A memorial of Rev. Joseph Tuckerman

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A MEMORIAL

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Rev. JOSEPH TUCKERMAN.

WORCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS :
1 1888.

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PRIVATE PRESS OF FRANKLIN P. RICE.

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CONTENTS.

PAGE

Biographical Note . . . , v

List of Printed Works .... vii

Funeral Oration on General Washington . i

Seven Discourses on Miscellaneous Subjects 31

Sermon at Ordination of the Rev. Samuel

Gilman . . . . . .225

Sermon at Ordination of the Rev. Orville

Dewey 287

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE,

JOSEPH TUCKERMAN was born in Boston,
Massachusetts, on the 18th of January, 1778. In
1798 he graduated from Harvard College, which
in later years conferred the degree of Doctor of
Divinity upon him. He then studied for his pro-
fession, and was settled over a parish in Chelsea
in 1 80 1, where he remained for twenty- five years.
During this time he was instrumental in forming
the "American Seaman's Friend Society," the first
of its kind in the United States, for whose benefit
he wrote a number of tracts which had large cir-
culation.

In 1826 he removed to Boston, to begin "The
Ministry at Large," a city mission for the poor on
a broad basis, which soon came to be connected
with "The Benevolent Fraternity of Churches," an
association of several parishes for cooperative charity.

VI

During a visit to Europe in 1833-4, he assisted in
establishing the Ministry at Large in London and
Liverpool, besides greatly stimulating work of a like
nature in other places. In this work he continued
to labor until 1838, when his health broke down
completely. He died in Havana, March 20th, 1840.

His life was one of self devotion and earnest
labor for the good of others. His "Poor's Purse"
was kindly supplied with voluntary subscriptions
from those whose sympathy was excited by his
stirring words and deep love of his work ; and
notably by a Society of Ladies who called them-
selves "The Tuckerman Sewing Circle," and met
monthly for the sale of their own works of inge-
nuity, passing the proceeds over to him. This
Society still exists, and still continues its charitable
labors. The impetus which he gave to intelligent
philanthropy has not yet passed away, either in
this country or in England.

The list of his printed works, which is here ap-
pended, is necessarily imperfect, as he kept no record
of them. He contributed largely to the "Monthly
Anthology and Boston Review," the "North American
Review," the "Christian Examiner," and other period-
icals ; and wrote many tracts for sailors and others,
some of which went through a number of editions.

LIST OF PRINTED WORKS.

*** The publications of Mr. Tuckerman in the libraries named are indicated by
letters as follows: H., Harvard University; B., Boston Athenaeum; A., American
Antiquarian Society.

1. A Funeral Oration occasioned by the death of General
George Washington, before the Boston Mechanic Association.
Boston, 1800. 8vo, pp. 24. H. B. A.

2. A Sermon before the Ancient and Honorable Artillery
Company. Boston, 1804. 8vo, pp. 23. H. B. A.

3. Seven Discourses on Miscellaneous Subjects. Boston,
1813. i2mo, pp. 180. A.

4. A Sermon at the Ordination of Rev. Samuel Gilman.
Charleston, S. C, 1820. 8vo, pp. 46. H. B. A.

5. Two Sermons preached at Marblehead. Salem, 1820. B.

6. A Sermon on the Twentieth Anniversary of his Ordina-
tion. Boston, 1 821. 8vo. H. B. A.

7. A Discourse before the Society for propagating the Gos-
pel among the Indians and others in North America. Cam-
bridge, 1 821. 8vo, pp. 48. B. A.

8. A Sermon at the Ordination of Rev. Orville Dewey. New
Bedford, 1824. 8vo, pp. 41. H. B. A.

9. Letter on the principles of the Missionary Enterprise.
Boston, 1826. i2mo. H. B.

10. Extract from an Address. 1826. i2mo.

Vlll

11. Quarterly Reports as Minister at Large, 1826, 1827I H. B.

12. A Sermon : Religion a Practical Principle. 1828. B.

13. Semi-annual Reports, &c, 1 828-1 833. H. B.

14. A Letter to Hon. Harrison Gray Otis, respecting the
House of Correction and Common Jail in Boston. 1830. i2mo.

15. Prize Essay on the Wages paid to Females. Philadel-
phia, 1830. i2mo. H. B.

16. Report of the Commissioners appointed by the Order of
the House of Representatives on the Pauper System of the
Commonwealth. Boston, 1832. 8vo. H.

17. Report on a Farm-School. 1832. 8vo.

18. Introduction to the American translation of Degerando's
Visitor of the Poor. 1832. i2mo, pp. 30. H. B.

19. A Sermon: the Gospel a Blessing to the Poor. 1832. B.

20. A Letter to the Executive Committee of the Benevolent
Fraternity of Churches, on the Ministry at Large. 1834. 8vo. B.

21. A Sermon at the Ordination of C. F. Barnard and F. T.
Gray as Ministers at Large. 1834. 8vo. H. B.

22. Address on the Obligation of Christians to become
Ministers. Newcastle, England, 1834.

23. The First Annual Report of the Association of Delegates
from the Benevolent Societies of Boston. 1835. i2mo. H. B.

24. Gleams of Truth, or Scenes from Real Life. 1835. H*

25. A Letter respecting Santa Cruz as a Winter Residence,
addressed to Dr. J. C. Warren. 1837. $vo. H-

26. The Principles and Results of the Ministry at Large in
Boston. 1838. i2mo, pp. 327. H. A.

27. Joseph Tuckerman on the Elevation of the Poor. A
Selection from his Reports as Minister at Large in Boston.
With an Introduction by Edward Everett Hale. Boston, 1874.
i2mo, pp. 206. H. A.

A FUNERAL ORATION

OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF

$mtnl $mp Wa0luwjt0tt*

A FUNERAL ORATION

OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF

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WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF THE

Boston Mechanic (-Association,

AND

Delivered before them, on the 2 2d of Feb. 1800.

By JOSEPH TUCKERMAN.

Consulere patriae, parcere afflictis fera
Caede abstinere, tempus atque irae dare,
Orbi quietem, saeculo pacem suo.
Haec summa virtus; petitur hac coelum via.

Seneca.

BOSTON:
PRINTED BY MANNING & LORING.

At a Meeting of the Trustees of the Mechanic Asso-
ciation, Feb, 22, 1 8 00.

ON Motion, Voted, That the Thanks of the President and
Trustees of this Association, in behalf of the Mechanic
Interests of the Town of Boston, be presented to Mr. Joseph
Tuckerman, for the pathetic, elegant and judicious Oration,
commemorative of the sublime virtues and pre-eminent Services
of the late GENERAL WASHINGTON, delivered by him this
Day; and that he be requested to furnish a Copy thereof for
the Press.

A true Copy of Record, JAMES PHILLIPS, SecWy.

Boston, February 24, 1800.
SIR,
WE have the Pleasure to communicate the following unani-
mous Vote of the Board of Trustees of the Mechanic Association;
and to assure you of the respectful Consideration with which we
have the honor to be,

Your most obedient, humble Servants,

JONATHAN HUNNEWELL,

BENJAMIN RUSSELL,
WILLIAM TODD.

Mr. Joseph Tuckerman.

Boston, February 24, 1800.
GENTLEMEN,
WITHOUT apology, I present to you the Oration written at
your request. Its favorable reception demands my gratitude;
and I only desire, that it may be perused with that candor,

which should ever distinguish those productions, which derive
their principal merit from the subject by which they are occa-
sioned.

I am, Gentlemen,

With great respect,

Your humble Servant,

JOSEPH TUCKERMAN.
Mr. Jonathan Hunnewell,
Mr. Benjamin Russell,
Mr. William Todd.

WASHINGTON.

<&mtttmtn of tijt JWccfjanfc association,

W E have assembled to commemorate
an event, which will ever be considered as
one of the most interesting and melancholy,
in the history of our country. An event,
which, as it awakens every mournful sen-
sation, should also excite our gratitude to
him who is the disposer of all things, and
to whose divine interpositions we are in-
debted for our freedom, sovereignty and
independence.

It is, Gentlemen, perfectly consistent
with the character which you have uni-
formly presented, to meet at this time, in

8

order to pay the last respects to the
memory of your departed friend and polit-
ical father. Many of your interest have
shared with him, the arduous toils in which
he was engaged, and by the firmness of
their conduct, acquired those stations, which
could be gained only by superior merit.
With these advantages, you are sensible of
his worth, and are desirous of exhibiting
the only testimony of affection which is
now in your power. To this exercise you
are prompted by the best inclinations of
your natures ; and he who has implanted
gratitude in man, and given him a spirit to
understand and to support his rights, will
look with an approving smile'on this pleas-
ing and instructive duty.

On this day, we have been accustomed
to indulge the fervor of our love, in cele-
brating the birth of WASHINGTON. A
recollection of the services which he per-
formed, of the dangers to which he was
exposed, and the unparalleled magnanimity
which he at all times discovered, then

served to keep alive the flame of patriot-
ism in our breasts, and constantly to render
his character more dear to our minds. On
this occasion, every heart exulted, and every
tongue proclaimed his praise. We reverted
to the season, when, governed by foreign
laws and foreign manners, we existed only
as the tributaries of a nation, to whose
command our resources were subjected,
and by whose authority every action was
controlled. The powerful contrast between
this condition and that which was secured
to us by the first of men, called forth the
warmest effusions of our souls, and induced
us to behold him as formed by Heaven,
for the accomplishment of this great and
important end. To him, we traced all the
happiness which resulted from liberty, and
all the blessings which were attached to a
free Constitution.

But for the testimonials of joy, we now
substitute the badges of grief; and the
pleasure which beamed from every coun-
tenance, is exchanged for the gloominess

IO

of sorrow. If then it be permitted to regret
the loss of a friend, endeared to us by a
similarity of sentiment ; if we may lament
a removal of our benefactor, who has in-
terfered in the hour of distress, and rescued
us from ruin ; if we may indulge our re-
flections on the deprivation of a parent,
who has sacrificed his own to procure our
enjoyment ; or rather, who has found his
highest satisfaction in promoting our fe-
licity, it cannot be deemed improper to
express our feelings, when death has taken
from us one, in whom all these character-
istics were connected. Let us then en-
deavor to analyze the life, and to display
the merits of our illustrious Chief. These
are so well known, that a relation of them,
will only be a recurrence to those impres-
sions, which are deeply engraven on the
memories of all.

General WASHINGTON was born on
the twenty-second of February, seventeen
hundred and thirty-two, and was the son
of a planter, residing in the State of Vir-

1 1

ginia. Under the direction of a private
tutor, he imbibed those maxims, which
have consummated his greatness, and se-
cured for his country an unrivalled respect
among the nations of the world. His de-
sire for military attainments, presented
itself among the first impulses of his mind.
At the early age of fifteen, when youth,
accustomed only to the domestic circle,
shrinks from the appearance of danger, he
had made preparations to enter the marine
service in the capacity of a midshipman.
Yielding however to the solicitations of a
fond mother, he abandoned this favorite
intention. Scarce four years had elapsed,
before he was again invested with the
insignia of a soldier ; and such were the
extent of his views, the richness of his
invention and the fortitude of his mind,
that at twenty-one he was deputed on a
commission, which required for its execu-
tion the hardihood of a veteran, and the
skill of an accomplished General. His
remonstrances not being attended with the
desired effect, he was sent to gain by his

12

prowness, what the force of argument
would not produce ; and in his conquest
at Redstone, he gave a prelude of those
abilities, which, but a short time after this,
saved from destruction the scattered forces
of a British officer,* whose haughty spirit
disdained to receive instruction from one,
so much younger than himself in the arts
of war.

At the establishment of peace in seven-
teen hundred and sixty-three, he retired to
his estate, to cultivate the milder virtues
of private life ; and formed that connexion,
from which he anticipated his future hap-
piness. At this time he probably acquired
that love of retirement, which appeared
so conspicuous through the rest of his
life. In seventeen hundred and seventy-
four, he was a member of the Conti-
nental Congress ; and on the fifteenth of
June, '75, was unanimously chosen by
them, commander in chief of the American
armies. The manner in which he per-
formed this duty, through the long and

* General Braddock.

*3

tedious space of eight years will not require
a recital. Or, if any would ask for evi-
dences, we would point to almost every
part of our extensive country. We would
ask him to behold the present state of our
nation, which, under God, is indebted to
his exertions, for the greatest portion of
the respectability by which it is distin-
guished.

Among the many instances of valor which
appear in his life, we might advert to the
prudent, yet determined conduct, which
preserved this town from the destructive
fury of its disappointed adversaries. We
might call your attention to witness the
immortal glory which he acquired at York,
Trenton, Monmouth and Princeton. But
it will be sufficient at this time to ob-
serve, that having to regulate, to clothe
and to arm an undisciplined body of men ;
and not only to contend with the power of
his enemies, but with the doubts, the prej-
udices and the wants of those who had
enlisted under his banners, he achieved

those wonders, which will ever command
the admiration of the world. He was, in
effect, the absolute ruler of our nation ;
and from his acceptance of the supreme
command, to his resignation in seventeen
hundred and eighty-three, its whole opera-
tions were directed by his counsels.

Our rights being secured, the necessity
of establishing them on a permanent foun-
dation was soon perceived. The disordered
state of our finances, and the derangement
of our public affairs urged the immediate
performance of this. And in the Conven-
tion assembled for the purpose, WASH-
INGTON was elected to the Presidential
chair.

In seventeen hundred and eighty-nine,
he was elevated by his countrymen to the
dignity of President of the United States ;
and having twice officiated in this capacity,
with that wisdom which was peculiar to
himself, he again took his leave of public
life. He descended from the most honor-

*5

able station in which he could be placed
by the power of man, to the humble rank
of a citizen. I say the most honorable
station, because it was given by the suf-
frages of a free people, who were acquainted
with the excellence of his character, and the
benefits, which from this source had re-
sulted to his country. His farewell address
contains the principles on which his gov-
ernment was founded ; and comprises a
system of national policy, unexampled in
ancient or modern times. An observance
of its directions will lead to true greatness,
and furnish characters like himself, to per-
petuate our glory and our happiness.

The official letters of General WASH-
INGTON, during our revolutionary war,
will be preserved as a record of the strength
of his abilities, the purity of his motives,
and the address with which he treated
every subject connected with his station.
They will teach your children the hardships
which he encountered, the discourage-
ments which appeared at every step of his

i6

progress, and the unshaken virtue which
he exercised, even in situations, where it
could scarcely be deemed a crime to deviate.
In perusing these, they will contemplate
with wonder, his soldiers unused to war,
and wavering through fear at those periods
when fortitude was most essential ; and
yet, with his assistance, performing works,
which would have reflected honor on troops
inured to toil, and accustomed to success.
But they will particularly observe his re-
liance on the Providence of Almighty God,
and the firmness of his mind, which pro-
ceeded from a consciousness that he was
contending only for that freedom, which
the God of nature intended for his rational
offspring. Liberty, and not conquest, was
the object of his wishes ; and so plainly
does this appear, that even calumny has
not dared to offer a contradictory insinua-
tion.

If we were here to close our retrospect
of the conduct of this wonderful man,
posterity would consider no additions as

•-"

necessary for the completion of his virtues.
As a hero and legislator he will ever stand
superior to competition, and be quoted as
a model of all which can dicmifv the char-
acter. and secure glorious fame. But if we
contemplate him in his retreat, interes:
indeed for the welfare of his country, yet
unambitious of preferment ; if we view him
as acting in the capacity of a common juror ;
and again, when our privileges were en-
dangered by foreign aggression, consent-
ing to quit the scenes of tranquillity to
which he had become strongly attached,
and accepting a second situation in com-
mand, we shall acknowledge that he has
attained the summit of human excellence,
and that panegyric is lost in the mention
of his name.

WASHINGTON in early life, possessed
a warm and impetuous disposition. This
was probably the cause, which incited him
so early to commence that career, which
has been so honorable to himself and so
productive to his country. But with a

3

i8

heart which was influenced by every tender
sensibility, he corrected that ardour, which
might otherwise have produced the most
unhappy effects. He knew how to mingle
ambition with humility ; zeal, with pru-
dence ; and a love of his country, with a
love of mankind. He possessed the most
essential qualities of the most renowned
men ; and has been so wise, yet unaffected
in every measure which he proposed ; so
regular, yet resolved in every action, that
in a review of his virtues, we know not
which most to commend. By his unvaried
presence of mind, he secured the admira-
tion of the brave, and by his caution, he
won their confidence ; by the judiciousness
of his administration, he acquired the es-
teem of that band of patriots over whom
he presided ; and by the purity of his life,
gained the affection of the good, and the
hallowed remembrance of ages yet unborn.

The character of the beloved hero, whose
death we deplore, was marked with those
traits, which are rarely to be discerned

*9

among the conquerors of mankind. Chris-
tian benevolence glowed in his heart, and
animated his conduct in every situation.
To be generous, is ever the characteristic
of a brave man. It is a quality so nearly
related to true courage, that wherever it
cannot be perceived, we pronounce the
action to be rash and unmanly. Every
imputation of this kind was avoided, by
that spirit of humanity, which was mingled
with every deliberation. He fought only
for the religion and civil rights, which were
bestowed on us by the God whom we
served, and used no other methods for the
acquisition of these, than what were con-
sistent with the end which he proposed.
In passing with him through the late con-
test, which terminated in the independence
of our country, we may indeed lament, that
so many fell as victims of delusion ; but we
must love the heart, which melted with
pity for the sufferings of an adversary ; we
must venerate the man to whom no one
was indifferent, and who possessed those
feelings, which equally recommended him

20

to friends and foes. The trade of war was
to him unknown. And that systematical
cruelty, which within a few years has deso-
lated families, extirpated thousands from
the earth, and immolated on its bloody
shrine, the innocent mother, with her help-
less children, was avoided by his mild and
pacific temper, which was formed by a love
of the religion of the Prince of Peace.

• To benevolence so refined, he added
that humility, without which, greatness
loses half its charms. He was never act-
uated by that pride, which would elevate
him above those to whom his services were
devoted. But viewing himself as one, who,
with the rest was to partake of the sweets,
for which they were mutually laboring, he
considered no man, however low, as unde-
serving of his notice. He possessed a
dignity to which few could rise ; but in him,
it was without any mixture of pride. It
originated from the harmony of his mind,
which gave order to all that he performed.
A truly humble spirit is equally distant

21

from that arrogance, which can contemplate
only its own merit ; and that meanness
and pusillanimity, which dares not aspire
to active virtue. In him it was an oper-
ating principle, which appeared in all his
behavior ; and gave to his character that
mild but uniform lustre, which will con-
tinue brilliant, when those, who in idea
have embraced the subjugation of the
world, shall be sunk in darkness.

To a humble mind, he united an equa-
nimity of temper, which enabled him to act
with undeviating propriety. Amid the
disorders of a tent, and the confusion of
battle, his thoughts were composed, and
his commands the result of meditation.
The greatest warriors who have appeared,
have stamped on their names an indelible
disgrace, by submitting to those turbulent
passions, which a trivial disappointment
has occasioned. The biography of heroes,
is generally a catalogue of crimes. They
have legalized murder, to gratify some
prevailing propensity. But in him, to

22

whom we are now directing your view,
there was displayed an uninterrupted reg-
ularity. He was calm in reflecting on every
action, and unmoved in the hour of dan-
ger. And, if we remember the difficulties
through which he passed, the obstacles he
was obliged to surmount, and the unwearied
patience which he preserved, we shall with-
out hesitancy, place his morality, among the
most distinguished which has adorned the
nature of man.

Such were the virtues which appeared
in his life ; and they originated from that
pure source, from whence alone real worth
can flow. Of this we have an undeniable
testimony, in the legacy which, with pa-
rental tenderness, he has bequeathed to
us. Having there connected religion with
morality, he has made them indispensable
supports of political prosperity ; and ex-
horted us not to indulge supposition, that
one can be maintained without the other.
Reason and experience join to convince us,
that religion is the firmest cement of civil

23

government ; and they who would oppose
this, are not merely the enemies of one
state, or nation, but of mankind. The
ancient law-givers, to ensure the success
of their systems, added to them the author-
ity of the gods : And the modern philos-
ophy, which has been substituted for the
doctrines and precepts of the gospel, pre-
sents a melancholy instance of that de-
pravity, to which those morals are always
subject, which are not established by a
sanction, higher than human resolution.
Thus piety was a striking feature of his life.
Without this, he might indeed have been
a conqueror, and enrolled his name among
the murderers of mankind. Without this,
he might have attained fame and affluence.
But his riches would then have been only
new means of corruption, and his reputation
serve but to extend the curses which would
attend it. Instead of this, we behold him,
equally an example of piety and patriotism.
With a love of his country, which can be
compared only to his love of goodness, he
has reared a fabric, which will continue so

24

long as America is a nation ; and even
when it is decaying with age ; when it yields
to the ravages of time, will command aston-
ishment, as magnificence in ruins.

Few are capable of knowing the trials of
exalted stations. There are many vices,
which from our peculiar situations we are
not able to commit ; but when invested
with power, we have a cloak, under which
they may be concealed from the sight of
man. It is the greatest temptation which
we have to withstand in the present life.
A love of glory leads to excesses, which
the ability of gratifying, too frequently
affords a sufficient palliation for the great-
est crimes. But in the whole progress,
through which we trace the footsteps of
him whom we would now commemorate,
we can perceive no marks, which lead even
to a suspicion of guilt. The malignity of
envy has not been able to place a spot on
his name. In him, we behold one, whom
elevation could not bewilder, nor flattery
deceive. Who received power, as intrusted

25

to him, for the advantage of those by whom
it was bestowed ; and desired more their
peculiar welfare, than his own aggrandize-
ment. We deduce this from evidence the
most incontrovertible ; it is from his con-
duct ; and its truth is so strongly impressed
on our minds, that a relation of it, precludes
the necessity of proof.

With a character so ennobled, we have
been favored. We mention it, not to boast
of his superiority, but to excite our grati-
tude. Surely we cannot recur to the
blessings, which Providence through him
has granted, without feeling those lively
emotions, which favors so signalized should
demand. He was the pride of his friends,
the glory of his country, and the wonder of
the world. By his public virtues, he ac-
quired the admiration both of Europe and
America, and the most celebrated men of
the age have sought the honor of present-
ing their respects to him.* By his domestic

* As an attestation of this, three evidences may be cited,
which are indeed among the most signalized. Dr. Franklin in

26

qualities, he secured the affections of a
family, whose happiness was interwoven
with his own. He had all which could attach
man to existence. His fame had extended
as far as civilization, and his name was
cherished, wherever virtue was loved.
Hail sainted shade ! Thou now inhabitest
a happier clime. We would view thee, as
among the children of the blessed. We
would congratulate thee on the possession
of a crown, which will continue with undi-
minished brightness, when the laurels of
the present life shall fade, and be no longer
a testimony of distinction. Thy name shall
ever live in the memory of a grateful
country, and thine actions be celebrated

his will, bequeathed his gold-headed cane to General WASH-
INGTON, accompanied with the remark, " If it were a sceptre,
he would deserve it." He likewise received a sword from the
King of Prussia, bearing the motto, " From the oldest, to the
greatest General in the world." And from the Earl of Buchan,
" a Box, made of the oak that sheltered the great Sir William
Wallace after the battle of Falkirk. This box was presented to
the Earl, by the Goldsmiths' company at Edinburgh; but feel-
ing his unworthiness to receive this magnificently significant
present, obtained leave to make it over to the man in the world,
to whom he thought it most justly due."

27

with increasing honors. We bid thee fare-
well.

On this occasion, we would sympathize
with the unhappy widow, who peculiarly
experiences the severity of this divine
dispensation ; and with the most sincere
affection, would commend her to him, to
whose presence, we trust, the disembodied
spirit of her husband has now ascended.

To the officers and soldiers of our armies,
we would offer him as an example through
every part of his life. We would demon-
strate from his actions, that religion is not
incompatible with valor ; and urge them
to cultivate his virtues, as they would
attain his greatness.

To all classes of men, we would recom-
mend an obedience to the principles which
he has presented, as the best method of
testifying their sorrow for his loss ; or
rather, to yield an observance to his in-
junctions, whom WASHINGTON rejoiced
to obey. We have been deprived of one,

28

on whom our reliance was placed without
reserve. Let us endeavor as far as pos-
sible to repair this loss, by reposing the
same confidence in ADAMS, his illustrious
successor.

It is worthy of remark, that in seventeen
hundred and seventy-six, WASHINGTON
was intrusted with a dictatorial power. If
ambition had been his favorite passion, he
might now have satiated his appetite. It
may likewise be remembered, that at the
close of the war, when the armies were
disbanded and unpaid, that anonymous
and inflammatory papers were circulated,
to persuade the soldiers to rise, and to
acquire by force, that redress, which it was
not in the power of Government to bestow.
At this time also, he might have taken the
reins of empire, and made himself the
monarch of our nation. But he quelled
the tumult by his eloquence, and allayed
those disordered feelings, which were ready
to burst on the country just rescued from
oppression. The better to display his

29

merits in this respect, we might contrast
him with the late invader of Egypt. We
might oppose that disposition, which pre-
ferred the good of others, to his own fame ;
to that temper which stimulates man to
hesitate at no sacrifice for the accomplish-
ment of his object, and to consider power
as an excuse for every crime, which the
aspiring mind may dictate.

Attend, then, Warriors, Statesmen, Cit-
izens ! and behold one worthy of your
imitation. Equally to be admired in peace
and war ; equally able to command and to
obey. Governed by those eternal prin-
ciples, which proceeded from the source of
truth, he had learned to conquer himself,
before he attempted to subdue others. He
whose military character will form a new
epoch in the pages of history ; whose wis-
dom in design, and prudence in action,
will vie with the united sagacity of the
most celebrated heroes, was a votary of
religion. While therefore we indulge the
language of grief; while with drooping

30

hearts and dejected countenances, we pause
at a remembrance of the loss we have sus-
tained, let us raise our eyes to heaven ; and
recurring to the blessings of which he is
participating, anticipate the time when we
may dwell with him forever.

FINIS.

SEVEN DISCOURSES

ON

MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.

SEVEN DISCOURSES

MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS.

BY J. TUCKERMAN, A. M.

BOSTON :

PUBLISHED BY MUNROE AND FRANCIS,

At the Shakspeare Bookstore, No. 4 Cornhill.

1813.

CONTENTS.

1. The happiness of a life of virtue.

2. The slavery and debasement of a life of vice.

3. The duty of working out our own salvation illustrated and
enforced.

4. The Christian summary of social morality.

5. The evils which are involved in imprudent and unjust
debts.

6. The forgiveness of injuries.

7. The obligations and benefits of the Christian sabbath.

DISCOURSE I.

ISAIAH iii. 10.

Say ye to the righteous, it shall be well with him, for
the reward of his hands shall be given him.

In what consists the chief good of man?
This is an inquiry which all should be able
readily to answer. It is an inquiry which
should early be proposed to every one, and
on which every parent should assist his
children to form the most correct senti-
ments, before their entrance into the world.
By the ideas which we form of the chief
good of life, not only our earliest tastes,
affections, and pursuits are biassed, but our
characters in this world are determined,
and our conditions in the future.

38

In what then consists the chief good of
life ? and what are the means of attaining
it? We all agree, my brethren, in the
general definition, that happiness is the
best good of man. But what is happiness ?
This too is an inquiry, which every one
should be able to answer ; but I believe,
on no subject are opinions more vague
and indeterminate. Often, when we pro-
fess to be happy, we know not why we are
so ; and when we can give a reason for it,
it is often surprising to all but ourselves,
that such a cause should be productive of
such an effect. But are those emotions of
momentary pleasure, which may be re-
pressed as easily as they were excited,
which are as variable as our bodily sensa-
tions, and which may be made the sport of
every passion, worthy of the name of hap-
piness? Can these be the best good of
man ? Have the insatiable desires which
every one experiences, no higher means of
gratification ? Are there no satisfactions,
in their own nature more complete, more
permanent ? It does not require a labor-

39

ious investigation of the faculties and
capacities of man, to learn that it was the
intention of our Creator that we should
seek and possess a happiness, far more
elevated and durable. What then is this
happiness? Are we to seek it within, or
without us? Does it belong to the mind,
or to the body ? We all consider health as
an inestimable blessing ; yet neither we,
nor those about us, are happy in propor-
tion to our health. Property too is a good
which all are seeking, and for which all
are solicitous. Yet it is certain, that wealth
alone will not render us happy. It is ob-
vious, that some of the most affluent are
the most miserable of men. A vigorous
understanding is desirable. But how often
is it accompanied with appetites and pas-
sions, destructive of order and peace ? We
admire the works of a luxuriant and culti-
vated imagination, and some are ready to
envy its possessor, supposing that he must
surely be happy, who is capable of exciting
such sensations in others. But fancy exerts
its creative power, as frequently in pro-

40

ducing wretchedness as pleasure. Shall
we then seek for happiness in fame ? This
is indeed a good which all highly estimate.
Sweet to every ear is the voice of praise,
and most grateful to all would be the con-
viction, that their memories would be cher-
ished, when they had themselves left the
world. But will the applause of the world
repress the passions, which impel to ex-
cesses, and prey upon the peace of the
mind ? Will they silence the reproaches
of conscience, and inspire confidence in
death ? — Or may we hope to obtain it in
the indulgence of the senses ? The eye is
not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear with
hearing. And do you think that the epi-
cure, the lascivious, the intemperate man
is happy ? Alas ! show me one who, in
either of these courses, has found that
happiness which the rational, the immortal
soul demands, and I will submit to his
guidance ; I will follow him in every step
of his successful pursuit. But where is he?
I know him not. But who does not know,
that each of these paths has conducted

4i

thousands to disease, to unutterable an-
guish, and to premature death ? Must all
our inquiries then be vain ? Is happiness
but a phantom, which mocks alike our
solicitations and our labours ? Are we
mistaken in the sentiment which we have
so fondly cherished, that there is a good,
in the possession of which the mind does
not anxiously crave anything beyond it ?
No, my friends. God does not thus sport
with his creatures. The insects, the birds,
the beasts, apparently at least, enjoy all of
which they are capable. Why then are
the enjoyments of man so far below the
standard of his capacities ? The reason is
plain. We seek happiness in objects which
were not designed to confer it. We attach
our strongest affections to pursuits and
gratifications, which involve disappoint-
ment and wretchedness. Where then is
the seat of happiness ? I answer, in the
heart. And what are the means of attain-
ing it ? I reply, a life of obedience to the
will of God. Every act of virtue, per-
formed from a principle of obedience to
6

42

the will of God, is a means of happiness.
This principle is indeed the very soul of
virtue, which is subject to none of the
changes of the world, and is a perennial
source of the purest pleasure. This is the
truth, my brethren, which I would illus-
trate ; and in what subject can any feel a
deeper interest ? All would be happy.
All may be happy, who will live devoted
to the will of God.

The object of this discourse is to shew,
i., that virtue is the best good of this life,
because it secures the greatest happiness ;
and 2dly, if it did not secure the greatest
happiness of this life, it would be infinitely
the best good of man, because it involves
the greatest, the eternal happiness of the
future. "Say ye to the righteous, it shall
be well with him ; for the reward of his
hands shall be given him.,,

i. Virtue is the best good of man, be-
cause it secures in this world his greatest
happiness. By virtue I do not mean that
limited and partial principle, which em-
braces only a few of our personal and

43

social duties. "An action, to be really-
virtuous, must flow from an internal prin-
ciple, which is adapted to produce an
uniform and a regular good conduct."
This principle is the love of God, that first
and great commandment of the gospel.
"It is religion alone which, by uniting
duty and happiness, can forever bind self-
love to the interest of virtue. " There is
no true virtue distinct from religion, and
there is no religion distinct from virtue.
In the love of God alone, originates the
proper love of ourselves, and that love of
one another which is the end, or com-
pletion of the commandment. With these
sentiments of virtue, I will endeavour to
demonstrate by its present effects, that it
is the best good which can be sought in
this world.

In the first place then I observe, that
virtue points us to an object, infinitely
worthy of our best affections and efforts ;
to the pursuit of which we are guided by
unerring principles, and in which we are
certain that success will be the reward of

44

perseverance. This object is the favour
of God ; the approbation of Him, whose
power can satisfy our most extensive de-
sires, and whose goodness, like his power,
is infinite.

What can be of equal worth with the
approbation of God ; the favour of the
Creator and Governour of the world ; the
greatest and the best of Beings ? We
value the esteem of men. It gives us a
rank in society which we desire; it grati-
fies our self-love. But the consciousness
of the approbation of God elevates us
infinitely above the most exalted condition
of this life. It awakens the ineffable satis-
faction of feeling, that we are spiritually
his children. In loving God supremely,
our affections are exposed to no fluctua-
tions, for his character in unchangeable ;
they are exposed to no disappointment,
for he cannot deceive us. Every action to
which we are prompted by the love of
God, is a part of that service which he
requires ; and our duties, as individuals,
as social beings, as dependents on the

45

providence, and subjects of the govern-
ment of God, are so plain, and so admir-
ably adapted to every exigence of life, that
an ingenuous mind cannot mistake them,
nor will any thing be left for him to regret,
by whom they are practised. In every
other pursuit, we are liable to be mortified
by unsuccessful endeavours, though all
our skill be exerted to prevent it ; but
God beholds with favour even a desire, if
it be sincere, of conforming to his will.
He admits him who feels this desire to all
the happiness and all the benefits of the
most intimate intercourse, as a means of
cherishing and strengthening it, and of
securing its accomplishment. In this single
view of its influence, is not virtue then
conducive to the best happiness of this
life ? To be loved by God ; to be assured
that he hears our prayers ; that all the
events of his government are ordered by
infinite wisdom and goodness, and that
every action, performed with a design of
pleasing him, is observed and accepted ; —
these surely are compensations for afflic-

46

tion, which should repress every doubt, and
silence every murmur; they are sources of
gratification pure and inexhaustible. The
approbation of those whom we reverence
and love is alone a reward of every priva-
tion and toil. It makes us rich in poverty;
and is as a shield to our peace against all
the slanders of the wicked. If virtue, then,
obtained for us no other good than the
approbation of God, the certainty that he
beholds us with affection, it would be our
best possession, because it renders us most
independent of the world ; independent
even of the good opinion of the virtuous,
who may misinterpret our best motives,
and join with the vicious in condemning
our best intended actions. It is a perfect
security, that, whatever occurs, is precisely
what we should ourselves have chosen,
could we have discerned all the purposes
of God. Can any happiness be more ra-
tional, more stable, more desirable ?

2dly. Virtue secures our greatest hap-
piness, by repressing the appetites and
passions which occasion misery. Avarice,

47

envy, jealousy, resentment, pride, vanity,
intemperance and lust, are tyrants which
corrupt the affections of the wicked, per-
vert their understandings, and enslave their
wills. This is the language of the New
Testament. " Whosoever committeth sin,"
says the Saviour, "is the servant of sin;"
and " to whom ye yield yourselves servants
to obey/' says the apostle, " his servants ye
are whom ye obey." Hence, said Jesus at
the commencement of his ministry, "I am
come to set at liberty them that are bound ;"
and, again, " if the son shall make you free,
ye shall be free indeed. " Is liberty a bless-
ing? Behold in it, then, my brethren, one
of the rewards of virtue. By the practice
of virtue we are emancipated from the
most ignoble bondage ; from a bondage,
compared with which, the most cruel sla-
very of the body is an inconsiderable evil.
In the subjection of these despotick appe-
tites and passions, consists the first triumph
of virtue ; and their conquest represses a
thousand wants, and preserves us from the
anguish of ten thousand sorrows.

48

Is it objected, that the subjugation of
these appetites and passions is at best but
a deliverance from many troubles, and not
a means of certain happiness ? Look at
that avaricious being, who loves not even
his soul so much as his wealth ; who is at
the same time tormented with desire to
augment his useless stores, and agonized
with fears, lest the inconstant elements, or
the perfidy of man, should strip him of
what he possesses. Would not a mere
exemption from these sufferings be pur-
chased cheaply, at the expence of all his
wealth ? Behold that man, whose mind
and heart are corroded with envy ! The
superior wisdom of another, or his greater
fortunes or influence, or even his more
elevated virtues, make him an object of
hatred. The envious man cannot think of
his rival, without feeling at the same time
the influence of every malignant desire ;
he cannot hear him praised; without un-
utterable suffering. Will you then call
exemption from the power of this passion
an inconsiderable good ? Is not the man

49

advanced far towards happiness, who is
relieved from so much misery ? — See that
man whose soul is harassed with suspi-
cions ! He dashes from his lips the cup
which is presented by the hand of friend-
ship, which might quiet his agitations, and
warm his heart with benevolence, and
seizes with eagerness, and drinks to the
very dregs, the draught which will extend
the most subtle poison to every portion of
his frame. — Behold the slave of revenge !
To gratify his insatiate passion, how many
miseries will he sustain ; to how many
dangers will he expose himself? Nor is
he for a moment certain, that some new
work is not preparing for him, by the
inflexible tyrant whom he serves. — See
the proud man, daily fretted with innu-
merable disappointments ; alternately con-
temning and hating those about him, and
in his turn, hated and despised by those,
on whom he is necessarily dependent ; a
prey to cares which he cannot repress, and
impelled to excesses, the destructive in-
fluence of which no exertions can repair.
7

50

— Behold the vain man, like the gaudy
insect, glittering for a moment in the sun,
and then by a breath of wind stripped of
his wings, creeping unnoticed, or despised
upon the ground. — Behold the slave of
intemperance ! Till he receives the portion
which enfeebles and deranges his powers,
and deadens his sensibility, he is wretched ;
and having recovered from its influence,
he is the sport of every debasing passion,
till he is again insensible. — See the poor
abandoned servant of impure lusts ! His
pleasures are momentary ; but not so are
his pains. Disease infects his body, and
remorse, with its sharpest stings, pierces
his mind. — Yet each of these unhappy
beings blindly follows the impulse of the
passion or appetite to which he has sur-
rendered himself. Hence, my brethren,
far the greatest portion of the murmurs
which assail our ears ; far the greatest part
of that debasement and distress, which we
daily see in our intercourse with the world.
In reducing these passions to obedience to
its dictates, from how much misery does

5i

virtue defend us ? But for the influence
of these appetites and passions, how many
do we know, who might daily enjoy all
which the world could give them ? It
is the office of virtue to scourge these
tyrants into subjection ; and it is one of
the distinguishing privileges of a good
man, that he is delivered from their do-
minion. Does not virtue then promote
the happiness of this life, far more than it
could be advanced, even by the attainment
of all the objects, to which these appetites
and passions impel us ? The happiness of
virtue, compared with that of vice, is the
happiness of freedom compared with that
of slavery ; it is the happiness of inde-
pendence, compared with that of want.
This is the second illustration of our text.
"Say ye to the righteous, it shall be well
with him/' No evil propensity shall prey
upon his peace. He shall be free to follow
the guidance of the virtue which he loves ;
and in conforming to its dictates, he shall
receive his reward.

52

3. Virtue secures an approving con-
science. In the conviction of the appro-
bation of God, and in the possession of
well balanced passions and well governed
appetites, what has man to want or to fear ?
The happiness which a rational and ac-
countable being should pursue, and which
alone is worthy of his exalted nature,
is the happiness of feeling that he has
accomplished, or is pursuing the object,
for which he received his existence and
faculties ; that he has faithfully discharged
the duties, which grow out of his condition
and his various relations. Such a man
recurs to the past without remorse, and
looks to the future without apprehension.
His happiness is a column, resting on the
word of God ; and which every action of
piety and virtue which he has performed,
has at once augmented and strengthened.
— The spirit of a good man may support
his infirmities. Under all the trials of
human life, he has a refuge within his own
breast, to which no assailants from without
can penetrate. In that self- approbation

53

which is sanctioned by the word of God,
he can securely and tranquilly hear the
storm which rages around him, satisfied
that, while the world is governed by a
being of infinite justice and goodness, not
his safety only, but his peace is certain.
But a wounded spirit ; a condemning con-
science ; a mind aware of its guilt, too
irresolute to reform, and anticipating the
threatened judgments of the Almighty; a
conscience tortured with remembrance, and
dreading reflection, who can bear? Who,
for the miserable gratifications of vice,
would deliberately consent to endure this
accumulation of horrors ? Who, in the calm
moment of serious consideration, would
not forego every other possession and
pleasure, for a conscience void of offence
toward God and man ? This, likewise,
my friends, is the rich reward of virtue.
It is a happiness which belongs only to the
virtuous. "The wicked is like the troubled
sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters
throw up mire and dirt/' "There is no
peace to the wicked, saith my God."

54

4thly. Virtue is also favourable to the
acquisition of riches. Do not think, my
brethren, that I wish to support the absurd
sentiment, that the virtuous are always
successful in the pursuit of the interests of
this world ; and that, because a man is
rich, he is therefore virtuous. No. Thou-
sands of the best disciples of Christ, like
their master, are poor. But it is a general
truth, that success is the reward of up-
rightness ; and though many prosper by
knavery, that the dishonest and cunning
are ensnared by their own projects, and
are often ruined by the means which they
have devised for the destruction of others.
In the virtuous we may repose implicit
confidence ; and when they are known, they
receive the patronage and support of the
upright. And to an honest man, how
valuable are his gains ! He has obtained
no part of them by the sacrifice of a prin-
ciple. No one accuses him in the court of
his own conscience ; no one can accuse
him at the throne of God. If he be rich
then, riches are to him means of happiness,

55

for they are means of doing good. But,
my brethren, should a good man be un-
fortunate, he has the high consolation of
reflecting that his misfortunes were not
occasioned by his crimes. If he be poor,
he has 07ily the burden oipovei'ty to sustain,
which is light as the dust of the balance,
when compared with the oppressive, the
intolerable weight of a guilty conscience.
If virtue does not confer wealth, it bestows
that which is of infinitely greater worth,
the ability and disposition cheerfully to
sustain the privations of poverty ; and he
who has maintained his integrity, though
he have lost all beside, has a treasure,
which he who knows its worth, would not
barter for the world. Will you then, for
any of the gifts of fortune, exchange this
happiness ? Be not deceived. I have seen
the wicked in great prosperity, and spread-
ing himself like a green bay tree ; but he
passed away, and lo he was not ; I sought
him, but he could not be found. But mark
the perfect man, and behold the upright !
whether he be rich, or whether he be poor,

56

he is blessed. His wants are conformed
to his circumstances. No turbulent and
craving passions disturb his repose, and
restrain him from the discharge of duties.
In his pursuits, whatever they are, he is
cheerful ; and his gains, however small, are
enjoyed with gratitude. Do you desire
this happiness ? Be virtuous.

5. "A good name," says the wise man,
"is better than precious ointment ;" but
the consciousness of deserving it is still
better than its possession. We naturally
desire the esteem of those about us ; but a
permanent respect and affection can be
obtained only by virtue, which generally
commands deference, even from the aban-
doned. Virtue, indeed, does not always
insure an unsullied reputation. It is the
mark at which the vicious most delight to
direct the arrows of slander. But what is
the reputation which will render us happy ?
Not the noisy applause of an ignorant
multitude. Not the flattery of those who
are interested to praise us. But the esti-
mation of good men. The approbation

57

which is induced by a knowledge of our
principles, motives, and conduct. Other
esteem than this a good man would reject
as unworthy of him, and this a good man
alone possesses. He is honoured by those
whom he honours ; who love virtue, and
who practise it. This is a source of ra-
tional pleasure. It is alone a compensa-
tion for all the calumnies of the world.
But suppose a man of real virtue to be-
come an object of general jealousy and
detraction. Think you that the loss, even
of the esteem of the wise and good, is the
loss of happiness ? No. The virtue which
deserves commendation, is an adequate
support under every pressure of obloquy.
He knows that the cloud which envelops
him will soon be dissipated ; and like the
sun, which, after the obscurity of a few
days, is hailed with redoubled gladness,
his darkened reputation will emerge with
apparently increased brightness, and among
the virtuous, will diffuse increased joy and
confidence. It is the happiness of a good
man, that he fears not to be known. He
8

58

has worn no disguise. He has practised
no artifices. He dreads no scrutiny. Is
not reputation, thus obtained, thus sup-
ported, conducive to happiness ? I pity
the man who views it with indifference.
He must be as dead to real happiness, as
he is to virtue.

6. One of the most delightful objects
of the anticipation of the young is the in-
terchange of affection in domestick life.
To the conjugal and parental relations, to
a home which we may peculiarly call our
own, all look forward with sanguine ex-
pectations. But are these relations always
productive of happiness ? Are there no
murmurs of discontent, no exclamations
of vehement passion, which ever strike the
ear in these retreats from the cares and
troubles of the world ? Alas ! Ascend a
rising ground, and look upon the dwell-
ings which it exhibits. But even this effort
is not necessary to discover the habitations
of men, where the sweet influence of af-
fection and peace is unknown. But whence
all this discord, turbulence, and misery?

59

Whence this mortifying and distressing
disappointment of the most sanguine and
happy expectations ? Is it not the natural
and necessary influence of vice ? Is it not
the effect of vitiated appetites and ungov-
erned passions ? It is not necessary then ;
it is not unavoidable. To be happy in our
domestick relations, we have but to be
virtuous. Let these passions be repressed,
let these appetites be subdued, let the
personal, social, and pious duties be faith-
fully performed, and every reasonable an-
ticipation will be realized. A husband and
wife united by the pure affections which
Christianity inculcates, rearing their child-
ren in the love of God and the practice of
virtue, often enjoy all of which man is
capable in this world ; and in every afflic-
tion have a solace, which divests it of more
than half its poignancy. The serenity of
mind with which virtue inspires a good
man, the gratitude, the benevolence, the
forbearance, the integrity, the resignation
which mark his conversation and conduct,
extend their efficacy to all about him.

6o

Whatever be his condition, in his home he
is happy ; and what trials, what sufferings
may not be cheerfully sustained in our
commerce with the world, while virtue
receives its encouragement and reward,
in the improvement, the warm affections,
and the uncorrupted happiness of those
who are most interested in us, and whom
we most tenderly love ?

7. I will suggest to you, my brethren,
but one more proof, that virtue is the best
good of this life, because it secures the
greatest happiness ; — It prepares us for
death. It prepares us not only to meet
dissolution, but to anticipate it with com-
posure, and with hope. This is a general
truth. That there are exceptions, that
many of the most pious look to the end of
life with most distressful apprehensions, is
readily admitted. Nor have I reserved
this argument to the last, because it is the
most important. The future condition of
man is to be determined, not by the man-
ner in which he dies, but by the manner
in which he lives. But there are seasons

6i

in the life of every man, when the thought
of death obtrudes itself too forcibly to be
resisted ; and to be able to retain and to
cherish it, with a conviction that it will
bring us to judgment, and to eternity, it is
necessary to elevate and to strengthen the
mind and heart, by an habitual application
of the principles of virtue. This and this
only will enable us to view its approaches,
and to anticipate its consequences, with
humble confidence. There is indeed no
virtue so entire in this world, as to be
wholly unmixed with evil ; and no one who
can claim any thing of God. But even to
the imperfect virtue of those who seek
their happiness in his service, are all the
promises of the gospel addressed ; and
under every change of condition may the
good look to death, not only for exemption
from suffering, but with the conviction that
they must be happy, in the disposal of a
Being of infinite and eternal holiness.
From how many hours of anguish does
this conviction and the hopes which it
awakens, preserve them ? They may view

62

every season of sickness as perhaps the
last stage of a journey, which will bring
them to the home which they love ; to the
friends who have gone before them ; to
innumerable holy spirits ; to the Saviour ;
to God. Is not virtue then, in all its con-
sequences, supremely lovely and desirable?
It guards us from unnumbered ills. It
enables us cheerfully to support all from
which it does not defend us. It represses
even the fear of death. These, my breth-
ren, are some of our motives to its practice.
But let us, for a moment, suppose that
virtue, or religion did not secure to us the
happiness of this life ; that there was uni-
formly in this world, one event to him that
served God, and to him that served him
not ; — let us suppose, that virtue was even
more depressed and afflicted than vice, and
that, in proportion to our moral and reli-
gious attainments, our sufferings were con-
tinually augmented. Still would virtue be
infinitely our greatest good ; the object
deserving of all our affections and labours;
an adequate compensation for every trial

63

and distress in which it might involve us ;
for virtue is immortal ; it will be followed
by eternal happiness in the life which
awaits us. Here then is an inexhaustible
source of motives to its exercise. The
moment of death, to a good man, is the
commencement of eternal and of unalloyed
enjoyment. Death forever terminates his
cares, his pains, his toils, his sorrows. The
happiness of the wicked, however great,
lasts no longer than their life in this world.
To them, death is the commencement of
unutterable wo. But in the eternity which
awaits the good, no interruption of their
joys will be known. And what is eternity ?
What is eternal happiness ? — Add millions
to millions, till all the powers of your mind
are exhausted by calculations ; and you
are still at an infinite distance. Suppose
this earth, and all the mighty systems of
worlds were brought into one mass ; and
from this pile of inconceivable greatness,
one little particle of sand only should be
taken in the revolution of hundreds of
millions of years. What would be the

64

term of time required for the removal of
the whole ? What in comparison with
eternity? An instant. Nothing. Eternity
still remains unchanged ; and the happi-
ness of the good unabated. Are such the
rewards of virtue ? O my God ! who then
can be vicious ?

In persuading you then to a religious
life, we consult, my friends, your highest
interests, your greatest happiness. To be
virtuous, is to walk in all the commands
and ordinances of the Lord blameless ; and
these are the excitements by which the
Spirit of God is striving with us, to main-
tain a life unspotted by the world. O be
not inconsiderate, I pray you, of motives
so powerful. In the pursuits of virtue,
even in this world, you will have peace ;
a peace surpassing the imagination of the
wicked ; and they will conduct you to in-
terminable bliss. When you know the will
of God, delay not then to perform it. His
will is the foundation of virtue, and his
eternal favour its reward. Receive Him
then, my brethren, with all gratitude, who

65

is the way, the truth, and the life ; the only
saviour of sinners. Study his gospel with
devotion and diligence, and seek, through
him, the illumination and guidance of the
spirit of God. Then will it be well with
you. Well in your consciences, and well
in your families. Well in all the commerce
of the world ; well in all your misfortunes
and sufferings ; well in death ; and well in
eternity.

DISCOURSE II.

JOHN viii. 34.
Whosoever committeth sin, is the servant of sin.

THIS truth is simple and obvious. The
ancient philosophers taught their disciples,
that a man was the slave of the lust which
he obeyed. It is a truth which is recog-
nized by us in our daily conversations ; and
if it obtained the influence which it de-
mands, its effects would be most important
on our virtue and happiness. But we
acknowledge the bondage of sin, and we
submit to it. We do more. We deliber-
ately load ourselves with its chains. There

67

are even some who devote the best ener-
gies of their minds and bodies, to the
security of their own condemnation.

There is not indeed, my brethren, a just
man upon earth, who doeth good and
sinneth not. But though the most vir-
tuous may, and do sin, they indulge in no
habitual transgression of the law of God.
By the remembrance of their offences they
are penetrated with shame, and impelled
to the throne of God to sue for pardon,
and the grace which they need to guide,
to guard and to comfort them. The terms
righteous and unjust, good and wicked,
saint and sinner, are relative. He is right-
eous, he is good, he is recognized as a
saint in the gospel, who habitually acknowl-
edges God, and endeavours to conform his
temper and life to the divine will ; who
struggles against his vicious propensities,
and seeks the assistance of the word and
spirit of God to subdue them ; who exer-
cises and cherishes his benevolent and
pious affections, who is deeply humble
and penitent for his offences, and who

68

lives with a daily reference to his account-
ability, and his eternal destiny. He is
unjust, he is wicked, he is a sinner, who
lives without God ; who violates his laws
without repentance ; who seeks his happi-
ness in the indulgence of passions, of
affections, and of appetites, which the
divine laws require him to deny ; on whom
the means of religion are inefficacious, and
who is inconsiderate of the account which
he must render, and the sentence which
awaits him. Vice indeed has its degrees,
as well as virtue ; and it may be as difficult
to name a man so depraved, that he has
not one sentiment or affection which we
could approve, as one who has never
transgressed any law, nor omitted any
duty. But very different, in the sight of
God, is a man of this imperfect, but sincere
piety and virtue, from him who cherishes
passions and indulges habits, which he
knows are forbidden in the gospel, and to
which are attached its solemn denuncia-
tions ; who repeats iniquitous practices
without remorse, or if remorse be excited,

69

represses it, by plunging more deeply into
evil indulgences ; who sacrifices to vicious
gratifications, not only the best pleasures
of this life, but all the hopes and the fears
of the future. This habitual sinner is in
the most debased condition of man. It is
to him that the Saviour refers when he
says, whosoever committeth sin, is the ser-
vant of sin. He is not less submissive to
his corrupt propensities, than is the most
abject slave to the most despotick of
masters.

i. Sin enslaves the understanding. "The
understanding is the faculty of the soul, by
which we assent to propositions, or dissent
from them.''* Truth and falsehood, vice
and virtue, order and confusion, are not
arbitrary terms ; but are as distinct as light
from darkness, and the distinction is as
clearly discerned by an unvitiated mind.
But this distinction is not obvious to a
sinner ; for by his love and practice of
vice, his understanding either becomes too
enervated for exertion, or so perverted as

* Hartley on man, vol. I, p. 3.

70

to blend the most contradictory principles.
Is not he, then, that committeth sin, the
servant of sin ?

It is an immediate tendency of some
vices, so to enervate the understanding, as
to indispose or disqualify it for the exer-
tions which are requisite, to distinguish
truth from falsehood, and vice from virtue.
Of this number is intemperance. There
are men, who feel anxiety for no higher
object, than what they shall eat or what
they shall drink ; whose thoughts and
affections are as completely absorbed in
the gratification of these appetites, as if
this was the highest object of their being.
For this they labour. For this they value
their possessions ; to this they devote their
time, and by it are their hopes and their
fears most powerfully excited. Can any
dominion be more entire? But a small
portion of time is indeed given to the
actual indulgence of these appetites. They
are satiated in a few moments ; but the
effects which they produce are not mo-
mentary nor inconsiderable. The very

7i

delight with which this indulgence is antic-
ipated, debases the noblest powers of the
mind ; and in a moment it reduces the
most vigorous understanding, to worse
than infantile weakness. The epicure rises
from his luxurious repast, and the glutton
returns from his excesses, not to engage
in pursuits which demand a vigorous in-
tellect, but either to relieve the wearied
system by sleep, or to dissipate by some
amusement the dull and heavy hours which
must intervene, before the cloyed appe-
tites will again demand their accustomed
gratification. The drunkard daily suffers
a temporary derangement. From the mo-
ment in which he receives the intoxicating
draught, till the relaxed frame regains its
vigour by repose, the authority of reason
is lost ; and when he awakes from a sleep,
in which he has been as insensible as the
bed or the earth on which he lay, or dis-
turbed by a thousand horrid images, ex-
hibited to his bewildered imagination, how
can he apply his mind to the labour of
thought ? The severe exercises of the

72

understanding, for which they are always
prepared, whose appetites are subjected to
the dominion of reason and religion, to the
intemperate, become at first so laborious,
that in the fatigue which they occasion, an
excuse is found for omitting them ; and
being for a short time neglected, this noble
faculty is roused within them with scarcely
less difficulty, than their bodies are excited
to activity, when debilitated and diseased
by the excesses to which they have been
habituated. The instances are rare, and
blessed be God that they are not more
numerous, in which the power of reason
is completely destroyed by the tyranny of
the appetites ; but who is ignorant of ex-
amples of their influence in enfeebling the
understanding, and indisposing, or even
disqualifying it, correctly to distinguish
truth from errour, and vice from virtue ?
Who has not felt on his own reason, at
some period of his life, the enfeebling in-
fluence of animal indulgence ? Is not then
the understanding of the epicure, the
glutton, and the drunkard, enslaved by the

73

lusts which they obey ? The very excuses
by which they palliate their guilt, evince
the degraded state of that faculty, which,
if freed from the restraints which they
have imposed on it, would instantly con-
vince them of their errour, their crime, and
their misery. They cannot reason, or they
reason, only as slaves serve the master
whose will they dare not disobey. They
attach their thoughts to few objects, which
have not the most intimate connexion with
their favourite gratifications. Thus is the
understanding of him that committeth sin,
the servant of sin. Thus are verified the
words of the apostle, " of whom or of what-
soever a man is overcome, of the same he
is brought in bondage/'

Not less debilitating and debasing to
the intellectual powers, are the pleasures
of the epicure, the glutton, and the drunk-
ard, than the gross and impure indulgences
of the lascivious. Their minds partake of
the relaxedness and pollution of their
bodies. The excuses which they would
once have alleged only to palliate their

IO

74

guilt, are soon adduced as arguments to
justify the gratification of their bestial lusts ;
and they persuade themselves that they
violate no law either of nature or reason,
while every faculty of the mind is immersed
in sensuality, and they degrade their im-
mortal natures to a level with those of
beasts which perish. Do not such ex-
amples forcibly illustrate the principle in
our text, " He that committeth sin is the
servant of sin ?" Is not that man in the
most miserable state of slavery, whose
mind, enfeebled by sensual indulgence,
sees no loveliness in virtue, and no pollu-
tion in impurity ; who lives only to gratify
the most ignoble desires of his nature ;
whose only standard of right and wrong is
the immediate pleasure or pain of which
an action will be productive, and who to
his lusts sacrifices all those noble capacities,
which would qualify him for a state of per-
fect intelligence and holiness ?

As by some vices, the understanding is
too debilitated to judge correctly, by others
it is equally perverted. Foremost in the

75

list of these vices are pride, worldly
ambition, avarice, envy, jealousy, and re-
sentment. These evil passions are not
inconsistent with a vigorous exercise of
the mind. They actuate many, whose
understandings qualify them for the pur-
suit of the sublimest truth and the pro-
motion of the most useful knowledge.
But approach them nearly, and observe
them in the exercise of their intellectual
powers, and "you will be convinced that
these powers are enslaved ; you will have
new proof, that whosoever committeth sin,
is the servant of sin ; that by whom or by
whatsoever the faculties of the mind are
overcome, of the same they are brought in
bondage.

Pride is a fashionable vice. It is digni-
fied with the epithets of honotirable and
laudable. But what is pride ? It is self-
complacency, derived from a consciousness
of being superiour to other men. It is a
passion, which awakens equal contempt of
others, as it produces of satisfaction with
ourselves ; and to retain its influence, it

76

either conceals the excellencies of others
beneath an impenetrable shade, or distorts
them, or so magnifies its own, as to render
all others undeserving of notice. Can a
man in the full possession of the powers
of his mind, thus reason and thus be happy ?
View the proud man. Lull his predomi-
nant passion to sleep, and engage him in
a subject or a pursuit in which this passion
is not interested, and you may find his
perceptions clear, and his language and
sentiments correct. But see him again
when his pride is excited. He will oppose
the most obvious truths, because they are
suggested by one whom he deems an in-
feriour. He confounds humility with mean-
ness, and has no conception that one can
exist without the other. Meekness and
forbearance are in his view evidences of a
want of spirit ; and the resentment of
wrongs, if not a virtue, is at the worst, an
errour of noble souls. He estimates opin-
ions and characters, not by the unerring
standard of truth, but by the contracted
scale of his own prejudices ; and admires

77

or condemns, as his prevailing humour is
gratified or disappointed. Is not the un-
derstanding of such a«man enslaved by his
pride ? You may say that the powers of
his mind are great, but if they act only in
subserviency to this passion, is not his
mind a servant of the lust which he obeys ?
— View the man also, in whom worldly
ambition has obtained ascendancy. He
thinks, he dreams of nothing, but of illus-
trious achievements or of loud applauses.
He would live; how? In the breath of
the multitude. — He would obtain ; what ?
— honours which will wither, perhaps soon-
er than the first flowers which bloom upon
his grave. To gratify this ambition, he
sacrifices time, health and virtue ; and he
deems the offering small, if he can effect-
uate his purpose. Nay, not only would
he sacrifice his own, but the lives, the for-
tunes, the reputations and the virtue, of
thousands. Will the unvitiated reason of
a man approve of this as the ultimate
object of pursuit? Above all, will it ap-
prove of these means of accomplishing any

78

object? Say then, if you please, that
ambition is a splendid vice, but say not
that the understanding of the ambitious
man is free. His chains may dazzle your
sight, and their glare may even render
them imperceptible to himself; but the
faculties of his mind are not on that ac-
count less enslaved. His understanding, '
if at liberty to examine and to judge, would
denounce his favourite passion, and the
means of indulging it, not less severely
than they are denounced in the gospel. —
Nor is the understanding of the avaricious
man more free, than that of the ambitious
and the proud. He attaches a supreme
value to wealth, from which he anticipates
no higher good, than the pleasure of be-
holding it. Is this a reasonable gratifica-
tion ? You acknowledge that the worth
of riches, to a miser, is only imaginary ; that
his pains and his pleasures, though appar-
ently excited by his successes and his mis-
fortunes, do in fact result from the state of
his own mind. Yet what is this but a con-
cession, that his understanding is enslaved

79

by his affection for the useless wealth which
he has amassed? His soul is bound to his
coffers, and scarcely does one thought es-
cape the golden barriers which surround it.
Give freedom to his understanding, and
would he deem himself more rich, by the
possession of millions which he never in-
tends to use, than he is by a knowledge,
that within the body of the earth are con-
tained innumerable jewels of inestimable
value ? — Observe the envious, and say, if
their understandings are not likewise en-
slaved by their prevailing passion ? The
liberty of reflection would soon cure this
dreadful malady of the soul ; but while envy
is indulged, every thought, every desire, is
attached to those possessions of another,
which it would appropriate to itself. The
envious man is not permitted to enumerate
and to estimate his own blessings ? or if
this indulgence be allowed, it is only on
condition, that he compares himself with
those about him. Is not this a most de-
basing subjection of the mind ? Is not he
who thus committeth sin, a servant of sin ?

8o

— View the man also, whose jealous spirit
is always awake, to catch every expression,
and to notice every action, of the object by
which it is excited. Can he reason calmly
on the causes of his suspicion ? Can he
weigh evidence, and determine with impar-
tiality ? On other subjects, he may indeed
be able to deliberate, and to give to every
consideration the importance which it de-
mands ; but in the object of his jealousy,
he can see nothing to justify, nor even to
excuse. Every effort to please, he con-
siders as an artifice to deceive him ; and
every virtue, which attracts the admiration
and the love of others, in his apprehension,
is but a gilded crime. Is not his under-
standing enslaved then by the passion
which he obeys ? — Observe likewise the
man whose resentment is inflamed. He
knows that he has committed a thousand
offences against others, as great as that,
which he is determined to revenge. He
will acknowledge to you, in a dispassionate
moment, that he has so often broken the
laws of God, that without the divine mercy

8i

is extended to him, he has no hope of
future happiness. Yet this man, who
has so often experienced the clemency of
others ; this man, whose very existence is
to be attributed to the forbearance of God;
this man, who depends on sovereign and
unmerited grace for future pardon and
acceptance, cannot patiently submit to an
expression or action, by which his expecta-
tions are disappointed. If he acquire for
a moment a control of his thoughts, he is
rendered humble, and penitent, and for-
giving ; but do not these very effects of
reflection, demonstrate that the mind is
enslaved, while it is influenced by resent-
ful passions ? Dreadful is the tyranny of
revenge. Every faculty has been strained
to its utmost point of exertion, to gratify
its exorbitant demands. Every pursuit,
every pleasure has been abandoned, that
no thought and no care might interfere,
with the accomplishment of its malignant
designs. How forcible then, are the words
of the apostle, "to whom we yield our-
selves servants to obey, his servants we
ii

82

are whom we obey." How just and how
full of instruction are the words of our
Lord, he who committeth sin, is the ser-
vant of sin.

2. Sin enslaves the affections. "The
affections have pleasure and pain for their
objects, and by them we are excited to
pursue happiness and to avoid misery, and
all its apparent causes." In themselves
they are innocent. It is only when
attached to evil, that they become causes
of guilt and wretchedness. "They are
the winds, which, though often tempest-
uous, are necessary to convey the vessel
to its port." If subject to the control of
reason and religion, they will bear us
smoothly and safely along, equally distant
from the whirlpools of temptation, and the
rocks and surges of disappointed expecta-
tion. But if the dominion of reason and
religion be resigned, terrible will be the
sufferings in which they will involve us.
No gratification will be sought, but either
of sense or passion ; and every meanness
and crime will be perpetrated, almost with-

83

out shame and remorse. — But let us con-
fine ourselves to the metaphor which is
used by our Lord. Sin enslaves the af-
fections. To excite our love of piety and
virtue, and our abhorrence of iniquity,
God has attached to his laws, the most
glorious promises and the most awful
denunciations ; he has made reputation,
health, and pleasure, the attendants of
virtue, and anguish and disease and dis-
grace the consequences of vice ; he has
implanted within us the principle of con-
science, to impel us to duty, and to restrain
us from transgression. But the practice
of evil being for a short time indulged, all
these restraints and motives yield to its
influence ; and so strong does the love of
vice become, that men daily and deliber-
ately commit it, even with pain, and dis-
grace, and death, and damnation in their
view. Does not sin enslave the affections
of the epicure, the drunkard, and the de-
bauchee ? They supremely love the objects
to which these guilty passions are attached ;
and sacrifice to them all which is most

84

interesting and dear in time and in eternity.
Would a rational being, whose affections
were free, attach them to objects, which
necessarily produce ultimate ruin and
misery ? Is not this attachment, so abhor-
rent to reason, to duty, and happiness, a
demonstration, that the affections of a
sinner are in the most debased condition
to which slavery can reduce them ? Our
affections are then free, when the happi-
ness which they seek, or the misery which
they avoid, is approved by conscience and
the divine word ; when we pursue and find
pleasure in the path of duty. Then are
there no jarring interests within us ; no
conflicts of discordant desires. However
strong be our attachments, we are then
conscious that they are free, because we
would not diminish them, under any change
of circumstances which can be anticipated.
But a sinner daily resolves against the in-
dulgences which he daily practises ; and it
is his love of the pleasures or the profits
of iniquity, which stimulates him to pursue
them. He loves the wages of sin, more

85

than the riches and the honours of heaven.
Where our treasures are, there will our
hearts, our affections be also ; and the
treasures of a sinner, and his heart are in
the lust which he obeys. This is the
second illustration which we proposed of
our text.

In the 3d place, sin enslaves the will.
"The will is that state of the mind, which
is previous to, and which causes, those
actions, which we call voluntary, or free."
It is true, that a sinner acts by choice,
equally as the most pious of men ; that is,
he is free to do the evil which he loves.
But is he free also to do good? "Out of
thine own mouth will I judge thee, thou
wicked servant." You love the course of
evil into which you have entered ; you
choose it ; but should you not rather be
upright, than dishonest ; of a generous
and forgiving, than of a malignant temper ?
Should you not rather be benevolent, than
envious and selfish? humble, than proud?
temperate, than devoted to the gratifica-
tions of appetite ? chaste in your affec-

86

tions and conduct, than licentious and im-
pure ? Why then do you persist in vices,
which you know must at last overwhelm
you with shame and misery ? You daily
acknowledge that you cannot abandon them.
You daily practise them, as a slave thought-
lessly goes to the task, to which he has
been so long accustomed, that his motions
in performing it are almost mechanical.
You have a thousand times resolved that
you would reform ; but your continuance
in sin demonstrates the moral impotence
of your will. Say not then that you are
free, because you act from choice ; because
you have invented excuses, or even justi-
fications of your conduct. These excuses,
these justifications, are but suggestions of
your sinful passions, to conceal from you
the thraldom in which you are held. "When
you would do good, evil is present with
you ; " and notwithstanding all the means
and motives which are applied to dissuade
you from vice, and to encourage you to
virtue and holiness ; notwithstanding your
convictions of duty, and of the ultimate

87

happiness which it will produce, you per-
sist in errour and iniquity. Your will bows
submissive to the authority of your pas-
sions, while reason and religion stand
pleading with you to be wise, to reform,
and to be happy forever. Is not he then
who committeth sin completely the servant
of sin ?

But it is said, if the soul be thus en-
slaved, is man accountable for the actions
which he cannot control ? Yes ; for how-
ever debased be his condition, he was once
free, and voluntarily became a slave. He
freely sold his faculties to the service of
taskmasters, who he knew never relented ;
whose bondage, he was taught by the ex-
perience of thousands, was as strong and
more cruel than the grave. God never
formed an accountable being, with pro-
pensities to evil which he could not resist.
There is a season of life, in which every
passion may be subjected. If at this sea-
son we indulge its demands, its authority
soon becomes too strongly confirmed to
be easily shaken. We begin with pre-

88

scribing bounds, within which we will limit
evil gratifications. We pass these bounds.
We resolve to be more circumspect ; but
at the same time excuse our guilt, by
pleading the strength of temptation. The
same temptations recur, or we are excited
by others of equal force, and we justify
that, which before we attempted only to
excuse. Then is the soul enslaved. But
who will say, that the first, or the second
transgression was necessary ? that the
temptation, by no exertion, could be re-
sisted ? Whatever be the power of any
propensity to evil, who is not conscious of
a time, when he might have obtained over
it an easy and complete victory ? Not
only for his guilty conduct, therefore, is
the sinner accountable, but for the very
strength of the passion by which he was
excited to commit it ; for that very state
of the mind, by which he was predisposed
to become the slave of temptation. This
is indeed an awful consideration. It is a
consideration which, duly influencing the
mind, would induce the sinner, not only to

89

hazard every comfort of life, but life itself,
in the endeavour, to repent, to reform, and
to become holy.

But though man be not able, of him-
self, to overcome the impotence of the
enslaved affections and will ; yet by the
means of grace with which he is furnished,
he may regain his liberty, and become a
child of God. "My grace is sufficient for
thee ; my strength is made perfect in weak-
ness." God is accessible at all times, and
in all places, by prayer. He has made his
will so plain, that he who runs may read ;
and he has enforced it by motives, which
to serious and ingenuous minds, seem
irresistible. There is therefore no excuse
for guilt. For the greatest sinners there
is hope, because there are means of reform-
ation, which, wisely applied, will be effect-
ual. Behold then the goodness and the
severity of God ; and let it lead us to
repentance.

By these considerations we justify the
dreadful denunciations of the gospel
against those, who are confirmed in the

12

9°

love and practice of evil. They have re-
sisted means of grace, and motives to piety
and virtue, which our Lord assures us
would have converted those idolatrous and
abandoned cities, which were overwhelmed
and destroyed by the vengeance of God.
They have freely and habitually debased
all the powers of their souls, when they
knew that, thus perverted, and thus cor-
rupted, they could have no interest in the
promises. The temptations, to which they
have yielded their piety and virtue, were
designed to exercise and to strengthen
their holy and benevolent affections ; and
if they had been vigorously resisted, suc-
cess would have been certain, and the
honours and rewards of victory splendid
and great. What then does not he de-
serve who has sold himself a slave to vice,
notwithstanding the convictions of his
guilt, the reproaches of conscience, and
the admonitions, the promises, and threat-
enings of the gospel ; who has slighted
the presence of God, been unaffected by
his holiness, regardless of his justice, and

9i

ungrateful for his love ? What means,
what motives would reclaim a sinner, on
whom the excitements of Christianity are
unavailing? They who refused Moses'
law died without mercy. Of how much
sorer punishment then shall not he be
thought worthy, who has trodden under
foot the Son of God, and counted the
blood of the covenant an unholy thing,
and done despite to the spirit of grace ?

But God never abandons one, who has
not completely abandoned himself. If you
feel, therefore, one emotion of godly sor-
row, you may receive pardon and life, for
you may repent and reform. I beseech
you then in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled
to God.

j

DISCOURSE III.

PHILIPPIANS ii. 12, 13.

Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling ;
for it is God that worketh in you both to will and to
do of his good pleasure.

THE text contains both a doctrine and
a duty. The duty is, that we work out
our own salvation with fear and trembling ;
the doctrine, that it is God who worketh
in us to will and to do of his good pleasure.
Between them there is a close and very
important relation, though they are appar-
ently contradictory. I would obviate this
apparent inconsistency, and illustrate their
relation ; and, by the powerful and interest-
ing motives which they involve, urge you
to become workers together with God, in
securing your final and eternal happiness.

93

It is a fundamental principle in all our
reasonings on the communications or the
operations of God, so far as they respect
mankind, that he does and must act in
perfect consistency with the natures which
he has given us. We are rational, and he
therefore addresses our reasons, requiring
faith no further than he furnishes evidence
to support it. We are free, and he there-
fore proposes good and evil to our choice.
The supposition is absurd, that an infinitely
wise and good Being would give a com-
mand to a creature, which he could not
obey ; that he would offer salvation on a
condition with which the creature could
not comply, and then condemn him for not
complying with it. As the commands and
promises and threatenings of the gospel
are therefore addressed to all, either the
gospel is not true, or man is entirely a free
agent. — The supposition is absurd, that
God would create man with a capacity of
discriminating truth from errour, and virtue
from vice, and then require a belief which
directly contradicted his reason. It is true

94

that God may reveal doctrines which are
above our comprehensions, and, by the
evidence that they are revealed by him,
may convince us of their truth. But in this
very evidence he addresses our reasons,
and leaves us without excuse if we do not
receive them. But it is impossible, while
we exercise our reasons, to believe that
God has commanded us to work out our
own salvation with fear and trembling, and
at the same time to believe, that we are
dependent for our final happiness on his
unconditional election ; that unless we are
thus elected, all our prayers and all our
labours will be wholly ineffectual. It is to
destroy all the obligations of piety, except
on the elect. It is to annihilate the great
doctrine of human responsibility ; for they
who are unconditionally elected, as they
are perfectly secured from any fatal errour
or vice, cannot properly be considered as
responsible ; nor can an account justly be
demanded of men, with whatever means of
religion they have been favoured, and with
whatever motives to its practice, who were

95

unconditionally doomed to destruction.
These remarks are appropriate to the illus-
tration which I propose of the text. The
doctrine is one of the most interesting
which the gospel proposes, " It is God
who worketh in you both to will and to do
of his good pleasure ;" and it is in perfect
consistency with the command, "work out
your own salvation with fear and trem-
bling/'

God works in us, i. by the influence of
creation and providence ; 2. by the influ-
ence of conscience ; 3. by the influence of
the divine word ; 4. by the influence of
prayer; and 5thly, by the influence of the
holy spirit.

1. By the influence of creation and
providence. "The heavens declare the
glory of God, and the firmament sheweth
his handy-work ; day unto day uttereth
speech, and night unto night sheweth
knowledge of him/' The minutest par-
ticle of matter is an evidence of a Creator,
because no particle could create itself.
Every evidence which is exhibited in every

96

object, of wisdom, of power, and of good-
ness, is an evidence of these attributes in
God. Every adaptation of objects to one
another, is a distinct proof of the provi-
dence of God. Reflect on the skill, which
is displayed in the structure of a flower, a
leaf, a spire of grass. It is unfathomable.
It awakens admiration and reverence of its
creator in every serious mind. Extend
your views then to the whole vegetable
creation. God is in all, and over all. With-
out him, not one could have existed, not
one could exist for a moment. How well
adapted are they therefore to keep in ex-
ercise the emotions which they awaken ?
Observe the minutest insect. How won-
derful is its organization ? The most
admirable contrivance of man bears no
comparison with it. How much more
wonderful then is that wisdom, which
framed every individual of the vast variety
of creatures which inhabit our globe ? You
see that every creature is suited to its
element ; that abundant provision is made
for its wants, and that it possesses all the

97

means which are requisite for their gratifi-
cation. Can you thus reflect on God,
without sentiments of gratitude and devo-
tion ? If we feel these sentiments in
reflecting on his creation and providence,
it is God working in us to will and to do
of his good pleasure. His agency is as
certain in producing these effects in our
hearts, as it is in the structure of our
hearts, or of the objects which we contem-
plate. Observe your own forms. Reflect
on your intellectual, your social, your moral
nature ; your entire dependence, and the
constant goodness of God in sustaining
you ; your unnumbered wants, and the
provision which is made for them ; your
capacity of improvement, and the means
of attaining it. Are not each of these
most powerful motives to love, to adore,
and to obey all the will of your Creator ?
The more we reflect on ourselves, the
deeper becomes our conviction, that in
God we live, and move, and have our
being ; and in thus producing this convic-
tion, does he not work in us to will and to
13

98

do of his good pleasure ? All which is
great and beautiful, all which is wise and
beneficent in creation and providence, is
exhibited to exercise our admiration, our
reverence, our gratitude, our love ; all
which is mysterious, or afflictive, to try
our faith and resignation. These senti-
ments and affections are essential to true
piety; and if they are excited by a con-
templation of his government or of his
works, the agency of God in producing
them is to be acknowledged and adored.

2. God works in us by the influence of
conscience ; that faculty by which we judge
of the rectitude or impropriety of our
conduct ; which makes vice a source of
unutterable anguish, and virtue productive
of the highest happiness. So powerful is
its influence, that to repress it, often baffles
all the efforts of the most abandoned ; and
thousands daily feel its tortures, whose
apparent prosperity we ignorantly envy.
In an approving conscience does a good
man find a refuge from all the oppressions
of the world ; a support under the heaviest

99

burden of adversity; an excitement to
perseverance in duty, with whatever diffi-
culties and dangers it may be attended.
And if he whom conscience condemns
would regard its admonitions, and submit
to its restraints, virtue and peace would
soon be restored in his heart. You must
deny therefore, that God intended by this
means to produce this effect, or acknowl-
edge, that by every operation of conscience,
he is working in us to will and to do of his
good pleasure. If the joys of an approving,
and the distresses of a wounded conscience,
are sanctions of the will of God, which all
acknowledge who believe that man is a
subject of the divine government, then are
they designed by him to co-operate with
the revelation of his will, in producing that
obedience which he demands. I appeal to
your experience, if you have not been
restrained by conscience from actions,
which you were powerfully excited to per-
form ; if its reproaches have not awakened
repentance, and the. most earnest desires
and endeavours to love God more, and to

IOO

serve him better. I appeal to your ex-
perience, if the consciousness of having
discharged your duty, has not rendered
you more resolute and vigorous in pur-
suing it ; if it have not detached your
affections from objects which are vain and
vicious ; consoled you in afflictions, and
made you supremely happy in whatever
you deemed the service of God. This is
to will and to do of his good pleasure. It
is what his word inculcates ; and in every
excitement of conscience, either to repent-
ance or to increasing fidelity, is God as
literally working in us, as if he personally
suggested the motives by which we are
actuated.

3. God operates upon our wills and
upon our conduct, by the influence of his
word. The gospel contains a perfect rule,
suited to every condition of man, and to
every circumstance of his life. To con-
vince us that this is the will of God, on
which depends our eternal condition in
the future state, we have the evidence of
prophecy and of miracles. It is indeed a

IOI

rule of life, which instantly approves itself
to every unprejudiced mind, and he that
doeth his will, will know of the doctrine
that it is from God ; but can it be doubted
that these evidences were designed to
confirm our faith and to secure our obedi-
ence, and thus to work in us both to will
and to do of his good pleasure ? They
who saw and heard our Lord, but rejected
his authority, were condemned, because
they did not yield to the influence of these
powerful motives to faith and holiness.
"Wo unto thee, Corazin ; wo unto thee,
Bethsaida ; for if the mighty works had
been done in Tyre and Sidon, which have
been done in thee, they would have re-
pented long ago in sackcloth and ashes."
But why did they deserve condemnation,
if these miracles were not intended to work
in them faith and obedience ? It was not
by an arbitrary and irresistible impulse,
that God then produced conviction of the
truth of the gospel, and that devotion to
him which he required. To convince and
to convert his hearers, our Lord referred

102

to the prophecies, and to the works which
he had wrought in his Fathers name ; and
that they were adapted to produce faith
and repentance, thanks to God, is evinced
by the happy experience of millions. For
the same purpose did our Lord enforce his
requirements, by the most glorious prom-
ises and the most awful threatenings.
He places before us happiness and misery,
heaven and hell, and then bids us choose
the service of God or of sin. He works
in us to will and to do of his good pleasure,
by the most affecting motives which could
possibly be proposed to rational beings ;
by the holy example which he exhibited
for our imitation ; by his sufferings and
death, to obtain the forgiveness of the sins
of which we repent ; and if we will not
receive the evidence of Moses and the
prophets, of Christ and the apostles ; if we
are not excited by this evidence, nor by his
promises and denunciations, to the holiness
which he demands, we should not be per-
suaded, though one rose from the dead.
Could more be done, consistently with the

103

freedom of man, to secure our faith, and
the entire submission of our own to his
perfect will ?

4. God works in us to will and to do of
his good pleasure, by the influence of
prayer ; an influence of which every pious
heart is deeply sensible ; which naturally
results from a sense of the august presence
of that Being, to whom prayer is addressed ;
from that deep sensibility which is then
experienced, of his eternity, his power, his
holiness, his goodness and his truth ; from
the deep conviction which is then felt, of
our own, and of the entire and constant
dependence of all creatures upon him.
He works in us to pray, by teaching us
our relation to him as children, his readi-
ness to hear and to bless us, and his gracious
purposes toward us in another and a better
world. Is it possible thus to approach
God, without the deepest reverence, love,
gratitude, humility, and resignation ? Is it
possible, at the same time, to derive our
happiness from this intercourse, to retain
the sentiments which it inspires, and to

104

find pleasure in indulgences, which are
forbidden in the gospel ? We know the
influence of intercourse with the wise and
good. Admiration of their virtues naturally
and easily leads us to a desire of imitation.
We are ready and happy to do much, to
retain their confidence and affection. We
are encouraged to perseverance, by all
which they have done, and all which they
have enjoyed in consequence of their virtue.
Nay, the presence of the wise and good
awes even the most vicious ; and they
cannot endure their society, because it
confirms their consciousness of guilt. How
much more effectual will be the influence
of intercourse with God ? Who would be
dishonest, revengeful, impure, avaricious,
or proud ; who would omit duties which
he acknowledges, and commit offences
against which he is repeatedly and most
solemnly warned, if he felt the presence of
God, if he were accustomed to that com-
munion with Him, to which he is encour-
aged in the gospel ? In admitting us then,
to this intercourse, does not God work in

io5

us to will and to do of his good pleasure?
Does not the close, the natural connexion
of the cause with the effect, demonstrate
that prayer was appointed by God, as one
of the means of qualifying us for the eter-
nal enjoyments of his kingdom ?

5. God works in us by the agency of
his holy spirit. It is well known that the
holy spirit descended on the apostles on
the day of pentecost, by the influence of
which they were enabled to preach the
gospel to every people in their own lan-
guage, and to perform the most wonderful
miracles in confirmation of their doctrine.
It is obvious, that the holy spirit for which
we are encouraged to pray, cannot be the
same gift which was conferred, for most
important purposes, on the first preachers
of the New Testament. Yet the influence
of the spirit we are taught to expect, if
with a suitable disposition we seek for it ;
and do we not receive it, in the sentiments
of religious admiration, gratitude, love and
devotion, which a contemplation of his
works and government inspire ? in the
14

io6

restraints and encouragements of con-
science ? in the divine light which the
gospel pours over the soul, which feels its
power and yields to its motives ; in the
holy affections which it awakens ; the con-
solation which it produces in affliction ;
the strength and delight which it furnishes
in the service of God ? Do we not receive
the spirit of God in the exercise of prayer,
when we feel that our prayers have in-
creased our confidence in God ; fanned the
flame of our love ; rendered us more hum-
ble and vigilant ; more deeply interested
in the good of others, and more active to
promote it ; more detached from the world,
more happy in the hope of heaven, and
more zealous to attain it ? The spirit acts
by the agency of means ; and we receive
the spirit by every means, by which our
love of God and of holiness is increased.
By his spirit, therefore he acts upon our
wills, in perfect consistency with their
freedom. He has promised his holy spirit
to those only who ask, who seek for it.
Does not the doctrine, thus illustrated,

io7

most powerfully enforce the command,
work out your own salvation with fear and
trembling? What encouragement would
induce us to labour for our eternal happi-
ness, to use with fidelity and gratitude the
means which are appointed of securing an
interest in the great redemption, if we are
unaffected by the assurance, that God is
thus working in us to will and to do of his
good pleasure ? The apostles, in preach-
ing the gospel, and in persuading men to
receive and obey it, are called workers
together with God ; and we are workers
together with God in effectuating our own
salvation, when we improve as we ought
the means of grace, the price which is put
into our hands to obtain wisdom, and
pardon, and life.

To work out our own salvation, we
must then, in the first place, habitually
acknowledge God in his works, and in his
government of the world. In vain would
be all the displays which are presented in
creation and providence, of the power, the
wisdom, and the goodness of God, if there

io8

were none capable of contemplating them,
of learning the character, and performing
the will of their author ; and God has given
us the capacities which are requisite for
these purposes, that by thus knowing him,
we may be excited to diligence in his
service. We have only to open our eyes,
and we shall see God, every where active
and every where good. We have only to
open our hearts, and we shall feel our
dependence and obligations ; the most
perfect confidence and entire submission.

"Full often, it is true,

"Our wayward intellect, the more we learn
"Of nature, overlooks her Author more."

Task, B. 3.

But that the contemplation of his works
and providence is adapted to awaken the
most elevated sentiments of piety, and to
animate us in the service of God, is known
to all who have ever seriously thought of
God. To derive from them these effects,
we must habitually refer to God all the
wisdom, power, and benevolence which
they discover ; we must habitually re-

109

member that he is in all, and over all ; we
must daily acknowledge his government,
both in the prosperous and adverse events
of life ; and whether they affect others or
ourselves. Is it a hard requirement, that
we thus cherish a remembrance of God,
and all the sentiments and virtues which
this sense of his presence and perfections
will inspire? In his sermon on the mount,
our Saviour taught his disciples thus to
seek God, and to cherish the gratitude, the
confidence and devotion which he required.
Behold the flowers of the field ! Solomon
in all his glory was not arrayed like one of
these. Will not he then, who has clothed
the flowers with so much beauty, clothe
you also, O ye of little faith ? Behold the
fowls of the air. They neither sow, nor
reap, nor gather into barns ; yet your
heavenly father feedeth them. Will he
not then feed you ? Do you not see in his
care of the creatures about you, a motive
to love him, to trust in him, and to serve
him ? Thus keep the Lord ever before
you, by an habitual regard to his creation

no

and providence, by that confidence in him
and that gratitude which he thus inculcates,
and by that submission which you owe to
Him on whom you are entirely dependent,
and you so far obey the command, "to
work out your salvation with fear and
trembling." Every reference which is thus
made to his presence, every sentiment of
love and devotion which is thus excited,
qualifies us at once for a better improve-
ment of every other means of grace, and
for the final happiness for which they are
all intended to prepare us.

2. We work out our own salvation,
when we avail ourselves of the encourage-
ments and admonitions of conscience ;
when we are prompted by the happiness
which results from a consciousness of
having performed our duties, to increased
earnestness in the service of God ; and
when, by the reproaches of a wounded
spirit, we are induced to repentance and
reformation. It was for these purposes
that God implanted the faculty within us ;
and he who disregards the suggestions of

I II

conscience, by whatever circumstance it is
excited, refuses to co-operate with God in
the great work of salvation. By our dis-
regard of conscience, its influence becomes
gradually repressed ; and hence its ineffi-
ciency. But if we cherished, as we should,
the delightful emotions which are excited
by a hope of the favour of God, how strong
would be its impulse to increasing holiness?
If, whenever we are made conscious of
guilt, we reflected maturely on the design
of God in thus awakening us ; and on the
nature and just consequences of our sins ;
if we were reminded, as we should be by
our sufferings, that without repentance and
a renewed heart we cannot see God and
live, then should we be guilty of no habit-
ual transgression. The restraints and
encouragements of conscience have been
partially felt by all ; but if we would make
them subservient to our attainment of the
great salvation, we must regard every sug-
gestion of this heavenly monitor ; we must
endeavour to maintain a conscience void
of offence, toward God, and toward man.

112

3- We work out our own salvation,
when we attend to the evidences of the
truth of the gospel ; when we study it with
frequency and earnestness, to ascertain
what is the will of God ; when we make its
requirements our supreme rule, and cherish
its hopes, as infinitely the best possession
of man. As God is there working in us by
the force of these evidences, by his prom-
ises and denunciations, by the beauty of
holiness as it is illustrated in the example
of Christ, and by the infinite mercy which
is expressed in his death, we become
workers together with him, in cherishing
our faith, in conforming to his ordinances,
in obeying his laws, and in submitting to
his appointments, trusting in his promises.
To know the will of God, does not indeed
require labour. He who runs may read it.
The wayfaring man, though a fool, need
not err therein. But to retain its influence
on our hearts and lives, demands our
utmost exertions ; and one of the most
efficient means of securing it, is the daily
and attentive study of the divine word ;

"3

the habitual remembrance, that this is the
law by which we shall ultimately be judged.
Every one who knows any thing of the
deceitfulness of his own heart, feels the
necessity of this constant reference to the
word of God, to guide and to guard him ;
and by every hour of its serious study, by
every recurrence to it as our rule of life,
by every conformity to its institutions and
obedience to its requirements, from a prin-
ciple of love to God, do we advance toward
the great salvation, the inheritance of its
promises.

4. As God works in us to will and to
do of his good pleasure, by the influence
of prayer, so do we become workers to-
gether with God, when we live in the habit
of intimate and devout communion with
him. We are expressly taught, that much
of that happiness in the future world which
is involved in the promised salvation, will
be derived from intercourse with God in
prayer. In this world, it is one of the
most efficient means of that holiness, of
which it will be the eternal security in the

15

ii4

future. All the exhibitions which God has
givea of himself, all his promises, all our
weaknesses, and wants, and fears, are
motives by which God is working in us to
pray. If they produce on us the effects
for which they are intended, if they excite
us to pray, then do we thus work out our
own salvation. Every prayer, offered with
deep humility and reverence, and love and
resignation, renders us better prepared for
that union with God, in which will consist
the glory of the saints in heaven ; and so
far will be these motives by which God is
working in us, from promoting our salva-
tion, if we are not thus excited to habitual
and devout communion with him, that they
will justly become the causes to us of the
severest condemnation.

5. We work out our own salvation,
when we seek the influences of the Spirit
of God, and are actuated by them ; the
influence of that spirit which lives and
addresses us in all the works of God ;
which impels or restrains us by the agency
of conscience ; which pervades the divine

"5

word, giving efficacy to its sacred truths ;
which descends upon the sincere wor-
shipper in the exercise of prayer. It is a
spirit which God will give to all who seek
it ; which he is more ready to confer, than
is the kindest parent to bestow bread upon
his hungry offspring. How perfectly con-
sistent then is this influence of God, with
the freedom of the human will ? Every
sentiment of piety and virtue, which is
excited by the works and providence of
God, by conscience, by the study of the
word of God, or by prayer, is to be
attributed to the Spirit of God. Every
emotion of repentance, every desire of
greater devotion, is to be ascribed to the
strivings of his spirit. By them he is
working in us. By cherishing these fruits
of the spirit, we co-operate with God, in
securing for ourselves glory, and honour,
and immortality.

The requirement to fear and tremble in
the great work of salvation, does not imply,
that we should engage in the service of
God with a constant dread of his dis-

n6

pleasure ; that by our exposure to fall, we
should be rendered timid in the discharge
of duty. No. Whenever life is repre-
sented as a warfare, we are exhorted to a
courage which no dangers can daunt ; and
the apostle who has recorded the require-
ment, that we "work out our salvation with
fear and trembling,'' was one of the most
fearless and heroick of mankind. But our
care, our watchfulness will always be in-
creased, in proportion to our estimation
of the object which we would attain ; and
surely, if we are sensible of the worth of that
salvation which is proffered in the gospel,
if we realize our weakness, if we reflect on
the tendency of our passions to evil, and the
number and strength of the temptations to
which we are exposed, we shall be incess-
antly cautious ; and though not timid in
reflecting on the labours which are to be
accomplished, we shall, above all things,
be afraid to sin. It is this fear indeed,
which distinguishes true courage from that
impetuosity of temper, that unprincipled
hardihood of mind, which the unthinking

ii7

and the vicious mistake for magnanimity.
We cannot have just sentiments of the
salvation which awaits us, if we are not
faithful to the service of God ; of the duties
which he requires ; of the relapses of others
from virtue and piety ; of our own frequent
transgressions, and of the awful conse-
quences of sin ; and not fear, lest we
should be overcome of evil. He who
knows not this dread of sin, has no just
conceptions of the worth of that redemp-
tion, which is offered to us by the Son of
God.

Considering then that God is working
in us to will and to do of his good pleasure,
let us be encouraged to work out our own
salvation with fear and trembling ; to fear
lest, a promise being left of entering into
rest, any of us should fall short of it.
Labour not for the meat which perisheth,
but for that meat which endureth unto
everlasting life. Diligently apply to every
means of grace, and God will give them
efficacy. He has never said to one of the
children of men, Seek ye me, in vain. Ask

1 1.8

then, and it shall be given you ; seek and
ye shall find ; knock and it shall be opened
to you ; for if ye, being evil, know how to
give good gifts to your children, will not
your heavenly Father give his holy spirit
to them that ask him ? — Bestow on us this
spirit, holy Father ! Guide us by thy
counsel, secure us by thy grace, and re-
ceive us at last to the perfect and eternal
enjoyment of thee, through Jesus Christ,
to whom be glory for ever. AMEN.

DISCOURSE IV.

MATTHEW vii. 12.

All things whatsoever ye 7vould that men should do
to you, do ye even so to them.

THE text is a summary of the duties of
social morality. It is a rule of life which,
if habitually applied, would supersede the
necessity of innumerable laws ; for it is
adapted to repress the worst passions, to
awaken and to exercise every good affec-
tion, and to diffuse through our own minds,
through our families, and through society,
all the improvement and happiness of which
social virtue can be productive. Whatso-
ever ye would that men should do to yotc,
do ye even so to them.

120

The precept is deeply founded in the
nature of man. Without some regard to
justice and to benevolence, society could
not have existed ; and so many are the
weaknesses and the wants of which all are
sensible, and so wretched must every one
have found himself, without the considera-
tion and regard of those about him, that
we are not surprised at meeting with this
requirement, in the works of many, who
not only lived long before the gospel, but
who were wholly ignorant of each other. *
But in ten thousand instances have men
been actuated by it from a strong sentiment

*This great rule is implied in a speech of Lycias, and ex-
pressed in distinct phrases by Thales and Pictacus; and I have
seen it, word for word, in the original of Confucius. It has
been usual for zealous men to ridicule and abuse all those who
dare on this point to quote the Chinese philosopher. But in-
stead of supporting their cause, they would shake it, if it could
be shaken, by their uncandid asperity; for they ought to re-
member, that one great end of revelation, as it is most expressly
declared, was not to instruct the wise and few, but the many
and unenlightened. To millions of the Chinese, who toil for
their daily support, it is unknown even at this day; nor, was it
known ever so perfectly, would it have a divine sanction with
the multitude. — Sir W. Jones. Asiatick Researches V.^. p.
177.

See also Grotius on the text.

121

of benevolence, who never thought of it as
a law. For all the advantages therefore,
which are derived from the reception of it
as a divine command, and for the diffusion
of a knowledge of it through all classes of
men, we are indebted to the gospel ; and
it is not necessary to take a wide survey of
life to be sensible, that, for these advan-
tages, our obligations are unspeakably
great to the Author and Finisher of our
faith.

Such is the attachment of man to his
own person, opinions, and interest, as often
to render him insensible, or inconsiderate
of the feelings, sentiments, and interests
of others. The love of ourselves is nat-
ural; and so far is Christianity from re-
proving the passion, that it makes our
self-love the standard by which we are to
regulate our love to our neighbour. But
between self-love and selfishness there is
an essential and important distinction. He
who loves his neighbour, as he loves him-
self, will never be selfish. But our self-
love degenerates into selfishness, in exact
16

122

proportion as it predominates over the love
which we owe to others. A christian is
bound, under all circumstances, to do to
others, as he knows it is the duty, and as
he might reasonably expect of others to do
to him. Actuated by this great law, his
self-love will impel him to every office of
equity and of kindness. It is a law, in the
application of which no ingenuous mind
can be mistaken ; and by which alone we
might, without difficulty, determine the
manner in which we ought to act, in every
condition, relation, and circumstance of
life.

The gospel makes our self-love the
standard, by which we are to regulate our
love to our neighbour. This is evidently
the spirit of the text, as it is also of the
second commandment of our Lord, thou
shall love thy neighbour as thyself. But
the inquiry naturally arises, what is com-
prehended in that self-love which the
gospel approves, and which it makes the
measure by which we are to determine the
extent of our social obligations. In An-

123

swering this inquiry, and in applying it,
we illustrate and enforce the duties which
are inculcated in the text.

There is a regard which every man may
reasonably attach to his own person, to his
own sentiments or opinions, to his interest
and to his reputation ; and this attachment
naturally excites a wish, and an expectation
of the regard of others. Now whatever
we might reasonably expect of others, that
it is our duty, on all occasions to practise ;
and to ascertain the extent of this obliga-
tion, it is necessary, in imagination, to
exchange conditions with others, and to
ask ourselves, what regard does the letter,
or the spirit of the gospel require, that in
such circumstances, we should receive
from those about us ? The inquiry, when
seriously proposed, immediately receives
the same answer from all.

i. We remark the influence of self-love
on the protection and care of our own
persons. To defend them from injuries,
and to relieve their sufferings, are among
the most interesting objects of our cares

124

and our pursuits ; and often do they re-
ceive protection and comfort from others,
which neither our own skill nor exertions
could obtain. This universal dependence
of men on one another, resulting from the
weakness of every individual, and his
liability to suffer without assistance, is the
strongest bond of our social union ; and
we therefore reasonably expect from others
a respect for our persons, and a readiness
to defend and to assist us, so far as our
conditions demand protection and aid. The
duties of others to ourselves are not, in-
deed, for a moment, doubted by any. Self-
love is always awake, and in an instant
suggests and enforces them by innumer-
able and irresistible motives. But are not
the same duties to others equally incum-
bent on us, and enforced by as many and
as powerful considerations? Let us can-
didly apply the rule, and ingenuously
admit the conclusions to which it leads us.
We have no right to expect from others
an equal love of our persons, and an equal
interest in their welfare, as we feel for them

125

ourselves ; but we do reasonably expect
that no one, without provocation, will in-
jure them. We often expect, when we
have injured others, that the evil will not
be retaliated. Let these expectations
govern our conduct towards others, and
every one will be secure, in his person,
against injuries from those with whom he
has intercourse. All have a right to de-
mand, and God will require of us, a regard
to their persons, proportioned to these
requisitions which self-love makes for our-
selves ; — that is, not only that we refrain
from inflicting suffering, but that we habit-
ually exercise the mildness and forbearance
of the christian temper; not only that we
exert ourselves to avoid giving pain, but
that we avail ourselves of every opportu-
nity of alleviating distress. The person of
another is as dear to him as ours is to us,
and by exchanging conditions with him,
our duties instantly become obvious. Is
he in danger ? Fly to rescue him, and
submit to the inconvenience or hazard
which you would require? Is he afflicted

126

with disease ? Let the unwearied attention
and uninterrupted kindness which you
would wish to receive, be the measure by
which to decide the kindness and attention
which you owe to him. Is he naked ? Is
he hungry ? You would wish, you would
expect, if in this condition to be fed and
clothed. Give freely then, of your bread,
to those who need it, and comfortable
raiment to him who is destitute. Remem-
ber that thou mayest be a stranger, and re-
ceive cheerfully into thy house him who has
no habitation ; or who, far from his home,
needs the shelter or the comforts which
thou canst furnish. You have, perhaps,
wanted the care, the sympathy, the benefi-
cence which others demand of you. You
may want them, even from those who now
need, and implore your assistance. If these
considerations do not awaken our regard
for others, we are affected by a selfishness
altogether inconsistent with the gospel.

2. To the variety of sentiments which
exist among men we are referred, as an-
other source of numerous and important

127

relative duties. This diversity is apparent,
not only when we speak of religion and of
civil policy, but in almost every subject on
which we converse ; and in proportion to
the strength of our conviction of the recti-
tude of our opinions, we must be con-
vinced that those of others, who differ
from us, are erroneous. This application
of the rule requires us to remember, that
the persuasion of another may be as firm
as ours ; and consequently, that he may
demand the same openness to conviction,
which we should expect from himself. It
requires us to realize, that the sentiments
of another may appear to him as valuable
and as important, as ours are to us, and to
exercise towards him the charity, which he
thinks that we need from himself. These
are indeed sentiments, the tendency of
which is so obviously evil, that we may
reasonably doubt the correctness of the
character of a man who avows them. Yet
as we know that calumny and oppression
irritate, rather than quiet the mind, and
confirm instead of changing our opinions

128

it is a violation of the plainest social duties
to revile and to persecute. An uncandid,
and uncharitable, a censorious and an over-
bearing temper, is the result of ignorance
of our own liability to errour ; for they never
were, and never will be indulged by those,
who so judge others, as they would them-
selves be judged.

What an effect would this application of
the text produce upon our own, and the
virtue and happiness of society? More
than half of the diversity of sentiments in
religion, in politicks, and in the business
of life, is maintained by a spirit of opposi-
tion, which is excited by our self-ignorance ;
and so generally are men ignorant of them-
selves, and of course, so ready for opposi-
tion, that a few ambitious, restless, and
bigoted spirits, can easily keep the whole
world in commotion. Many of the most
distinguished promoters of this contrariety
of opinions, and of this spirit of opposition,
have no value for any sentiments, but as
they may be rendered subservient to their
own interests ; and many, who think that

129

they differ most widely, if brought together,
and persuaded ingenuously to express their
sentiments, would find, either that the dif-
ference between them existed only in their
imaginations ; or at most, that it was too
inconsiderable to justify suspicion and en-
mity. There is indeed a real difference in
the opinions of men, and there must be,
while human nature remains as it is. But
let men do to others as they would that
others should do to them, and the order
and happiness of society would not be so
often interrupted ; contention and strife
would not be so frequent as they now are.
If we were as candid and as charitable to
others, as we would have them be to us,
we should hear none of those slanderous
reports, those false interpretations of the
words or conduct of others, which originate
in, and are circulated to gratify the worst
passions ; a thousand walls of separation
between man and man would be broken
down ; and our progress would be rapid to
that unity of spirit, and that perfection of

17

130

love, in which essentially consists the king-
dom of Christ.

3. Every man desires the respect of
others for his own chai'acter. The happi-
ness of almost every one is essentially
affected by the estimation in which he is
held by those with whom he associates, or
to whom he was known. In this applica-
tion of the rule to far the greatest part of
mankind, we might require only, that they
treat the characters of others with the same
tenderness which they would wish for
themselves, if their own defects or vices
were equally known to the world. We
may, and should endeavour to know the
characters of men, that we may know how
to conduct our intercourse with them ; that
we may duly appreciate the virtuous, de-
fend the injured, and be excited ourselves
to increasing vigilance ; — but let him who
is without sin cast the first stone ; let him
only condemn without mercy, who needs
not the mercy of God for himself ; let con-
science sit as judge in the court of our own
minds, before we pronounce the sentence

13*

of reprobation upon others. If you have
not committed crimes as great as have been
committed by others, consider that, under
similar circumstances, you might have been
guilty of them ; — consider that, strong as
you now stand, you are liable to fall ; and
place yourself in the condition of him, of
whom you are tempted to speak with con-
tempt or with reproach. How do you wish
to be viewed or treated by others, when
you have done wrong, or have incurred
suspicion ? The same gentleness and can-
dour you are required to exercise. These
dispositions you will exercise, if you know
your own weakness, your evil propensities,
and your sins.

In determining the respect which we owe
to men in the different ranks of life, let us
place ourselves in their conditions. Have
you a servant ? If you stood in the relation
to him which he does to you, you would de-
sire, you would love a spirit of kindness
and of accommodation, and punctuality in
the discharge of pecuniary obligations. So
conduct towards him, and you will not only

132

promote his happiness, but secure his
fidelity. Are you a servant ? Ask, then,
what you would have a right to require, if
you were a master ; and be as considerate
of the interests of him whom you serve, as
if they were your own. As a citizen, ex-
ercise the subordination, the deference to
the laws, which you might reasonably wish
of others, if you had been appointed to
rule ; and in all the relations and inter-
courses of life, estimate the tenderness
and respect which are due, by that which
you are conscious, in the same circum-
stances, you might consistently require.
Honour others, as you would in their sit-
uations be honoured. Judge them as
favourably as you would be judged. De-
fend them, when they are calumniated,
with the same benevolent spirit with which
you would wish to be vindicated. Then
no parent would have reason to complain
of his child, no friend of the desertion of
him whom he loved, and no neighbour of
the censoriousness of those about him ; —
no master would have occasion to reproach

133

his servant, and no servant to blame his
master ; — no magistrate would issue an
unjust law, and no subject would rebel
against the wise administration of the gov-
ernment of his country. If this single law
of the gospel were universally a rule of
life, we might, without suspicion, entrust
our reputations to others, and form and
enjoy every relation, without fear of any
other disappointment, than death might
occasion. Happy state of society ! Blessed
effects of the gospel ! When will this con-
fidence, this candour, this fidelity, this con-
descension and love prevail among men ?

4. We are directed also to make our
regard for our own interests, and the at-
tention which we reasonably require to
them, a measure by which to regulate our
own regard to the interests of others. Who
does not instantly anticipate the conse-
quences of this application of the rule ?

We would that men should be honest,
where our interests are involved, and we
deem it reasonable to demand an unre-
served uprightness. But if our judg-

134

ments are unperverted by selfishness, this
expectation of honesty in others, this clear
discernment of their duties, will render our
own equally perceptible, and equally obli-
gatory. Preserve this integrity then in all
your dealings, and you will so far fulfil the
law. We can have no better security of
uprightness, than the certainty that any
one will conduct towards us with the fair-
ness, which he would wish for himself; for
as no one is willing to be deceived, no one
would then be guilty of deception. But
is this the principle on which business is
transacted ? Look into the world. With
what jealous caution are contracts made ;
and how many bonds, independent of the
honour of man, are deemed requisite, as
securities that engagements will be accom-
plished ? It seems to be an established
maxim, to do to others, as we think that
others would do to us ; and this maxim is
so early and so impressively inculcated,
that many, who are otherwise virtuous,
appear to mistake this for the requirement
of Christ. But it is a very different stand-

135

ard to which he requires his disciples to
conform their conduct. However corrupt
others may be, to be christians, we must
do to them, as, in the sincerity and piety
of our hearts, we wish that they should do
to us.

Innumerable opportunities occur, in which
we may essentially aid the interests of
others, or protect them from injury. We
sometimes witness, or experience these
beneficent offices, and they always attach
us to him who performs them. These
occasions of applying the text cannot be
specified. They occur every day ; and He
who observes the falling of a sparrow to
the ground, will not be regardless of the
man, who will turn out of his way to sug-
gest to his neighbour an improvement
which might be made ; or be delayed for a
moment, that he may mend a gap, by
which the field of another, when he was
unconscious of it, was exposed to injury.

This is one of the great laws by which
we shall be judged at the bar of Christ. In
this short compass has our divine teacher

136

expressed all the duties, which he requires
from man to man ; and as no one is so
ignorant that he cannot understand this
law ; as no memory is so treacherous that
it cannot retain it, all will be without ex-
cuse by whom it is disregarded. A narrow,
selfish spirit, is of all others the most
inconsistent with the gospel. Be ye there-
fore kind and affectionate one towards
another ; and as ye would that men should
do to you, do ye even so to them. For-
give, because God has commanded it, and
because ye feel your frailty, and ye shall be
forgiven. Give, and it shall be given to
you. Bear ye one another's burdens, and
so fulfil the law of Christ. Let your fidelity
equal your highest desires of others ; and
let us consider every man as our brother,
who has occasion for our integrity, or our
kindness. By these social duties, and the
pious and personal offices of the gospel,
may we all be trained for an eternal union
with the just made perfect, with the Re-
deemer, and with God !

DISCOURSE V.

ROMANS xiii. 8.
Owe no man any thing, but to love one another.

ONE of the best means of maintaining
that love of others, which Christianity re-
quires, is to owe them nothing but love.
We owe love to all, because we are all
mutually dependent, and there is no one
whose sympathy or assistance we may not
require ; because we are the offspring of the
same parent, who made us to live together,
and to love one another, as members of
one family ; because all are capable of
immortal improvement and happiness.
This love indeed will excite us to every
exertion to relieve the wants of others,
18

138

and to extend to them every accommoda-
tion which, in similar circumstances, we
should wish for ourselves ; but the same
love will impel him, who has received the
favour, to that gratitude to his benefactor,
and that kindness to others, which are the
best returns for every office of benevo-
lence ; and where, by borrowing or pur-
chasing, he has incurred the obligation to
pay, it will render him not less solicitous
and active to satisfy the just demands of
his creditor, than, if he were the creditor,
he should desire for himself.

Every duty growing out of our relations
and intercourses is recognized in the gos-
pel, and inculcated as a part of the service
which we owe to God. This is a most
important principle ; and I would to God,
my brethren, that it were deeply impressed
upon all our minds. We are too apt to
consider religion and morality as distinct
and independent ; and to believe that a
man may have an incorruptible morality
who has no piety, and that the prayers and
conversations of some men stamp their

139

characters with the impression of piety,
while they have at best an uncertain, or
perhaps an obviously defective morality.
It is often this very erroneous sentiment,
which occasions the intrusion of unhal-
lowed members into the church ; and it is
the satisfaction with their own morality,
which this sentiment awakens in others,
which causes them to view with jealousy
the professors of religion, and even to con-
gratulate themselves in triumph, that they
have made no acknowledgments of their
faith and obligations. But let it be re-
membered, that every duty, growing out
of our relations and intercourses, is as
essentially a part of the service of God, as
the study of his word, and the exercises of
prayer. Let it be remembered, that then
only do we love God, when we keep his
commandments ; that for all our sentiments,
affections, and conduct, we shall be called
into judgment ; and that it is essential to
our preparation for a union with the just
made perfect, that we love and faithfully
practise in this world the righteousness of

140

the gospel. To one branch of this great
law I invite your attention. " Owe no man
any thing," says the word of God, "but to
love one another."

The principle, from which results the
obligation to the payment of debts, is
obvious ; and this obligation is as imperi-
ous, as any one in the whole range of
social morality. A debt implies an equiva-
lent, or a consideration, received by our-
selves, or by some one for whose punctual-
ity we have made ourselves responsible.
The acknowledgment of a debt, therefore,
is an acknowledgment that so much of our
possessions as we owe to another, belongs
of right to him, and no longer to ourselves.
This right in his property, of every one to
whom he is indebted, every good man
feels ; and therefore feels himself bound to
the denial of every indulgence, which
would interfere with the obligations into
which he has entered with his creditor.
He will deem his time and his labours to
be in the right of his creditor, so far as
they are necessary for the satisfaction of

141

his just demand. This is both law and
gospel. Christianity does not indeed
sanction the oppression of the poor and
unfortunate, whose necessities have been
the unhappy cause of the obligations which
they have contracted ; or who, subse-
quently to the contraction of debts, have
been involved in calamities which render
payment impossible. Here the great law
of doing to others, as we would that others
should do to us, requires the exercise of
all the forbearance, and tenderness, and
accommodation, which we should wish for
ourselves ; but, in its turn, it demands of
us all the efforts of our strength and skill,
as speedily as possible, and to the extent
of his rights, to satisfy him, whose forbear-
ance and kindness we have experienced.
Nor is the text to be interpreted as a pro-
hibition, under any circumstances, to the
contraction of debts. In civil society, this
would be an impracticable command. But
it plainly implies the duty of habitual
caution not to owe, what we shall not be
able to pay ; to be punctual in our pecu-

142

niary engagements ; and not to indulge in
any expenses, or any modes of living,
either inconsistent with this punctuality, or
which will cause us to resort to debts for
the maintainance of our stations. These
duties, my brethren, will naturally flow
from that love which Christianity inculcates ;
and these duties I would enforce, by ex-
hibiting some of the causes and the con-
sequences of their neglect.

There are some men of that invincible
indolence, that .they are always willing to
live upon others, while others can be in-
duced by any means to support them ; and
what they cannot obtain from charity, they
procure by credit, without feeling a sensa-
tion of uneasiness, till their little stock of
honour, and the patience of those who
have trusted them, are alike exhausted.
An indolent man is satisfied, if his wants
are supplied for the day which is passing
over him ; and with indolence is generally
united that deeply rooted selfishness, which
represses every consideration of the incon-
venience, or the unhappiness which he may

143

occasion to those who are relying on his
integrity, and whose confidence he so easily
abuses. Every debt thus contracted is in
violation of the plainest principles of jus-
tice ; and let a man make what professions
he will, if he had rather borrow than labour,
and owe another than support himself, he
is without the pale of the church, and so
far forfeits his relation to Christ. "This
also," says Paul, "we commanded, if a man
will not work, neither shall he eat."

But indolence is not the only cause of
the contraction of unjust debts. There are
some men, who are not only active, but of
a zeal in their pursuits which forbids every
prudential consideration. They have ever
some favourite project in operation, of the
accomplishment of which they are certain ;
some castle in the air, for which they have
yet to provide a foundation ; and as these
are not, commonly, men who have enriched
themselves by their enterprises, they are
obliged to depend on others, to whom they
can make their projects almost as reason-
able as to themselves ; and who are prom-

144

ised, if they will provide the foundation,
the castle and all its riches may easily
become their own. In this source have
innumerable debts originated ; and by this
cause have many, in their eagerness to
swell a competency into a fortune, been
stripped of all their possessions, and over-
whelmed with wretchedness.

This disposition to new and untried
schemes, is generally a cause of misfortune,
alike to him who forms, and to those who
adopt them. Enterprise and improvements
should indeed be encouraged ; but there is
a wide difference between a mind which
calmly investigates principles, and shews
their results ; and which applies its skill to
the diminution of human labour, to the
advancement of the knowledge of man, and
the increase of the comforts of life; and
the wild suggestions of an undisciplined
imagination, which fancies a work which is
anticipated to be half accomplished ; or the
uncurbed designs of men, anxious to ac-
quire fortunes in a day, and regardless who
are disappointed and ruined, if they are

H5

elevated and enriched. Of such designs
have many unsuspecting individuals, many
virtuous families become the victims ; and
he who would avoid debt, and all its dis-
tressing consequences, must avoid, as a
certain means of inducing it, both the love
of forming projects, and the indiscreet
adoption of the schemes of the visionary.

Another cause of iniquitous debts, is
extravagance, induced by the love of pomp
or of pleasure ; the habit of indulging
freely in expence, without considering its
tendencies. To have the means of in-
dulging this expence, is all which some
men desire ; and they think as little of the
obligation which has been given for what
has been received, as if a word at any
moment might cancel it. This is bare-
faced fraud and knavery. Perhaps indeed
the mask of business is assumed to cover
the deception. But the man who indulges
his appetites, or his vanity, or any other
passion, at the expence of others who rely
on his integrity, and squanders the prop-
erty which he obtained with the pretence
19

146

of improving it, should be treated as the
enemy of virtue and of social order. It is
in the habits of such men that most of' the
suspicion originates, which so strongly
marks the intercourses of business. They
injure all who confide in them, and corrupt
all with whom they have intercourse.

There are likewise men, who, without
all this vice, essentially violate the great
principles of justice, in their habitual ne-
glect of pecuniary obligations. Some,
from the mere gratification of retaining
property in their possession, avail them-
selves of every artifice to delay the satis-
faction of demands, the right of which they
acknowledge. This is an indisputable
evidence of a contracted, a selfish and
sordid mind. Others are not less negli-
gent in the discharge of this important
duty, from utter inconsideration. Property
in their possession, becomes their own ; and
having appropriated it to the purposes for
which it was obtained, they think no more
of him who may claim it, nor are aware
at all of the disappointment which awaits

H7

them. Some very freely contract debts,
which they hope, and flatter themselves, they
shall be enabled to pay, without perhaps
having any proper basis on which to build
the expectation ; and others, having es-
caped in a few instances the effects which
they apprehended, have been emboldened
to perseverance, till they have involved
themselves in ruin. All these causes, in a
greater or less .degree, are to be attributed
to a deficiency of moral and religious
principle ; to a neglect of the great duty of
doing to others, as we would that they
should do to us ; and to inconsideration of
the account which we must all ultimately
render, when the neglect or violation of
integrity towards man, will be accounted
unrighteousness towards God. In these
causes originate very much of the vice and
misery of life.

We have said that, to this dishonesty is
to be ascribed the jealousies, which so
strongly mark all the intercourses of busi-
ness. Many who felt not the cravings of
avarice, nor any solicitude for the pomp of

148

wealth ; who commenced their career of
life with the best resolutions of upright-
ness, and who long and firmly maintained
them, by the deceptions, the impositions
which they have experienced, have been
seduced to the same disingenuousness and
duplicity, and become as vile as those by
whom they were corrupted. Are not the
instigators of this vice, then, in the sight
of God, accountable for its consequences ?
To trust an honest, but necessitous man,
is one of the most grateful offices of life.
It is a privilege for which they owe much
to God, who are permitted to enjoy it. But
how often are even the most upright,
objects of suspicion, simply because men
have been so often deceived, that they
know not how to repose confidence in one
another. This unhappy influence, pro-
duced upon the minds of the rich, and
which hasty and uncandid observers at-
tribute in every instance to parsimony, is
more frequently than we are aware to be
attributed to a profligate dishonesty in
many whom they have trusted. Unable to

149

discriminate, by the professions of men,
between the virtuous and the base, they
sometimes treat the base as virtuous, and
deny their confidence and aid to the in-
tegrity, which if better known, would be
prized and honoured. Let the condemna-
tion therefore, which is excited by this
disappointment and suffering of the up-
right, fall where it is due ; upon those
who break obligations with as much facility
as they break their bread ; and who regard
not the miseries which they occasion to
others, if they may gratify their passions,
and enjoy the day as it passes them.

A man who indulges himself in con-
tracting debts, if he had it not before,
generally acquires with this indulgence a
habit of forming and of pursuing projects,
which he thinks will most easily relieve
him from his painful embarrassments. He
becomes disgusted with the slow and
monotonous efforts of the employment to
which he was educated, plunges into new
plans, and scarcely suspects his danger,

i5o

till he is irretrievably ruined. Shall I
adduce examples ? — I forbear.

In the consciousness of owing much
which he knows not how to repay, means
are suggested, from which conscience at
first revolts with abhorrence. But does
not the mind turn from these means of
relieving its inquietude with less and less
aversion, till at length it secretly justifies
and adopts them ? This indeed is a dread-
ful consequence of adventuring in debts,
beyond our ability of payment ; but there
is reason to fear that it is not unusual. At
least, we have reason to believe, that this
state of the mind has a strong tendency to
diminish moral susceptibility ; and that,
however vigorous are his exertions, his
virtue is in incessant and the most immi-
nent danger, who has permitted himself to
be heavily burdened with a weight of
pecuniary obligations.

But why, my brethren, should I attempt
to describe the agitations, the sufferings of
a man, who either by indiscretion or
extravagance, has involved himself in em-

i5i

barrassments, from which he knows not
how to extricate himself? It requires no
penetration to discern the artifices, by
which he is labouring to deceive himself
and others ; the anguish which preys upon
his thoughts, in the apprehension of what
he may yet have to experience. Perhaps,
to cover the iniquity which must soon be
exposed, he involves himself still more
deeply ; and spreads wider the disappoint-
ment and suffering, which the discovery of
his guilt will occasion. — To protract the
approach of his fall, or with the secret hope
of recovering his lost possessions, he flies
to the gaming table. — To forget himself,
and those whom he has injured, he be-
comes abandoned to intemperance. His
wife and children are the victims of want
and sorrow ; while he, an outcast from
society, and condemned to the gloom of a
prison, is perhaps cursed for his perfidy,
and covered with disgrace. These are not,
indeed, in every instance, the consequences
of debts unjustly or imprudently con-
tracted ; but to all these evils they cer-

152

tainly expose us ; and most impressively
does each of them enjoin the apostolick
injunction, "owe no man any thing, but to
love one another/'

A man who contracts a debt, which he
has good reason to believe that he shall
not be able to pay, or a man who withholds
a debt, the justice of which he cannot deny,
to the amount of the debt is guilty of de-
liberate robbery in the sight of God.

It is not a local evil to which the apostle
refers in the text, but one which prevails
in every society, and which is productive,
wherever it prevails, of innumerable ca-
lamities. It involves likewise so much
vice, that it is surprising that the subject
should not obtain the more frequent and
solemn consideration of those, who are the
professed guardians of publick morals, and
whose office it is to persuade men to
universal virtue.

This subject, my brethren, has a nearer
relation than at first we might imagine, to
our interests in the life which awaits us.
Of all our transactions in business we must

153

then render an account ; and every act of
accommodation to the necessitous, every
sacrifice which we have made to integrity,
will receive its reward ; every instance of
fidelity in our engagements, from a princi-
ple of obedience to the will of God, will be
graciously accepted. And then too will
every artifice of deceivers be exposed ;
every mean advantage which they have
taken of others, and every act of oppres-
sion, which they have done or promoted.
Every work of darkness will be brought to
light, and every counsel of every heart will
be judged. Is not this a subject then of
universal, of most solemn interest ?

As a brother, I would caution the young
religiously to avoid all those projects and
indulgences, which, by involving them in
debt, will embarrass all their exertions,
expose their integrity to innumerable
temptations, and render their lives a prey
to cares and sorrow. Let the fairness and
honesty of the gospel characterize all your
dealings ; and never hesitate at the loss of
any earthly good, which you must part
20

154

with to retain your uprightness. Let the
resolution of holy Job, "till I die, I will
not remove my integrity from me," be
deliberately and unreservedly adopted.
To the upright, there will arise light in the
darkness ; but the candle of the wicked
shall be put out.

Brethren, let us love one another, for
love is of God ; but while we receive and
exercise the accommodation of christians,
let us, as far as it is practicable, owe no
man anything but love. In all our inter-
courses of business, let us feel the presence
of Him who will call us into judgment and
be restrained from every act of injustice.
The day is coming, in which the wages of
iniquity will be deemed but a miserable
compensation for the reproaches of a guilty
conscience. In that day may our hearts
be gladdened, by the remembrance of
temptations successfully resisted, and by
His approbation of our virtue, whose fa-
vour is eternal life and happiness !

DISCOURSE VI.

MATTHEW v. 44, 45.

Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do
good to them that hate you, and pray for them which
despitefully use you, and persecute you ; that ye may
be the children of your Father which is in heaven ;

For He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and

on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on
the mijust.

HOW often, my brethren, while pon-
dering upon the instructions of our divine
Saviour, does the pious mind repeat the
exclamation, " never man spake like this
man ! " To repress resentment, though it
be secretly cherished, is deemed, by men
of the world, a considerable attainment in
virtue. To forgive offences has been con-
sidered the sublime of self-command, and

156

of devotion to duty ; and it is an elevation
of virtue which few habitually maintain.
But Jesus Christ requires far more of all
his followers. To be his disciples, we must
love our enemies ; we must bless them
that curse us, do good to them that hate us,
and pray for them that despitefully use us,
and persecute us. Did ever man speak
like this man !

Our text exhibits one of the character-
isticks of the morality of the gospel ; a
morality which disdains the smallest ac-
commodation to the prejudices or the
vices of the world. It was addressed to
men who had been taught to cherish an
eternal hatred of all, who did not conform,
in every particular, to their own rites and
traditions. Israelites who denied the law
and the prophets, and Gentiles of every
nation, were not considered, by the Jewish
doctors, as objects of the command, "thou
shalt not kill ;" and they justified alike the
open and secret murder of heretics whom
they could not reclaim. To this exposition
of the law, they admitted indeed exceptions ;

157

forbidding the wanton destruction of Gen-
tiles with whom they were not at war, of
shepherds who peaceably kept their little
flocks, and others of this kind ; but at the
same time they prohibited a Jew, if he
should see one of them falling into the sea,
to use any means for his rescue.* Some
of these doctors were perhaps among the
hearers of the sermon on the mount ; and
very many who had received their inter-
pretations, as of equal authority with the
divine commands. Nay, so much had this
hatred of every other people become a
national sentiment, that a Roman historian
of the first century of the christian sera,
when speaking of the Jews, observes, they
are faithful towards each other, and ready
to exercise the offices of benevolence, but
to men of every other country they are the
most implacable enemies. These were the
men to whom Jesus said, " bless them that
curse you, do good to them that hate you,
and pray for them that despitefully use
and persecute you." It was a precept with

* See Lightfoot's Horae Hebraicae, Mat. v. 33.

158

which all their passions and their habits
were at war. Yet no attempt is made to
reconcile these adverse principles. To be
his disciples, to be the children of God,
their resentment, and every passion by
which it was excited, must be brought into
subjection ; they must exercise towards all
others the forbearance and benevolence,
which God was every day exercising to-
wards them. Does not the duty, in this
view of it, approve itself to the reason of
every ingenuous mind ? Observe the
beautiful gradation in the command, and
the motive by which it is enforced. Love
your enemies. Shew that you love them,
by returning blessings for curses ; by pity-
ing and forgiving them ; by addressing
them in the language of kindness and of
pardon ; and pray to God that he may
forgive them, that they be preserved as
well from the future, as from the present
effects of their ungoverned passions. In
this resemblance of God, he will recognize
you as his children ; for he is kind to the
evil and to the unthankful. He maketh

159

his sun to rise on the good and on the
evil ; and sendeth rain on the just and on
the unjust.

Our Saviour was not indeed the first
who taught the forgiveness of injuries. It
was inculcated by the most distinguished
philosopher of Greece, four hundred years
before the appearance of Christ, and most
admirably illustrated by his example.* "To
repress resentment is honourable to human
nature, " says a heathen biographer and
moralist. f "But to feel pity for the mis-
fortunes of an enemy, to listen to his sup-
plications, to be ready to relieve him and
his children in their embarrassments, dis-
covers a disposition, which he who loves
not, has a heart which is black, and fabri-
cated of adamant or iron.,, The duty has
probably been acknowledged by a few of
the wise and good of every age of the
world ; but it had not formed a part of the
religious code of any nation, except the
Jewish, and by them was so imperfectly
understood, and so obscured by idle and

* Socrates. f Plutarch. See Grotius upon the text.

i6o

selfish expositions, that its very existence
could be known only by a recurrence to
their laws. But it forms one of the most
prominent features in the christian system ;
and our habitual observance of the duty is
one of the conditions, on which we are
taught to hope for the mercy of God.
From the instructions and the example of
Christ, I would therefore define its nature
and its extent. This is the object of our
discourse ; and may God bestow on it his
blessing !

The passion of anger forms a part of our
moral constitutions, as much as love, or
fear, or any other passion ; and we have
therefore reason to presume that it was
intended, like other passions, for good, and
not for evil ; that it is to be governed, and
not destroyed. With this intimation of
reason, let us compare the instructions of
the gospel ; and in this, as in every other
instance, we shall find that they are deeply
founded in the nature of man.

"If it be possible," says St. Paul, "as
much as lieth in you, live peaceably with

i6i

all men."* The command implies, if it be
not impossible, that it is at least extremely
difficult, to live peaceably with some men.
Their irritable and obstinate tempers are so
easily and so frequently excited, and, though
the most unaccommodating of men, they
are so unjust in their demands upon others,
and are rendered so imperious and cruel
by indulgence, that we must not only
sacrifice our comfort, but our very virtue,
or our lives, if we would maintain tran-
quillity by the gratification of their hu-
mours. With such men, as far as it is
possible, in consistency with a conscience
void of offence, we are to preserve peace,
avoiding as much as we can every cause of
provocation ; and rather to endure many
wrongs than to retaliate. "Hence," says
the apostle in the succeeding verse,
"dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves,
but rather give place unto wrath ; " that is,
patiently wait for the resentments, the
judgments of God ; "for it is written, ven-
geance is mine, I will repay, saith the

* Rom. xii. 19.
21

l62

Lord." Here it is supposed that indigna-
tion of unwarranted injuries may be felt by
the best of men ; but between this emo-
tion, and the desire of revenge, the
distinction is most cautiously preserved.
Were it not that anger is naturally and
irresistibly excited by great and undeserved
indignities or wrongs, the requirement
would be without force, and almost without
meaning, "if it be possible, as much as
lieth in you, live peaceably with all men."
But supposing, as it does, not only the
existence of the passion, but its very pow-
erful influence, it provides not only against
all its excesses, but against the circum-
stances by which it is excited. If it be
impossible to live peaceably with any man,
do not unnecessarily exasperate him. Ex-
ercise towards him the gentleness and
accommodation of the christian temper.
But if he will be offended and injure you,
though you feel indignant, do not seek
satisfaction in revenge. From the evils
against which the laws will not defend you,
trust your vindication to God. He will

163

assert your good name against every
calumny ; He will repay you for every
wrong. This I believe is the spirit of the
command ; and every well ordered and
ingenuous mind will acknowledge its wis-
dom, and submit to its influence.

"Be ye angry, and sin not; let not the
sun go down upon your wrath ; neither
give place to the devil. "*

Here it is supposed that anger may
glance into the breast of a wise, a pious
man ; and where is the man who has not
felt it ? But to feel the passion is not evil,
because it is necessary, and unavoidable.
It would be absurd to say, though ye be
angry, do not sin, if anger itself, in its first
excitement, was sin. The distinction made
by the apostle proves, that the passion
then only becomes evil, when it is cherished
and indulged. Anger, says Solomon, rests,
or degenerates into revenge, only in the
bosom of fools, or of the wicked. To
prevent this degeneracy, the apostle adds,
44 let not the sun go down upon your wrath,

* Eph. iv. 26, 27.

164

neither give place to the devil ; or to the
infernal spirit of resentment/' It is a rule
admirably adapted to secure us against the
dreadful excesses of this passion. Let all
the differences of every day be adjusted
before the setting of the sun ; or at least,
before this time, let anger be subjected to
the restraints of the will of God, and every
thought of retaliation banished from the
mind, and the passion would soon become
easily reducible to the authority of reason,
and of the divine laws. We should not
only know, by our own experience, that it
is possible to be angry and not to sin, but
we should every day be more cautious of
giving offence, and better able to bear it.
By the knowledge which we should thus
acquire of our own hearts, we should con-
stantly be more easily induced to pity and
forgive those, who are the victims of a
passion which we have learned to controul,
and whom we know frequently to suffer
more, than with all their malignity they
are able to inflict.

" Whosoever shall be angry with his

i65

brother without a cause, shall be in danger
of the judgment." * Here our Lord sup-
poses that there may be a cause which will
justify anger. The question then arises,
when is the passion justified ? Before we
attempt to answer this inquiry, it is neces-
sary to observe, that it is simply anger, or
indignation excited by wrong or injury, to
which he alludes, and not resentment ; for
the gospel does not admit any cause as a
justification of revenge. In what instance
then can we justify anger? Every man
supposes, when he feels the passion, that
he has cause to feel it. But the inquiry is
too important, it involves too much, to be
hastily decided by the opinions of irascible
men. It must be acknowledged too, that
in the vast variety of provocations and
injuries, by which anger is excited, so
much do they often resemble each other,
and so blended one with the other are the
shades of their guilt, that in our coolest
moments, and with all our powers of dis-
crimination, it is not a little difficult to

* Matth. v. 22.

1 66

determine precisely, upon christian prin-
ciples, the boundary which separates jus-
tifiable from unlawful anger. St. Mark
has mentioned two instances in which the
passion was felt by our Lord. And an
incident is related by St. John, which
obviously implies it. When the Pharisees
watched him, to know whether, on the
sabbath day, he would heal a man with a
withered hand, he looked round about on
them with anger, being grieved for the
hardness of their hearts. * He was grieved
for them, while he was indignant at the
offence which they had committed. We
must admit this distinction, for anger and
grief could not, at the same moment, be
exercised upon the same object. What
then was the offence of the Pharisees ? It
involved a denial of his divine mission,
which he had attested by the most won-
derful miracles ; and an endeavour, as far
as possible, to counteract the purposes for
which he came into the world. It was an
offence committed against the light, both

♦Mark iii, 2 — 5.

167

of their own scriptures and of their reasons.
It was the greatest injury which they could
possibly have done, either to others or to
themselves. If any cause can justify
anger, surely it is this. He was indignant
against an offence committed against such
light, such motives, and involving conse-
quences so extensive and awful; — but he
pitied the offenders, instead of pursuing
them with resentment. — Again, says St.
Mark, "they brought young children to
him, that he should touch them ; and his
disciples rebuked those who brought them.
But when Jesus saw it, he was much dis-
pleased ; " he was moved with indignation.
Thus is the expression repeatedly rendered
in the New Testament.*55, He was indig-
nant at the offence of their resistance ; but
he expressed towards them no resentment.
They would have restrained parents from
the attainment of one of the choicest
privileges for their children, the blessing
of their Saviour ; a privilege which, thanks
to God, still continues to be the rich

* See Matth. x. 24. and xxvi. 8. and Luke xiii. 14.

i68

inheritance of his church ; — and Jesus
could not but behold them with much
displeasure. — We are informed also by
St. John,* that when our Lord went up to
Jerusalem, to celebrate the first passover
which occurred after his ministry, "he
found in the temple those that sold oxen,
and sheep, and doves, and the changers of
money, sitting." The oxen and doves
were sold for the accommodation of those,
who could not bring their sacrifices with
them ; and the money changers, in ex-
change for other coin, furnished the half
shekel, which the law required that every
man should offer.f The traffick in itself
was lawful ; but it was unlawful, it was
impious, to pursue it within the limits of
the temple, to convert the house of God
into a place of merchandise. To have
viewed this profanation with indifference
was impossible. In Jesus, it excited an
irresistible sentiment of abhorrence ; and
what he strongly felt, he as strongly ex-

*Chap. ii. ver. 13 & seq.
fSee Exod. xxx. 13, 15.

169

pressed. He made a scourge of small
cords, and drove them all out of the
temple, and the sheep and the oxen ; and
poured out the changers' money, and over-
threw the tables ; and said unto them that
sold doves, "take these things hence;
make not my Father's house a house of
merchandize." How strong must have
been the indignation, which excited the
meek and benevolent Saviour of men to
such an act of violence? But it was as
distinct from revenge, as it was from ap-
probation. It was not the injury of the
persons that he designed, but the punish-
ment of the offence ; an expression of his
abhorrence of the profanation of the place,
which was consecrated to the worship of
God. If then, from the example of Christ,
we infer the causes which will justify anger,
the number will be comparatively small.
The offence must involve important con-
sequences. It must originate in the evil
passions of him who commits it ; and our
indignation must be wholly devoid of sel-
fishness. The gospel does not recognise,
22

170

in the little disappointments and perplex-
ities of every day, the justification of an
irritable and petulant temper ; nor does it
admit, as a cause of anger, the insults and
injuries to which men are exposed, in the
common business or intercourses of life.
When exposed to such offences, our Lord
exhibited no impatience ; he uttered no
expression of anger. He had no jealousy
to be excited ; no pride to be mortified ;
no contracted and selfish feelings to gratify.
He did not consider for a moment, to what
motives men might attribute his gentle-
ness and forbearance. If the offence in-
volved only his own inconvenience or
suffering, his pity, but not his anger, was
awakened. If restrained within these
limits, anger is not sin. When the laws
of God and of man are essentially violated
by wanton injustice, we must feel indigna-
tion, if we love order and virtue ; but, like
our Lord, we are to attach anger to the
offence, and not to the offender. This is
no unwarrantable refinement. It is founded
in scripture, and it is practicable ; and must

i7i

necessarily be admitted, if we could recon-
cile, in any instance, the smallest indul-
gence of anger, with that forgiveness and
love of our enemies, which the gospel
demands as a condition of salvation.

But though the gospel supposes that
anger may be felt by christians, and that
there may be causes which justify it, it
utterly forbids retaliation, or revenge.
" Ye have heard "that it hath been said, an
eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth."
These were punishments which the judges,
but not the injured, were permitted to in-
flict under the Jewish law. It is strictly
the law of retaliation ; and he who had
received injury, had a right to demand its
execution. By the same law, a relation of
one who was murdered, was allowed with
impunity to take the life of the murderer.
"But I say unto you/' said Jesus, "that ye
resist not evil ; but whosoever shall smite
thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the
other also ; and if any man will sue thee
at the law, and take away thy coat, give
him thy cloak also ; and whosoever shall

172

compel thee to go a mile, go with him
twain. " The command, indeed, is not to
be interpreted without restrictions, any-
more than the requirement to hate father
and mother, husband and wife, and even
our own lives. But it implies, at least,
that we should not revenge these indig-
nities and privations. It is parallel with,
and best explained by the commands, Be
not overcome of evil, but overcome evil
with good ; and, If thine enemy hunger,
feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink. It
implies that we should rather suffer a
repetition of wrongs, than avenge our-
selves by a return of violence. With these
illustrations in our view, I would endeavour
to mark the nature and extent of that for-
giveness and love of our enemies, which
the gospel inculcates.

Our Lord has defined the nature of
forgiveness in our text. The Jews had
been taught, not by the law of Moses, but
by their own scribes, the appointed teachers
of the law, to love their neighbours, or all
who were Jews, but to hate their enemies,

173

or all who were Gentiles. This is the
sentiment which our Lord particularly
opposes in the text. But that he had
reference also to the private enmities
which they felt towards each other, is
evident from the appeal which he immedi-
ately added, If ye love those who love you,
what reward have you ? Do not even the
publicans and sinners, whom you hate, the
same ? And if ye salute your brethren
only, do not even the publicans so ? What
then is the love, the forgiveness, which
Jesus demanded ? It is, and must be, an
affection, which is consistent with indigna-
tion at the offence which has been com-
mitted. It consists of pity of the disposition
in which the evil originated, and a willing-
ness to endure any insults or wrongs rather
than to revenge them. It embraces not
only a desire of the reformation of the
offender, but a readiness to return good
for evil, and blessings for curses. It is an
affection which will excite us to seek for
the injurer the pardon of God. It is a for-
giveness as entire, as we hope to receive

174

from God of our own sins. It is the same
forbearance and love which God is every
day exercising towards the evil and un-
thankful, continuing to them the blessings
which they have forfeited, and by his
mercies calling them to repentance. All
this is included in the precept, "love your
enemies, bless them that curse you, do
good to them that hate you, and pray for
them who despitefully use you and perse-
cute you, that ye may be the children of
your Father who is in heaven ; for He
maketh His sun to rise on the good and
on the evil, and sendeth rain on the just
and on the unjust."

From this precept, likewise, might we
deduce the extent of christian forgiveness.
It is adapted to guard every avenue of the
heart against the entrance of resentment ;
to prepare it for every trial, and to secure
its successful resistance of every evil pas-
sion. But notwithstanding the plainness
of this command, the means which it pre-
scribes of obeying it, and the motives by
which it is enforced ; notwithstanding the

175

frequency, and the varied manner of its
repetition, even the apostles did not fully
comprehend its meaning. How often, said
Peter, shall my brother sin against me, and
I forgive him ? Till seven times ? Suppose
the inquiry had been proposed to a Roman
philosopher; to him who is admitted to
have been the wisest and the best man, as
well as the most consummate orator which
Rome ever produced. What would have
been his answer? It is written in his
familiar letters to his friends. "I hate the
man, said he, and will hate him, and wish
that I could be revenged." "I would re-
venge every crime according to the degree
of its provocation." * Suppose it to have
been proposed to a Jewish teacher. We
have his answer in the decrees of their
doctors. "Three offences are to be for-
given, but not the fourth." But what was
the reply of Jesus ? Observe it, my breth-
ren ; and remark in it the extent of that
forgiveness which he requires us to exer-
cise. " Shall I forgive my brother seven

* Grotius de verit. relig. christ. lib. 2. 1 2.

176

times ?" Without doubt Peter proposed
this inquiry, with a full conviction that it
would obtain the admiration and applause
of Jesus ; and it probably implied a benev-
olence, of which he had never formed any
conception, till he had become a follower
of Christ. " Shall I forgive my brother
seven times ?" "I say not unto thee,"
said Jesus, "until seven times; but until
seventy times seven. " Thou shalt forgive
as frequently as provocations are renewed.
Thou shalt never revenge. "Shouldst not
thou have compassion on thy fellow ser-
vant, even as thy Lord had pity on thee ?
If thou hopest that God will forgive thee
thy debt of ten thousand talents, shouldst
not thou forgive thy fellow servant, who
owest thee an hundred pence?" The
precept is perfect. It admits of no ad-
ditions and no exceptions. Let us view
its illustration in the example of Christ.

We have adverted to the tenderness,
the grief 'which our Lord exhibited towards
those, who were watching whether he
would heal on the sabbath day, that they

177

might accuse him. It was in his mind a
sentiment far stronger, than the indigna-
tion which their conduct excited ; for of
this we have no evidence in any expression
which he uttered. His language was the
most dispassionate, the most worthy of his
character. " Is it lawful, " said he, "to do
good on the sabbath day, or to do evil ; to
save life or to kill?" By the same class
of men he was perpetually followed with
the most insidious designs ; at one time
proposing inquiries, the answers to which,
they imagined, must necessarily expose
him to the judgments, either of the civil
or the ecclesiastical authorities; and at
another, attributing the most beneficent
exertions to infernal agency. But, instead
of repulsing them with angry revilings, he
never failed to resolve the doubts which
they suggested, and to renew in their
presence those evidences of his divine
mission, which were adapted to produce
conviction, and grateful acknowledgment.
How admirably did this conduct illustrate
and enforce the requirement, "do good to

23

1 78

them that hate you?" He denounced
indeed the most awful judgments against
the scribes and pharisees. He called them
hypocrites ; he compared them to whited
sepulchres, and to graves which appear
not. But he applied every means of
bringing them to repentance. He prac-
tised towards them all the forgiveness and
the affection which he inculcated. Under
the most accumulated insults and injuries,
his forbearance was perfect. We discover
no feeling, but of compassion for his
enemies. We hear no expression, which
is not adapted to convert their wrath into
penitential sorrow, the warmest love, and
the most entire devotion to his service.
His pity for their blindness, their obduracy,
and his zeal for their reformation, were
greater even than their own vengeance.
He did not cease, even to the last moment
of life, to seek for them the compassion,
the pardon of God. This is christian for-
giveness. It is to pity the offender, while
we are indignant at the offence. It is to
return for the curses of those who would

179

injure us, prayers to God for their pardon
and reformation ; and every benevolent
effort which their circumstances may re-
quire, for the malignant purposes which
they have formed, or have accomplished
against us. It is to be merciful to them,
as God is merciful to us. It is to forgive,
as we hope to be forgiven. All this is
comprehended in that love of our enemies
which the gospel inculcates. All this is
taught as clearly, and far more impressively,
in the example, as in the precepts of Christ.
Let this mind then be in us, which was
also in our divine Teacher and Saviour.
Let us learn of him, when reviled, never
to revile again, and when suffering, never
to threaten revenge, With the anger
which is excited by an offence, let us feel
grief for the unhappy offender. Let us
pity his disposition, be admonished against
its indulgence, and be ready to exercise
towards him every office of christian be-
nevolence. That no desire of retaliation,
that no sentiment of revenge may rankle
in our hearts, let us seek for him the

i So

pardon and blessing of God. This is one
of the conditions on which we are taught
to hope for the forgiveness of our own
sins. May God enable us to comply with
it ! Putting away wrath and clamour, and
evil speaking, be ye kindly affectioned one
towards another, forbearing and forgiving,
even as ye hope that God, for Christ's
sake, will forgive us. To Him be glory
forever. AMEN !

DISCOURSE VII

REVELATIONS i. 10.
I was in the spirit on the Lord's day.

An acknowledgment of the being and
government of God, and of the depend-
ence and obligations of man, involves
the duty of expressing to our Creator and
Benefactor the homage of our adoration,
our gratitude, and our submission. The
obligation to worship God is indeed as
obvious from the deductions of reason, as
from the requirements of revelation ; and
he is as irrational, as he is impious, by
whom the duty is denied, or wantonly
violated.

It cannot, however, have escaped the
notice of any, who are familiar with the

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scriptures, how important the institution
of the sabbath was regarded by God, and
with what frequency and solemnity the
command to observe it was repeated, under
each of the ancient dispensations. On a
subject so interesting, man was not left to
the guidance of reason alone. Even in
paradise, where he was admitted to the
most intimate communion with God, and
where we may suppose that a considerable
portion of every day was appropriated to
the offices of devotion ; in paradise, where
man was restricted only by one prohibi-
tion, and before his understanding had
become perverted, and his affections de-
praved, God required the consecration of
the sabbath peculiarly to his service. When
he rested on the seventh day of the world,
he blessed, and sanctified it. Under every
economy, it was, perhaps, the most effect-
ual barrier against the idolatry and vice,
by which his people was surrounded ; and
if every encroachment upon it had been
early and resolutely resisted, they would
have escaped innumerable judgments. The

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sabbath was constantly and reverently ob-
served by our Lord ; and though the day
was changed from the seventh, to the first
of the week, in memory of his resurrection,
his faithful disciples, in every succeeding
age, have imitated his example, and de-
voted a seventh portion of their time, to
the peculiar duties and offices of religion.
I cannot suppose that this change was
made by the apostles, unauthorized by
their Master. Many and important com-
munications were made to them after his
resurrection ; and I am persuaded, that
the observance of this day as a sabbath,
was then appointed by Christ. With all
their zeal and boldness, they would not
have dared to make this change, without
an express command. Being the day in
which he rose from the dead, it was called
the Lord's day, the sabbath of christians.
The sabbath of the Jews was instituted to
commemorate the completion of the crea-
tion of the world. The christian sabbath
commemorates an event infinitely more
interesting, the resurrection of the Author

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of our faith. It is the day in which Christ
triumphed over death. How appropriate,
then, is the designation ! With what pious
gratitude should we hail this day, and with
what fidelity consecrate it to the worship
of God !

"I was in the spirit," says St. John, "on
the Lord's day." The expression, "in the
spirit," refers to that state of the mind,
which is produced by the reception of any
extraordinary divine influence. It is sy-
nonymous with the expression of St. Luke
concerning Peter, "he fell into a trance ;"
and perhaps with what Paul says of him-
self, that he "was caught up into the third
heavens." When "in the spirit," he re-
ceived the revelations, which contain the
history of the church to its latest ages ;
and these revelations were made to him
"on the Lord's day." It is with reference
only to the name of the day, that I have
selected the text ; and I could avail myself
of it, to shew our obligations to its observ-
ance ; the objects to which it should be
appropriated ; the benefits of which it may

i85

be productive ; and the causes and conse-
quences of its neglect. These are subjects
of sufficient interest and importance to
demand attention.

i. We should observe this day, because
it wasy^r us that Christ taught, and suf-
fered, and died, and rose from the dead.
We are bound to its observance by motives
as numerous, as our obligations to the
Saviour. And can you number, can you
repay these obligations ? I refer you only
to some of the most prominent, as excite-
ments to keep holy this day of the Lord.

To Christ we are indebted for our
knowledge of God. The world by its own
wisdom, never knew God. Before the
christian era, he was worshipped by no
nation, except the Jews. In ages and
countries the most polished and learned,
scarcely less ignorance prevailed of God
and of his worship, than in the most un-
enlightened times, and the most barbarous
state of society. In the most refined city
of heathen antiquity, the most distin-
guished philosopher and best citizen was
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condemned to suffer death, because he
taught the existence of one God. With-
out a revelation, without the gospel, we
might at this moment have been in equal
ignorance and depravity. Here then is a
motive to the observance of this day ; for
we celebrate his resurrection, who has
taught us what God is, and what is the
service which he requires of his rational
family. — To Christ we are also indebted
for our knowledge of the will of God. I
do not say that all the laws of the gospel
were unknown, till they were promulgated
by the Saviour; but the gospel itself
furnishes abundant evidence, how con-
fused and inadequate were the sentiments
of virtue which prevailed both among Jews
and heathens, at the time of the appearing
of Christ. He separated truth from the
errour with which it was mingled, taught
it in its perfect purity, and enforced it at
once by the most interesting and awful
motives, which were ever proposed to
influence the conduct of man. By all the
benefits and pleasures which result from

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our knowledge of the divine will, we are
therefore bound to celebrate the day of the
resurrection of our Lord. — From him like-
wise have we derived the assurance, that
sin may be forgiven, and that God will
admit the penitent offender to all the
honours and happiness of his kingdom.
He came to bind up the broken hearted,
to preach deliverance to the captives, and
to die the just for the unjust. We can
obtain assurance of the forgiveness of sins,
only from the gospel : It is offered to re-
penting sinners, only through faith in the
blood of Christ. By rising from the dead,
he demonstrated the efficacy of his cross.
And should we not therefore keep holy
the day, distinguished by a triumph so
glorious ? If we are sensible of the guilt
of our sins, and feel the repentance which
Jesus requires, every faculty of our souls
will be engaged, on this day, in rendering
to God the homage which he claims. It is
through Christ also that we have access to
God in prayer ; and to him we are in-
debted for the confidence, with which we

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may approach the throne of the Almighty ;
for the consolation, strength, and joy, of
which this holy intercourse is productive.
We are taught to ask for every blessing in
his name ; to hope for every spiritual good,
through the influence of the grace which
he has brought to the world. What day,
then, can be so interesting to christians, as
that of the resurrection of their Lord ?
What institution is enforced by more pow-
erful motives ?

2. We should observe the christian
sabbath, because it is at once an emblem
of heaven, and a means of its attainment.
Engaged as we are through the week in
the toils of business, and the pursuit of
pleasure, and experiencing all the cares,
and the alternate elevations and depres-
sions of success and of misfortune, what
would be the condition of society, if there
was no season of repose, and of serious
reflection ? On this day we are called to
consider, that this world is not our home ;
that we were created for employments and
for gratifications infinitely higher than

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those to which we are excited by our
senses ; that we are accountable for all our
advantages and our conduct ; and that our
condition in eternity will depend on the
tastes, the affections, and the habits, which
we form in this world. In the employ-
ments of this day, does the faithful dis-
ciple of Christ find his principles of piety
and virtue to acquire new strength, his
hopes to be raised, his erroneous senti-
ments corrected, and his heart and his life
made better. In these employments, and
in the anticipations which they awaken, he
finds that peace which the world cannot
give him ; he feels his capacity of immor-
tal happiness, in the presence of his Re-
deemer and his God. And are not these
sources of obligation to the observance of
this day? If we are christians, we shall
feel these effects of the sabbath ; and if
we feel them, we shall acknowledge the
duty of hallowing the day peculiarly to the
service of God.

But what are the objects to which this

190

day should be appropriated? I will en-
deavour to answer this inquiry.

1. As the sabbath which we observe,
in compliance with the original appoint-
ment of God, consists of a seventh part of
time, it should be devoted to purposes
consistent with the design of God, in
blessing and sanctifying the seventh day.
Most men, during the business of the
week, find but little time for self-examina-
tion, for the study of the scriptures, and
for private devotion ; or if they have
leisure, claim it for indulgence in the
amusements of the world. On the sab-
bath, these duties should obtain peculiar
attention. We should inquire what we
have been doing ; what are the principles
and motives by which we have been actu-
ated ; what are our propensities and de-
sires ; what we have omitted which we
ought to have done ; what is the account
which we must render of the past, and
what are our duties for the future ? It is
designed to be a day of rest from the
ordinary pursuits of life, but not a day of

191

indolence. To commune, as we ought,
with our hearts ; to study the word of God
with the reverence and attention which it
claims, and in secret to confess our sins ;
to seek the divine guidance, to cherish
the gratitude and love which we owe to
God, and to commit ourselves and our
concerns to his care, furnish abundant
occupation for all the hours of this day,
which may be spared from its other duties.
It was a command of God to the Jews,
"from evening to evening shall ye cele-
brate your sabbath;"* and greatly would
it conduce to a suitable observance of the
day, if our sabbaths were always com-
menced on the evening of Saturday. It
would predispose us to meet the day with
the interest and the dispositions which it
should awaken, by divesting our minds of
the calculations and inquietudes of the
week. It would make these employments
sources to us of the highest improvement,
and the purest pleasure.

2. We should hallow this day in our

* Lev. xxiii. 32.

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houses, by the exercises of domestick wor-
ship. Every father should be a priest in
his house. Every house should be a
temple of the living God, from which the
incense of prayer should daily ascend to
heaven. But on the sabbath, there should
be peculiar and distinguishing offices of
domestick piety. We should shew to our
families the reverence which we feel for
the day, by preventing, as far as possible,
all domestick labours ; by dispensing to
them instruction, and enforcing it by our
examples. Let each fill the little sphere
of his own house, by the faithful discharge
of its duties, and blessings of incalculable
worth will result to society. With what
increased zeal and pleasure will the devout
heart engage in the publick worship of
God, which has kindled the holy flame, by
the exercises of social worship at home ?
They prepare us to recognize our relation
to the family of man, and to commend all
to the favour of our common Father. They
have the best influence in qualifying the
mind for that reception of truth, by which

193

its effects will be rendered permanent and
happy.

3. In giving us rest from the common
business of life, the sabbath furnishes to
parents a most favourable season for the
religious instruction of their children. On
this day they meet, with every advantage,
for communicating and receiving knowl-
edge ; and it is our solemn duty to avail
ourselves of this time, to induce them to
that piety and virtue, on which depend the
happiness of this, and of the future life ;
to teach them that there is a God of per-
fect power, benevolence, and holiness ; that
he is always present with us ; that all
things are subject to his providence, and
that he will call all men into judgment.
That he loves truth, and hates iniquity ;
that he sent Jesus to be the instructor of
the ignorant, and the Saviour of sinners ;
that he will always hear our prayers, when
they are offered with sincere hearts ; and
that he is more willing to do us good, than
we are to ask for it. We should warn
them of the deceitfulness of the world, and
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194

of their own hearts, and of the necessity of
constant watchfulness. We should allure
them to a love of holiness, by exhibiting
the joys of heaven ; and deter them from
vice, by representing its terrible conse-
quences in hell. These instructions are
suited to the comprehensions of children
at a very early age. At least, they may be
sufficiently understood, to obtain a power-
ful and most beneficial influence on their
conduct. They are truths which the sab-
bath is adapted to bring to our recollec-
tions with peculiar force, and which pious
parents will not fail of inculcating on their
offspring. How delightful a spectacle is
the domestick circle, in which children
surround their parents, listening with ea-
gerness and delight to the lessons of
wisdom, which are inculcated from the
word of God ! Let them see in our
prayers, in the books which we read, and
in our pious conversation, the genuine
influence of religion, and they will catch
the spirit with which we are actuated, and

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learn of us to glorify our and their Father
in heaven.

4. It was the practice of the primitive
church, to assemble on this day for the
publick worship of God, and to observe
the ordinance of the supper. The com-
munion was then a part of the service of
every sabbath, and every one, who ac-
knowledged the divine mission of Christ,
was a communicant. The disciples met,
not in churches erected for their worship,
but in each other's houses ; and in as-
sembling, were often obliged to observe
the greatest secrecy, that they might avoid
the interruption and persecutions of their
enemies. Yet were these most happy
sabbaths ; for it was then deemed by
christians one of the best of their priv-
ileges, to unite in the worship of God, and
to hear the doctrines and duties of his
word illustrated and enforced. It was, I
apprehend, peculiarly with reference to
the benefits which would result from pub-
lick worship, that the sabbath was insti-
tuted ; but in instituting the publick

196

exposition of the scriptures on this day,
as a part of the duties of the ministers of
his religion, has the interest and impor-
tance of social worship been vastly aug-
mented. " Discourses to the people on
the nature of their duties to their Maker,
their fellow mortals, and themselves, was
an idea too august to be mingled with the
absurd and ridiculous, or profligate and
barbarous rites of paganism " ; * And
although the scriptures were read in the
synagogues of the Jews, discourses, like
those of the apostles, were wholly un-
known. "It is an institution for which
mankind are indebted to Christianity ; in-
troduced by the Founder himself of this
divine religion, and in every point of view
worthy of its high original. Its effects
have been to soften the tempers, and to
purify the morals of mankind ; not in so
high a degree as benevolence could wish,
but enough to call forth the warmest
strains of our gratitude/' It has been one

* Adams's introductory oration on rhetorick and oratory,
PP- 23> 4-

i97

of the most efficient means, I believe that
I may say that it has been the most effect-
ual of all the means which have been
employed, to extend to every class of
society the most important knowledge.
It has the happiest tendency to the re-
straint of vice, and to the encouragement
of piety and virtue. To these publick
services, therefore, should a portion of the
day be devoted ; and they will be con-
scientiously and devoutly observed by
every one, who is interested to promote
the best good of society, and who esti-
mates, as he ought, the importance of the
privilege.

5. St. Paul directed the Corinthian
christians, on the first day of the week, to
lay by them in store, as God had pros-
pered them, that they might contribute to
the necessities of their poor and persecuted
brethren. Offices of charity are appro-
priate to all times ; and they are consid-
ered as of so much importance in the
christian system, that they must be per-
formed, even though they interfere with

198

the other duties of the sabbath. To visit
the sick and the afflicted, to administer to
them the consolations and encouragements
of the gospel, and if they are in want, to
relieve them, not only encourages in them
pious sentiments and affections, but is
productive of the same important effects in
ourselves. One of the earliest writers of
the christian church, says, "the citizens
assemble on the sabbath, and first are read
the scriptures of the prophets and the
apostles. The priest then delivers a dis-
course, in which he exhorts the people to
practise what they have heard. Then all
join in prayer, after which the ordinance of
the supper is administered, and then they
give alms to the poor. This is the manner
of conducting the christian festival."'*
Difference of times, and of the circum-
stances of christians, have brought these
contributions into disuse, as one of the
peculiar duties of the sabbath ; but as we
have opportunity, we should on this day

* Justin Martyr, Apol. 2, in Taylor's Ductor Dubitantium,
p. 364.

i99

dispense to the necessities of others ; and
particularly cherish the benevolent dispo-
sitions, which will impel us, when occasions
offer, to do good unto all.

Even by the politician, whose views are
confined to the order, the improvement
and the comfort of society in this world,
the sabbath is considered as one of the
wisest and most beneficial institutions
which was ever devised. By its slow and
silent operation, it allays the ferment of
those evil passions, which are excited by
the sordid, the selfish, and the sensual
pursuits of mankind ; and even where it is
much neglected, it produces a moral in-
fluence more favourable to human happi-
ness, than could be derived from any laws
or appointments, unaccompanied by a
divine sanction. To the weekly sabbath
are we greatly indebted for the tranquillity
and security in which we live ; for much of
the efficacy of those sentiments, principles
and affections, which are the strongest
cement of the social compact. If it were

200

universally observed as a divine institu-
tion, it would relieve society of many of its
most oppressive burdens, supersede the
necessity of many laws, and be one of the
best means of promoting confidence and
of diffusing happiness through all the
classes of society, and the relations of life.
To the poor, the sabbath is adapted to
be an inestimable blessing. It is a pecu-
liarity of the gospel, that it addresses itself
equally to the poor and to the unknown,
as to the affluent and the honoured. "Go
and tell John/' said our Lord to those who
came to him to inquire if he were the
Messiah, "Go and tell John, that the poor
have the gospel preached to them." This
he addressed to the baptist, as an evidence
of his divine mission ; as an evidence that
he came from Him who is the common
Father of man, and who regardeth not the
rich more than the poor. In the very
beginning of his ministry he proclaimed at
Nazareth, that it was one of the purposes
of his mission, to preach the gospel to the
poor ; to enlighten and to comfort that

201

large portion of society, which had been
despised and disregarded. "Poverty was
considered by the Jews as a punishment
from God;"* and notwithstanding the
numerous requirements of their law to the
exercise of benevolence, " Amos reproaches
the Israelites, with having sold the poor
for a contemptible price, as for shoes and
sandals." * But, neglected as they were,
the poor of Judea were the most privi-
leged of the world ; for to them, every
seventh day was a day of rest. It was the
interest of their teachers to retain them in
ignorance, that they might themselves re-
tain their authority. But Jesus made them
the objects of his peculiar care ; and under
his, and the ministry of the apostles, they
were instructed in all the doctrines and
duties of religion, and excited to piety and
virtue by the most interesting, consolatory,
and powerful motives. In every other
part of the civilized world, the condition of
the poor was inconceivably more deplor-
able. They were immersed in the deepest

* Calmet's Diet. art. Poor and Poverty.

26

202

ignorance, as a means of retaining them as
instruments for accomplishing the designs
of ambition, of avarice, or of pride. The
fame of the refinement and learning of
antiquity is derived, not from a wide diffu-
sion of knowledge over society, but from
the genius and acquirements of a few, who
appear, in comparison, as a different race
of beings. The poor were the slaves of
the most debasing superstition ; and the
very rites of their religion, instead of en-
lightening, involved them in still deeper
darkness ; and in some instances were
adapted to promote their progress in vice
and wretchedness. The doctrines of phil-
osophy were taught to the rich, to the
powerful, and to men who were capable,
by their talents, of commanding influence
in society ; but the design of raising the
poor from their depressed condition, by
diffusing knowledge among them, and by
inculcating principles and motives adapted
to secure their virtue, never entered the
minds of their most distinguished sages ;
or if for a moment suggested, was deemed

203

an enterprise too bold to be attempted.
It was left for the son of God to rescue
this vast portion of mankind from their
degradation and misery ; and one of the
most important means of effecting this
most benevolent, this sublime object, was
the institution of the services of the sab-
bath. Under the christian dispensation,
the poorest and most ignorant of the
Gentile world were invited to receive the
same instructions, which were dispensed
to the rich and the learned. They were
taught to appropriate a seventh portion of
their time exclusively to the attainment of
a knowledge of the gospel.

They were instructed that, equally as
their superiours, they were the children of
God, accountable for their conduct, and
capable of attaining immortal happiness.
Where Christianity is unknown, the con-
dition of the poor is at this day the most
distressing which can be imagined ; and
even in christian countries their sufferings
are augmented, in proportion to their
neglect of the institution of the sabbath.

204

Considering then this single effect of the
observance of this day, is it not worthy of
divine appointment, and of our warmest
gratitude ? May I not say, wherever the
benign influence of the gospel has ex-
tended, that it has doubled the number of
rational beings, by restoring to half of
mankind the reason they had lost, and the
rank and privileges to which they are
entitled, as accountable and immortal be-
ings ? Without the gospel, without the
opportunities and services of this day,
many of us would have been, at this
moment, in the lowest mental and moral
debasement ; and shall we not then keep
holy to God the season to which we are
so essentially indebted for our most val-
uable blessings ?

2. A proper observance of the sabbath
is adapted to have the happiest influence
on domestick life. The business of the
world separates men from their families ;
absorbs, for most of every day, their cares
and affections ; and has a direct tendency
to excite and to cherish the social and un-

205

social passions of avarice, of envy, and
jealousy. On the sabbath, the common
labours of life are suspended, and leisure
is allowed for a day at home. On this day,
unincumbered by other cares, may fathers
and mothers unite their exertions in the
cultivation of the minds and hearts of their
children ; and by exercising together the
offices of piety, elevate, and strengthen,
and refine the flame of their affection. The
family, in which, for six days of the week,
the cares and passions of the world have
been indulged, in the sabbath may find a
season of peace ; a few hours for undis-
turbed meditation ; for secret and for social
prayer ; for a review of life, and for the
indulgence of plans and hopes, the objects
of which are far without the limits of this
life. Conceive of a family, on the evening
preceding the sabbath, retiring from their
labours, divesting their minds of the cal-
culations and inquietudes of the world,
and assembling in the full exercise of the
pious and benevolent affections, which the
gospel inculcates. How well adapted are

206

all their intercourses and employments, to
the security of the best happiness of man !
On this day the dispositions are corrected,
in which originate the contentions and
miseries of domestick life. All the amiable
and endearing qualities of the temper are
cherished, and the principles and habits
which give energy and worth to the char-
acter, are strengthened. To the influence
of the christian sabbath are we much in-
debted for the delightful associations,
which we attach to the idea of home ; for
the virtues which peculiarly constitute the
happiness of domestick life. Faithfully
discharge its duties, my brethren, and you
will find it one of the most effectual means
of promoting union, order, and affection in
your houses ; of exciting in your children
sentiments of piety and virtue ; and of
securing to you, in your own homes, a
refuge from the disappointments, the per-
plexities, and the vices of the world.

3. It is an immediate effect of the
sabbath to harmonize the discordant mate-
rials of which society is composed. It

207

brings together many, who could never
have been united from inclination, and
awakens in their breasts a mutual interest.
We meet on this day, not to indulge our
selfish views and pursuits, but to rejoice
in each other's welfare, and to sympathize
in each other's sufferings. We meet, not
as men of business, whose plans are liable
to interference, and in whom a similarity
of occupations and views awakens suspi-
cion and distrust ; but as the children of
the same Father, seeking an interest in
the grace which is abundant for all ; and
whose success, instead of being retarded,
will be most essentially advanced, by all
the assistance which we can render to each
other. To this cause, perhaps, more than
to any other, are we to attribute, that sen-
sibility to the wants of others, and those
enlarged principles of benevolence, which
distinguish modern from ancient times,
and christian countries from those, which
are unenlightened by revelation. The
spirit of the gospel is love ; and the dis-
ciples of Christ meet on this day to worship

208

that Being, who is essential love. They
meet as brethren. In this relation the
rich and the poor, the wise and the ignor-
ant, the honoured and the despised, stand
together before God. They meet to hum-
ble themselves together before Him, who is
no respecter of persons ; they acknowledge
together their sins, their dependence, and
their wants. Could any other means be
devised, so well adapted to excite in man
a widely extended sympathy, to animate
him in the discharge of every relative duty,
and to secure to him the most permanent
possession of every social pleasure.

4. To the sabbath are we much in-
debted for our knowledge of the principles
of religion, and for their efficacy upon our
conduct. Very many of those who are
best acquainted with the gospel, will not
hesitate to avow their obligations, for the
leisure which this day affords to them, and
for the excitements which they have re-
ceived in the house of God, to the study
of his word. In the multiplicity and va-
riety of our ordinary pursuits, how rarely

209

do we find, that we have time or inclination
to think seriously of God, of our duties, of
heaven and of judgment ? It may even be
questioned, if the sabbath were abolished,
whether nine-tenths of the christian world,
after two or three generations, would not
become wholly ignorant or regardless of
moral truth. It is to the secret, but most
salutary influence of this day, that we are
to attribute much of the virtue on which
we are accustomed to rely, in our inter-
courses with mankind. It is a season in
which, if we have any sensibility, we shall
feel repentance, and form pious resolu-
tions. Once in the week at least, it pre-
pares us to go into the world, in some
measure disposed and enabled to resist its
temptations. — Once in the week, at least,
do thousands hear the scriptures, to whose
minds they would otherwise have no ac-
cess ; and they are arrested by rebukes, by
warnings or encouragements, which force
them to feel, that they were not created
only for this world. To those who are
disposed wisely to improve it, it is a season
27

2IO

most favourable to accessions of religious
knowledge, and to the advancement of
habits of piety and virtue ; and I believe
that I may appeal to the experience of
many to confirm the assertion, that in its
proper observance is one of the best se-
curities of the order, the success, and the
pleasures of the week.

But why should I attempt to enumerate
the benefits of the christian sabbath? No
conception of its importance can be formed
by those who do not observe it ; and they
who keep it holy to the Lord, derive from
it advantages and gratifications, which can-
not be expressed. To them, it is a refuge
from the storms of the world; a shadow
from its oppressive heat. They hail its
arrival ; they enjoy every moment of its
progress ; and derive from its duties a
cheerfulness and elevation, which results
from none of the common pursuits and
indulgences of life. It is an emblem of
the rest of heaven. If we hallow it in our
hearts, in our houses, and in the church ;
if we faithfully appropriate it to its proper

211

services, these will be its effects ; and by
these influences shall we have conviction,
that its services are acceptable to God.

That this day is greatly disregarded,
both in the domestick and publick duties
which it involves, is one of the most
obvious of the facts which arrests our
notice, in a moral survey of society. The
causes and consequences of this neglect
demand our attention ; for in proportion
as it can be obviated, we aid in staying
the current of vice and misery, and in pro-
moting the virtue and best happiness of
man. With all the seriousness which the
subject claims, I propose then the inquiry,
why are the privileges of this day so little
estimated, and its most important duties
so frequently violated ?

The cause, my brethren, which is the
most obvious, of the neglect of the obliga-
tions of the sabbath, is an excessive love
of the world, and an inordinate devotion
to its interests. For six days, in succes-
sion, we are permitted to labour ; and to
accumulate, as far as we may by honest

212

industry, the riches of the world. — During
this time, little relaxation is allowed from
the ardour of pursuit. We commence our
toils. Care immediately presses upon care,
and calculation succeeds to calculation.
Every hour is deemed important, and is
most faithfully appropriated to the objects
of our affections and our hopes. We close
the day, exhausted with its labours ; and
full of the anticipation of purposes yet to
be accomplished, we seek the refreshment
of sleep. In the morning, when we are
best prepared for the exercises of devotion,
the mind is so much absorbed by its anti-
cipations and its plans, that the obligations
of piety are wholly forgotten ; and the
mind which, through the day, has not been
raised above the earth, and which sympa-
thises with the fatigue and enervation of
the body, will not be disposed, at evening
to engage in those exercises, which force
us to a comparison of our conduct with
our duties and of the riches of this world
with the treasures of heaven. In this con-
dition, the sabbath overtakes us ; and we

213

welcome it, perhaps, as a day of rest. But
though actual labour is suspended, the
thoughts and affections flow on in their
accustomed channels, nor can they easily
be diverted from their course. Hence it
is that many waste the morning of this day
in sleep ; that the religious instruction of
children, for which this time furnishes an
opportunity the most favourable, is so
much neglected ; and the publick worship
of God is treated with so much indiffer-
ence. Hence it is that the conversation
of men on the sabbath is confined, almost
as exclusively to the business of the world,
as if this were the purpose for which we
assembled. My brethren, these things
ought not so to be. A few moments of
every morning and evening, devoted to
secret and to domestick prayer, and an
hour occasionally given to the reading of
the scriptures, and to familiar conversation
on religious subjects, would occasion no
material deduction, even from the pe-
cuniary profits of a day, nor would they
interfere with any rational pleasure ; and

214

they would prepare us to meet the sabbath
as a day to be consecrated to God, and
conducive at once to the greatest benefits,
and the richest enjoyment. We cannot, at
the same time, serve God and Mammon ;
and if all our thoughts and our solicitude
through the week are confined to the pos-
sessions and pleasures of this world, the
sabbath will be a day of weariness and of
pain, which we shall be easily induced to
squander in indolence, or to profane in
vice. There is indeed no necessary in-
terference between the ordinary business
of life, and the duties of religion ; but to
derive pleasure or advantage from the ser-
vice of God, we must love him supremely;
and if we thus love him, we shall be ready
to make any sacrifices for the enjoyment
of his service. We shall permit no care
or pursuit to prevent our observance of
his requirements. We shall shew forth
his loving kindness every morning, and his
faithfulness every night ; and hallow his
sabbath as a pledge of the rest which re-
mains for his people in heaven.

215

But the cause to which the neglect of
this day is principally to be attributed, is
the want of religion in our hearts ; our in-
sensibility of the obligations which we owe
to Christ, whose triumph over death we
this day celebrate ; our inconsideration of
our sins, of the authority of his commands,
the worth of his promises, and the terror
of his denunciations. If we feel the re-
pentance, the gratitude, the love of God
and of man which his gospel inculcates,
the hunger and thirst for increasing right-
eousness which it is adapted to excite, and
the spirit of devotion which it awakens in
its sincere believers ; if we were interested
to know and to perform the will of God, as
we are interested in the pleasures and
business of the world, no duty of the day
would be wantonly disregarded. It is to
this inconsideration, this insensibility of
the power and excellence of religion, that
we are to attribute the dominion of those
sensual and selfish passions, which attach
us to the world, and indispose us to the
offices of piety. I do not say that an

2l6

observance of the publick services of the
sabbath is a certain evidence of piety in
the heart ; but I believe that it will be
difficult to find exceptions to the remark,
that they who disregard the publick wor-
ship of this day, are equally regardless
of religion in their families, and inatten-
tive to its requirements in their own lives.
We do not therefore form our judgments
precipitately, nor violate the law of charity,
when we accuse him of practical infidelity,
and of a heart which resists the impressions
of divine truth, who easily excuses the
neglect of the duties of this day, or ob-
serves its publick rites with thoughtless
indifference. To this insensibility, this
want of religion in the heart, are all the
other causes of the neglect of the sabbath
to be ascribed ; and the evil can be rem-
edied by no other means, than the purifi-
cation of the source in which it originates.
When we feel the genuine influence of
religion, no persuasions will be necessary
to bring us to the house of God. If we
love Him who died, and rose, and lives to

217

save us, we shall keep holy the day of his
resurrection. The effect is inseparable
from the cause. If we love Christ, we
shall be excited by our love to habitual
exertions to keep all his commandments.

The consequences of the neglect of the
sabbath are most solemn and affecting, nor
does it require much penetration to discern
them. Would to God that a recurrence
to them might admonish us of our dangers.

The first effect which we notice, is an
increasing disregard of moral and religious
restraints. A man does not wantonly
neglect the sabbath, till he has become
insensible, to a considerable degree, of the
influence of religious principles ; and when,
in consequence of this insensibility, he
disregards the services of this day, his
progress in evil will be daily accelerated.
Every one who has ever improved this day
to the purposes for which it was instituted,
has occasionally at least felt its restraints
in the conduct of the week. The princi-
ples which were then impressed on his
mind have recurred with so much force,
28

218

that he has been strengthened to success-
ful resistance, where he would otherwise
have been overcome, and to greater fidelity
in the discharge of every duty. But when
we have learned to dispense with one
acknowledged obligation, every other is
violated with greater ease ; for we cannot
habitually violate one, till we have lost that
reverence of the authority of God, which
is the only security of virtue. When we
have ceased to feel any interest in the
worship of God, we shall derive no pleas-
urable emotions from a remembrance of his
presence, and of his commands ; we shall
feel no disposition to refer to our account-
ability, and to the sanctions of his law. Of
this consequence of a violation of the
sabbath, there are many examples ; and
they exhibit to the young most solemn
warnings, against a practice, which is
fraught with so much evil. It increases
the hardness of the heart, emboldens to
the commission of vice, and separates us
farther from God. From a wanton neglect
of this day, to a profanation of it, and from

219

a profanation of it to a rejection of every
religious restraint, the transition is so easy,
that we may generally venture to predict
of him, in whom the return of the sabbath
awakens no religious sentiments, and who
feels no remorse in appropriating it to the
pursuits of business, or of worldly pleasure,
that he is not far from the lowest state of
moral debasement ; a condition of ultimate,
and unutterable misery.

The abuse of the sabbath has a direct
tendency to promote domestick disunion
and wretchedness. In their private and
family worship, in their study of the word
of God, in their religious education of
their children, and in the publick services
of the day, do the pious experience a sweet
serenity of mind, most delightful exercises
of their understandings and affections, and
the most earnest desires to love God more,
and to serve him better. The evil dis-
positions and passions in which this abuse
originates, are in themselves sources of
misery. In the families in which the sab-
bath is neglected and profaned, low and

220

selfish and sordid motives obtain ascend-
ancy ; and every contrariety of feeling,
every difference of opinion, every trivial
disappointment, produces petulance, and
perhaps contention ; and where there is
domestick contention, there is confusion
and every evil work.

3. The profanation of the sabbath is
peculiarly fatal in its influence on the
minds and conduct of children. Reared
from their infancy in the disregard of the
word and ordinances of God, their hearts
acquire an obduracy, which resists all the
impressions of religion. In the dying
confessions of those, whose lives have been
forfeited by the laws of society, their early
habits of vice have been attributed, prin-
cipally, to an early neglect and abuse of
the sabbath. What an affecting admoni-
tion is this to all who are parents ? By
permitting our children to grow vile, with-
out imposing on them the restraints, and
exciting them by the encouragements of
religion, we become instrumental of their
abandonment to evil, and of their final

221

misery. Thousands, who might have been
the ornaments and blessings of society, by
parental neglect have become lost to
virtue, and the bane of their generation ;
have passed a corrupted and a miserable
existence, and have died without accom-
plishing one purpose of their being.

Let these consequences of its abuse
operate as motives to keep holy this day
of the Lord. A time will arrive, when we
must account for the use which we have
made of all our opportunities of religious
instruction. May God enable us so to
improve these seasons, that we may render
our account of them with joy ! There
remaineth a rest, an eternal sabbath, for
the people of God. Happy, infinitely
happy are they, who are admitted to its
employments and its joys. May God make
them our happy portion, through Jesus
Christ, to whom be glory forever. AMEN.

FINIS.

List of the Members

"THE SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN
KNOWLEDGE, PIETY, AND CHARITY,"

By whom the Christian Monitor is published.

MAY, 1811.

John L. Abbot, A. M.
Rev. Isaac Allen,

Joseph Allen, esq.
Mr. Samuel Allen,
Rev. John Allyn,
Rev. John Andrews,
Rev. Aaron Bancroft, D. D.
Rev. Thomas Barnard, D. D.
Mr. Edward Blake,
Rev. John Bradford,

Alden Bradford, esq.

Samuel Bradford, esq.
Mr. Andrew Brimmer,
Rev. Joseph S. Buckminster,

John Callender, esq.
Rev. Samuel Cary,
Mr. Samuel Chandler,

Elisha Clap, A. M.
Rev. Pitt Clark,
Rev. Samuel Clark,
Rev. Henry Colman,
Mr. Joseph Coolidge, jun.
Rev. Henry Cumings, D. D.
Mr. Josiah Davis,
Rev. John Eliot, D. D.
* Rev. William Emerson,
Hon. Oliver Fiske,
Rev. John Fiske,
Rev. Jacob Flint,
Rev. Edmund Foster,

Cambridge.

Bolton.

Worcester.

do.
Duxboro'.
Newburyport.
Worcester.
Salem.
Boston.
Roxbury.
Wiscasset.
Boston.

do.

do.

do.

do.
Worcester.
Boston.
Norton.

Burlington, Ver.
Hingham.
Boston.
Billerica.
Concord.
Boston.

do.
Worcester.
Newbraintree.
Cohasset.
Littleton.

Rev. John Foster,

Rev. Joel Foster,

Mr. David Francis,

His Honour William Gray,

Rev. Thomas Gray,

Rev. Thaddeus M. Harris,

Benjamin Hay ward, esq.
Rev. Horace Holley,
Dr. Isaac Hurd,
Mr. Francis Jarvis,

Phinehas Johnson, esq.
Rev. Samuel Kendall, D. D.
Rev. President Kirkland,
Rev. John Lathrop, D. D.
Mr. Phinehas Lawrence,
Rev. Joseph McKean,

Tilly Merrick, esq.
Deacon James Morrill,

Andrews Norton, A. M.
Rev. Asa Packard,
Rev. Hezekiah Packard,
Hon. Isaac Parker, esq.
Mr. Samuel H. Parker,

Francis Parkman, A. M.
Rev. John Pierce,
Rev. John Pipon,
Rev. John S. Popkin,
Rev. Eliphalet Porter, D. D.
Rev. Enoch Pratt,

Ebenezer Preble, esq.
Rev. John Prince, LL. D.
Rev. John Reed, D. D.
Rev. Ezra Ripley,
Rev. Samuel Ripley,

Samuel Sewall, A. M.
Rev. John Simkins,
Rev. Isaac Smith,

Brighton.
Sudbury.
Boston.

do.
Roxbury
Dorchester.
Worcester.
Boston.
Concord.

do.
Hampden, Me.
Weston.
Cambridge.
Boston.
Lexington.
Cambridge.
Concord.
Boston.
Cambridge.
Marlborough.
Wiscasset.
Boston.

do.

do.
Brookline.
Taunton.
Newbury.
Roxbury.
Barnstable.
Boston.
Salem.
Bridgewater.
Concord.
Waltham.
Cambridge.
Brewster.
Boston.

Mr. Gideon Snow,

Boston.

Rev. Micah Stone,

Brookfield.

William Sullivan, esq.

Boston.

Rev. Joseph Sumner,

Shrewsbury.

Rev. Seth F. Swift,

Nantucket.

Rev. Thomas Thacher,

Dedham.

Rev. Samuel C. Thacher,

Boston.

Rev. Nathaniel Thayer,

Lancaster.

Rev. Andrew E. Thayer,

Luzern, Pennsyl.

Rev. Joseph Thaxter,

Edgarton.

Isaiah Thomas, esq.

Worcester.

Mr. John Thoreau,

Concord.

Mrs. Rebecca Thoreau,

do.

Mr. James Thwing,

Boston.

Mrs. Sarah Thwing,

do.

David Tilden, esq.

do.

Mrs. Sarah Tilden,

do.

Mr. Samuel Torrey,

do.

Rev. Joseph Tuckerman,

Chelsea.

Mr. John Vose,

Concord.

Mr. David Vose,

do.

Daniel Waldo, jun. esq.

Worcester.

Rev. Henry Ware, D. D.

Cambridge.

* Rev. Samuel West, D. D.

Boston.

Theophilus Wheeler, esq.

Worcester.

Deacon John White,

Concord.

Rev. Peter Whitney, jun.

Quincy.

Rev. Nicholas B. Whitney,

Hingham.

Rev. Samuel Willard,

Greenfield.

Deacon Jacob Williams,

Burlington, Ver.

Mrs. Mary Williams,

Boston.

Rev. Ezra Witter,

Wilbraham.

HONOURARY

MEMBERS.

Rev. Dr. Buckminster,

Portsmouth, N. Hamp.

Rev. Dr. Lee,

Lisbon, Connecticut.

Rev. Mr. Leonard,

Canterbury, Connecticut

Rev. President Saunders,

Middlebury, Vermont.

* Deceased.

SERMON

DELIVERED

THE ORDINATION

i

OF

THE REV. SAMUEL GILMAN.

A

SERMON,

DELIVERED

AT

THE ORDINATION

OF

THE REV. SAMUEL GILMAN,

TO THE

PASTORAL CARE

OF THE

Second Independent Church in Charleston,
Dec. i st, 1 8 19.

BY JOSEPH TUCKERMAN,

MINISTER OF THE CHUKCII IN CHELSEA, (MAB8.)

CHARLESTON, (S. C.)

A. E. MILLER, PRINTER.

Queen-Street.

SERMON.

WE ARE AMBASSADORS FOR CHRIST, AS THOUGH
GOD DID BESEECH YOU BY US.

2 Cor. v. 20.

i\N ambassador is the representative of
his sovereign. Christ, as the Ambassador
of God, was the representative of God.
Commissioned immediately by the Al-
mighty Sovereign, — of whose glory he was
a partaker before the world was, — he was
peculiarly, God with man. The Apostles,
immediately commissioned by our Lord,
and invested by him with peculiar powers,
were, peculiarly, Christ with men. They
were his representatives. They executed
his will. And in calling men to repent-
ance, and to the piety and virtue of the

230

gospel, it is their peculiar language, we
pray you, in Christ's stead. On christian
ministers also, who have entered into the
labours of the Apostles, devolve the sol-
emn duties of ambassadors for Christ.
Our office, therefore, includes all that is
most interesting and important, which
may be attempted for human improvement
and happiness ; all that concerns man as
an accountable, and immortal being.

Our peculiar relation, both to Christ and
to men, is most forcibly expressed in the
text. We enter upon the ministry, not
indeed as Apostles, peculiarly designated
to the office, but from choice of the ser-
vice ; from zealous attachment to his
cause ; from humble and pure desires to
be dispensers of his word, and labourers
together with him for the salvation of man.
In Christ's stead, we teach the doctrines
of his religion ; inculcate its duties ; and
attempt to give impression, and effect, to
its promises and threatenings. The num-
ber is comparatively small of those, who

231

are disposed to think for themselves upon
the subjects, most important as well to
their present, as to their future happiness ;
and the preachers of the gospel, to a con-
siderable extent at least, form the religious
sentiments, the motives and morals of
those, with whom they are immediately
connected. Between ourselves, and the
first ambassadors of our Lord, there is
indeed the difference, — never to be for-
gotten,— that under the immediate and
supernatural guidance of him by whom
they were commissioned, in doctrine and
in precept they could not err. But suc-
ceeding to their stations and their duties
as preachers of his religion, with apostolic
simplicity and fidelity we are to impart,
according to what we have received. We
are separated from the ordinary labours of
the world, and by the most solemn acts
are consecrated to God and to Christ, for
the public services of the church, for the
various offices and duties of pastoral
care, and for the advancement of all
the great purposes of the gospel. The

232

influence, therefore, exerted by ministers
of Christ, is necessarily great. Our office,
therefore, we likewise consider as greatly
important. Happy will be that labourer
in the cause of our Divine Master, who
feels at once this relation, and these obli-
gations, to him, and to men ; and who, in
the hour of his final account, will be ac-
cepted as an honorable representative of
his Saviour and Lord ; a faithful mes-
senger of his grace and truth.

To the influence and importance of the
christian ministry, let me then direct your
attention.

The influence of our ministry, what
should it be ? What are our just claims
upon society ?

The time has been, — but blessed be God
it has gone by, — when the answer to these
inquiries would have comprehended, not
only all that private ambition or avarice
could demand, but all that the most unre-
strained despotism could possess. Happily

233

for us, civil and religious rights are now
better understood. At least, in our own
favoured country, every man knows that
he may elect for himself the place, and the
mode of his worship ; that he is amenable
for his faith to no human tribunal ; and
that he may follow the guidance of his
own conscience, without fear of opposition,
while he does not interfere with the con-
science, and the rights of others. In ad-
dressing you then upon the influence of
our ministry, think not that we wish to
revive an obsolete doctrine ; to assert an
antiquated, and long repressed authority.
We believe that our Master has given us
no claims, which do not grow out of the
services we perform, as his servants, for
those to whom we minister. We believe
that God has entrusted His word to all
who have received it ; and that, as it is the
duty of every one to examine for himself,
every one has equally a right, according to
the light that God shall give him, to
interpret the Scriptures for himself. In
preaching His word, therefore, and in the

3°

234

services of our office, the only influence
we may ask, or that should be granted to
us, is that which all, of unprejudiced and
honest minds, will admit should be given
to truth ; to our labours in the great cause
of christian piety and virtue ; to faithful
endeavours to enlighten, to reform, and to
save those, who are committed to our
charge. It is the influence due to our
characters, and to our exertions, in our
office ; to the christian spirit by which we
are actuated, and which we endeavour to
extend to those, to whom our ministry
may be extended. Beyond these limits,
and independent of these means, we desire
no authority. But even when thus re-
stricted, is the influence of a faithful min-
ister inconsiderable ? Let me but refer
you to some of the most frequently re-
curring of his services.

And, first, on the morning of the sab-
bath, cast your eye over the christian
world. What a change has the return of
this day produced in the thoughts and

235

feelings, the cares and pursuits, the hopes
and fears, of at least a great portion of
those who believe the gospel ? Engaged
through the week, many in the exclusive
pursuit of business or of pleasure, and all
too much inclined, through the deceitful-
ness of riches, or the lust of other things,
to forget God and duty, their constant
exposure to death, their responsibility and
immortality ; all more or less infected with
the contagion of the air they have breathed,
in the scenes and occupations in which
they have sought the happiness of the
passing hour ; all partaking, though in
very different degrees, of the spirit of the
world, in whose labours, and calculations,
and hopes, and solicitudes, they have im-
mersed themselves ; what would be our
condition as moral beings, if we were not
arrested by this day ? if we had not this
breathing time in the rapid journey we are
pursuing; this hour for self-inspection, for
serious remembrance and anticipation ?
But for the weekly sabbath, how many
would soon lose all recollection that they

236

have a spiritual and immortal nature ?
How many, whom this day recalls to the
most solemn exercises, would soon become
cold, and earthly, and selfish, and sensual ?
But important as are its private and do-
mestic services, what would be our sab-
baths, without our churches ? The public
exercises of the house of God bring to-
gether the thoughtless, the gay and dissi-
pated, who are ever looking without
themselves, and within the narrow limits
of the present day, or week, or month, for
all which they call enjoyment, — with the
sedate, the reflecting, and the pious, who,
whether in retirement, or in the bustle of
life, are living for eternity ; the mere
worldling, whose only care is for his im-
mediate gains, with the most devout,
whose treasure and heart are in heaven.
It is the high object, and the solemn busi-
ness of a minister of Christ, on this day,
to lead the thoughts, the cares, and the
devotions of all, to heaven. He stands
between his fellow men and their Maker.
He has come from the highest exercise of

237

his mind and heart on the great subjects
to which he is to excite attention, and from
secret communion with God, to direct
their prayers ; to express their adoration
of the Creator and Governor of the Uni-
verse ; to cherish the sentiment and feeling
that we have all one Father, are all invited
to seek life eternal through one Saviour,
and that we should likewise have one Hope ;
to offer their united acknowledgements of
dependence and gratitude, their penitential
confessions, and their supplications for the
divine mercy. He dispenses to many those
scriptures, which they will not read for
themselves; and which from their situa-
tions and employments, they could scarcely
hear but from his lips. He illustrates and
displays, in their power and glory, the
doctrines of the gospel ; explains and
inculcates its precepts ; and summons all
the contending passions and interests of
men to that tribunal, at which we are all at
last to be judged. He brings Christ before
those who hear him, in all the divine
authority with which he was invested by

238

the Father who sent him ; in all the offices
of divine love and mercy, in which he is
confirming his true disciples, and calling
upon all sinners to repent, and to be
reconciled to God. He shows them the
utter worthlessness of all possessions and
honors, compared with an interest in the
salvation that is in Jesus ; and he exhibits
Christ crucified, — however to the Jews a
stumbling block, and to the Greeks fool-
ishness,— to them that are saved, the wis-
dom and the power of God. By baptism,
he initiates the children of believers into
the visible church ; and by this act, at the
same time, consecrates the parental affec-
tions,— the strongest of our nature, — to
God their inspirer ; to God our common
parent. He distributes the emblems of
the body and blood of Christ, in partaking
of which we acknowledge ourselves to be
one body in Christ ; members one of
another ; and heirs together of the same
inheritance, if we are indeed his disciples.
What sources of mutual interest and at-
tachment are these? What sources of

239

influence to a christian minister? How
many owe their strongest impressions of
religion to these services ; feel their bene-
ficial effects through the week ; have their
doubts resolved, their fears dispelled, their
hopes awakened, and their sorrows con-
soled ! How many have thus been brought
from the death of sin, to true repentance;
renewed in the spirit of their mind, and
made holy to God ! How many have thus
been advanced in their christian course- —
their progress towards heaven ! In the
public exercises of the sabbath, see how
many circumstances combine to excite, to
exercise and to strengthen the love which
binds together a faithful christian minister,
and the people of his charge.

Again, a christian minister, if his char-
acter is what it should be, in mingling with
the people of his care, even when he has
not directly in view the performance of
official duties, is at once a bond of union
by which they are holden together, and by
which each is attached more strongly than

240

he would otherwise be, to the objects that
demand his highest, his eternal concern.
The associations that are thus formed, and
of which the heart should never be di-
vested, with the character and objects of a
faithful and beloved pastor, are most favor-
able to christian union, and to the ad-
vancement of christian piety and virtue.
In his affections ; his candour and benev-
olence ; his meek and unostentatious de-
portment ; and his conversation, often on
subjects most closely connected with the
eternal welfare of man, and always con-
sistent with the principles of religion, they
see an image of the master whom he
serves ; a living illustration of the gospel
which he preaches. So should a christian
.minister deport himself, even in his or-
dinary intercourse. And can you not con-
ceive of the love that must glow in his
heart, when he quits the labours of his
retired hours, in which he has been em-
ployed in your service, — or rather, in the
service of his master for your greatest
happiness, — to seek the relaxation of his

241

mind, in affectionate intercourse with the
families, to whose best good he has been
devoting his thoughts, his reading, his pen,
and his prayers ? And he anticipates, and
receives a correspondent affection. — He
anticipates it with peculiar confidence from
some. But he receives it also from many,
who give scarcely any other indication of
their respect for religion. And his is a
friendship unmixed with sordid and selfish
motives. It flows from the peculiar prin-
ciples and objects of the relation he sustains
to them, as a spiritual pastor and guide ;
from the close, — may I not say eternal —
union of their most important interests.
If his character then comports with his
office, must not even his most common
and familiar intercourse, by attaching the
people of his charge to himself, attach them
also more strongly to each other? Must
it not maintain in life and in action the
sentiments and affections, which should
peculiarly form and characterize the dis-
ciples of Christ ? I need not say how
precious, to a christian minister, is the
31

242

friendship thus contracted. It is inesti-
mable. But is it not obvious, how great
is the influence thus acquired and exerted
by a faithful servant of our Lord ?

But not only does a christian minister
exert this indirect, but most salutary in-
fluence. In the society that has chosen
him, he is not alone to inculcate principles,
but carefully to watch their operation. He
is in private to perform the duties of a
christian friend, where another would not
perhaps think himself obliged to interfere ;
or through fear that the service might be
unkindly received, might shrink from an
office sometimes demanding the best exer-
cise of the judgment, and not always grate-
fully acknowledged, even when performed
with the best intentions. In the ordinary
friendships and connexions of the world,
men generally look to the immediate, or at
best to the temporary advantages and suf-
ferings, that may result from efforts and
sacrifices required of them by duty. — Not
so is it with a faithful minister of Jesus.

243

He would lead the steps of all into the
path of life eternal. Often therefore with
secrecy, but with fidelity, he is a monitor
of the young ; an adviser of the unwary.
He is employed in checking vice and en-
couraging virtue, in their beginnings ; and
teaching those who are under his care, to
associate their first and strongest desires
with the prospects and promises of the
gospel. And will not they, whom his
warnings have saved from many evils,
whom his excitements have animated to
duty, and enriched with the best satis-
factions of man, return the love that is
claimed by this well timed friendship ?
It is also his duty to admonish and to
strive with, hardened offenders. And even
where he is not successful, great becomes
his interest in them ; and not unfrequently,
strange as it may seem, scarcely less is
their respect for, and their attachment to,
himself. As a spiritual father among your
little children, how many likewise are his
means of forming them to the most im-
portant knowledge ; to piety and virtue ;

244

to present and future happiness ? In the
children who grow up under his ministerial
cam, he sees the future members and
pillars of the church of Christ. And shall
he not, — will he not, — have in return their
filial love? But particularly will he feel
himself to be bound to those, who have
bound themselves to God by the obliga-
tions of the gospel. He will spare no
labour, he will excuse himself from no
service, by which he may strengthen their
christian union, and promote their christian
progress. — I will only ask, is not the in-
fluence thus obtained and exerted as salu-
tary, as it is great and extensive ?

Nor are these the only bonds that con-
nect a christian minister with the people
of his charge. Let me refer you to scenes
and exercises, in which every heart is most
susceptible. Let me carry you to the
chambers of sickness, and to the house of
mourning. It is not the least important of
the duties, — let me add, it is not the least
valuable of the privileges, — of a faithful
christian minister, to be the bearer of the

245

instructions and consolations of the gospel
to those, who are suffering under the
various trials of life. I would not indeed
attach an undue importance to impressions,
made upon the heart in the hour of afflic-
tion. They are too often the impressions
only of fear, and last no longer than the
passion that excited them. But they are
sometimes permanent, and valuable even
as our immortal hopes. Who has not, in
seasons of sickness, and mourning, felt his
need of a teacher or friend, to whom he
could open his heart ; express his con-
victions, his doubts, his anxieties, and his
hopes ? And how many have sought, or
have found without seeking, this friend, in
the minister of Christ whom he peculiarly
called his own ? Yes, if disease visits, or
if death enters your dwelling, you expect,
and you receive, through your chosen
pastor, the supports and consolations of
religion. And then, if ever, is the heart
peculiarly open to the admission, and the
communication of love. Often too, on the
bed of sickness, the sleeping conscience

246

awakes ; the seared conscience becomes
susceptible ; the heart that has burned
with revenge, is disposed to pardon ; the
injurer desires forgiveness ; the mere
worldling feels the worth of the treasures
of heaven ; and he who has lived most
without God, begins to pray, or asks the
prayers of those, whose intercessions, he
hopes, may be more availing than his own.
And how many, in the loss of beloved
friends, have felt as they never have be-
fore, the importance of immediate prepara-
tion for their own departure? In the
offices to which a christian minister is
called by the afflictions of those who are
immediately under his care, how many
circumstances are there to excite the high-
est mutual interest, and to give him in-
fluence in their hearts ! But when he
visits the truly pious, in their days of
disease or mourning, — when he sits or
prays by the dying bed of those whose
departing spirits he may follow with con-
fidence to a better world, how do all the
hopes of that world bind together the

247

hearts of those, who thus mingle their
sympathies and their devotions ? It is
impossible that, from these circumstances,
great influence should not be derived to a
devoted minister of Christ.

Finally, what that is peculiarly interest-
ing and important, is comprehended in, or
associated with, any of the most endearing
relations of this world, which does not
belong also to the relation between a truly
christian minister, and the people of his
charge ? Even their temporal prosperity
and adversity, joys and sorrows, are essen-
tially his own ; and the facility and comfort
with which he is enabled to live, to provide
for his family, and to give himself to the
objects of his office, are among the chosen
and happy objects of their attention and
care. But in the performance as well of
his daily duties, as of those of the sabbath
and the house of God, the infinitely higher
concerns of eternity become peculiarly the
bonds of their union. A truly christian
people will feel, that the health and pros-

248

perity of their souls, their preparation for
eternity, are the objects of his daily solici-
tude, his prayers, and his exertions. Thus
do their interest in each other, and their
mutual love and confidence, partake of the
elevation, and strength, and purity of the
motives and principles, to which they refer
their sacred relation. In their spiritual life,
he lives ; grows in their spiritual growth,
and strengthens in their strength. Their
christian improvement is the very life
spring of his happiness as a minister of
Christ. The influence, therefore, between
a faithful christian pastor, and those com-
mitted to his care, is mutual. But it is for
him, by his fidelity, to make it mutual. In
their relation to each other, when sanctified
by the principles in which it should be
founded, and by which it should be sus-
tained and established, will be felt none of
the conflicting passions and interests of the
world. They are all one in Christ. They
love and they follow him, as a minister of
Christ. And he seeks not theirs, but
them. This is the influence for which we

249

plead. We believe that it is the design of
the author and finisher of our faith, that
we should possess and cherish it. Nor do
we think that, in one well ordered mind, it
would even for a moment awaken one
feeling of resistance.

Respect for the office of the ministers of
religion is universal. It has been felt in
all ages, under all forms of religion, and in
all countries. — The priests of the early
ages of the world were its kings. And
under almost all the forms of heathenism,
little short of the royal prerogative has
been the authority of those, who have
regulated the high concerns of the altar.
Their supposed favour with the gods has
given them a proportionate influence, as
intercessors for men. And having thus
obtained a direction of the consciences,
they have possessed a control of the pas-
sions and interests of men, often more
entire, than would have been yielded to
any merely human wisdom or power. In
Christendom too, where conscience has
32

250

been given up to the keeping of those,
who, it was thought, could absolve from
sin, and open the gates of heaven ; and
even in protestant Christendom, in the
sects which have appropriated to them-
selves all the spirituality of the gospel, all
that is most important in truth, and most
valuable in the immortal hopes of man ;
in the sects which indulge a spirit of sep-
aration and exclusion, and allow no asso-
ciation of salvation with any other creed or
forms than their own ; the ministers of
religion possess an influence not altogether
unlike that of the priests of heathenism.
I need not however say that, this is not
the proper influence of a christian minister.
It is the influence of the spirit of the
world, in the disguise of religion. From
the early and strong prejudices of educa-
tion ; from the bigotry of some otherwise
greatly enlightened, and the ignorance of
others ; from the natural and unsubdued
love of domination in many ; and from the
very assuming sentiment, that all others
must be necessarily and fatally wrong,

251

because they feel that they are themselves
right, this influence has been, and is ex-
tensively given, and exercised; and to it
are every day sacrificed the meekness, the
candour, and the charity of the gospel.
This influence is the mother of persecu-
tion ; and where it has been unrestrained
by civil power, it has committed crimes as
enormous as any in the records of human
depravity. May God preserve both you
and us from this dreadful abuse of our
high privileges, as ministers and disciples
of our meek, and lowly, and merciful
saviour !

Where there are national ecclesiastical
establishments, an authority is also pos-
sessed by the ministers of religion, which
is in a great measure independent of
ministerial character. I thank God that
we have not such an establishment. Nor
would I for myself, or for my brethren,
have any official influence, but that which
character alone will give us. Respect for,
and attachment to us as ministers of Christ,

252

ought to cease, as soon as our characters
cease to comport with our office. It is
altogether a voluntary relation into which
we enter with the people of our charge.
The minister of a society is chosen by, and
not imposed upon the society to which he
ministers. This is a circumstance, both to
us and those to whom we minister, of
inestimable importance. It is a bond of
union rarely broken, but by death. Our
relation grows out of the mutual affections
indulged during a term of probationary
intercourse. We know, and then love
each other ; we love, and are united. And
the affection which first connected us,
extending with the circumstances that ex-
ercise it, and strengthening with time,
becomes one of the most powerful bonds
of this world. And is the importance less
great, or less certain, than the influence of
a truly christian ministry ?

We would not unduly magnify our office.
But we are not qualified for this office, if
we do not feel the greatness of its interests,

253

and the importance of its duties. Nor
could I attempt to illustrate the influence
of a faithful minister of Christ, without
showing also the importance of his services.
But it demands a distinct consideration.

Look upon the world with the eye and
heart of a mere man of the world, and you
every where see life, activity, the choice of
various objects of pursuit, and a thousand
various and opposite interests soliciting
desire, and animating effort. — But look
upon it again with the purged eye of a
moral, and an accountable being, and see
in this countless multitude how many are
awake, only to regard the objects of their
senses, and are slumbering over the con-
cerns of their souls. See how many are
thoughtlessly rushing on to moral ruin.
How many are deluding conscience, and
making compromises with God, by hollow
professions ; and in self-justification for
the neglect of piety, plead their morality ;
or excuse their neglect of morality, by
recurring to their offices of piety. — See

254

how many ignorant there are to be in-
structed ; how many poor, whose daily
labours leave to them but little command
of time, and whose temptations expose
them to so much vice and wretchedness,
as make them objects for the peculiar
solicitude and exertions of a christian
pastor. How many, notwithstanding the
abundance of their possessions, are anxious
only for new accumulations ; or are seek-
ing all their happiness in the pride, or the
vanity of riches. How many, who will at
all hazards be rich, are making shipwreck
of faith, of integrity, and of every good
affection ; and are falling into temptations,
and snares, and lusts, which drown men in
destruction and perdition. — Look upon the
world, even upon that little world in which
we live, and the round of which we may
daily accomplish, — and ask, what changes
does the gospel propose to effect in it ?
What changes, by the blessing of God, may
be effected in it by a faithful ministry? In
these, see the interests and duties of our
office. He that converteth a sinner from

255

the errour of his ways, will save a soul
from death, and hide a multitude of sins.

Our ministry derives its importance from
the great and most interesting objects of
our religion ; from the objects for which
Christ came into the world, taught, suf-
fered, and died. Do you ask, what are
these objects ? I answer, to bring sinners
to repentance, and the penitent to all the
holiness of the christian character. Chris-
tianity opens to the eye of our faith a state
of ineffable glory, and of eternal improve-
ment. It proposes, even in this world, to
infuse into its believers the spirit of heaven.
It would give us the spirit of Christ.
Christianity is a new spiritual creation.
The subjects of the kingdom of Christ are
new creatures. They are born again by
the word of God. Christ dwells in their
hearts by faith. — Living, they live to the
Lord ; and dying they die to the Lord.
Whether, therefore, they live or die, they
are the Lord's. In our exertions to ac-
complish these objects of our religion, we

256

are working together with God. We are
ambassadors for Christ. We propose,
illustrate, defend and apply the doctrines
he has taught. We inculcate the duties
he has required. We exhort, and we
rebuke, only by the considerations, by
which our master and Lord enforces obli-
gation, addresses our fears, or awakens
and animates our hopes. And what can
be so important to every individual of
mankind, as these objects of our religion ?
Yes, these are interests which should be
ascendant in every heart ; which will make
the beggar who obtains them infinitely
richer, than all the possessions of the
world could make him ; — and without
which, the most affluent, and the most
exalted, will soon find himself to be poor,
and miserable, and blind, and naked. It
is our business to call the attention of
those who hear us to the terms, and the
means of their present and their final ac-
ceptance. By the mercies, and by the
terrours of the Lord, we persuade men.
We would make Christ, requiring us to

257

repent, — Christ dying for our sins, — and
Christ, our advocate and intercessor in
heaven, to be your glory, and your joy.
We would make it to be the language and
the feeling of every heart, God forbid
that I should glory, save in the cross of our
Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world is
crucified to me, and I unto the world. —
Will it be denied then, that the design of
our ministry is important ? It is the great
design of God in the salvation, and eternal
happiness of men. — Alas ! who is sufficient
for these things ?

Does it seem to any one that these are
suggestions of vanity ! We acknowledge
that it is indeed possible to be vain even
of the success, with which we have exposed
the emptiness of all the grandeur of the
world ; with which we have humbled the
pride of men ; with which we have preached
Christ crucified for our sins ; or have im-
pressed those who heard us with the awful
solemnity of judgment and of eternity.
But if this passion be felt, it is because we
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258

do not feel the solemnity and importance
of our relation to Christ, and to those to
whom we minister. It is because we do
not feel that we are to account to him for
the manner in which we have dispensed
his word, and for the intended effects of
our ministry. If we cherish the sentiment,
— the feeling of this relation, and of the
responsibility involved in it, with the
deepest humility, as well as the strongest
affections and interests of our hearts, we
shall beseech sinners to be reconciled to God.

If this be not the most affecting view
that can be taken of our office, it is cer-
tainly one that demands our serious, and
very frequent attention. A vain and
ostentatious display of ourselves in our
ministry ; a peculiar regard to our own
fame, or influence ; and, let me add, a
suspicious, an accusing, and a censorious
spirit in the ministers of Christ ; a dispo-
sition manifested to assume the judgment
seat, and to condemn ; a spirit of enmity
and of separation ; — is it not the spirit of

259

the world ? And will not men of the world,
who form their judgments of religion only
from what they see of its effects, either
infer that they have themselves as much
religion as their teachers ; or that, in their
better morality, they have a deeper and
stronger ground of acceptance ? Within
the circle of his immediate labours, a faith-
ful ambassador for Christ, — a humble, but
devoted representative of his Lord, — for-
getting himself, and toiling in his master's
service ; an example of the efficacy of the
doctrines he teaches, and of the duties to
which he excites others ; in the silent, but
constant influence of his life and conver-
sation, may make an impression of prin-
ciples, and exercise a spirit of devotion, in
which many, with himself, will rejoice with
joy unspeakable in the presence of God.
And a minister of Christ, — if to him we
may apply the name, — whose passion is
vanity or ambition, and whose object is
admiration or renown ; who preaches of
heaven, while his heart is obviously filled
with the cares, and his time is principally

26o

employed in the business of the world ; a
minister of Christ, who sacrifices his charity
to his zeal, or who exhorts men to deny
themselves, and take the cross, while he
freely allows in himself the propensities he
condemns, and indulges the habits against
which he dispenses his admonitions ; a
minister of Christ, calling upon men to
work out their salvation, but heedless of
his own ; urging them to a heavenly con-
versation, while his own breathes only the
spirit of the world ; a minister of Christ in
whom Christ dwells not ; what evil may he
not occasion ? To what guilt may he not
be accessary? Who would not shrink
from the dreadful anticipation of the ac-
count, which such a servant must render
to his Master and judge ?

Our office is as responsible as it is im-
portant. But erroneous sentiments may
be, and I think sometimes are, formed of
its responsibility. We are to account to
God for the temper, and the manner in
which we have sought for truth, and in

26l

which we have dispensed it. It will be
required of us at once, that we have not
taught for doctrines the commandments of
men ; and that we have not failed to de-
clare all that we know, or believe, to be
the counsel of God. And God will demand
of us, that we have been faithful in the use
of all the means and opportunities with
which he has entrusted us, of accomplish-
ing the end of our office. But we are not,
and cannot be, accountable for effects of
our ministry, which are necessarily beyond
our control. We are not, and cannot be
accountable for the evil of errors, which we
have in vain endeavoured to overcome;
for vices we have faithfully, but ineffect-
ually resisted. If it be our duty to teach,
to admonish, to encourage and to confirm,
it is equally the duty of those to whom we
minister to hear ; to inquire at the word of
God, whether these things be so ; and
accept us in these offices, as far as we are
found to be conformed to the instructions
of Christ. If we are responsible, not less
solemn is the account to be rendered by

262

those to whom we minister. We do not
receive souls into our charge, to mould
them according to our will. Nor, if we
have much self-knowledge, or much of the
humility of the gospel, shall we with a
dogmatical confidence, feel every pecu-
liarity of our own sentiments, by whatever
human names they are sanctioned, to be
essential to the salvation of all those who
hear us. What we believe to be truth,
and important truth, it is indeed our duty
to preach, with all the earnestness that
should be inspired by all the great con-
siderations that enforce it. But let every
one remember and feel, that he also is
accountable for these means of grace.
Let every one most seriously consider,
that he is bound to search the scriptures
for himself; to bow his whole soul to their
authority ; to work out his own salvation ;
to give all diligence to make his calling and
election sure. In these views of mutual
obligation, and of mutual accountableness,
faithful ministers will lose none of their
holy ardour, in advancing the cause of

263

their Master ; while at the same time they
will strongly feel, that it is not for them
imperiously to judge and to condemn. And
a christian society will feel, that the con-
science of their minister is to be left as
free as their own ; that he can be instru-
mental of their salvation, only as far as he
is an instrument of aiding them in be-
coming truly christians ; and then only can
be guilty in their condemnation, when he
has not warned sinners of their danger,
besought them to repent, and called them
to be holy, that they might be forgiven and
live.

Is it still thought that we assume too
much in giving this importance to our
office ? Does any one say to us, show us
your credentials, before you address us as
an ambassador for Christ ? Show us the
validity of your ordination ? We reply
that, we have no desire of an imposing
name. We claim no authority over any
man's conscience. We assert no dominion
over your faith or conduct, but that which

264

we can obtain by strength of argument,
and the power of persuasion. I have said
that, we feel ourselves to be called to this
office, by our interest in the christian im-
provement, and in the eternal salvation of
men ; by our readiness and desire, for-
saking all interests and pursuits inconsist-
ent with it, to live and to die in the service
of Christ. And as we attribute all good
influence to God, we ascribe this also to
His agency. Nor do we pretend that we
confer any new powers by the acts of
ordination. We do but acknowledge, and,
by authority given us by the church in
whose name we act, confirm the powers,
and rights, and privileges, to the accept-
ance and exercise of which, he who is to
be ordained is invited by those with whom
he is to be immediately connected as their
minister. In our united prayers we com-
mend him to God ; separate him to all the
services of the sanctuary ; and seek for him
the succour and assistance from above,
which we feel that he needs. We give to
him the right hand of fellowship ; welcome

265

him to a share in our labours, our toils,
and our joys ; and assure him of our sym-
pathy and aid. And in all the departments
of the new duties before him, we charge
him to be faithful. These rites of our
churches are derived from Apostolic usage ;
and we adopt them, because they are most
solemn, most appropriate, and as we be-
lieve, most conformed to the order and
design of the gospel. If they do not make
him whom we thus ordain holy to the
Lord, they make him and others, if they
have the sensibility of christians, feel that
his character and his labours should be
holy. With this act of separation, we
associate the obligation of all the peculiar
duties and services of the christian min-
istry. In this act, he that is ordained
gives up his mind, and heart, and life to
the objects, for which the ministry was
instituted ; the extension and establish-
ment of the dominion of Christ over the
faith, and heart, and lives of those, to
whom he is to minister. If there is to be
a christian ministry, we can conceive of no
34

266

rites more simple, more impressive, nor
more suited to the occasion. They are
directly connected in every mind that so
conceives of them, with the holiness of our
religion, and the corresponding holiness
required of all its believers. These are
our views of the nature of our office, and
of the rites by which we are inducted into
it. Nor do we think that they in any
measure enfeeble, or weaken the impres-
sion of the sentiments, we have expressed
of its importance.

By directing attention to the influence,
and the importance of our ministry, I have
hoped, my dear sir, at once to deepen and
confirm the feelings with which you are
entering on its duties ; and to give a
proper direction to the affections and in-
terests of those, towards whom you are
particularly to sustain this endearing and
solemn relation. You desire, and so you
should, — to possess the proper influence
of a minister of Christ. You wish to be
loved, and to be useful, not from any

267

private and temporal interests, but that
you may advance the objects of the gospel.
You feel that the importance of the min-
istry is, the importance of the religious
improvement, and the eternal salvation of
those, to whom we minister. May you be
an able, a beloved, and a successful ser-
vant of our great Master and Lord. With-
out interfering with the charge you are to
receive, I may, however, warn you, — and
you will kindly receive what is affection-
ately intended, — neither to desire, nor to
exert any influence, for the purity and
rectitude of which you cannot appeal to
the searcher of hearts. Do not for a
moment indulge complacency in the sanc-
tity of character that may be ascribed to
you, if you feel that they are deceived by
whom you are so estimated. And while
you strive with your might, and seek
assistance from God, that you may accom-
plish the purposes of your ministry, let not
an undue influence be attached to any of
your labours, as if these could be in any
degree effectual to the salvation of a single

268

soul, which possesses not the spirit of
Christ, and lives not obedient to his laws.

If you be a faithful minister, you will
find in your duties a full employment of
your time. We may indeed so pass
through the round of our office, as to leave
much leisure from its services, and yet not
expose ourselves to be loudly, or severely
blamed. But little to be envied is that
ambassador of Christ, however desirable in
other respects his condition may be, who
has no higher aim, than to avoid the
immediate censures of those to whom he
ministers. You will watch and labour for
the salvation of souls, feeling always that
you are to give account of your office.
New pleasures await you, and they are the
most refined and valuable of this world.
But new trials and discouragements are
also before you. You are, therefore, to
show yourself to be a good soldier, as well
as a faithful representative of our Lord.
You must be willing to suffer, as well as to
toil for our Master. You must feel that

269

the poorest and most obscure, have equal
claims upon your care, as the most affluent
and respected. You will, therefore, like
our Master, preach the gospel to the poor;
and by suiting your instructions to their
condition and wants, you will yourself be-
come poor, that you may make many rich.
While God is the final object of your love,
and trust, and devotion, you will strive to
make Christ, in his offices and his example,
his commands and his promises, dearer to
the hearts of them that hear you, than any
possessions or relations of the earth. You
will live in daily, humble and fervent
prayer, that God may guide and strengthen
you ; that he may assist you in your studies,
in your preaching, and in your parochial
intercourse ; that through His grace, you
may have many souls as the reward of
your labours ; and that you may so preach
to others, as not yourself to be cast away.
And, we bow our knees unto the Father of
our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom the whole
family in heaven and earth is named, that
he would grant you, accordi7ig to the riches

270

of glory, to be strengthened with might by
His spirit in the inner man ; that Christ
may dwell in your heart by faith; and
being rooted and grounded in love, that you
may be able to comprehend with all saints,
the breadth, the length, and depth, and
height ; and to know the love of Christ that
passeth knowledge ; and that you may be
filled with all the fulness of God !

Brethren of this Christian Society,
We congratulate you on all the
auspicious circumstances of this day. May
it be a day of increasing gladness in your
remembrance ! May you and your children
have occasion to rejoice in a recurrence
to it, in the day of your final account!

It has pleased God, in his inscrutable
providence, very early to deprive you of
the labours of a young, but greatly beloved
teacher and pastor. The affection with
which you cherish the remembrance of his
intercourse and services, the kindness you
have extended to him through the long

271

and distressing term of his illness, the
solicitude with which you are constantly
seeking information concerning him, and
the influence which even at so great a
distance, he is still exerting among you
are pledges to us that our brother, whom
we are now to set over you in the Lord,
may also labour among you with a christian
hope, of advancing in your hearts and
lives the great interests of the Redeemer's
Kingdom. We join our fervent praj'ers
with yours, that it will please God merci-
fully to watch over the revered object of
your anxieties and supplications ; to soften
the pillow of his declining life ; to support
him in all his trials and sufferings ; and
when you shall stand with him at that
tribunal, at which he must give account of
his ministry, and you of your improvement
or neglect of it, that he may be accepted
as a faithful servant, and you as seals of
his ministry, and crowns of his rejoicing.

We are now, by the solemn rites of
ordination, to separate this our brother to

272

your service in the Lord. He is the man
of your choice. You have given full proof
of your affection for him, and of your con-
fidence in him. But let me remind you
that, to receive him indeed as a minister
of Jesus Christ, you must feel that the
importance of his office arises from the
importance to your eternal salvation, of
that gospel you invite him to preach to
you. While his character and exertions
shall correspond with the objects of a truly
christian ministry, and you shall see him
zealously engaged in seeking your relig-
ious improvement, and your final happi-
ness, allow him the influence that is due
to his care and his labours. He will come
into your families, with his heart warm
with the affections of the gospel. Receive
him then as your pastor, with all the love
that should be felt in this endearing re-
lation. But we ask, and we desire for him
no other influence, than he can obtain by
a heart and life devoted to his duties. —
He will be inclined to give a full portion
of his time to the social intercourse, in

273

which he hopes to obtain much of the
success, and the happiness, of his min-
istry. But you will not require of him
those attentions, which would interfere
with the hours that should be consecrated
to study. He desires to come to you
always as a scribe well instructed unto
the kingdom of heaven. Allow him then
the uninterrupted retirement demanded
for his preparations for the pulpit. If
you would gladden his heart, and en-
courage his hands, you will also attend
upon his preaching with constancy, with
seriousness, and with earnest desires of
self-improvement ; with inquisitiveness,
but without a disposition to cavil ; and
respecting his conscience, while you cul-
tivate your own. It will be his duty to
preach to you all that he believes is the
will of God in Christ Jesus concerning
you. It is not less your duty to hear with
ingenuous, and with candid minds ; with
earnest desires of being made wise unto
salvation, through faith in Christ Jesus.

35

*74

If you shall at any time think that he errs,
either in doctrine or in conduct, make not
his error a subject of public discussion,
'till it has first been thoroughly discussed
in private with himself. Innumerable
divisions and evils have arisen in families,
in the church, and in the world, only from
misconception and mistake, which fair ex-
planations at first would have entirely ob-
viated. He comes to you in Christ's stead,
to beseech you all to be reconciled to God.
Let him, therefore, speak to you with the
simplicity and the directness, which mark
and characterize the instructions of our
Lord and of his apostles. Hear him when
he calls upon you to repent ; when he
admonishes you, by the meekness and the
gentleness of Christ, that ye put away all
wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil
speaking, with all malice ; and that ye be
forbearing and affectionate, not towards
one another only, but towards all men ;
when he warns you, be not conformed to
this world, but be transformed by the renew-
ing of your mind; when he enforces the

275

command and the promise, believe on the
Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved ;
when he exhorts you, put ye on the Lord
Jesus Christ ; and lay hold on eternal life.
Hear him when he invites you to com-
memorate that love of our Saviour for us,
which was stronger than death ; and bring
your children to him, that he may initiate
them by baptism into the church of our
Lord. And let your daily prayers ascend
to God for him, that he may be an instru-
ment of bringing you and your children
to glory, to honour, and to immortality.
Thus, being sanctified and cleansed by the
washing of yater, and by the wbrd, may
you be at last accepted a glorious church,
not having spot or wrinkle, or any such
thing ; but holy, and without blemish. —
Now, therefore, O God, hear the prayer
of thy servants, and cause thy face to
shine on this thy sanctuary ! Clothe thy
priests with salvation, and cause thy
saints to shout aloud for joy ? And now
unto Him that is able to do exceeding
abundantly, above all that we can ask

276

or think, according to the power that
worketh in us, unto Him be glory in the
church by Jesus Christ, throughout all
ages, world without end. Amen !

RIGHT HAND OF FELLOWSHIP

BY THE

Rev. JARED SPARKS,

OF BALTIMORE.

The works and dispensations of God
declare his goodness. The smiles of his
love beam upon us from every object in
nature. The temple of the universe is a
magnificent display of his benevolence, no
less than of his wisdom and power.

But the love of God is no where more
conspicuous, than in the endowments, re-
sources and prospects of his creatures.
He has formed us intellectual and rational
beings ; he has given us powers, which
elevate and dignify our natures ; he has
made us capable of knowing and imitating
his perfections. And he has not only

278

bestowed upon us the noble distinctions
of reason, intelligence, wisdom, conscience ;
he has also implanted within us the prin-
ciples of love, which make so large a part
of his own character. These are the prin-
ciples, which our religion is intended to
call forth and improve.

The Saviour of men spake to us in the
accents of love. His gospel is an angel
of love, which bears on its wings the joy-
ful tidings of peace and good will to men.
His religion was intended to influence the
heart, to awaken the affections, "to make
man mild, and sociable to man," and by
causing us to live in peace and concord,
to prepare us for a more intimate and
happy fellowship in the regions of the
blessed. The religion of Jesus Christ has
no other object, than the happiness of
men. For this, he gave light to a world
before in darkness ; for this, he suffered
and died, and left us a pure, and holy, and
perfect example. His life was as spotless
as his doctrines were divine. The dews

279

of heavenly instruction distilled from his
lips. Compassion for the afflicted, sym-
pathy with the disconsolate, and the desire
of doing good to all, prompted every
emotion of his soul, and every action he
performed. He would have us plant, and
nourish the seeds of our own happiness,
and enjoy the fruit of our labours. This
must be done by a cultivation and exercise
of our best affections ; by drawing closer
the ties of friendship, and multiplying the
harmonies of life ; by mutual efforts to
give activity to the social principle, and to
extend the influence of religion.

To promote these objects, the apostles
of old were accustomed to give the right
hand of fellowship to those, who were
appointed to be fellow labourers with them
in the cause of truth, as a symbol of union
and brotherly love. In conformity with
this usage of the primitive christians, in
the name of the churches, and in compli-
ance with the instructions of the council,
which has approved your ordination, I give

28o

you this right hand. Take it, my brother,
as a token of our love, a pledge of our
cordial fellowship, of our warm interest in
your welfare, and the success of your min-
isterial labours. We receive you with
gladness to a participation in all the priv-
ileges and services, the cares and solici-
tudes, the satisfactions and hopes of the
sacred office, to which you are this day
solemnly dedicated. We promise you our
consolation and support, as far as our
opportunities will allow, and feel assured
we shall receive yours in return.

Christians are commanded to preserve
a unity of the spirit in the bond of peace.
Let this be our aim. It is not a uniformity
in opinions, in faith, or in our peculiar
notions of metaphysical theology, which is
required ; but a unity of spirit, temper,
feelings and disposition. Whatever may
be our speculative opinions, whatever
views we may have of the disputed points
of doctrine, to whatever religious denomi-
nation we may belong, or however widely

28l

we may differ in the outward forms of
worship ; in all that is essential as chris-
tians, in all that is essential to purity
of heart, holiness of life, and acceptance
with God, we may meet as brethren.
Here is a bond of union, which may em-
brace all the followers of Christ. We may
all unite in keeping alive the spirit and
temper of his religion. We may harmonize
in devotion and love to God, in charity
and mutual kind offices to one another.
We can be of one heart and one mind in a
faithful discharge of the duties of piety and
of our social relations. May you, and may
we all who profess to be the disciples of
Christ, endeavour to promote this christian
unity, and think it more important, that
our lives should be adorned with these
essential virtues of our religion, than that
we should spend our time in idle differ-
ences about words, and forms, and opinions.

In discharging the duties of a minister
of Christ, we cannot promise you pleasures
36

282

without pain, rewards without toil, or an-
ticipations without disappointment. We
cannot promise you, that the dreams of
hope will always be realized, or that your
zeal and exertions will always be crowned
with adequate success. But amidst your
cares and anxieties, you will be consoled
with the consciousness, that you are
striving to do all to the glory of God, and
for the good of men. While you see the
humble, and pure, and gentle spirit of the
gospel daily gaining a hold on the hearts
of men ; while you see charity, peace and
concord mingling in their intercourse, and
giving a tone to the society around you,
do not feel, that your labour is vain.

And now, my friend and brother, permit
me to avail myself of the privilege of this
occasion, and offer you this hand again, as
a testimony of personal friendship and
affection. You will not think it a cold or
formal offering, nor do I believe it will
revive associations, which you would wish
to suppress. We have walked together in

283

the groves of science, we have listened to
the same voice of instruction, we have
searched with mutual labour for the treas-
ures of knowledge, and divine truth. These
are the recollections of former times. And
even now, it has been the will of Provi-
dence, that our lots should be similar. We
have left far behind the cherished scenes
of our earlier years, the occupations which
delighted, and the friends, who consoled
and cheered us, to make our residence in
a land of strangers. But the cause of
truth and of heaven is a universal cause.
While we approve ourselves faithful ser-
vants of our Lord and Master, and discharge
with fidelity the duties of our station, we
shall find the stranger our friend, the God
of mercy will overshadow us with the wings
of his love, sustain us in the hour of trial,
scatter the clouds of despondency, and
gild with the beams of joy the rising
prospects of our future labours.

Christian brethren, and friends of this
church and society, allow me to offer you

284

our congratulations on this occasion, and
to express the joy we feel in the testimony
you have given of your zeal in the cause
of christian truth and liberty. Our best
wishes are, that you may be built up in
the spirit of christian unity and love, and
that you may be enlightened with a knowl-
edge of the truth as it is in Christ Jesus.
We hope you will always regard it, not
only your privilege, but your right and
duty, to assert and maintain the freedom
wherewith he has made you free. Let his
example and instructions, and those of his
apostles be your guide. Let your own
conviction of the truth, and your own
understanding of the word of God, be the
measure of your faith ; and whatever others
may think and teach, let it be your de-
termination to "read and understand," and
"judge of yourselves what is right." Let
your value of the truth be known by the
candour and earnestness with which you
search, and the readiness with which you
embrace it. Let your faith be known by

285

your practice ; your good intentions by
your good actions ; your love to God, by
your love to men ; the sincerity of your
religious professions, by the holiness of
your lives.

SERMON

PREACHED

THE ORDINATION

OF

THE REV. ORVILLE DEWEY.

THE DISTINCTIVE CHARACTER AND CLAIMS OF CHRISTIANITY:

A

SERMON,

PREACHED AT THE

ORDINATION

OF

THE REV. ORVILLE DEWEY.

PASTOR OF THE FIRST CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH
IN

NEW-BEDFORD,

DECEMBER 17, 1823.

BY JOSEPH TUCKERMAN,

Pastor of the Church of Christ in Chelsea, Mass.

NEW-BEDFORD:

PUBLISHED BY ANDREW GERRISH, JR.
BENJAMIN LINDSEY, PRINTER.

l824.

TO

THE REV. ORVILLE DEWEY,

AND THE

CHRISTIAN SOCIETY
UNDER HIS PASTORAL CARE,

THIS SERMON,

PRINTED AT THEIR REQUEST,

IS INSCRIBED

WITH SINCERE RESPECT AND AFFECTION,

BY

THE AUTHOR.
New-Bedford, Dec. 18th, 1823.

SERMON.

HEBREWS I. i,2.

God, who at sundry times, and in divers manners,
spake in time past to the fathers by the prophets,
hath in these last days spoken unto us, by his son.

In these words, we are taught that Chris-
tianity is the last of a series of divine
communications to man ; and, in the faith
that it is a dispensation from God, we have
assembled here, to perform one of its most
solemn and important rites ; the Ordina-
tion of a Christian Minister. I avail my-
self, then, of the occasion, to call your
attention, to the distinctive character, and
claims, of the religion of Christ. In right
views of the peculiar character of our
religion, we obtain just sentiments of the
distinctive character, and objects, of the
Christian Ministry. It will shew also, that

292

our religion is worthy of all the efforts and
sacrifices, that it may demand, for the
maintainance of its institutions ; that they
are the proper objects of the highest con-
cern of every individual.

The Distinctive Character, and Claims
of Christianity : What are they ?

First, let us glance at them, — for it is a
glance only that we can take of them — in
the manner in which our religion was
taught by our Lord. Happily for us, our
Lord's manner of teaching is preserved in
the narratives of the Evangelists, which
are as original, as distinctive, even as our
religion itself.

In this view of our subject, I would
remark only, that in the manner in which
our religion was taught by our Lord, it was
brought to the severest trial of its truth.
It was shewn also, as it could not other-
wise have been shewn, to be suited to the
ever varying exigences of human life;
suited to form the heart and character of
man to the moral perfection, to which it
calls its believers. We do not, indeed,

293

distinguish it from Judaism, by any of its
characters of truth. But, by these we
distinguish it from all other religions. And
we distinguish it even from Judaism, in its
suitableness to the circumstances of all
mankind, and to the greatest possible ex-
altation of our nature.

Let us look, then, at the records of the
four Evangelists.

It is worthy of observation, that, to every
one who can read them in the language in
which they were first written, they are
obviously — except one, that of Luke — the
writings of men, who certainly were not
skilled in composition. Nor is there in
one of them an indication of a design to
produce, what is called, effect. And yet,
never was there a narrative, either before,
or since the days of the Evangelists, suited
to exert any moral power, compared with
that which has been, is, and will be exerted,
by these simple composures. Their design
is single, and uniform. It is, to teach
Christianity. And how do they teach it ?
Not by making a collection of abstract

294

truths. Not by compiling, from the in-
structions of their Master, what is called,
in modern times, a system of christian
theology. But, by giving us, what is cer-
tainly far better, a history of Christianity
during the life of Jesus ; thus leaving
every reader of the New Testament to
determine the question for himself, what
is Christianity ? They faithfully relate to
us, what Jesus said, and did, and suffered.
And not only so. By the perfect artless-
ness, at once, and the vivacity of their
narratives, they make us, as far as it may
be done, hearers of his discourses, and
witnesses of his miracles and conduct.
They exhibit to us Christianity, in its
great design, in the life and character of
its author. And need we, to convince any
one of the perfect originality of this char-
acter, or of its truth, to extend our appeal
beyond the records, in which it is trans-
mitted to us ? *

* These remarks may be applied equally to the Acts of the
Apostles, and to their Epistles.

The Acts of the apostles are a history of Christianity, from
the ascension of our Lord, till the seventh year of the emperor

295

Here is one, who claims to be the Son
of God ; to have come from God, that he

Nero; when Paul was taken to Rome, in consequence of his
" appeal to the judgment seat of Caesar." Here are related the
transactions of the Apostles in solemn council; the effusion of
the Holy Spirit upon them, according to the promise of our
Lord; their preaching and miracles; the resistance which the
Jews continued to oppose to our religion, and the conversion of
many ten thousands of them; the very peculiar circumstances
under which Peter was constrained to preach the gospel to the
Gentiles; the conversion and apostleship of Paul; his travels,
and preaching; the persecutions he endured; his trials before
the civil authorities; and his voyage from Cesarea to Puteoli, on
the bay of Naples, from which place he went by land to the
imperial city. This is, in truth, a most precious book. Here, as
in the narratives of the Evangelists, our religion is given to us,
in association with facts and reasonings ; and we see it, in
almost every sentence, accumulating new evidence of its truth,
and its power; and in the preaching of the Apostles, breathing
the very spirit of Jesus. It is in this all pervading, life giving,
heavenly spirit of their instructions, that we see what Christianity
was in the days of its apostles. Here our religion is taught, as
nearly as it could be in the circumstances in which the apostles
were, as it had been taught by our Lord. Here — and the re-
mark applies equally to the epistles — it is carried through all the
scenes of difficulty and suffering, through which its preachers
passed; and its doctrines and duties are to be studied in con-
nexion with the circumstances, with which they stand recorded.
There is an expansion thus given to our views of all the subjects
on which the apostles taught, which we could not have obtained
from any other mode of presenting them to us. To our view of
the internal evidence of our religion, derived from this mode of
its transmission to us, Paley has done ample justice in his Horse
Paulinae. It is an argument, which infidelity has not attempted

296

might bring the last dispensation of his
will to mankind. He professes, that he is

to answer; and it is scarcely less satisfactory, than a mathe-
matical demonstration. But let any one pass from the four
gospels, to this book, and read it throughout with singleness of
eye and of heart; and in the characters, preaching, and conduct
of the apostles, he will see Christianity to be — with many new
illustrations indeed, but still — precisely what it was in the teach-
ing of our Lord. He will see it to be, not a mere form of doc-
trine, or a code of laws; but, a scheme of divine operation for
the renewal and sanctification of the heart and character of?nan ;
for the salvation of a world of sinners. He will here see our
religion at war, not only with idolatry, and with spiritual wick-
edness in high places; but with ignorance in all its degrees,
and with depravity in all its forms. He will find it, not in
metaphysical disquisitions, but in the actual agency of Christ in
the concerns of his church; in the increasing clearness and force
with which the great designs of Christ are developed, as they re-
spect each individual, and all mankind; as they respect this
world^ and the life to come. This mode of communicating to us
our religion, seems to me to be, of all that can be supposed,
the most suited to display the wisdom, and power, and mercy
of God; the most suited to form the character, to which it ad-
dresses its promises.

The grand arsenal of theological controversy, is in the epis-
tolary department of the New Testament; in which were some
things hard to be understood, even in the days of the apostles.
How much harder still then is it, at this time, to arrive at that
certainty in regard to these obscurities, which will justify any
one in pronouncing authoritatively upon their import? One
thing, however, I think we may affirm without fear; which is,
that these epistles contain no doctrine, which is not contained
in the teaching of our Lord, as it is transmitted to us by the
Evangelists. The author and finisher of our faith did not leave

297

in the Father, and that the Father is in
him; that the Father has sanctified, and

a defective religion, and commission his apostles to perfect it.
In regard both to doctrine, and to duty, there is, and must be,
throughout the New Testament, a perfect unity of character.
Any contrariety that may appear in these epistles, is the result
of the peculiar circumstances under which the apostles taught;
the peculiar objections to our religion which they had to obviate;
the misconstructions of christian truth, which they had to cor-
rect; the inquiries of churches — now, perhaps, but very im-
perfectly understood by us — which they had to answer; and
the contentions, which they had to settle. Forget that these
epistles are "accommodated to the disputes and controversies,
the errours and false notions, which prevailed when they were
written," and we shall be exposed to as many misconceptions of
their true import, as they were themselves designed to expose,
and to remove.

"The general method observable in these apostolic letters is,
first, to discuss the particular point debated in the church, or
among the persons to whom they are addressed, and which
was the occasion of their being written; and in the next place,
to give such exhortations to every christian duty and virtue, as
would be at all times, and in every church, of necessary and
absolute importance; paying a particular regard to those vir-
tues, which the disputes that occasioned the epistle might tempt
them to neglect. Now the former part of these epistolary
writings cannot be rightly understood, but by attending care-
fully to the state of the question there determined. Therefore
the errours and vain disputes concerning Faith and Works,
Justification and Sanctification, Election, Reprobation, &c,
which have so long vexed, and distracted the minds of chris-
tians, have all arisen from one grand mistake; that of apply-
ing to themselves, or to other particular persons now, certain

38

298

sent him into the world, for the instruction
and salvation of men ; that he came to
seek and to save that which was lost ; that
he speaks the words, and does the work of
his Father ; that he can do nothing of him-
self ; but that God has given him power
to bring to eternal life, and to eternal
happiness, all who receive, and obey him.*
See, then, how the Evangelists carry our
religion through all the trials, through
which our Lord himself was carried.

In the four gospels, we have narratives
of the conversation and conduct, as well
of the enemies, as of the friends of Jesus.
Here, in almost every direction, we see
new adversaries of his person, and of his

phrases or passages, which plainly referred to the then state and
condition, not of particular persons, but of whole churches,
whether Jewish or Gentile, of those times. Perplexed and
puzzled with these knotty points, many well meaning christians
have been drawn from paying a due regard to those moral, and
weighty exhortations, which are most easy to be understood,
and of infinite obligation to be put in practice." Pyle. See
Percy's Key to the New Testament, p. 80.

*Johnxiv. 10, 11, and x. 36, 37. — Luke xix. 10. — John iii.
35, and v. 19-30.

299

cause ; new combinations forming against
him ; new artifices adopted to ensnare him
in his words, to disappoint him in his pur-
poses, to destroy his influence, and to
justify designs upon his life. Here we
are told of the occupations and weak-
nesses, the doubts and credulity, the dis-
putes and contentions of his apostles ; of
the treachery of one of them ; of the pre-
sumption of another, his cowardice, and
denial of his Master ; and of the faithless-
ness of all of them, when they forsook
him and fled. And here are related the
grounds of the opposition of those who
rejected him ; their machinations ; and
their final success in his crucifixion.
Greater embarrassments, and more for-
midable obstacles, than were those which
our Lord had daily to meet and to over-
come, are not even to be imagined. And
yet he established his religion. How?

The two methods adopted by him for
this end were, preaching, and conversation.
He is night and day surrounded by mul-
titudes, but he never courts observation,

300

and never shuns it. He teaches in the
temple, in the synagogue, in the house, in
the streets, and in the fields ; varying his
instructions, and manner of imparting
them, with all the varying circumstances
of every occasion. — Now, he is dispelling
ignorance by the most familiar and con-
descending explanations ; and now, com-
batting prejudice and errour, with the
most powerful reasonings. Now, he is
indirectly communicating by parables,
what they who heard him, would indig-
nantly have repelled, if it had been more
directly taught ; and now, he is explicitly
announcing the most glorious, and the
most solemn truths, as those around him
were prepared to receive them. Now, he
is encouraging the timid, strengthening
the feeble, and animating those who have
begun well ; and now he is pouring the
wine and oil of his consolations into the
wounded heart. Now, in language as
sweet as can be conceived to be that of
heaven, he is dispensing promises, which
comprehend all that can be hoped for in

30i

heaven ; and now, in accents only less
terrible than will be those, with which he
will at last say to the impenitent, depart ye
cursed ! he pronounces the most dreadful
condemnation upon the obdurate enemies
of truth and virtue. Here is a zeal, a
tenderness, and a compassion, of which
there had been no example. No com-
promise is made with a single sin. No
sinner, whatever may be his rank, or his
pretensions, is spared. Nay, it is against
the very religionists of the age, the proud
asserters of their own piety, that he directs
his most solemn woes. The design of
Jesus is, to establish the kingdom — the
perfect moral government — of God, in
every heart. Against secret, and open
opposition, therefore, he exposes all that
is evil, not alone in the prevailing charac-
ter of the time, and in established usage,
but in fluctuating opinions ; in affections
and desires ; and in all the inducements,
and motives, of those who heard him. He
lays bare all that hypocrisy attempts to
cover ; and exhibits sin as a disease of the

302

soul, threatening spiritual death. He de-
clares himself to be the Great Physician,
who alone can administer a remedy, that
will save from moral death ; the death of
happiness. Here see the doctrines and
duties of our religion, taught in connexion
with circumstances, which give to them
the greatest possible illustration and power.
Can a manner be conceived of proposing
religious instruction to man, in which it
will be brought to a severer trial ; in which
duty, in the ever changing circumstances
of human temptation, could have been
more powerfully enforced ; or excitement
and comfort, in all our afflictions, more
effectually administered ?

It is a very remarkable peculiarity of
our Lord's teaching, that he seldom asserts
his divine mission, or declares himself to
be the Messiah, but when peculiar circum-
stances compel him to it. He prefers to
leave the question of his claims to be felt,
in his instructions, and in his works. And
what were his works? He is every day
performing the most stupendous miracles.

3°3

They are performed, too, as well before
his most inveterate enemies, whose inves-
tigation of them he challenges, as before
his chosen followers. They are performed
with the same simplicity, with which God
said, let there be light ! and there was light.
And they have the same character of be-
nevolence and mercy, which distinguishes
all his instructions. They inspire as well
the warmest love to himself, and the most
active compassion towards every sufferer,
as conviction of his own divine authority.
Now I ask, if it be not also very remark-
able, that, neither in their accounts of the
teaching, and miracles of our Lord, nor in
anything that they have said of his actions,
or sufferings, the Evangelists have ex-
pressed one emotion of admiration of his
character ; nor have employed an epithet,
for the excitement of admiration of it in
others. Like himself, they have left his
character and authority to be inferred, and
felt, from what is seen, and heard. Little
to be envied is that mind, which is insen-
sible to this peculiarity of our Lord's con-

304

duct ; and of those records, in which a
knowledge of it is conveyed to us.

I will adduce but one other peculiarity
of the manner in which our Lord taught
his religion. It is, however, a circumstance,
to which too much importance cannot be
attached ; which has no parallel in any
other religion ; and, in the disregard of
which, it is impossible to form a just con-
ception of Christianity. The circumstance
to which I refer is, that our religion was
taught, and is to be sought \ in the example
and life of Christ.

It will be conceded, that the precepts of
Jesus comprehend all the moral duties of
man ; all that man owes to his Maker, and
to his fellow-creatures ; and that these
precepts, received as the will of God, and
faithfully applied to every part of disposi-
tion and conduct, would form a perfect
man. It will be conceded too, even by
one who doubts of the divine mission of
our Lord, that these precepts, considered
apart from our Lord's character and life,
and viewed alone in their bearings upon

3°5

the occasions on which they were given,
and the individuals to whom they were
applied, are obviously adapted to do more
for the subjection of all evil passions ;
more to purify the heart in all its sources
of feeling and of action ; more to raise
man to a moral resemblance of God ; to
bring universal peace upon earth, and to
inspire a hope full of immortality, — a hap-
piness which we could all wish should be
immortal, — than had ever before been
done, or attempted ; or, than had ever
entered the thought of man. The most
enlightened reason, acting upon human
experience, from the time of Jesus till this
hour, has not discovered a religious, or
moral obligation, which is not plainly
comprised in his instructions. Take the
fact, then, as unquestionable, and certainly,
not less extraordinary, that there is not a
duty that he required, repentance alone
excepted, which he did not practice. Do
we then see in our Lord absolute moral
perfection ? How shall we account for
this phenomenon ? It is a perfection, too,

39

306

that is attained, as it must be in ourselves,
in the highest degree in which we may
arrive at it in this world, by difficulty, and
suffering. We see him, at almost every
step of his way, meeting with new impedi-
ments, and with many, that are apparently
insurmountable ; but always rising in moral
greatness, and in moral loveliness and
attraction, in proportion to the resistance
of the circumstances under which he is
acting. Is not ours, then, a religion pecu-
liarly suited to the exigences of a state
of weakness, temptation and suffering?
Could one uncommissioned, and unaided
by God, have so taught, and so lived, as
did Jesus ?

I would ask any ingenuous man, who
has never carefully read the gospels, and
who is sceptical upon the question of the
divine authority of our Lord, to make the
attempt to read them with an unbiassed
mind ; and then to say, whether in the
nature of things, it be possible, that Chris-
tianity could have been a fabrication of
the Evangelists ; or whether, on the sup-

Z°7

position that our Lord taught in Judea, —
the only conceivable one upon which we
can account for these narratives, — it be
possible, with any part of his conduct to
reconcile the idea of imposture ; or to
impeach one of his instructions, as un-
worthy of a communication from God?
Here is no mysterious oracle, uttering
dark responses, capable of various con-
struction, and accommodated to all the
uncertainty of future events. Here is no
assumption of authority, independent of
evidence as unequivocal, as miraculous
power, and perfect holiness and virtue,
can make it. Christianity lives, and acts,
and inspires life, in the examples and facts
with which it is associated. And has any
other religion, in the character and life of
its author, a support of its claims, for a
moment to be compared with that of the
religion of Christ? How, then, I ask
again, shall we account for this character,
and for this religion ? How, but by the
admission that he was, what he assumed
to be, the Son of God.

3o8

In the second place, I would remark, that
it is a distinctive circumstance in the
character of Christianity, from which also
it derives distinctive claims* that in all its
doctrines, it addresses itself directly to the
reason, and judgment, of all mankind.

In all the dispensations of God to man,
that are recorded in the Old Testament, he
has appealed to these highest principles of
human nature. But Judaism, as far as it
is distinguished from Christianity, was in-
tended to be a local, and temporary dis-
pensation. In these parts of it, therefore,
it could not have approved itself to the
judgment of all men, had the attempt been
made, to obtain for it an acknowledgment
of its universal obligation. Its great de-
sign was, to preserve in the world the
knowledge, and worship of the one true
God ; to teach the purest principles and
rules of virtue, which the Jews, as God's
people, were then capable of receiving;
and to be preparatory to the more spiritual
dispensation, in which it was God's pur-
pose to reveal himself to all mankind.

3°9

All beside, in Judaism, was but incidental
to this design, and passed away at the
introduction of Christianity. But in its
addresses to the reason and conscience of
man, our religion looks far beyond Judaism,
and it overlooks every other religion. It
has in it nothing that is local, nothing that
is partial. It does not indeed profess to
be, exclusively, a new religion ; but rather,
the completion of the plans of God, for the
moral renovation of the world. It assumes,
therefore, from the revelations that pre-
ceded it, all that was intended to be per-
petual ; and proposes, with what itself
reveals, to aim at universal empire. How?
By requiring implicit faith ? No. But by
calling upon all men to understand its
doctrines, as well as to believe them. By
teaching doctrines, which, the more they
are examined, are found more to illustrate
the infinite wisdom, the perfect impartiality
and justice, and the adorable love and
mercy, of God. Its evidence, arising from
the reasonableness of its doctrines, is as

3io

broad as are its claims ; as deep as are its
eternal interests.

That religion itself belongs to human
nature, — that it makes a part of what is
properly to be denominated human nature,
— is demonstrated by the fact, that in no
age, or country, of which we have any
records, or information, has man been
found without religion. Even where his
intellectual powers have obtained only that
partial development, which enables him to
secure for himself few advantages, or com-
forts, above those of the animals with
which he shares the forests, undisturbed
but by his contests with them ; and where
his moral capacities, or rather, his moral ex-
ercises, give him no very honourable claims
of superiority over the creatures, whose
attachment to each other, whose gratitude,
and whose fidelity, we do not ascribe to
moral principles; even in the most. ignor-
ant, and most degraded state of human
society, we find religion. Man everywhere
has, and at all times has had, a feeling of
his dependence on a power, or powers,

3"

superior to his own. He has sought to
obtain the favour, and to avert the dis-
pleasure, of these great agents, to which
he has felt himself to be in subjection.
Let the opponent of revelation say, if he
please, that in every form in which religion
exists among men, it is fairly to be as-
cribed, not to the deductions of reason,
but to the uncontrollable operation of fear ;
and that, deprive man of his fears, and
you equally deprive him of religion. Still,
it is not to be denied, that the principle,
whatever it may be, to which the influence
of religion is to attributed, is, and ever has
been, universal. It is as essential a prin-
ciple of human nature, as is desire, or love.
And, so far has been reason, in the prog-
ress of society, from discovering that the
fears, or the principles of our nature, call
them what you will, in which religious
feelings have their origin, are groundless,
and unworthy of an improved condition of
our race, that where men have been unen-
lightened by revelation, the number both
of gods, and of rites for their worship, has

312

been increased, with the arts and refine-
ments of civilization. Yes, the very efforts
of reason, for the discovery of the mind,
and designs of God ; even the gods that
have been worshipped ; the temples that
have been reared to them ; the altars that
have been raised ; the smoke of every
sacrifice, and the prayers of every offerer
of it ; all these bear witness, with the un-
mixed fears of the most ignorant super-
stition, that the necessity of religion is
founded deeply in our nature ; that religion
belongs to human nature. Even the de-
sire of a revelation has been felt, and
expressed, where its excitement can be
ascribed only to the actings of reason,
upon the indications of a moral govern-
ment ; and the probabilities which nature
suggests, of a life beyond the grave.* Is it
not reasonable to suppose, then, either if

* We are told of the most distinguished moral philosopher of
heathen antiquity, that, having met one of his young disciples
going into a temple to pray, and seeing him to be very pensive,
and with his eyes fixed on the ground, he asked him, of what he
was thinking? The inquiry led to a discussion on the subject of
prayer. I quote a few sentences which we find in the close of
their conversation.

3*3

man cannot, without supernatural aid, attain
the religious knowledge that he wants, and

Socrates. Do you not remember that you told me you were
in great perplexity, through the fear that you should at unawares
pray for evil things, while you designed to ask only for good?

Alcibiades. I remember it very well, Socrates.

Socrates. You see that it is not at all safe for you to go into
the temple to pray, in the condition in which you now are, lest
God, hearing your blasphemies, should reject your sacrifices;
and to punish you, should give you what you would hot have.
In my opinion, therefore, it is much better that you should be
silent; for I know you well. Your pride, — for that is the soft-
est name that I can give to your imprudence, — your pride, I say,
probably will not permit you to use the prayer of the Lacede-
monians,— who desire the gods to give them that which is comely ',
with that which is good. Therefore it is altogether necessary
that you should wait for some one to teach you how you ought
to behave yourself both towards the gods, and men.

Alcibiades. And when will that time come, Socrates? And
who is he that will instruct me ? With what pleasure shall I
look upon him !

Socrates. He will do it, who takes a true care of you. We
read in Homer, that Minerva dissipated the mist that covered
the eyes of Diomede, and prevented him from distinguishing
God from man. So it is necessary, in the first place, that he
should scatter the darkness that covers your soul; and after-
wards give you the remedies that are required, to enable you to
distinguish between good and evil.

Alcibiades. Let him scatter this darkness of mine, and do
whatever he pleases. I abandon myself to his conduct, and am
ready to obey all his commands, provided I may but be made
better by them.

Dacier's Abridgement of Plato. Second Alcibiades.

40

3*4

needs ; or having once possessed, has lost
it ; that God would reveal himself to his
intelligent, and moral offspring? Admit
that it is, and we fear not any investigation
that can be made, of the reasonableness of
the doctrines of our religion. — Hear, and
understand, is the language of Jesus to all to
whom he addresses his doctrines. Prove
all things, says the great apostle of the
Gentiles ; and hold fast that which is good.

Without entering minutely into a con-
sideration of christian doctrines, — which
the time forbids, — let me ask you, first, to
compare the actual character and condition
of man in this world, with the views which
are presented of them in our religion.

The principle, which runs through all the
preceding dispensations of God, is also
fundamental in Christianity, that the whole
world lieth in wickedness ; that, all have
sinned, and come short of the glory of God ;
and, if we say that we have no sin, we de-
ceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.
This principle, everywhere recognized in
our Lord's teaching, must everywhere be

3^5

kept in view, when we are considering his
instructions. In the eye of Jesus, man is
a being of exalted moral powers, and moral
relations. He is a child of God ; and de-
signed for an immortal existence of moral
exercises, and of moral happiness. But he
is a being too, equally wonderful in his
weaknesses ; in his ignorance ; in the
strength and perversion of his passions ;
in his subjection to sense, and to appetite ;
in his proneness to the earth, and to the
lusts and vices of the world. In the view
of Jesus, sin is a disease, which has ex-
tended to the whole of our race. He says
nothing, indeed, of the origin of moral evil.
It is a question which has nothing to do
with practical religion. His great concern
is with the fact, man is, everywhere, a sinner.
He is therefore, everywhere, to be re-
claimed, and renewed. In forming our
judgment, then, of christian doctrine, as
far as it respects the character and con-
dition of man in this world, — and this is a
greatly important view of it, — let history,
let observation, let experience give their

316

testimony. The appeal is to facts, and it
is addressed to every heart. We ask only,
that every individual, in determining the
question, are you, or are you not, a sinner,
should also fairly consider, what are the
moral powers which God has given him ;
and what are the duties, which, in consis-
tency with these powers, God may at last
most justly demand of him.

Again, let us view our religion in its
great designs in regard to mankind.

What are they ? Nothing less than the
recovery of man from sin ; the renewal of
every heart from all that is evil ; the sub-
jection of every passion to the will of God ;
the control of every thought ; the sanctifi-
cation of every affection. It would trans-
fuse into every one who receives it, the
very spirit of Christ. It would exalt each
one, as nearly as he can be brought, to the
measure of the stature of the fulness of
Christ. It is the design of our religion,
not merely to establish a more perfect
system of ethics, than had before been
taught, and to bring immortal life to the

3*7

light of perfect day ; but, by its instructions
concerning the character and government
of God, its warnings and threatenings
against sin ; and its descriptions, as pecu-
liar, of the character and happiness of
heaven ; to bring man to the highest moral
exercises ; to the most perfect virtue ; to
the purest devotion ; and to preparation for
heaven. It teaches that, withotit holiness,
no flesh shall see the Lord; and, it would
make every man, a partaker of the divine
nature. What, then, has reason to adduce
against these designs ? It is said, they are
impracticable? Infidelity cannot bring an-
other objection against them, that is even
plausible. They are not only consistent
with the worthiest sentiments that we can
form of God, but they give to these sen-
timents the strongest exercise, in every
heart that feels them. They are not only
consistent with the highest capacity of our
nature, that of indefinite religious and moral
improvement ; but they prescribe the only
rule, by which the greatest possible prog-
ress can be secured ; by which the relative

3«*

perfection, of which we are not without
examples, may be attained in this world.

It is a poor and low conception of our
religion, that its end, in regard to us, is
accomplished, either by any external ob-
servances ; or by a piety and virtue which
we may approve, when measured by any
other standard than that of the gospel.
The great peculiarities of Christianity are
to be seen, in its adaptation to the cir-
cumstances of a world of sinners ; and in
its provisions for the forgiveness, and ac-
ceptance of God, which it would obtain for
us. It proposes to produce as great a
change of heart and character in every
individual, as would be effected, if he were
all that the instructions of Christ could
make him. Cast out of Christianity what
is remedial in it — what concerns its pur-
poses and means of mercy for sinners, and
it is a religion for angels ; for intelligences,
pure as those of the heaven to which it
calls us. Is reason, then, offended, that
great means should be employed, for ends
so great as are proposed by our religion ?

3*9

Is reason offended, that God should send
his Son, for the restoration, and salvation
of men ?

Christianity teaches, also, that God will
give his holy spirit to them that ask him.
And is it unreasonable, that creatures who
are exposed to so many temptations, and
who are called to such attainments ; that
children of such a Father, in their desires
and endeavours to obtain his favour, should
be permitted to ask, and should be assured
of receiving, the assistance which they
need from him ? If we are called to the
holiness of the first disciples of our Lord ;
to the same willingness to forsake all, if it
be necessary, in order to follow Christ ;
and if we have to struggle with the same
opposing interests of passions, with which
they had to contend ; do we, less than they
did, require the supports, and excitements,
and consolations of the spirit of God ?

Or, I would ask, has reason anything to
bring against the doctrine, of the death of
our Lord Jesus Christ for us ; the doctrine,
that his blood was shed for the remission of

320

sins. It is indeed most irrational to sup-
pose, that the innocent, the holy Jesus,
died as a substitute for sinners ; that he
suffered the punishment of their sins. Pun-
ishment necessarily implies guilt, in him
who is the subject of it ; nor will the term
admit of application to the sufferings of
one who is innocent, whatever he may
endure in the cause of the guilty. Nor is
there a word like this, in the teaching
either of our Lord, or of his apostles, on
this deeply interesting, and important sub-
ject. Neither is there a word in the New
Testament, of the imputation of our sins
to our Lord, or of the imputation of his
righteousness to those who believe in him.
He that doeth righteousness, and he only,
is, or can be, righteous. But it is most
true, and worthy of all acceptation, that
our Lord died to redeem, or to deliver us
from all iniquity ; and to purify us unto
himself, a peculiar people, zealous of good
works. He died for us, because he loved
us ; and to manifest the love and mercy of
his Father, who sent him to bless us, by

321

turning us away, every one, from our in-
iquities. The death of our Lord, therefore,
is designed to be a means of our forgive-
ness, by bringing us to true repentance ;
and thus, cleansing our conscience from
dead works, to serve the living God ; by
exercising in our hearts a corresponding
love of God, and of our Saviour ; and by
exciting us to all the duty, to which he
calls us. In this view of it, the death of
our Lord operates for our redemption, or
the forgiveness of our sins, by its influence
in delivering us from the power of sin ;
and by forming us to the character, to
which he promises forgiveness, and the
happiness of heaven. And this influence
it will exert upon us, in proportion as we
feel our entire dependence on God's mercy,
for acceptance in the day of our account,
and for final blessedness. We fear not,
then, to bring these, and all the doctrines
of our religion, — let them but be derived
pure from the scriptures in which they
have come down to us, — to the test of
unperverted reason. Let passion, let
41

322

prejudice be repressed, and all the doc-
trines of Christ will have all the evidence
to our minds, which consistency with un-
questionable facts, with all that is known
of God, and with all that is known of our
own nature, can give to them.

Much errour has resulted from the idea,
that it was a design of revelation to teach
the metaphysical nature, and essence of
God. Hence, there has been as bold a
spirit of enterprise, and of adventure, in
the work of making discoveries in revela-
tion, as in any of the departments of
natural science ; and poor, short sighted
creatures, who know not in what consists
the vitality of a plant, have attempted to
fathom the depths of the infinite, and
eternal Mind. Alike fruitful too of errour
is the supposition, assumed as it has been,
as an elementary principle in reasoning
upon the subject, that it was a design of
the death of our Lord Jesus Christ, to
induce God, unwilling in himself, to the
exercise of compassion, and to the bestow-
ment of forgiveness. But so taught not

323

our Lord. All that had been revealed of
the divine character, will and purposes, he
takes for granted ; and reasons from it, as
known and established truth. The simple
unity of God ; his almighty power, and
perfect wisdom and goodness ; his moral
government of the world ; his design to
bless, and to reward the good, and to
punish the obdurately wicked ; and, his
placability, — his willingness to pardon the
penitent ; — these great doctrines, instead
of being columns in the christian church,
are, in fact, materials of its foundation.
Thus saith the Lord, the king of Israel, and
his Redeemer, the Lord of hosts ; I am the
first, and I am the last ; and beside me there
is no God. I am he that blotteth out thy
transgressions for mine own sake, and will
not reme7nber thy sins* Is it asked, then,
what are the peculiar doctrines of Chris-
tianity ? I answer, they are the doctrines,
that the knowledge and worship of the one
true God, which had been confined to

* Isaiah xliv. 6, and xliii. 20.

3^4

Judea, is to be made universal ; that
Jehovah is equally the God of the Gentiles,
as of the Jews ; and that he is to be wor-
shipped, not by oblations and sacrifices,
but in spirit, and in truth. And is it little
that we owe to Christianity, in its design
to spread the knowledge and worship of
the one true God, over the world? They
are the doctrines, that if we confess our
sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us
our sins, and to cleanse us from all unright-
eousness ; * and that, whosoever believeih on
the Son of God, and followeth him, hath
everlasting life.f The peculiar doctrines
of Christianity are to be sought, not in
new definitions of God, for our Saviour
has not given them ; nor in a division of
the divine nature into distinct persons, for
there is no such division in any of his
instructions concerning the Father ; nor, in
the notion, that God was, in himself, im-
placable, for it is not authorized by an
expression of the Old, or of the New

* I John i. 9. f John iii. 15, 18, 36; and viii. 12.

325

Testament. No. They are to be sought
in the abundant language of our Lord, and
of his apostles, concerning the underived
love of our Father in heaven, towards his
guilty family of man ; that love, which was
manifested, and proved, peculiarly by the
mission and instructions, the sufferings
and death of Christ, in the cause of our
salvation. They are to be sought, in the
instructions of our Lord and his apostles,
concerning that repentance y to which all
are called, to whom a knowledge of his
religion is extended. They are to be
sought, in all that we are taught in the
New Testament, concerning the christian
character; concerning the character of
heaven ; concerning the certainty, and the
principles, of the judgment that awaits us,
and all mankind ; the future, and tremen-
dous consequences of unrepented sin ; and
the unspeakable, the eternal felicity, prom-
ised to the penitent, — to the obedient.
Here, then, are appeals, not to speculative
philosophers, to whom religion is a mere
theory of faith, but, to men who would

326

reason of the concerns of their eternal
well-being. Here are instructions, suited
to the most exalted conceptions that can
be formed of God ; suited to our nature,
and condition ; suited to secure the im-
mortal happiness of all, who shall be
brought under their influence. And is not
this, we may boldly ask, a religion, which
has, in itself, a complete justification of all
the claims it can make upon us ?

From very early time, it has been the
folly, the guilt, and the misery of man, that
he has thought that he could improve
the revelations of God, by bringing them
into another form, than that in which it
pleased the Divine Being to give them ;
by making clear what God has left obscure ;
by obtaining, through a process of infer-
ence, what it has not pleased God to
teach ; and by establishing, what is called
order, and harmony, in his dispensations.
By this most daring presumption, our re-
ligion suffered greatly, even in the days of
the apostles. There were, even then,
those who thought that Christianity was

327

very imperfect, and defective, without the
rites of Judaism ; and others, that it re-
quired the prevailing principles of the
philosophy of the time, to make it alto-
gether worthy of God. Nor were there
wanting those, who thought that the very
rites of heathenism might be advanta-
geously appended to it, in view of its great
object, of bringing all to the acknowledg-
ment of its truth, and the observance of
its worship. And, when the New Testa-
ment, at the reformation, had been rescued
from its incarceration in the cells of monks,
and published in languages in which the
people of Christendom might read it, and
judge for themselves concerning religious
truth, and right, and duty; it was immedi-
ately, and strongly felt, that if the religion
of Christ were to be learned by the people
from the New Testament alone, they would
have no just conception of its design, and
no order, and consistency, in their faith.
It was felt, and feared, that these records
of the life and teaching of our Lord and
his apostles, might lead to errours in

328

opinion, which it was as desirable to prevent,
as it had been to escape from those, from
which the reformers themselves had but
just been emancipated. It was therefore
one of the first objects of the great agents
in the work of the reformation, to bring
the doctrines of these immethodical records
into a system ; and from that time to the
present, system has followed system, and
creed has been succeeded by creed, till
almost every variety, and contradiction of
opinion, has obtained, in one and another
of christian sects, the dignity of a christian
doctrine ; and has its advocates, who claim
for it the sanction of the authority of
Christ. Nay, such has been the ascend-
ancy, which these systems of human device
have obtained ; so extensively, in regard
to them, has the New Testament been
read, and studied ; so much has it been
the object of preaching to teach, and to
maintain them ; and so exclusively, with a
view to them, have a large part of the
churches of the christian world been
erected, and supported ; that few, com-

329

paratively, if asked, what are the great
characteristic doctrines of Christianity,
would think of referring immediately to
the New Testament for an answer. The
resort would rather be, to the peculiarities
of the sect to which they belong. But,
blessed be God ! a happier era has begun,
and is advancing. Not only is the right
of every individual acknowledged, to in-
quire for himself, what is christian doctrine ;
but the duty is also extensively felt, and
its corresponding obligations. The horizon
of Christendom is brightening everywhere
around us ; and our conviction is receiving
all the strength, which fact, as well as
promise, can give to it, that the grain of
mustard seed that was sown by the Son of
God, will become a tree, which will cover
the hills with its shadow ; which will send
forth its boughs unto the sea, and its
branches to the ends of the earth.

The last circumstance of Christianity

which I will mention, from which it derives

its distinctive character, and which justifies

all the claims it can possibly make upon

42

33°

us, is, that it meets, accounts for, and pro-
poses to accomplish, all the wants of our
immortal nature.

The wants of our immortal nature. Does
any one ask, what are they ? I answer,
they are the wants which this world never
satisfied, and never can satisfy. There are
indeed wants of our nature, which the
objects of this world, and the economy of
God's daily providence, were designed to
accomplish. But these are the wants which
we have in common with the creatures
below us. Deprive man of his rational,
and moral nature, and you prepare him, in
these objects, and in this economy, to find
satisfaction. It is found, by the creatures
that are without reason, and without a
moral nature. But improve reason, and
advance society in knowledge, and in arts,
and proportionally, you multiply wants;
you increase the impatience, the restless-
ness, and the dissatisfactions of want.
See how many, how craving, how impor-
tunate are the demands, even of the most
prosperous, whose hearts, and whose hopes,

33i

rise not above this world ! How many,
too, are the reverses, and the afflictions, in
which the heart implores consolation and
support, that the world cannot give ! See,
also, the wants of our immortal nature, as
they are shewn by the excited conscience
of an awakened sinner ! See them, as
they crowd upon one another, and contend
for utterance, when the feeling is brought
home with power, of the certainty, and the
nearness, of death ! Other religions, to
the extent to which they recognise these
wants, of course propose to meet, and to
supply them. But it is Christianity, and
Christianity alone, that penetrates to the
remotest depths of our nature, and accounts
for all its dissatisfaction with the objects
' of earth and time. It is Christianity alone
that enables us distinctly to understand,
what it is that the heart pants for, when it
would obtain what the world cannot give
us. It is Christianity alone that directs us
to the objects and ends, in which the soul
may find eternal satisfaction. And it is
Christianity alone that supplies the means,

33*

by which these objects and ends are to be
attained by us. Our religion, indeed, by
the new objects of happiness which it
reveals, has opened new fountains of de-
sire in every heart that receives it. But,
if it be suited to accomplish all the desires
of our nature, of which, otherwise, we
cannot obtain satisfaction, have we not, in
this peculiarity of it, a strong indication of
its truth ; and a vindication, not lightly to
be esteemed, of its claims upon our faith,
our affections, and our lives ?

It is surely a purpose, most worthy of a
dispensation from God, to solve the prob-
lem, which has ever baffled, and we have
reason to think, must forever have baffled
the unaided reason of man, why does dis-
appointment, dissatisfaction, and still in-
satiable want, lie at the end of every effort,
and of every course, in which man seeks for
happiness, in the possessions, and indul-
gences of this world?

Of the fact implied, no one will ask for
proof. It is enough to appeal to every
heart, if the most complete accomplishment

333

that was ever obtained of earthly hope,
was not soon, very soon, either followed
by disappointment ; or by new wants, as
restless, and as clamorous as those, the
satisfaction of which, it seemed, would fill
up the measure of desire? Why, then, is
it, that, of all the creatures of the earth,
man alone has wants, which earth and time
cannot satisfy ? Why, when we think that
we have obtained our object, does desire
soon derive ten-fold enlargement from pos-
session ; or satiated with fulness, turn from
it with aversion ? Seek an answer to these
inquiries in any other religion ; and, if it
teaches the doctrine of immortality, and
directs the faith and hopes of its believers
to another world, still, its most exalted
conception of immortal felicity, is in its
promise of an eternal gratification of our
present senses, appetites and passions.
Miserable expedient ! For, what are these
wants, which leave alike dissatisfied, the
miser amidst his hoards, and the prodigal
in his expenditures ? What are these wants,
which the most successful enterprise does

334

but inflame ; in the excitements of which,
ambition, like the grave, never says, it is
enough ; the disappointments of which are
daily seen, and felt, in the vexations and
resentments, of pride and vanity; which
prey upon the epicure, even while in the
enjoyment of his richest banquets ; and
which are the torture of the sensualist, in
the very fulness of what he thought would
be his highest delight ? Ask our religion,
what are these wants ? and it will tell you,
that they are the admonitions of God, that
this is not the place of our rest; that we
were created for infinitely higher interests,
and purer happiness. It will tell you, that
they are at once appointments of God for
our trial ; and the strivings of God, to
excite us to seek our happiness, where
alone it can be found, in Himself ; in the
love of perfect purity, and goodness, and
love ; in the exercises and ends of desire,
which will maintain the dominion of the
higher, over the lower faculties of our
nature ; and which will secure to us, in
the eternal improvement of these faculties,

335

joys, which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard,
and which it hath not entered into the mind
of man to conceive. See, then, how Chris-
tianity meets, and accounts for, this phe-
nomenon in the moral condition of man !
It teaches us, that these unsatisfied, and
insatiable wants, arise from our moral
nature ; from that nature, which allies us
to angels. It teaches us, that when we
are not happy, it is because we are seek-
ing for satisfaction, where God never in-
tended that we should find it. It teaches
us, that we cannot be happy, — that the
wants of our immortal nature cannot be
supplied, — till we feel, and strongly feel,
our relation to the great Author of our
being and affections, and fasten our desires
upon Himself, as our chief good. It comes
from that heaven to which it would exalt
us, to breathe into every soul that will
receive it, the very spirit of heaven. Say,
then, if God's moral providence be not
completely justified by our religion, in the
disappointments, and miseries, that result
from a reliance on passion, and the world,

336

for happiness? Will anything short of
the christian's heaven, fill up the measure
of our desires, and make our happiness
perfect, and eternal ?

My brethren, had our religion alone
established the certainty of an immortal
existence for man, I am ready to say, that
it would have done comparatively little.
But it has done, what it will not be pre-
tended has been done, by any other
religion. In the immortality which it
reveals, it has provided for wants, which
belong as essentially to our nature, as do
hunger and thirst ; which have been felt at
all times ; but which were never before
distinctly understood, because no other
religion had revealed the objects, which,
by fully meeting them, had enabled those
who felt, fully to explain them. They are
the wants which have caused men gladly
to embrace, and tenaciously to retain, even
the grossest superstitions, rather than be
without religion. I refer not alone to the
want of a guiding wisdom, and a protect-
ing power, superior to our own. Nor alone

337

to the universal desire, which has been
as unequivocally expressed, to penetrate
into the future ; to look beyond the grave ;
and, by every means to strengthen con-
viction, of the reality of the things hoped
for, in an eternal futurity. I refer to wants
of the heart ; of the affections. I refer to
the want of an object, or of objects, which
may be forever loved, and enjoyed, undis-
turbed by the opposition of rival passions;
and in the possession and love of which,
we may be forever secure of that progress,
in all that can exalt our nature, the very
capacity of which, is its highest glory. I
ask, then, if our religion, by the sentiments
it gives us of God ; by the views which it
opens to us of heaven ; by the new re-
lations into which it brings man at once to
his Maker, to his Saviour, to his fellow
creatures, and to the eternal world which
it reveals, has not given a direction to the
wants of our intellectual and moral nature,
in which, increase them in number as you
will, and enlarge each of them as you may,
every soul may obtain assurance of ultimate,

43

338

and perfect satisfaction ? Yes, darkened
as is the human mind by ignorance, and
depraved as is the heart by sin, it is still
the glory of our nature, to be capable of
indefinite, and eternal improvement. And
it is the glory of our religion, that it reveals
to its believers a state of existence, in
which all our capacities of eternal progress
and happiness, may be satisfied. It most
distinctly teaches us also, that the wants of
our hearts, to which all the objects of this
world are so disproportioned, were de-
signed for the very end, of raising our
affections to the things that are above, where
Christ sitteth at the right hand of God ;
of engaging us in the cares, which concern
our eternal interests ; of exciting us to
cultivate the principles and dispositions,
and to form the character and habits, which
will secure for us the approbation and love,
and the eternal service and enjoyment, of
God. These wants then, instead of being
evidences that our nature comes corrupted
from the hands of God, are his wise ap-
pointments for our trial, and preparation

339

for a better world. Let us but feel that
they belong to our immortal nature, and
let us seek for the satisfaction of them, in
our preparation for the christian's immor-
tality, and in their strongest excitement,
ours may be the language, and the feeling
of the apostle, as sorrowful, yet always
rejoicing ; as poor, yet making many rich ;
as having nothing, and yet, possessing all
things.

I cannot close this view of our subject,
without a yet more distinct reference to
a class of wants, for which satisfaction, or
even alleviation, can be found only in
religion ; and for which the gospel of Christ
makes that provision, which should fill
every heart with adoration and thanks-
giving. I mean, the wants that are felt by
an awakened sinner .

These are wants, which are known in
some degree under every form of religion ;
for they grow out of the convictions of the
just desert of sin, which are felt as exten-
sively, as the distinction is recognized
between moral good and evil. But, in its

340

new views of God, of duty, and of heaven,
Christianity gives us new views of sin, and
new sentiments of its deserts. And, per-
haps, more has not been sustained in this
world, than has been suffered by many ten
thousands in Christendom, in their strong
apprehensions of the judgment to come,
and their conviction of just exposure to
the condemnation of the impenitent. But,
while our religion excites sentiments, pe-
culiar to itself, of the guilt of disregarding,
and of disobeying God ; while it admon-
ishes us, that the punishment of the ob-
durately wicked will be of fearful duration,
and of a character to fill the heart with
horror of sin ; and, while it addresses every
individual of mankind as a sinner, and calls
every one to repentance ; still, its threaten-
ings, and every circumstance of it that is
intended to impress us with the guilt, and
danger, of transgressing its laws, not less
even than its commands and promises,
have the great design, of reclaiming us
from evil ; of securing our fidelity ; and
thus, of obtaining our salvation, God has

34i

not appointed us unto wrath ; but to obtain
salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ*
The unutterably glorious doctrine of the
gospel of the blessed God, is, it is a faith-
ful saying, and worthy of all acceptation,
that Christ Jesus came into the world, to
save siNNERS.f The threatenings of the
great Author of our faith, stand in our
religion, as buoys placed here and there
upon the shore of eternity, to admonish us
of the rocks, on which, if we are wrecked,
we are lost ; of the whirlpools into which,
if we are so far drawn as to be past recov-
ery, our misery will be just, and inevitable.
But what can an awakened sinner, who
would repent and return to God, desire,
which Christianity will not give to him, in
its free offers of forgiveness to all who will
forsake their sins ; in its provision of a
Mediator, an Advocate, an Intercessor for
sinners ; in its offers of divine assistance
to us, in the work of reformation ; and in
the glory, with which it promises to crown

* Thessalonians v. 9. f 1 Timothy i. 15.

342

our persevering endeavours to attain it?
The blood of Christ is at once the great
manifestation, and evidence, of his own
love for us ; and of the compassion, and
readiness to pardon, of the Father who
sent him. It is our sure pledge, that not
one hope, that is justified by his promises,
will ever be disappointed. Has not Chris-
tianity, then, combined in its character, all
that can commend it to our reason, to our
affections, and to our wants ?

In some of its means, in regard to the
universal dominion at which it aims, the
religion of Christ is indeed a scheme, as
yet but imperfectly comprehended by man.
It is to receive new, and greatly important
illustration, from events, the time, and
manner of accomplishing which, are known
only to God. As it is now seen in the
world, it is obscured by idle, and presumpt-
uous speculations ; corrupted by the addi-
tions which human ignorance has made to
it ; perverted by prejudices ; opposed by
evil passions ; and abused to the very
purposes, which it would utterly repress in

343

every heart. We see it, broken up into
sects ; and assuming as many forms, and
distinctive traits of character, as have the
great parties, into which Christendom is
divided. So, it may be, it has yet long to
suffer. But, let us be animated by the
assurance, that it will overpower all resist-
ance, scatter all darkness, subdue all evil
passions, and fill the earth with the knowl-
edge, and the glory of God. Let this
conviction be our confidence ; and, in the
strength of it, let us watch and pray, that
we may ourselves be found worthy in the
day of the Lord. Sooner will heaven and
earth pass away, than one word will fail
which our God and Father has spoken unto
us by his Son.

This, my friends, is the religion, that
claims the ministry, which we have this
day established here, according to the
institution of Christ. Ours is, therefore,
emphatically, a ministry of reconciliation.
It is a part of that glorious economy, by
which God is designing to renew the moral
world ; to make every heart a temple of

344

his holy spirit ; to prepare his moral off-
spring on earth, for immortal felicity in
heaven. I hardly need to say then, what
the Christian Ministry should be ; what it
must be, in order to the accomplishment of
its unspeakably important ends.

The model of a minister of Jesus should
be, Jesus himself. Let us then, in the
exercise of our ministry, look always to
him as our great example. To a great
extent, Christianity is still struggling
against the same passions, and the same
interests, which it had to resist in the days
of our Lord, and his apostles ; and its
claims upon us can be satisfied by nothing
less, than the devotion of our whole hearts,
and our whole lives, to its objects ; by a
purity of character, an activity of benevo-
lence, and a never ceasing zeal, in which it
shall be seen, and felt, that the spiritual
good, the greatest christian improvement,
and the eternal salvation of those for whom
we are appointed to labour, are always
paramount in our minds. It claims of us,
that wre watch for souls as they that must

345

give account. It claims of us, that deep
feeling of the greatness, and the holiness
of its objects, which will make us willing
to spend, and to be spent in its service ;
which will make us instant in season, and
out of season ; which will make us alive to
God, through Jesus Christ ; alive to the
feeling, that he who converteth a sinner
from the errour of his ways, will save a
soul from death, and hide a multitude of
sins. Do we feel that we are but poor,
feeble, unworthy instruments ? So should
we feel, to excite us continually to seek
our sufficiency from God ; for indeed,
without him, we are nothing. But, blessed
will be that servant, whom his Lord, when
he cometh, shall find so doing !

My dear friend and brother,

Deeply affected as I know you are, with
a sense of the responsibility of the office
with which you are this day invested, I
hardly need to urge upon you the claims
of our religion. But, you cannot feel
them too strongly. You cannot have them
44

346

too constantly before you. Favourable as
are the circumstances, under which you
enter upon the ministry in this place, you
will find that, for the attainment of its
objects, all the solicitude of your heart will
be demanded ; all the earnestness, and
vigilance, and labour, of which you are
capable. To satisfy these claims, let your
application be incessant to the Source of
all wisdom, for guidance, and for strength.
If you will be a faithful minister, you will
have difficulties to encounter, not alto-
gether unlike those of the master, to whom
you have given yourself. May the dis-
tinctive character of our religion be faith-
fully maintained in your preaching, and
illustrated in your life ! May you be the
honoured instrument of bringing many, to
the faith and obedience of the Son of God ;
of bringing many to glory, and honour,
and immortality ! Be faithful to every
individual. Be faithful unto death. And,
may the Lord give you the reward of a
faithful servant !

347

Brethren of this religious society,

You have this day acknowledged one of
the great claims of our religion, in the
establishment you have made of the min-
istry which it has appointed. But permit
me to say to you, that the demands of
Christianity extend far beyond the main-
tainance of its ordinances. Its demands
are as great, even as its promises. It
claims the best exercise of your reason
upon its doctrines, and its duties ; upon its
immediate and its final purposes. It claims,
not only an interest in your affections, but
the possession of them ; the unreserved
control of all their exercises. It claims the
renovation of your heart from all that is
unchristian in it ; your entire subjection to
the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning
you ; and your faithfulimprovement, under
a sense of your responsibility for them, of
all the means of forming a christian char-
acter, and of preparation for an inheritance
of the christian's reward. If the world is
to be made better than it now is ; if vice is
to be corrected, knowledge promoted,

348

character raised, and happiness advanced,
it must be by the extension of the influence
of our religion ; and it is a law of God's
moral providence, that each one who be-
lieves the gospel, should act in the cause
of its advancement. Acknowledge then,
my friends, and satisfy its claims, by an
unreserved dedication of yourselves to God,
through his Son ; by the consecration to
him of your families ; by your daily prayers,
and ready efforts, and cheerful sacrifices,
for the interests of the church ; by culti-
vating enlarged christian sympathies ; and
by your supreme regard to God's accept-
ance, in every desire, and in every pursuit
of life. In these claims of our religion,
see the ends of its ministry. They are the
interests of your everlasting life with God,
and Christ, and holy spirits in heaven. In
the services of this house, may you, and
may our children, find increasing light,
and strength, and encouragement, and
comfort, and peace ! May you have cause
to look back with gratitude on the transac-
tions of this hour, when you shall stand at

349

the judgment seat of Christ ; and may the
ministry of this our beloved brother, be to
you for exceeding joy, through the ages of
eternity!

AMEN !

THE CHARGE,

BY REV. JAMES KENDALL,
OF PLYMOUTH.

My dear brother,

You have already devoted yourself,
and you have this day been publicly con-
secrated by prayer and the imposition of
hands to the sacred work of the Christian
Ministry. You are now to receive the
Charge from the Churches, which we
represent. We claim by this service no
dominion of your faith. We make no
pretension to any authority to communi-
cate spiritual or miraculous gifts, or powers.
We assume no superiority of rights or
privileges. We are not of the number,
nor, we trust, of the temper and character
of those who would say to any religious

35i

denomination, or to any individual chris-
tian, Stand by thyself; come not nigh unto
us ; for we are holier than thou. One is
our Master, even Christ : And one is our
Father, who is in heaven ; and all we are
brethren.

But as elder brethren, who have laboured
a little longer in the faith and patience of
Jesus Christ, we may be permitted to re-
mind you of some of the duties, which
from your pastoral office will devolve upon
you ; the trials to which you may be called ;
and the temper and character necessary
and proper for you to cherish and main-
tain, in order to discharge acceptably these
duties, and endure as becometh a servant
of the Lord the trials that await you. What
we have to suggest on this occasion is
implied in the Apostolic injunction ; — Take
heed to thyself; and to thy doctrine; and
to the flock over which the Churches by
the authority of the Holy Ghost, have now
made thee an overseer. In the spirit and
language of this inspired injunction, there-
fore, and with the sympathies of brethren,

352

you will bear with us, while we intreat and
charge thee to

Take heed to thyself. Not only your
personal satisfaction and comfort, but your
success and usefulness as a religious
teacher and the good influence of your
example will greatly depend, under God,
on the attention you pay to your own
heart and life. No man, whatever may
be the station he is called to fill, can hope
to be respected and honoured by others,
if he feel no respect for, and pay no
regard to himself. But the office you
now hold is a sacred and an elevated
one. It ought, therefore, to be magnified ;
and magnified by cultivating the christian
temper ; by cherishing and manifesting a
christian spirit, and by portraying to the
life the christian character. You are a city
set upon a hill for the world to gaze at, for
curiosity to pry into, and for bigotry and
fanaticism to sit in judgment upon. Take
heed that it be not stained by moral defile-
ment ; that it be not disfigured by any
fictitious ornament ; that there be nothing

353

either within or without that shall offend
the eye or the taste of the most pure and
pious observer. Never suffer your mind
to be corrupted from the simplicity that is
in Christ. Sanctify the Lord God in your
heart ; — having a good conscience, that,
whereas they should speak evil of you, as
of an evil doer, they may be ashamed that
falsely accuse your good conversation in
Christ. Keep thyself pure. Let no man
despise thee.

To the purity and dignity that belong to
the pastoral office, add the meekness and
humility, the gentleness and condescen-
sion, that were exemplified by our great
High Priest, who has passed into the
heavens. Beware of that austerity of
manner and that gloominess of deport-
ment, which would leave the impression,
that religion must never be named nor
11 approached, but with an altered tone, and
a disfigured face." Let it be seen by your
own example, that there is nothing for-
bidding in her attire, nothing stern, but to
profligacy and vice, in her address ; nothing

45

354

unsocial in her intercourse with mankind.
There may be cheerfulness without levity,
and sobriety without moroseness. If you
put on the Lord Jesus Christ you will be
clothed with humility, and your adorning
will be that of the hidden man of the
heart, even the ornament of a meek and
quiet spirit, which in the sight of God is of
great price. Perfect yourself in that most
important gift, an aptness to teach, con-
nected with patience and meekness in
instructing those who are slow to learn,
and slower to believe, resisting the truth
and opposing themselves. Keep the ex-
ample of Christ always before you, and
follow his steps. If you are reviled, learn
of him not to revile again. If you are
called to suffer for righteousness' or truth's
sake, threaten not ; but commit yourself
and the cause to Him who judgeth right-
eously. Be thou an example of the be-
lievers in word, in conversation, in charity,
in spirit, in faith, in purity.

Again, take heed to thy doctrine. Let
your instructions be drawn from the foun-

355

tain of light and truth, the revelation of
God. Employ all the means with which
you are favoured, and all the powers you
possess for coming unto the knowledge of
the truth. Endeavour to discriminate be-
tween what is taught by the inspiration of
God, and those corrupt appendages, which
ignorance, or prejudice, or superstition has
incorporated with it ; between what was
applicable to the condition and circum-
stances of the people in the time of the
apostles, and what was designed to apply
to mankind in all ages. Beware of teach-
ing for doctrine the commandments of
men. Let the word of God be the stand-
ard, and test, and limit of your religious
inquiries. Be not wise above what is
written. But imagine not that the science
of theology alone, of all the sciences, has
come to a stand : That while the human
mind is advancing and improving in every
other region of thought, no further prog-
ress is to be made in searching out the
treasures of wisdom and knowledge, that
are laid up in the gospel : That all the

356

light and truth contained in the sacred
volume were unfolded and imparted to the
uninspired men, who lived in the darkest
and most corrupt age of the christian
church. Spiritual light like the natural,
shineth brighter and brighter unto the
perfect day. If therefore you would grow
in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord
and Saviour Jesus Christ, keep your mind
open to all the light and truth that shall at
any time break forth from the written word
of God.* Omit no doctrine merely be-
cause it is old, and keep back none because
it appears to be new, provided it be found
in the word, and taught by the authority
of God, and be necessary and profitable
for instruction in righteousness, and for
perfecting your charge in the christian
temper and life. Aim to make your
hearers wise, and good, and happy, rather
than able disputants or expert theologians.
Be more solicitous to impart light to their
understandings, and grace and truth to

* See Mr. Robinson's charge to the Plymouth Church.

357

their hearts, than to entertain them with
unintelligible or enigmatical propositions,
which you are unable to explain, and they
to comprehend. The way of holiness is
represented as an highway, so plain and so
direct, that way-faring men, though fools,
need not err therein. Let all your preach-
ing, therefore, have a practical tendency,
that your hearers may be made perfect,
thoroughly furnished unto every good
work. We do not charge you to preach
the doctrines of the Reformation any far-
ther than you find them, on a careful ex-
amination to accord with the word of God.
But we do enjoin upon you to adhere
without wavering or doubting to the great
principles of Protestantism, the sufficiency
of the holy scriptures, and the right of
private judgment in the interpretation of
them. The authority of God the Father,
and of Jesus Christ the Son of the Father,
is paramount to all other authority ; and
the doctrine delivered by the anointed Son
and Messenger of the most high God,
ought to be declared by his ministering

358

servants, whether mankind hear, or whether
they forbear. Every ambassador of Jesus
Christ, as well as every other rational
being, must give an account of himself and
of his stewardship to God. He must be
saved by his own faith, and not by the
faith of his brethren. It is, therefore, a
right and privilege, which the author of
his being has given him, to judge of him-
self what the word of God teaches, and be
fully persuaded in his own mind, if he
would know and declare all the counsel of
God. This right we charge you to claim
and maintain, as being alone accountable
to the God of truth for the exercise of it ;
and never to demand of others a sacrifice,
which your Lord does not require of you.
Never render applicable to yourself the
pointed interrogatory of the apostle : Who
art thou that judgeth another man's ser-
vant ? To his own Master he standeth or
falleth. Stand fast, therefore, in the lib-
erty wherewith Christ hath made us free ;
and be not entangled again in the yoke of
bondage.

359

Once more : Take heed to the flock
over which thou art placed as an overseer.
Watch over it with the vigilance, and kind-
ness, and tenderness of the good Shepherd.
Feed the sheep, and feed the lambs. Feed
them with food adapted to their respective
age and character ; but always with knowl-
edge and understanding. Let your doc-
trine drop as the rain, and your speech
distil as the dew. Beware lest they sub-
stitute something for religion, in which it
has little or no concern. There is no
substitute for personal righteousness or
holiness. Press upon them the consider-
ation, that without rational faith, and sin-
cere repentance, and obedience to the
truth, there is no acceptance with God —
no ground to hope for an interest in the
forgiving mercy of heaven. The design
of Christianity, and of all our Lord did and
taught, and suffered, was to bless mankind
in turning them away from their iniquities.
If this design be accomplished in them,
the blessing is secured. But, if this be-
nevolent purpose of God be frustrated

360

through their own perverseness, they will
fail of an interest in his grace, and forfeit
the promised blessing.

With regard to christian ordinances, they
are to be administered to the proper sub-
jects ; and of their qualifications for the
enjoyment of these ordinances you are to
be the judge. But take heed that you^ do
not set up any condition for admission to
these ordinances, which are not warranted
by the word of God. In nothing perhaps,
have the churches more widely departed
from apostolic practice, than in what re-
lates to the observance of the ordinances
of the gospel. Too much has been re-
quired by those within, and too little regard
paid to these ordinances by those without
the pale of the church. The christian
world, with respect to them, seem to have
lost sight of the simplicity that there is in
Christ. The ordinance of baptism, we
think, is to be administered to believers
and their infant seed ; and to be admin-
istered on the profession of the parents'
faith in the Son of God. This is the

361

outward sign or token of their covenant
relation to God. It introduces them into
the school of Christ, where they are taught
to observe all things whatsoever he has
commanded. The Lord's Supper is among
the means of building them up in faith and
holiness, and fitting them for the enjoy-
ment of the saints* inheritance in light ;
and is to be administered to all who be-
lieve in him as the promised Messiah, the
anointed Son of God ; who appear to love
him in sincerity ; and who desire to do
whatsoever he has commanded. Beyond
this, we have no authority, and can exer-
cise no judgment ; but must leave the rest
to the great Searcher of hearts, who has
appointed a day and the method for sep-
arating the tares from the wheat, and
assigning to each their respective portion.
In presiding in the church, the apos-
tolic injunction is, not to lord it over God's
heritage. The servant of the Lord must
not strive, but be gentle to all men. Re-
claim the wanderer, and them that are out
of the way, if possible, by kindness and
46

362

tenderness, and a due consideration of
their weaknesses, and frailties, and temp-
tations. Break not the bruised reed.
Quench not the almost expiring taper.
But, where the vital spark is not extin-
guished, carefully nourish, and feed, and
rekindle it to a flame — not a flame that will
consume ; but warm, and cheer, and com-
fort. Be wise to win souls.

And the things that thou hast heard of
us among many witnesses, the same com-
mit thou to faithful men, who shall be able
to teach others also. Lay hands suddenly
on no man. And do not hastily defraud a
people of their rights by withholding your
sanction from the man of their choice, and
peradventure, a man after God's own heart.
Insist not as a condition of your counte-
nance and assistance in the settlement of
a young minister, on an explicit avowal of
those abstruse, speculative opinions, which
have long divided the christian world, and
about the correctness of which, the ablest
and best divines, who have laboured long-
est in the pursuit of truth, have been less

363

confident at the close, than at the com-
mencement of their inquiries. If there be
competent abilities and qualifications for
the sacred work, and a heart devoted to
the service of God, with a determination
to follow the path of light and truth marked
out by the gospel, bid him God speed, and
let him go on his way, diligent in the pur-
suit of christian knowledge, and rejoicing
in the discovery of christian truth.

And now, my brother, be strong in the
Lord and in the power of his might. Be
of good courage, and he shall strengthen
thine heart. Watch thou in all things ;
endure afflictions ; do the work of an
evangelist ; make full proof of thy Min-
istry. And when the time of your de-
parture is at hand, may you be able in the
language of victory and triumph to say, /
have fought a good fight, I have finished
my course ', I have kept the faith ; henceforth
there is laid up for me a crown of right-
eousness, which the Lord, the righteous
Judge shall give me at that day.

RIGHT HAND OF FELLOWSHIP.

BY REV. SAMUEL J. MAY,
OF BROOKLYN, CONN,

You are now, my Brother, regularly
inducted to the Gospel Ministry. It is not
pretended that by Ordination any mys-
terious gifts are conferred ; but this is not
therefore an unmeaning ceremony. The
design of Ordination is, to impress deeply
upon the pastor and his flock, the impor-
tant purposes and corresponding duties of
their union, thus publicly solemnized. As
high as heaven is above the earth, so high
are the objects, which this union contem-
plates, above all secular concerns. The
relation of ministers and people is, beyond
any other, holy, solemn, tender. It is
spiritual. It has nothing to do with sense

365

and time, but to counteract their influence.
It has nothing to do with the passions and
evil propensities of men, but to subject
them to the laws of God. It is a relation,
the influence of which, on character and
happiness, will remain, when the world
shall be no more.

By the connexion you have now formed
with this people, your and their eternal
interests will be deeply affected. They
have chosen you to be their Pastor, trust-
ing that you will "nourish them with sub-
stantial and salutary food ; that you will
lead them into green pastures and beside
the still waters, and not to thirsty plains
or the barren wilderness/' They have put
themselves under you as their guide, trust-
ing that you know the way to eternal life.
What a trust ! Should you be unfaithful,
my brother, how apalling the consequences
will be ! In shame and confusion you will
stand before the great Shepherd, with the
flock he has committed to your charge,
famished and unfit to be admitted into his
fold.

366

It is the part of brotherly love thus to
put you in remembrance of these things,
(though you know them) that you may
stir up all the gifts of God which are in
you, to the faithful discharge of the min-
istry you have received. And now that,
in behalf of this Council, I give you the
Right Hand of Fellowship, I do it as a
pledge that we will continue to shew you
this and other proofs of our brotherly love.
We request from you a return of the same.
We claim no pre-eminence, no authority
over you. You are entirely our equal.
Christ only is our master ; all we are
brethren ; and we need each others counsel
and aid, and sympathy, and prayers. What
should make us thus "kindly affectioned,"
one to another, if not the nature, the im-
portance and the difficulties of the work,
in which we are fellow-labourers. Shall
we who are to herald forth that gospel,
which proclaims peace on earth, good will
to men, shall we be unfriendly, conten-
tious? We, who are to teach a religion,
whose essence is love, shall we have none

367

of that spirit, which suffereth long, and is
kind ? We, who have engaged to defend
and to forward that cause in which Christ
died, shall we allow differences of opinion
on points of minor consequence to alienate
our affections, produce dissension, and by
dividing, enfeeble our efforts, all of which
united would be scarcely worthy their
object ? O ! what disgrace has already
been brought upon the name we bear !
How has Christ been put to open shame,
yes, crucified afresh by the sectarism and
bigotry of his professed disciples ! Those
doctrines, about which Christians have ever
been divided, are allowed even by their
warmest advocates to be mysterious ; that
is to say, not fully revealed. If then God,
who is infinitely wise and good, has seen
fit to leave these subjects still in obscurity,
"what high presumption, what a rude en-
croachment on the province of God it is"
for one man to dictate to another what he
is to believe respecting them ! Yet such
has been, and such still is the presumption
of many fallible mortals. Excommunication

368

and anathema have been hurled at those
who have dared, however impelled by con-
viction, to dissent from the popular faith ;
and he has lived in a happy age, or a happy
country who, guilty of such offence, has
escaped the dungeon, the rack or the fag-
got. It is on different principles, the
principles of Protestant liberty- — it is with
the acknowledgment of our common falli-
bility, and with the purpose of mutual
improvement, that we welcome you to the
liberal studies as well as the arduous
labours of our holy profession. We wel-
come you not as the dictators, but as the
helpers and partners of your faith and joy.
We "bid you God speed" in the sacred
paths of religious inquiry and christian
duty. Goon then, following "the Bible,
the Bible only" as your guide, however it
may lead you to dissent from the confes-
sions of Assemblies and the systems of
those who have denominated half the
christian world. What is it to you and
me, that Calvin and Socinus believed one
thing or another ? The great inquiry with

369

us is, what doth Christ teach ? and we
should be so absorbed in this inquiry, that
it would be pardonable in us to forget that
Calvin and Socinus ever lived. They were,
it is true, great men, and deserve our re-
spect, but cannot claim any submission to
their authority. They were no more than
men, imperfect, fallible men, liable to be
warped by prejudice, to be blinded by
passion, and driven to extremes. Besides
which, they lived at the time when Chris-
tianity was just awaking from the slumber
of ages. That long, dark night was not dis-
pelled at once by a morning of unclouded
brightness. Ignorance and superstition
were not succeeded at once by correct
views of God and religion. No — very
much is yet to be done before "the truth
as it is in Jesus/4 unadulterated by any
human admixtures, will prevail in the
world. But there is a vast deal more
knowledge in the present age than there
was at the period of the Reformation.
Then, the Scriptures were just brought to
light. Ever since then, they have been

47

37o

the subject of more research and profound
investigation than any or all other books.
Ought we therefore to go back three hun-
dred years to Calvin and Socinus and
inquire what these scriptures teach ? This
surely would be the height of folly, unless
we believe they were inspired men. We
have no reason to believe this. Therefore
let us not assent implicitly or too readily
to their opinions. But let us gladly avail
ourselves of the labours of the wise and
good at and since the time of the Reform-
ation, and in the light of their researches,
let us press on to the simple and majestic
truth.

In this glorious pursuit, we ought each
to encourage and animate the other, by
freely communicating the results of our
own study and reflection. We should thus
afford reciprocal aid in the detection of
errour and the solution of difficulties. Why
should there be the least reserve or jealousy
on this subject ? An amicable discussion
would often result in mutual concessions
and a union of sentiment. Discussion

37i

always will be amicable when we duly re-
spect each others rights. Let us then
never, my brother, never for a moment in-
dulge the wish to coerce assent to our
opinions. Though we may feel sure they
are correct, we may be mistaken. Others,
wiser and better than we are, have been
thus mistaken, and surely he is deluded,
who deems himself exempt from the frailties
incident to humanity. As brethren, we
may and ought to point out and endeavour
to rectify each others errours ; but this
should always be done in the spirit of
charity, which thinketh no evil, and in the
spirit of meekness, remembering that we
also may often err.

Having very lately myself experienced
the solemn impressions and tender solici-
tude, which are awakened by an occasion
like this, I do sympathise with you sin-
cerely. We have commenced, my brother,
the most important era of our lives. We
have entered into the most solemn en-
gagements ; and the labours, the trials and
responsibilities that lie before us, seem to

372

say "who is sufficient for these things?"
Let us be fervent in spirit, for we are to
serve the Lord. Let us be instant in
prayer, for we need his grace. God is ever
near and ever ready to enlighten our
ignorance, to strengthen our weakness,
and to have mercy upon us. Amidst the
trials and privations to which we may be
called in this world of darkness and sin,
let us not faint or be weary in well doing,
for we shall soon leave this for that far
better world, where pure and kindred
spirits will be happily united forever ;
where we shall be continually advancing
to perfection ; where prejudice and passion
will not mislead us ; where we shall see
what here we cannot see, and know what
here we cannot know ; where we shall
pursue our contemplations without inter-
ruption or perplexity ; where we shall
reason without errour, and labour without
fatigue.

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