; the cordial reception of
the emigrants by Kizell, at Campelar, his own place on
Sherbro Island ; the discouraging attempts to purchase
land for a permanent settlement, defeated, — not by the
treachery of Kizell, for he was no traitor, — but by
secret influences from those at Sierra Leone, who wished
the colony all success, but at a much greater distance
from themselves; the hardships, sickness, and deaths
heroically endured ; the removal from Campelar to
Fourah Bay ; the purchase of Cape Mesurado by Capt.
Stockton and Dr. Ayres, at the risk of their lives ; the
arrival of the colonists, and their lodgment on an island,
Jan. 7, 1822 ; the occupation of the Cape, April 25 ; the
return of the agents, and the proposal that the emi-
grants also should return, and the enterprise be aban-
doned ; the heroic reply of Elijah Johnson, " No : I
have been two years searching for a home in Africa,
and I have found it; and I shall stay here;" the heroic
determinatiom of the others to remain with him ; his ap-
pointment as sole agent ; the troubles and dangers from
the first, and then, and afterwards, from a host of native
kings, who regretted the sale of the Cape, and determined

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 81

to expel or exterminate the colony, lest it should inter-
fere with the slave-trade ; the offer of a force of marines
from a British man-of-war, if Johnson would only cede
a few feet of ground on which to erect a British flag ;
his prompt reply, " We want no flag-staff put up here,
that will cost more to get it down again than it will to
whip the natives ; " the arrival of Ashmun, and his
assumption of the agency, Aug. 9, 1822 ; his energetic
labors, both diplomatic and military, for the protection
of the colony ; the assault on the settlement on the
morning- of Nov. 11, by about eight hundred natives,
and their repulse by the thirty-five colonists, capable
of bearing arms ; the second assault, by perhaps twice
their former number, Dec. 2, and their final defeat.
Passing by all these, let us examine a crisis in the affairs
of the colony, involving and elucidating a principle, and
itself needing elucidation.

There had been complaints against the colonists of
turbulence and insubordination. They, in turn, accused
the Agents of oppression and other offences. The trouble
grew into what was called " mutiny " and " sedition."
Numbers utterly refused obedience to the Agent, and
proceeded to take forcibly their supply of food from the
public store. How can we account for the fact, that such
men as Lot Gary, and others, were betrayed into such
conduct ? True, there had been complaints about the
distribution of lands, and other acts of the several Agents,
and representations had been sent to the Society ; but
these are insufficient to explain it.

82 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

The explanation must be found in the fact, that the
colony had really no civil government. What occupied
the place of a civil government was a pure despotism
of an agent, resting on no legal basis, and possessing
no physical force with which to compel obedience. Of
course, the colonists, though they appear to have been
far from comprehending the difficulty, felt that some-
thing was wanting, something out of order, something
wrong; and were " insubordinate."

That such an assertion may be received, it needs to
be proved. Consider, then, that the " Elizabeth " and
her company were sent out by the United States, and not
by the Society. Ship, money, and men were under the
direction of the government's agents, with instructions
to build houses for three hundred recaptured slaves.
Their instructions said, " You are not to exercise any
power or authority founded on the principles of coloni-
zation, but to confine yourselves to that of performing
the benevolent intentions of the Act of Congress of
March 3, 1819." And the President, in his message of
Dec. 20, 1819, said that they would receive "an ex-
press injunction to exercise no power founded on the
principle of colonization, or other power than that of
performing the benevolent offices above recited, by the
permission and sanction of the existing government
under which they may establish themselves." There is
not only no authority given to the agents to establish a
government, but an express assumption that the place
selected would be under a government existing inde-

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 83

pendently of them, " by the permission and sanction "
of which they would act. Evidently the colonists had
no civil government derived from this source.

Does the deed of cession by which the territory
was holden throw any light on the subject ? That
deed

" Witnesseth, That whereas certain persons, citizens of the
United States of America, are desirous to establish themselves on
the western coast of Africa, and have invested Capt. Robert F.
Stockton and Eli Ayres with full j^owers to treat with and purchase
from lis, the said kings, princes and headmen, certain lands
[which are described], we do hereby, in consideration of [certain
specified articles of merchandise], forever cede and relinquish the
above-described lands to Capt. Robert F. Stockton and Eli
Ayres, To Have and To Hold the said premises for the use of
these said citizens of America."

We must carefully observe that Capt. Stockton and
Dr. Ayres do not appear in this transaction as agents of
the United States, or of the Colonization Society, but
as agents of " certain persons " who were " desirous of
establishing themselves on the western coast of Africa,"
that is, of the colonists. The colonists, the deed says,
had invested them with full powers to treat with kings
for the cession of territory. Certainly, land bought by
their authorized agents for their use, and ceded for their
use " forever," was their land. It never became the
property of the United States, or of the Society. The
next paragraph confirms this view : —

84 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

"The contracting parties pledge themselves to live in peace and
fi-iendship forever ; and do further contract not to make war, or
otherwise molest or disturb each other."

The " contracting parties " who thus mutually pledge
themselves are evidently the kings, princes and head-
men, on the one part, and the colonists on the other.

With the right of soil, the right of jurisdiction passed
from the kings to the other contracting party, — the
colonists. They were the supreme lords of the soil, and
had a natural right to organize and establish a govern-
ment for it. But they had not exercised that right.
There was no existing civil government resting on that
basis.

The Society had acted on this subject seasonably. Its
Board of Managers, June 26, 1820, while the emigrants
were still at Campelar, adopted a " Constitution for the

Government of the African Settlement at ." Of

course, it could not go into operation as a civil gov-
ernment " at ," or at all, while they were living

within the jurisdiction of some other government
already established. Its first article, as amended Dec.
20, was, —

"All persons born within the limits of the territory held by the

American Colonization Society in , or remaining there to

reside, shall be free, and entitled to all such rights and privileges
as are enjoyed by the citizens of the United States."

By its own terms, it applied only to territory held by

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 85

the Society ; and Cape Mesurado, as has been shown,
was not held by the Society, but by Capt. Stockton and
Dr. Ayres, as agents of the emigrants ; that is, by the
emigrants themselves. What authority had a consti-
tution, formed by an unincorporated association of
private individuals in another country, three thousand
miles off, over a territory which was not their property,
but the property of its inhabitants, who, acting as a
sovereign people, had procured it by a treaty of cession
and peace with sovereign princes ? The seventh arti-
cle however, provides that " every settler coining to the
age of twenty-one years, and those now of age, shall
take an oath or affirmation to support the constitution."
Mr. Ashmun, in his address to the colonists, March 22,
1824, reminded them that they had taken that oath. By
that oath, the individuals who took it certainly placed
themselves under a moral obligation to obey the consti-
tution thus made for them by others, though they had
never adopted it, as a body, by any public act. Let us
look, then, at its provisions.

The first article, as we have seen, provides that all
the colonists should be entitled to " all such rights and
privileges as are enjoyed by the citizens of the United
States." The word " citizens," having been substituted
by amendment for "free people," must be taken to
secure all the rights and privileges by which citizens are
distinguished from " people " merely " free." The oath
bound them to support this article as much as any
other.

86 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

" Art. 2. — The Colonization Society slinll, from time to time,
make all such rules as they may think fit for the government of
the settlement, until they shall withdraw their agents, and leave
the settlers to govern themselves."

This expressly takes from these " citizens " the " right
and privilege " of making any law or " rule " for their
own government, and subjects them to whatever rules
the Society shall " see fit " to make for them ; and, taken
in connection with the tenth article, restrains them from
the "' right and privilege " of altering or amending their
own constitution, and confers that right on the Man-
agers of the Society. The eighth article confers unlim-
ited legislative power on the Society's resident Agents,
subject only to repeal by the Board of Managers.

The third article invests the Agents with all judicial
power, except such as they should delegate to Justices
of the Peace of their own appointment, if they should
choose to appoint any.

The fourth article gives the Agents the appointment
of all officers not appointed by the Board of Managers,
and of judging for themselves what officers are needed.

The "settlers" being thus deprived of all voice in
their own government, either in the making of laws or
the choice of officers to administer them, it is not easy
to see wdiat rights and privileges enjoyed by citizens
of the United States, in distinction from people merely
free, were left to them.

It does not appear from any published record, that
the colonists understood those legal difficulties ; but it

HISTOKICAL DISCOUKSE. 87

is evident from their conduct that they did not feel that
reverence for laws thus made for them, which American
" citizens " usually feel for laws in the making of which
they have borne their part. There was " insubordina-
tion." Ashmun, faithful to the Society and to his own
convictions, did his best to repress it, but in vain. Com-
plaints were sent to the Society against his administra-
tion ; and the evil increased, till, in utter discouragement,
he put the government into the hands of Elijah John-
son, and embarked for the Cape Verde Islands. He had
already informed the Board of Managers, that, in his
opinion, " the evil was incurable by any means which
fall within their existing provisions."

In this emergency, the Government, on representa-
tions of the Society, sent out the armed schooner " Por-
poise," with Ralph Randolph Gurley, a young man then
unknown to fame, duly commissioned and empowered
by the Government and the Society to ascertain the
condition of affairs, and " to make such temporary ar-
rangements for the security of the public interests and
the government of the establishment, as, upon proper
consideration, circumstances might, in his judgment,
require." Touching at Porto Praya, he unexpectedly
met Mr. Ashmun, who returned with him to Cape
Mesurado, where they arrived Aug. 13, 1824.

On their voyage of three weeks to the Cape, they
carefully discussed these troubles, their causes, and their
remedy. After their arrival, the colonists were heard
and consulted, misapprehensions were dispelled, and

88 AISIERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

specific grievances received satisfactory attention. But
the chief attention was given to establishing " an effi-
cient government, founded in the approbation of the
people, and adaptable not only to their present but
future necessities." The probable necessity of such a
work had occurred to Mr. Gurley on his voyage from
the Cape Verdes, if not before ; and facts ascertained
after his arrival fully proved it.

In the end, a "Plan for the Civil Government of
Liberia" was adopted, according to which there was to
be a Vice-agent, appointed by the Agent from three
nominated by the people, unless he saw fit to disapprove
the choice and order a new election. He was to advise
and assist the Agent, and perform his duties in case of
absence or disability. Two Councillors, to be associated
with the Vice-agent as a council on all public affiiirs, and
several important committees, were to be appointed in
like manner. There was to be a judiciary, consisting of
the Agent and two Justices of the Peace appointed by
him; and he was to appoint the necessary executive
officers. The supremacy of the Society, in cases of last
resort, was retained and established.

The colonists, now increased to a hundred, were con-
vened " beneath the thatched roof of the first rude
house for divine worship ever erected in the colony."
The Plan of Government was read and explained to
them, and received their unanimous approval, and sol-
emn pledge "to maintain it as the constitution of their
choice." Receiving also the assent of the special Agent

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 89

of the Society and the United States, sent out with full
power on their part " to establish a government," no one
could deny that it was, from that hour, in force on a
legitimate basis; and, with amendments and changes
regularly made as occasions have required, it is in force
still.

True, the Society had still the ultimate decision of all
questions of government; but it henceforth held this
power, not by its own assumption, but by the vote of
the people, who, by their own act, made the Society a
department of their own government.

This change was not the work of Mr. Ashmun. He
distrusted the fitness of the colonists to take any part
in the government, and only consented to it as an ex-
periment, because some change must be made. He was
even alarmed at its ready and unanimous acceptance by
the people, fearing that they did not understand it, or
reserved the expression of their dissent for a more
favorable opportunity.

Neither was it the work of the Board of Managers.
When reported to them, they resolved, Dec. 29, ] 824,
that " such parts as could not well be dispensed with
might be tried as an experiment of the Agent," but
gave it no further sanction ; and in their Annual Report
in January, without publishing it, plainly intimated
their dissent.

The whole responsibility, therefore, for this Plan of
Government, rested on him who proposed it and those
who adopted it. Events soon justified their action, even

90 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

in the judgment of those who at first condemned it.
At a meeting held May 18, 1825, it was

" Resolved, That tlie Board of Managers, considering the satis-
factory information afforded by recent accounts from the colony
of the successful operation of the plan for the civil government
thereof, as established by their Agents in August last, and seeing
therein reasons to reconsider their instructions to the Agent of the
29th of December, 1824, now approve the principles in that form
of government, and give their sanction to the same."

And in their next Annual Report, January, 1826, they

say,—

" The new system of government organized in the colony im-
mediately after the return of the present Agent, Mr. Ashmun, from
the Cape de Verdes, has resulted in the most beneficial effects.
It was deemed important to render, as far as practicable, all the
political arrangements of the colony, so many preparatory meas-
ures to its independence ; and to this end is the government which
has been established believed to be pai'ticularly adapted. The
whole system went into operation with the full sanction of the
people. The spirit of restlessness and insubordination ceased from
the first day of its operation ; indolence, despondency, and distrust
were succeeded by industry, enterprise, and confidence ; and the
experience of more than a year has confirmed the hope, that it
will, at least for a considerable time, fulfil all the purposes of its
institution."

Mr. Ashmun's distrust, also, soon disappeared. His
despatches authorized and compelled the change of opin-
ion in the Board of Managers. He soon disbanded, as

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 91

useless, the military guard of twelve men, which he at
first thought necessary for his own protection amidst
the dangers of the experiment. And, early in 1828, the
Board received from him a plan of government, the
same in principle, and to some extent in language ; but
drawn out in much greater detail, and placing a much
greater amount of power directly in the hands of the
people ; and at a meeting of the Managers, Oct. 22,
1828, it was adopted by them as the Constitution of Li-
beria.

The modesty of the principal actor, and his delicate
regard for the feelings of others, in his Life of Ashmun
and in the Annual Reports prepared by him, have made
the part he acted less prominent than its merits deserve.
He has even left it doubtful how far he saw the defects
and inconsistencies of the original constitution. But it
is enough for his glory, that he alone among white men
saw the safety of trusting a negro people with some
part in the management of their own concerns; and
that, by boldly acting on his belief, he placed his name
on the not long list of legislators whose wisdom organ-
ized States on principles that secured peace, permanen-
cy, coherence, and a healthy growth.

The second decade, and the first half of the third, —
from 1830 to 1845, — were distinguished by the inde-
pendent action of State societies ; of Maryland first,
purchasing and settling Cape Palmas ; then of New
York ; then of Pennsylvania ; then of Pennsylvania
and New York united, and the planting of the settle-

92 AMERICAN COLONJZATIOM SOCIETY.

ments on the St, John's River by their united action ;
the settmg apart, by the parent Society, of lands for
the Kentucky, Mississippi, and Louisiana Societies, on
which, however, separate colonies were never organized ;
the plan for uniting all these colonies, planted and pro-
jected, in one federal republic ; all these things leading
naturally to changes in the constitution of the Parent
Society, making its supreme Board of Directors mainly
a Board of Delegates from the State Societies. A prop-
er discussion of this period would require a laborious
examination of the published and unpublished docu-
ments of the Parent and the several State Societies,
and of the often conflicting recollections and opinions
of living witnesses. Its discussion is the less impor-
tant, because those arrangements, however expedient
or even necessary they may have been or appeared to
be at the time, have passed away. Those colonies are
now only parts of a single republic, " one and indivisi-
ble ; " and though most of the State Societies still retain
the power of separate action, they find little occasion
to use it. Let us, therefore, pass on to the next topic
involving a crisis.

January, 1845, the Legislature of Liberia was in ses-
sion ; for, by successive amendments of her constitution,
she now had a legislature, with power to make all neces-
sary laws, subject, however, to the veto of the Society.
She had a governor, — Joseph J. Roberts, — first elected
lieutenant-governor by the people, and appointed gov-
ernor by the Society after the death of Governor Bu-

HISTOKICAL DISCOURSE. 93

chanan, in 1841. Her government was authorized to
make treaties with the neighboring tribes ; but these,
also, were subject to the veto of the Society. For sev-
eral years, however, the Society had found no occasion
demanding the exercise of its veto power. By treaties
with the native powers, several valuable tracts of terri-
tory had been acquired, including some important points
for trade ; and settlements had been made upon them,
and regular government established. Laws had been
enacted, regulating commerce, and imposing duties on
imported goods.

For several centuries, British subjects had been ac-
customed to trade on this coast for slaves and other
African commodities. Even after the act of Parliament
of 1807 prohibiting the slave-trade, they continued the
traffic as they could. Some of them dealt in slaves, at
least till June, 1813, when His Majesty's ship " Thais "
landed forty men at Cape Mesurado, and after a battle,
in which they lost one man killed, stormed the barra-
coons of Bostock and McQuinn, British subjects, and
captured their owners. When direct participation in
the slave-trade had become too dangerous to be con-
tinued, they still carried on a lucrative commerce with
the natives, and with slave-traders of other nations, who
were glad to find on the coast a supply of such English
goods as were necessary for their business. Very natu-
rally, such men were unwilling that a regular govern-
ment, with law, civihzation, and Christianity, should take
possession of their old haunts of trade. They refused

94 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

to obey the laws. They landed goods without paying
duties ; and when the goods were seized by the col-
lector, and sold according to law, they applied to the
British Government for redress.

That Government seems to have been, at first, some-
what embarrassed. It opened a correspondence with
ours, to ascertain whether Liberia was a colony of the
United States. Our government replied, through Mr.
Everett at London and Mr. Upshur at Washington, that
Liberia was not a colony of the United States, but " an
independent political community," founded for benevo-
lent purposes, in which all nations ought to desire its
success ; and that, as such, it needed and had a right to
acquire territory and govern it, which right all nations
ought to respect.

Having ascertained this, the British Government at
once proceeded to sustain the claims of the British
traders, denying the right of the Liberians to acquire
territory by treaty, or to govern that lately acquired ;
though, for more than twenty years, they had been
allowed, without objection, to acquire and govern Cape
Mesurado and other important places ; and they were
made to understand that the British navy would enforce
this decision of the British Government.

These difficulties were now before the legislature.
What could be done? A treaty must be negotiated
with Great Britain. The Liberian Constitution made
no provision for negotiating treaties, except with the
neighboring tribes, and those subject to the veto of the

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 95

Society, The Society was not a sovereign power, with
whom Great Britain could negotiate ; nor had it, under
its own constitution or that of Liberia, any power con-
cerning treaties, except that of veto. A crisis had come,
to which the structure of the Liberian Government was
not adapted. The legislature informed the Society of
the difficulties and dangers growing out of their al-
leged want of national sovereignty, and requested its
consideration and advice.

When the Directors of the Society met in January,
1846, these matters had been before their minds for
months, and they were prepared to act. The constitu-
tion of the Society was amended in several respects, and
especially by striking out whatever related to the gov-
ernment of the colonies. It was then

Hesolved, That, in the opinion of tliis Board, the time has
arrived when it is expedient for the people of the Common-
wealth of Liberia to take into their own hands the whole work of
self-government, including the management of all their foreign
relations ; and that this Society should cease to exercise any part of
the same.

Hesolved, That we recommend to them so to amend their
constitution, as is necessary for the accomplishment of this object.

Hesolved, That we recommend to them to publish to the world
a declaration of their true character, as a sovereign and independ-
ent State.

The resolutions took this shape for the sake of avoid-
ing all appearance of conferring rights of sovereignty on
the people of Liberia. Those rights were theirs already,

96 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

and had been ever since they were a people. They were
advised, not to make themselves into a new sovereign
State not before existing, but to publish a declaration of
their true character, as being one already. It was not
for the Society to give them a new constitution. It was
their right and their duty, as a sovereign people, to
make one for themselves. The Society did not relin-
quish to them its power in their government. What it
had, they had conferred upon it by their constitution,
and they were advised to take it away.

On the reception of this advice in Liberia, the legisla-
ture, at a special session, instructed the governor to
submit the question to the people in their primary
assemblies. The people voted, Oct. 27, 1846, in favor
of assuming the entire responsibility of their govern-
ment. The legislature, at its next session, ordered a
convention of deleo;ates to form a new constitution.
The convention assembled, and, after twenty-one days
of deliberation, adopted, on the twenty-sixth day of
July, 1847, their new Constitution and Declaration of In-
dependence. In September, the Constitution was ratified
by the almost unanimous vote of the people in their
primary assemblies. The Governor, Joseph J. Roberts,
was elected President. On the third day of January,
1848, he delivered his inaugural address ; and the new
government went into operation. In the course of that
year, the independence of the Republic was formally
acknowledged by the governments of Great Britain and

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 97

France. It has since been acknowledged by nearly
all the leading States of Europe and America.

Nor is the young Republic without influence in the
family of nations. In 1853, agents of the British Gov-
ernment were endeavoring to prosecute the coolie-trade
in the vicinity, and even within the legal jurisdiction,
of the Republic. The vigorous and decided measures of
President Roberts checked it; and, after a few words in
Parliament, the attempt was abandoned. A few years
afterwards, agents of the French Government engaged
in a similar attempt so pertinaciously, that President
Benson was obliged to send his predecessor as ambassa-
dor to Paris on the subject. The result was the entire
abolition of that traffic on the whole coast of Africa, east
as well as west.

It was a remark of one of the wisest men who ever
acted as agent for a colonization society, that Divine^
Providence intends Liberia as a proof to all nations, that
free institutions are adapted to the wants and capacities
of every race of men. To prove it, God has taken a
portion of the race that the wisdom of this world would
pronounce — indeed, had pronounced — the most inca-
pable of successful self-government, and has placed the
duty and burden of self-government upon them; and they
have borne it, and they are bearing it, with complete
success. The whole history of Liberia corroborates this
remark, — from the first years of Ashmun, when affairs
went badly for want of self-government ; from Gurley's
first visit, when the introduction of the principle,

98 AMEIUCAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

and a little of the practice, gave peace and pros-
perity ; down to the present time, when that little
young republic is not only recognized as one in the
family of nations, but commands a degree of respect,
and exerts an amount of influence, among the nations,
altogether out of proportion to her population or her
resources.

The principles and designs from which she originat-
ed, and the whole course of her history, and of God's
dealings with her, authorize us to offer with confidence
the prayer for her perpetuity, Esto perpetua.

A few words are demanded by a topic which could
not be introduced in its chronological place without dis-
turbing the continuity of the narrative.

It will be remembered that when Di-. Hopkins visited
Dr. Stiles, in 1773, it was to consult about educating
two young men as missionaries to Africa, and their plan
for a colony grew out of their conviction of the neces-
sity of such a basis for missionary labors ; and that, of
the young men educated through their exertions, two,
in 1826, when they were old, actually sailed to Liberia,
not expecting to live and labor, but to set an example
of Christian enterprise for the land of their fathers.
The missionary element, it is well known, was strong in
the minds of Mills and his associates at Andover, and
of Finley and his brethren in New Jersey. However
strong it may have been in the minds of individuals in
Virginia, it could not well show itself in their legislative

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 99

action, and does not, therefore, appear on the record.
But it was actively alive among the colored people in
that State. They, even as early as 1815, before our
Society was formed, organized an African Missionary
Society in Richmond, which contributed from a hun-
dred to a hundred and fifty dollars annually. This
might be, and probably was, expended in the support
of English missions at or near Sierra Leone. In 1818,
a similar society was formed in Petersburg, which, in
April, 1819, proposed to our Society that some of its
members should be sent out as colonists for missionary
purposes. The Richmond Society sent out its most able
and zealous member, the Rev. Lot Gary, who went out in
our second company, by the "Nautilus," arriving at Sierra
Leone in March, 1821, and was among the first who
took possession of Cape Mesurado. The Richmond So-
ciety is understood to have made remittances to him
for several years, and perhaps to the close of his life, in
1828. Besides his labors at and near his home, he com-
menced a mission, fifty miles distant, among the Vey
people at Cape Mount ; employing John Revey, after-
wards Secretary of the Maryland Colony at Cape Pal-
mas, as a schoolmaster. It was of short continuance ;
but its influence on the mind of one of the pupils led to
the invention, years afterwards, of the syllabic alphabet
for the Vey language, the discovery of which by a Ger-
man missionary, after it had been long in use, excited
much interest in the literary world.

This opening for missions attracted attention in

100 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

Europe. In October, 1825, the Rev. Dr. Bliimhardt,
Principal of the Missionary College at Basle in Switzer-
land, wrote to Mr. Ashmun, requesting information on
the subject. Mr. Ashmun replied favorably the next
April. Four young men were sent out as missionaries.
The climate did not allow this mission to be permanent.
Some died, and the health of others failed : but, before
its dispersion, it exerted a beneficial influence, especially
on the minds of some young Liberians, which is felt to
this day.

The first white missionary from the United States
appears to have been the Rev. Calvin Holton, a Baptist,
who sailed from Boston in the "Vine," in 1826. "He
was not suffered to continue, by reason of death." He
was followed by a noble army of martyrs, Baptist, Meth-
odist, Presbyterian, and Episcopalian ; but their use-
fulness has consisted mostly in the support and direction
given to pious Liberians who have labored under them
or with them, and who often well supplied their places
when vacant. As a result, nearly all the churches in
the Republic contain native communicants, who are con-
verts from heathenism.

In February, March, and April, 1819, two missionary
explorers from Sierra Leone, with an interpreter, care-
fully examined the whole coast from Sherbro to the St.
John's River. They suffered repeatedly from theft, de-
tected and defeated two conspiracies to rob and murder
them, and returned, having found no place where a
mission could be hopefully attempted. Our first emi-
grants sailed in February, 1820.

HISTORICAL DISCOURSE. 101

Now, that whole line of coast, with as much more be-
yond it to the south and east, some five hundred and
twenty miles in all, is under the jurisdiction of a Chris-
tian State, with Christian laws and institutions; with
its common schools, high schools, and college ; with a
nominally Christian population of some fifteen to twen-
ty thousand, and a native population of some hundreds
of thousands, among whom heathenism has lost much
of its power, and is fast losing the remainder ; among
whom missionary stations are numerous, both on the
coast and in the interior; the line of apparent danger,
or even difficulty, silently and quietly receding before
them as they advance. And Liberian Christians are
planning and acting very intelHgently for their advance-
ment.

Attorney-General Erskine, of Liberia, emigrated from
East Tennessee with his father in his boyhood. He has
been, for many years, one of the most able and influen-
tial Presbyterian missionaries there. If our ship, the
" Golconda," has made a successful voyage, she has just
landed at Cape Mount a hundred and forty-four emi-
grants, selected by him in his native region, to strength-
en the settlement at Cape Mount, so as make it a better
base for missionary operations among the Veys.

The Vey people are intimately connected with the
Mandingoes, the great trading-people of Western Africa,
who read, write, and keep accounts in the Arabic
language, and whose commercial intercourse extends
to the comparatively civilized nations of Central Africa,

102 AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY.

where the Arabic is vernacular. To those nations,
European missionary societies have been in vain seek-
ing access through Egypt and Abessinia for half a cen-
tury, Liberia College has already begun to distribute
Arabic books, from the press of the American mission at
Beirut in Syria, among the Man dingoes ; and that
mission has furnished books for further distribution, con-
tainino; a Circular Letter "from the learned men of
Mount Lebanon to the learned men of Moghreb," that
is, of the West, inviting correspondence, and offering a
supply of books through Liberia College, the geogra-
phical position of which, and its objects, are described.
As things move slowly in Africa, the desired result,
though confidently expected, must be distant. But the
planting of those hundred and forty-four missionary
colonists at Cape Mount is exactly the right thing,
at the right place, to hasten it ; and it is only one of
many instances showing the care and thought of Li-
berian Christians for their brethren still in the darkness
of heathenism.

Thus the early missionary plans of Hopkins and
Stiles, of Mills and Burgess, and Finley and Caldwell,
and of Lot Cary and his society at Richmond, are more
than executed already ; and of their ultimate hope, the
Christian civilization of Africa, the dawn distinctly ap-
pears.

ADDRESS

RT. REV. THOMAS M. CLARK, D.D.

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