Sermons by the Reverend George Buist, D. D. : minister of the Presbyterian Church and President of the College of Charleston, South Carolina

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SERMONS

BY THE

jREYERENJE) GEOjRGE BUIST^ JD)« B.

MINISTER OF THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
AND PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE

CHARLESTON, SOUTH-CAROLINA

[N TWO VOLUMT.S.

VOL. II.

,YEW-YORK.

PRINTED FOR E. SARGEANT, OPrOSITE TRINIl Y CHVIU H.

Jhj J), a^ G. Bruce.

)809,

CONTENTS

OF VOLUME n.

SERMON I.

On the extraordinaiy perfections of Christ as a teacher.
John, chap. 7, verse A6....jyev€r man s^iake like this many 1

SERMON II.

The state of humility, in wliich Christ appeared on earth,
perfectly fitted to the discharge of his duties as a me-
diator, and a source of comfort and joy to his discipies.

Mattliew, chap. 13, verse 55, 56..../* not this the carfien-
ter*s son ? Is not his mother called Mary ? And his
brethren James^ and J^ses, and Simon^ and Judas ? And
his sisters^ are they not all with us ? Whence then
hath this man all these things ? And they were offended
in him^ IT

SERMON III.— PART I.

The character of Christ considered under the allegory
of a shepherd ; his pastoM care to embrace and gather
in all nations to his fold.

John, chap. 10, verse 16 4nd other sheep, I have which

are not of this fold ; them also I must brings and they
shall hear my voice ; and there shall be one fold and
ene shepherdj 34

iv CONTENTS.

SERMON IV.— PART II.

The same subject continued, 51

SERMON v.— PART I.

On the holy sacrament of the Lord's supper.
Luke, chap. 22, verse \5....With desire I have desired to
eat this passover with you., before I suffer^ , ... 69

SERMON VL—PART II.

On the holy sacrament of the Lord's supper.
Luke, chap. 22, verse \5....With desire I have desired to
eat this jiassoverivithyouy before I suffer^ .... 90

SERMON VII.

On charity : the obligations, sanctions and tnotives to the

discharge of its numerous duties.
1 Corin. chap. 14, verse L...i^o//ow«/irer c/zanVy, . . n^

SERMON VIII.

On meekness: its nature and great excellence in the

sight of God,
Psalm 25, verse 9.,.,Thejneek will he guide in judgment ;

and the meek will he teach his ivay., 137

SERMON IX.

On the character of the saints ; the providence and fa-
vour of God peculiarly exercised towards them in the
hour of death.

Psalm 116, verse \6.„.Precious in the sight of the Lord

i^ the death of his saints, » . 163-

CONTENTS. 1^

SERMON X.

The goodjiess and power of Christ, manifested by hi5>
works on earth, conclusive proofs of his divine nature.

John, chap. 9, verse 32.... Since the ivorld began was it
not heard that any man aliened the eyes of one that was
born blind^ 178

SERMON XI.

On the duty of holding the righteous in remembrance,
and the important advantages derived from the recol-
lection of their virtues.

Psalm 122, verse 6. ...The righteous shall be in everlas-
ting reme?nbrance-, 194

SERMON XII.

On tlie caution necessary to be observed in our censure

of others.
Matthew, chap. 7, verse \.... Judge not^ that ye be Jiot

judged, 220

SERMON XIII.— PART I.

On the divine origin of the Christian religion.

Acts, chap. 5, verse 38, o9.... Refrain from these ?nen,
and let them alone ; for if this council, or this work be
of men, it will come to nought. But if it be of God,
ye cannot overthrow it ; lest hazily ye be found even to
fight against God, 337

SERMON XIV.— PART II.

On the divine origin of the Christian religioir.

vl CONTENTS.

Refrain from these men, and let them alone if or if this
council', or this luork be ofmen^it will come to nought.
But if it be God, ye cannot overth'onait ; lest haply ye
be found even tofght against God, 355

SERMON XV.
On duelling.

Putuji again thy snuord into his place ; for all they who
take the sword shall perish with the sword, . . . 273

MORNING AND EVENING PRAYERS

Used at the Orphan-House, Charleston, S. C. composed
by the Rev. Dr. Buist, for the use of the orphans in
that institution, ..,,... = .... 317

SERMON I.

On the extraordinary perfections of Christ as a
teacher.

John, Chap. 7, Verse 46.
" Never man spake like this man."

Jesus Christ is, in every respect, the most
wonderful personage that ever appeared upon
the theatre of the world. The personal gran-
deur of his character, the Innocence of his
life, the noble generosity of his actions, the se-
verity of his sufferings, the sublimity and wis-
dom of his discourses and instructions, taken
either separately or in connection, have never
been equalled In the history of mankind. In
him we behold the Deity made flesh and dwel-
ling among men. In him we see a man, holy,
harmless, undcfiled, and separate from sin-
ners. In him we admire a great philanthro-
pist continually going about doing good. In

VOL. II. B

2 SERMON I,

him we see a martyr suffering in the best of
causes and with unexampled fortitude and re-
signation. In him we Usten to a great teach-
er speaking as never man spake — declaring
truths of infinite importance, in a manner the
most admirably adapted to the understanding
of his hearers, with infinite wisdom and irre-
sistible persuasion.

Such a bright constellation of excellencies
dazzles the sight, and can only be viewed
separately and in detail. The text, (which is
not the language of encomium, or the pane-
gyric of a friend, but the confession of his
enemies, extorted by the irresistible force of
truth,) leads us to rnnslder him as a publick
teacher, and to point out his great superiority,
not only to the philosophers and orators of
ancient heathenism, but also to all the former
messengers and prophets of the Most High.
And the truth of the assertion of the oflficers
in the text will fully appear, if we consider
the ijiatier, the maimer, and the effect of out
Saviour's preachings, and shew that never man
spake truths of such importance — never man
spake in such a manner — never man spake
with such authoritr/ and power.

These three things constitute the excellence

SERMON I. 3

of every discourse : that the matter be im-
portant and worthy of attention ; that the
manner be interesting, well adapted to the
subject, and suited to the hearers — and lastly,
that the intended effect may be produced, and
a due impression made on the audience.

I. The matter of our Saviour's discourses is
superiour to that of any other teacher either
heathen or Jew ; for none of them ever de-
clared truths of such infinite importance to the
world.

The subject matter of our Saviour's dis-
courses comprehends either such things as had
been handled by former teachers, or such
things as wtre allu^cthcr new, and of which
the world are indebted to him for the discov-
ery. Many things indeed had engaged the
attention of former teachers, which were alto-
gether below his notice, which were too tri-
fling to consume one moment of his precious
time. For this purpose came he into the
world, '' that he might bear witness unto the
^* truth," — not to indulge in the false glosses and
absurd commentaries of the scribes and pha-
risees, the quibbles of the sophist, the vain
conceits of the philosopher, the profane bab-
blings and oppositions of science falsely so

4 SERMON I.

called. The most finished compositions of
ancient times treat of subjects comparatively
mean and insignificant : the rise and fall of
states and empires, the debates of a faction, the
petty interests and competitions of the present
life. Jesus came with a message of infinitely
greater extent and importance. He was in
truth theoratour of the human race — his dis-
courses were big with the fate of all mankmd.
He performed a work and declared truths
which were devised before the foundations of
the earth were laid, and which reached into the
remotest ages of eternity. The ancient phi-
losophers and oratours had chiefly in view the
display of then own ulents, or of the powers
of their art. Jesus sought only to deliver
truths useful and instructive to his hearers.
Their lectures were employed in inquiring
into the origin of all things, in describing the
courses of the planets, the laws of the material
world, the properties of an animal or a plant.
Such barren speculations were foreign to the
design of our Saviour*s mission — he had a
grander and more profitable object in view,
even to make men wise unto salvation, to
teach them to be pious and virtuous and
happy.

SERMON I. 5

Even where he happened to tread in the same
path with others, he improved so much upon
his predecessors that he is justly entitled to the
praise of an original. The existence and attri-
butes of God, for instance, had been previously
discussed by the Heathen philosophers and the
Jewish lawgiver. But none of ihem spake
on this subject like Jesus of Nazaretb. The
polytheism of the ancients ; the imperfections
and even shocking vices which they ascribed
to their imaginary deities, make them unwor-
thy of comparison. The errours of the heathen
indeed, were excluded from the Jewish sys-
tem. Moses taught expressly the unity of
God, " Hear now, O Israel, the Lord your
^^ God is one Lord." But the ritual service
which he prescribed, represented the Deity
rather in a corporeal light ; the severity of his
laws obscured the Divine benignity ; the terrour
accompanying their delivery inspired fear ra-
ther than hope. How just and sublime were
the words of Jesus on this subject. ** God is
** a spirit, and they that worship him must
*' worship him in spirit and in truth. He
'* maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the
^* good, and sendeth rain on the just and on
** the unjust. God so loved the world that he

6 SERMON I.

^' crave his only begotten Son, that whosoever
^* believeth on him might not perish but have
" everlasting life."

The same superiority is discernible in the
moraUty of Jesus. How much more pure,
perfect, and certain than the vague specula-
tions of the heathen moralists ? How much
more extensive and universal than the cere-
monial system of the Jews ? Above all, how
much more powerful motives did he furnish
for the discharge of the duties which he com-
manded ?

Thus did Jesus improve upon every subject
which he handled ; thus did he far outstrip all
who had gone before him in what related to
God, to morals, and to a future life. But this
is not all. Many doctrines were taught by
the Saviour of the world which no ear had ever
heard and no human heart had ever conceived.
Among these we may rank the doctrine of his
own divinity ; the mystery of his own incar-
nation and assumption of our nature ; his ap-
pearance in a world overspread with misery
and vice, to proclaim pardon and peace in this
life, and everlasting happiness in the future,
to all who with penitent hearts and true faith
returned unto him ; his humiliation, sufferings

SERMON I. 7

and death In our room ; his victory over death
by virtue of his atoning sacrifice, and lils bring-
ing life and immortaUty to light. These are
the great things of which Christ spake ; these
were the amazing topicks which filled his dis-
courses. Who ever uttered such things ? who
ever presumed to raise their thoughts to mys-
teries so grand and sublime ? Without contro-
versy great and unequalled is the mystery of
godliness : God was manifest in the flesh,
justified in the Spirit, seen of Angels, preached
unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world,
received up into glory.

II. The manner in which our Saviour spake
was equally incomparable with the matter of
which he treated. Under this head, I do not
mean to assert that Jesus was a most consum-
mate oratour in the common acceptation of the
word ; that he was a perfect master of the
rules of art ; and that he knew how to employ
to the best advantage the various tropes and
figures of rhetorick. Were it indeed a circum-
stance of much importance, or in which there
was room for exultation, it would be easy to
shew that the sacred writings afford specimens
altogether unrivalled in every species of com-
position.

8 SERMON 1.

But Jesus, though he had formed the mind
of man, and knew every human art and science
better than the most enhghtened oratour or phi-
losopher, yet he used not the arts of eloquence
and the flowers of hmguage as necessary aids
to his instruction. He spake with a simphcity,
gravity, and dignity well suited to the character
of the speaker, to the nature of the doctrines,
and to the capacity of his hearers. He did
not deliver his doctrines, at once, in an abstract,
systematick manner, and then set about to ex-
plain, defend and support them. His sublime
system was not delivered in the gross, but
gradually unfolded in proportion to the state
of preparation in which he found the minds of
his disciples or of the multitude. His sermons
were not the effect of previous study, but arose
from the incidents and occurrences of his life*
His discourses were not delivered on set occa-
sions, but as opportunity offered, and no oppor-
tunity did he ever neglect of instilling know-
ledge and heavenly wisdom into his hearers.
None who wished to hear the wisdom of Jesus
were ever disappointed. Many who came
with a captious intention, and from motives of
curiosity, went away edified and improved.
No particular place was appointed for the de-

SERMON I. 9

livery of his instructions. He lifted up his
voice in the temple and in the desert ; in the
city and in the field. He ever sought out the
lost sheep in his wanderings, dragged the
wretched from his miserable haunt, conversed
with publicans and sinners, practised every
species of condescension for the benefit of
mankind, and insinuated himself into the
good opinion of all, that, happily, some might
be gained.

The method which our Saviour generally
followed in his instructions, was that of parable
or allegory ; in which the speaker, by an allu-
sion to sensible objects, or by some natural
story, conveys to the mind of the hearer moral
and spiritual instruction. This was a method
of instruction extremely common among the
oriental nations, and it was attended with the
peculiar advantage of impressing the truth
deeply upon the mind, and of facilitating the
recollection of it. What propriety, beauty
and force are discernible in all the parables
and allegories of Jesus ! No writing, ancient
or modern, can produce any thing worthy to
be compared with the parable of the sower and
his seed ; the allegory of the marriage supper ;
the histories of the prodigal son and the good

VOL, II. c

10 SERMON L

Samaritan. With Jesus no occurrence of life
passed away unimproved ; there was no sur-
rounding object that did not afford him an
occasion of uttering something to instruct, re-
prove, comtori or encourage his hearers. The
lilies of the field which grew under his feet,
and the birds of heaven which flew over his
head, led him to remind his disciples of the
paternal care and protection of their heavenly-
Father. The barren fig-tree led him to cau-
tion his disciples against the neglect and abuse
of their talents. The different kinds of fruit,
and the value put upon ihem, suggested to
his mind that rule of equity which judges every
man according to his works. When present
at the feast of the passovcr, he took occasion,
from the objects at that time familiar to the
people, to point out to them that true bread of
life, and that living w^ater, of which whosoever
eateth and drinketh shall never hunger or thirst
any more. The sea-side, which he often fre-
quented, and the former employment of some
of his disciples, afforded emblems, extremely
fit and proper, for representing the nature of
that mission on which they were sent. The
great Increase of so small a grain as mustard-
seed, suggested the rapid advancement of his

SERMON I. il

kingdom from such small beginnings as the
world then saw before them, and the spreading
of his doctrines to the uttermost ends of the
earth.

But to multiply particular instances of this
mode of teaching, would be endless. I shall
only add, that, it is infinitely superiour in
beauty and effect to the most studied refine-
ment, and the most scrupulous observance of
rules. A comparison will render this perfectly
obvious. In discoursing of a particular provi-
dence, and the folly of anxiety about futurity,
the reasoner of this world would thus address
his hearers, in the terms of art and according to
the rules of logick : " All anxiety about futu-
^' rity is unnecessary and ill-founded. A wise,
'* omnipotent, and benevolent being will not
*' forget that creature to which he has been
*' pleased to give existence, or refuse an incon-
*^ siderable favour, after he has conferred
*' others so important. Is it not obvious that
^' the animal creation, which are incapable of
** foresight, are yet provided for by the bounty
*' of heaven ; and that many vegetable pro-
'' ductions, which are destitute of motion, and
*' incapable of exertion, are yet more splen-
'^ didly adorned than the most lofty monarchs ?

1^ SERMON I.

*^ If such care is taken of the inferiour crea-
'' tures, it is a just and obvious inference that
*' a wise and just being, who values every thing
*' in proportion to its true worth, will bestow
" much more attention upon the first of his
" creatures on this globe.'*

All this is very fine ; but it requires little
skill in criticism, indeed it requires only an
unprejudiced mmd, to perc^rive its great inferi-
ority, and its insipidity, when compared w^ilh
the beautiful discourse of Jesus on the same
subject : '* Therefore I say unto you, take no
*^ thought for your life, what ye shall eat or
'^ what ye shall drink ; nor yet for your body,
'' what ye shall put on. Is not the life more
*< than the meat, and the body than the rai-
" ment ? Behold the fowls of the air; for they
'* sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather
'^ into barns ; yet your heavenly Father feedeth
<* them : are ye not much better than they I
<' Which of you by taking thought can add
'' one cubit unto his stature? and why take
'« ye thought for raiment ? Consider the lilies
*' of the field, how they grow ; they toil not
'* neither do they spin ; and yet I say unto
'' you, that even Solomon in all his glory was
'' not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore,.

SERMON I. 13

*^ if God so clothe the grass of the field,
*' which to day is, and to-morrow is cast into
*' the oven, shall he not much more clothe
'' you, Oye of little faith."*

III. Thirdly. Never man spake with such
authority and power as Jesus of Nazareth,
Former teachers advanced what they taught
with much uncertainty, frequently as mere
conjecture, in the way of speculation, and for
the sake of debate ; Jesus taught mankind with-
out any degree of doubt and hesitation, with the
air of one who knew the truth of what he said,
and who was perfectly assured of all that he
spake. " Verily, verily I say unto thee, we
** speak that we do know, and testify that we
** have seen." Former messengers merely
delivered what they had received, and spoke
as coming from another. Jesus delivered his
doctrine in his own name, and supported it by
his own authority. I say unto you was the
form in which he introduced his precepts and
instructions. •

The effect of his preaching corresponded
with the power and energy with which he
spoke. Nothing could resist his divine elo-

* Matthew, chap. vi. verse 25. 30.

14 SERMON I.

quence. His friends were persuaded, his
enemies were confounded, and all wondered
at the gracious words which proceeded out of
his mouth. In the language of ancient pro-
phecy *' he made the crooked places straight,
** he broke in pieces the gates of brass and
'' cut in sunder the bars of iron/' Very-
early did he give proofs of the power with
which he spake ; for at the age of twelve
years, he reasoned with the doctors in the
temple, to such effect, that all who heard him
were astonished at his understanding and
answers. The first discourse which he de-
livered to the world, after entering upon his
publick office, was no less effectual than sub-
lime. ** It came to pass, we are told, when
** Jesus had ended these sayings, the people
^* were astonished at his doctrine, for he
" taught them as one having authority, and
** not as the scribes."

It was the same energetick eloquence that
confounded the officers who had been sent to
apprehend Jesus, and drew from them the
confession in the text, '' that never man
** spake like this man." Though armed,
and invested with a legal commission they
shrunk back at his discourse, and were afraid

SERMON I. Id

to lay hands upon him or to do liim any
harm. A word or a look from him produ-
ced a much greater effect than the most elo-
quent discourses from the tongue of another.
This we can only account for from the inti-
mate knowledge which, as God, he had of the
human character. He knew what was in
man, he traced the silent current of thought
as it rose in the mind ; he saw the most
secret designs of those with whom he con-
versed ; he was intimately acquainted with
the workings of the several passions, and how
they were to be moved and actuated. And
what resistance, do we imagine, could be
made to a speaker who had the hearts of all
men in his hands, and could turn them whi-
thersoever he would ? What effect, indeed, is
still produced in the ordinary preaching of
the word, when Jesus speaks by his spirit to
the hearts and consciences of men ? The
gospel then becomes a two-edged sword,
sharp and piercing, dividing between the
joints and marrow, reaching to the thoughts
and intentions of the heart.

I have given you but a very imperfect
sketch of the superiour excellency of Jesus as
a preacher. But enough has been said to

16 SERMON I.

render the pious and well-disposed grateful to
God, who has favoured the world with so
admirable an instructor. Enough has been
said to make us esteem and value the Christian
system, and to search the scriptures which
contain the words of eternal life, the sublime
doctrines of which we have been speaking.
Enough has been said to make every good
man reverence and obey the precepts of him,
** who spoke as never man spake/'

17

SERMON IL

The state of humility/, in which Christ appeared
on earthy perfectly fitted to the discharge of
his duties as a mediator, and a source of
comfort and joy to his disciples.

Matthew, Chap. xiii. Verse 35, 56.

^'* Is not this the carpenter's son ? Is hot his mother called
Mary ? And his brethren James, and Joses, and Simon, and
Judas ? And his sisters, are they not all with us ? Whence
then hath this man all these tilings ? And they were offen-
ded in him."

A PROPHET is not without honour, save in
his own country. Recollection of his early
life, familiar acquaintance with his relations
and friends^ envy at his success, and the mean
jealousy of those around him, that one taken
from among themselves should form great
pretensions and aspire to superiour eminence,
all conspire to check his rising greatness, and
to rob him of that respect to which his merits
might seem to entitle him. In no instance

Vol.. IT, D

18 SERMON II.

has this been so fully verified as in the case of
our Saviour. Though chosen of God the
chief corner stone, yet v^as he despised and
rejected by the foolish builders of this world.
His neighbours w^ere offended at the fame of
his superiour merit, and thought that it did not
exist because they could not account for it.
The great and proud were offended at the
meanness of his descent, and could not possi-
bly condescend to receive instruction from him
whose father and mother and brothers and sis-
ters they all knew, and saw occupying the
lowest and least honourable stations in life. —
The whole Jewish nation, deluded by their
mistaken expectation of a temporal Saviour,
were offended at his humble appearance, so
destitute of pomp and show, so ill calculated
to draw the attention of the multitude^ or gain
adherents by means of authority and power.
In short, the sufferings and persecutions which
he endured, the ignominious death which he
at last suffered, formed an insurmountable
stumbling-block of offence, and completed
their conviction, that a person so meanly de-
scended, placed in so low a station, and so
persecuted and despised, could not be the

SERMON II. 19

messenger of heaven, nor the Saviour of man-
kind.

Yet if we analyze this celebrated objection,
we find it to be merely a compound of envy,
pride and ignorance. Had not the neighbours
of Jesus been blinded by envy, they would
have reasoned in a very diiferent manner, and,
instead of being offended at him, because they
could not tell whence he had all the wonder-
ful gifts of which they saw him possessed, they
would have said, *' With this man's birth, ed-
" ucation, and fortune we are well acquainted.
** It is impossible that he should do those things
** which we see and hear, by any skill of his
*' own; he has had no opportunities of instruction
'* in those sublime truths which he delivers —
*^ to him the stores of learning and science have
*' never been opened . It is evident, therefore,
" that he is taught from on high ; that he is en-
" dowed with supernatural and divine power,
" for no man could work the works which he
" hath wrought, unless thefatherhadsenthim.''

Had not the rulers and pharisecs been puf-
fed up with pride and vain glory, they would
have listened to the voice of truth, from what-
ever quarter it proceeded ; they would have
been more attentive to it, as proceeding from

20 SERMON II.

a quarter from which they least expected it ;
they would have acknowledged that true worth
is confined to no one situation of life ; that th^
greater the disproportion between the instru-
ment and the work, the more certain an indi-
cation does it afford of the interference of
God, wlio frequently chooses the weak things
of this world to confound the things which are
mighty, and base things of the world, and
things which are despised, and things which
are not, to bring to nought things which are.

In short, they were ignorant of the true
character of the divine ways, of the predic-
tions concerning the Messiah, of the great
ends of our Saviour's appearance, or they
would have perceived that it was necessary that
the Captain of our salvation should be made
perfect through sufferings, and should under-
go humiliation before he could enter into his
glory.

1 . The divine ways are not as our ways, and
we shall certainly err if we apply the same
reasoning to both. The weakness of man
renders necessary a long train of vain ceremo-
nies, and requires much pomp and parade to
hide it from the view of others. A prince
clothes his ambassadours with ail the trappings

SERMON II. 21

of state, and all the pageantry of office, in or-
der to inspire men with awe and reverence for
what might otherwise be entitled to no re-
spect. A greater share of inherent dignity
and power would render unnecessary all this
external pomp and grandeur. For as true
beauty when unadorned is most conspicuous,
so real merit shines forth with greatest lustre
in the humblest state. The meanness of our
Saviour's appearance, instead of detracting
from the majesty and glory of God, as if an
ambassadour so humble and unattended, were
unworthy of so great a sovereign, is thus a
proof of the contrary ; and is of a piece with
all the other works of God. He who said at
first, " Let there be light, and there was light"
— at whose presence Jordan fled back ; who
declared, '* I will, be thou clean" — the same
it was who determined to save the world by
weak, and in the eye of human reason, incom-
petent instruments : by the agency of a poor,
humble and despised Nazarene. In this re-
spect it truly might be said, that the foolish-
ness of God is wiser than men ; and the weak-
ness of God, stronger than men. For though
no outward beauty shone in our Saviour to
draw the carnal eye, though there was in him

iiij SERMON IL

no form nor comeliness for which he should
be desired ; yet still we behold in him such
marks of greatness and power as throw into the
shade all the little efforts of human vanity and
pride, to gain the attention and applause of the
world. Doth not the meek and humble Sa-
viour of mankind, who healed the sick, raised
the dead, and stilled the stormy wave, appear
in the eye of unprejudiced reason, infinitely
greater and more exalted, even though clothed
in poverty, than the mightiest monarch of the
earth surrounded with his attendants and cour-
tiers, or the greatest conquerour at the head of
his victorious army. All human glory fades
away when compared with that heavenly glo-
ly which is everlasting.

2. It was, further, necessary that the Sa-
viour of men should appear in a low and hum-
ble state, that he might fulfil the predictions
delivered concerning him by the prophets.
Nothing can be more evident than that the
Messiah promised to the fathers, was foretold
as one whose first appearance was to be accom-
panied by poverty, distress and suffering. Glo-
rious things were indeed told of him, but these
things were to be preceded by a state of hu-
miliation and abasement. He was not to be

SERMON II. ^

born of a great and noble family, but was to
grow up as a tender plant, and as a root out of
a dry ground. Instead of enjoying the hon-
ours, riches and pleasures of this world, he
was to be oppressed and afflicted, despised and
rejected of men ; a man of sorrows and ac-
quainted with grief. He was not to exercise
temporal dominion, and hold all the nations of
the earth subject to him ; but was to be taken
from prison and from judgment, and to be cut
off out of the land of the living. The Jews
therefore, instead of being offended at Jesus,
for his mean birth and humble station, ought
to have acknowledged the fulfilment of the
prredictions concerning him, and to have said,
truly, this is the Messiah promised to our fa-
thers. In him all the enigmas and apparent
contradictions of the prophets are explained
and reconciled . The wonderful works which
he performs, the sublime truths which issue
from his lips, the meekness and innocence of
his conduct, the spiritual dominion which he
exercises over the hearts of men, all these
declare him to be the wonderful, the
COUNSELLOR, the mighty God, the ever-
lasting Father, the Prince of peace, of the in-
crease of whose government there shall be no

24 SERMON II.

end ; and who, in a moral sense, shall sit up-
on the throne of David, and upon his king-
dom to order it, and to establisli it, with judg-
ment and with justice, from henceforth even
for ever. And on the other hand, the abject
condition in which he appears, the reproach,
persecution and suffering to which he is expo-
sed, clearly announce that he is no other than
him whose visage, it was foretold, was to be
marred more than any man, and his form
more than the sons of men. The wise and
discerning, had Christ appeared in any other
than a humble and suffering condition, would
have had good reason to consider him as an
impostor, whose character and appearance did
not correspond with what had been predicted
of him in the writings of the prophets.

3. But the propriety of our Saviour's ap-
pearing in a humble and suffering state, will
be fartlier evident if we consider him as the
authour and teacher of a new religion. His
weakness and sufferings demonstrate the in-
trinsick excellence and divine authority of his
doctrines. He could not be an impostor who
gained nothing himself by his labours but
ignominy and persecution. He was very un-
likely to impose upon others ; he, whose sil-

SERMON II. 25

Liation far from commanding respect was more
calculated to create contempt, who had no
visible power to enforce his laws and no ap-
parent reward to bestow upon his followers.
The heathen religions were invented or taught
by princes and emperours, whose authority
gained adherents to a system of absurdity and
superstition, who allured some by the hope of
reward, and terrified others by the fear of pun-
ishment, into a belief at which their unbiassed
reason revolted. And had our Saviour ap-
peared in all that temporal splendour and au*
thority which the Jews expected, and which
the men of this world seem to desire, long
ere now would we have been told, that our
religion was merely an engine of state, was
propagated by force, and believed from necessi-
ty, not conviction. Instead of asking, is not this
the carpenter's son ? Are not these men of the
sect of the Nazarenes? This is he, they would
have said, whose triumphs filled the world
with widows and with orphans ; who dragged
the unwilling proselytes of his religion .captive
at the wheels of his chariot, and compelled
the world by violence to accept his absurd sys-*
tem of superstition. Would not the inacces-
sible greatness and tyrannical power of such

VOL. IT E

26 SERMON II.

a teacher, have given greater and more just
cause of offence than the poverty and humi-
lity of our Redeemer can now do ? Would not
the proud minions of the conquerour's court,
enriched by the spoils of the poor and the nee-
dy, have been more abhorred than the hand-
maid Mary, and Christ's simple brethren,
James and Joses and Simon and Judas were
despised ? Would not the sword have been a
greater stumbling block than the cross, and
have been an unequivocal proof that our re-
ligion was of man and not of God? The hu-
miliation of our Saviour is thus a proof to man-
kind in every age of the excellence of his
doctrines, of the certainty of their evidence,
alid that they are not a contrivance of human
policy, imposed on men by undue influence.
4. The propriety and necessity of our Sa-
viours appearing in an humble and suffering
state must be still more evident, if we con-
sider him as exhibiting a pattern for the imi-
tation of mankind. He came into the world
not only to bear witness unto the truth, and
to teach mankind their duty, but also to leave
us an example that we might follow his steps.
And this example was not to be limited to one
class of men, or one condition of life, but was

SERMON II. 27

intended to be universally useful, and fitted to
the case of the poor as well as of the rich, and
to the dark hour of adversity and suffering as
well as to the gayer scenes of prosperity and
enjoyment. From this it follows, that, our Sa-
viour's situation in life must be that which is
the general lot of humanity. And who is
ignorant, that, while a few are favoured with
the gifts of fortune and the sunshine of pros-
perity, the great bulk of mankind, the un-
counted millions of the human race, are
doomed to perpetual poverty, obscurity and
wretchedness? That while a few moments of
our life are alloted to enjoyment the greater
portion of our days is appropriated to labour
and suffering? Had Jesus Christ appeared in
a state of great temporal prosperity, as a
prince or an emperour, the histoiy of his life
might have dazzled the fancy and attracted
the admiration of mankind, but would have
been of very limited use as a general pattern
of conduct. It would have served for the im-
itation of the few, the very few, who might
be his equals in rank and condition, but what
lessons could the poor and the wretched have
derived from it? Would his contentment in
the midst of plenty calm the anxiety of their

Q8 SERMON II.

minds when threatened with want and ruin ?
Would his confidence in the hour of success
inspire them with fortitude when ready to be
overwhelmed with calamities and opposition ?
Would his serenity and possession of soul in
the midst of enjoyment, and surrounded with
applause, teach them patience when expo-
sed to suffering and reproach ? But while the
example of Jesus Christ, had he been placed
in an elevated station far above the generality
of mankind, would have given little or no
light except to the few who approached near-
er to his own level, the low and suffering
condition in which he appeared renders his
exar^iple universally useful, and pregnant with
instruction and comfort to men of all ranks
and all characters. To the rich it exhibits a
striking pattern of humility, moderation, self-
denial and a contempt of the world. To the
poor, every virtue suitable to their condition,
is preached in the most effectual manner :
contentment, industry, patience, meekness,
forgiveness of injuries, fortitude in danger
and superiority to temptation. Well might
the carpenter's son, the despised Nazarene,
say *'learn of me for I am meek and lowly
^^ in heart/'

SERMON IL 29

The humble appearance of Jesus not only-
rendered his life a pattern of such virtues as
were useful for the imitation of mankind, but
even displayed his virtues w'lih greater lustre.
The light of virtue always shines brightest in
the night of affliction. It is in the school of
adversity that the best lessons are acquired.
The path of suffering has ever been the road
to honour. In the field of danger the noblest
laurels are reaped. Who are the the charac-
ters that have attracted the admiration of the
world, and have been held forth as patterns
for the imitation of future ages ? Not they
who have been born in affluence, who have
been nurtured in the lap of prosperity, who
have spent their days in ease and indolence :
but they who after passing their youth in ob-
scurity and amid hardships, who after strug-
gling with fortitude against the evils of life,
have, through their own merit, risen superi-
our to the disadvantages of fortune and situa-
tion, and exhibited that perfection of charac-
ter, which the school of adversity alone can
produce; which men are ambitious to imitate,
and God himself beholds with complacency.
In like manner the Captain of our salvation,
the authour and finisher of our faith, was

30 SERMON Ih

made perfect through siifFerings. And ha-
ving learned obedience by the things which
he suffered he is now highly exalted and
crowned with glory and honour ; a glory
which is exceedingly increased by compari-
son with his former state of humiliation and
abasement.

5. The humiliation of our Saviour was ab-
solutely necessary in order to the discharge
of his niediatorial office: whether we consi-
der him as the substitute or the intercessor of
sinners.

The penalty threatened against sin was
death ; which included not only the separa-
tion of soul and body, but also the various
temporal evils ; such as pain, disease and
want, which since the commission of sin,
have fallen upon our race. To deliver man-
kind from this dreadful sentence was the end
for which a Saviour was appointed. The
very name of our Lord implied this; 'Uhou
*^shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save
*Miis people from their sins.'' This being
the end of his coming into the world, it was
indispensably requisite that he should appear
in a suffering and not in a triumphant state ;
that he should humble himself, and be found

SERMON ir. 51

In fashion as a man, and become obedient un-
to death. For all the attributes of deity re-
quired to be vindicated by such a procedure.
Justice declared that the sinner could not es-
cape unless the punishment due to his oft'ence
was endured either by himself or by a substi-
tute ; and therefore the substitute must en-
dure all the pains and miseries of this life and
at last undergo the sentence of death denoun-
ced against sin. The holiness of God requi-
red that he should testify his hatred and indig-
nation against sin, in the most striking man-
ner. The divine wisdom saw it proper to hold
forth to all his subjects an awful example of
the evil consequences of transgression. There-
ford did he send his only begotten and well
beloved Son into these regions of pain and
misery, in a condition which ill accorded with
that glory which he had with him before the
world was. For this cause did Jesus leave the
abodes of happiness, to become a man of sor-
rows and acquainted with grief. For this cause
did he lead a life of poverty and distress, re-
proach and persecution, and at last submit to
a painful, an accursed and an ignominious
death upon the cross. But being thus made
perfect through sufferings, iic is become the

32 SERMON II.

authour of eternal salvation to all those who
are sanctified. By this humiliation he has
procured what could not have been obtained
by an act of power and authority. He has
satisfied the divine justice, and expiated the
guilt of sin. He has vindicated the holiness
of God and made honourable the law.
He has exhibited an awful proof of the evil
nature of sin, which could not be blotted
out without so costly a sacrifice as the humili-
ation, sufferings, and death of the beloved Son
of God.

In a word, the humiliation and sufferings of
Christ were necessary in order to the due dis-
charge of that part of his priestly office which
consists in interceding for sinners. The rea-
soning of St. Paul on this subject, wdll render
every other unnecessary. *^ Every high-
*' priest taken from among men, he tells us,
" must be such as can have compassion on the
'^ ignorant and on them that are out of the
" way, for that he himself also is compassed
** with infirmity. For as much then as the
<* children are partakers of flesh and blood,
*^ Christ also took part of the same. For it be-
'' hoved him to be made in all thnigslike un-
'' to his brethren, that he might be a merciful

SERMON IL 33

*' and faithful high priest, and that having suf-
*' fered being tempted he might be able and
" wilHng to succcour them that are tempted/*
Ought then the humble, afflicted and suffer-
ing condition in which our Saviour appeared
to excite shame or regret? Ought it not rather
to administer consolation, when we reflect,
that, we have not an high priest who cannot
be touched with a fellow-feeling of our infir-
mities, but was in all points tempted like as
we are; that, ""he who holds in his hands the
sceptre of the universe, and intercedes for us
with his father, once appeared in our nature,
and sojourned among us; that, in the days
of his flesh, he offered up prayers and sup-
plications with bitter crying and tears ; that,
he was subjected to the pains, diseases and
infirmites of life, and even experienced the
horrours of death and the grave. What as-
surance does not this give us that our wants
and desires are well known to him ; that he
sympathizes with all our sorrows, and that he
will at all times grant us a speedy relief? With
what confidence may we now approach unto
a throne of grace, knowing that through the
intercession of our compassionate high priest,
we shall obtain mercy, and iind grace ro help
in time of need !

VOL. IJ. F

SERMON III

PART I.

The character of Christ considered under the
allegory of a Shepherd ; his pastoral care to
embrace and gather in all nations to his fold.

John. Chap. 10, Verse 16.

••' And other sheep I have which are not of this fold ; them
also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice ; and there
shall be one fold and one shepherd.'*

Jesus Christ is the sum and substance of the
gospel. To describe his offices, to deUneate
his character, and to display his excellence,
seems to be the great object of every inspired
writer. Nature and art have been exhausted
for images to represent his personal dignity and
glory. He has been styled the sun of right-
eousness, the bright and the morning star, a
covert from the tempest and the shadow of a
rock in a weary land; a fortress and a strong
tower ; a rock ; a precious corner stone ; a

SERMON III. 35

tree of life; the bread of life, and a well of
water springing up into everlasting life. To
represent the near and endearing relation in
which he stands to his followers; to show the
care which he takes of them, and the benefits
which they derive from him, every relation
known among men, every office of dignity and
respect, have been employed. Whatever be
the situation of his followers, however manifold
and great their wants and necessities, they will
find in him something suited to their several
cases and desires ; they will be supplied with
grace sufficient for them in every vicissitude
of Life. If misled by errour, or involved in
ignorance, he is their prophet to instruct, en-
lighten and guide them. If guilty and alien-
ated from God, he is their priest to atone for,
and to expiate their offences. If lawless and
disobedient, he is their king to subdue them
unto himself, to teach them his laws, and to
reward their obedience. If oppressed with
sickness and sorrow, he is their physician to
heal and relieve them. If terrified by the
threatenings of the law and the accusations of
their own conscience, he is their advocate and
intercessor with the Father. When held in
l^ondage by Sin and -Satan he is their redee-

a6 ' SERMON IIL

mer to pay their ransom and procure their
deUverance. If beset with dangers, and sur-
rounded with enemies, he is the captain of
their salvation, under whose banners they
shall go forth to victory and to conquest. In
short, he is tlieir father, their elder brother,
their friend and their husband.

But throughout the whole scripture, of
which the language is so highly figurative, no
metaphor is more beautiful and natural, more
frequently repeated, more finely wrought,
more descriptive of the thing signified, than
that which represents our Saviour as a shep-
herd, his people as his flock, and the visible
church as his sheep-fold.

In the writings of every people, we find
frequent allusions to their peculiar manners
and customs, to the natural productions of the
soil and climate, to the external face of the
country, as diversified with hills and valleys^
woods, and lakes, and rivers ; and to the va-
rious appearances presented by the heavens
and the earth at difierent seasons of the year.
To understand, therefore, and to relish the
beauties of any writer due attention must be
paid to the nature of the country where he lived,
and the state of society at the time when he

SERMON III. SI

wrote. Without this the finest and most ex-
pressive imagery will produce no effect on
the mind, but will be deemed barren and un-
entertaining. In no instance is this truth
more obvious than in the writings of the an-
cient Jews, more especially the poetical and
prophetical books of the Old Testament. To
a person acquainted with the manners, cus-
toms and opinions only of modern times ; who
judges of works of fancy and inspiration by
the cold rules of criticism; who has no idea
of a country or state of society different from
his own, no force or beauty will appear in
these writings : on the contrary, the simple
narrative of the historian will seem rude and
barbarous, the sublime imagery of the poets
to be rhapsody and bombast, and the enigma-
tical predictions of the prophets to be unintel-
ligible jargon. But whoever reads the scrip-
tures with the eye of an enlightened critick,
making at the same time proper allowance for
the simplicity of ancient manners and cus-
toms, for the peculiar rites and institutions of
the Jews, for the bold and figurative style of
writing prevalent among all eastern nations,
will discern a beauty and sublimity in the sa-
cred books far superiour to the best human
compositions.

38 SERMON III.

The Jewish nation, in the early period of
their history, though distinguished by the
divine favour, and enhghtened by revelation,
were still in a rude and uncultivated state, as
far as regarded civil society. Even in the
days of David, they had scarcely advanced
farther than the state of shepherds and hus-
bandmen. Arts, manufactures and com-
merce, began to flourish in a later period.
Their flocks and herds constituted their riches.
Milk and honey were the terms which con-
veyed to them the idea of plenty and fertihty.
To tend the flocks and herds was the honour-
able employment of princes and nobles; and
the greatest king, the sublimest writer, and the
the best man which this or perhaps any other
nation ever saw, was taken from the sheep-
folds and from following the ewes *' great
^* with young.'' From this circumstance It
undoubtedly arises that the sacred writings
abound so much with images borrowed from
the pastoral life. For In whatever stage of
society a nation commences It's literary ca-
reer, the future style of writing will always
retain a resemblance to the original model.
The manners and customs may change, the
taste may improve, but the national autjiours

SERMON III. 39

will, from habit and imitation, still employ
similar images and expressions to those which
were invented by the first composers. Hence
we find our Lord and his apostles, (who liv-
ed in a very different state of society from
that in which the psalmist composed that ad-
mirable pastoral the 23d psalm, and Isaiah
uttered his sublime predictions concerning the
great Shepherd of the flock) illustrating moral
and spiritual ideas by the very same sensible
images.

The beginning of that chapter which I
have now read, contains a beautiful allegorical
description of the relation subsisting between
Jesus and his followers. The weak, helpless,
blind, and wandering state of man by nature,
and even while the work of sanctification is
incomplete, is well represented under the
notion of sheep without a shepherd. And
the restoration, nourishment, guidance, pro-
tection and comfort which we derive from
Christ are equally well expressed by that
care which a shepherd exercises with regard to
the sheep of his pasture. I mean not to de-
form this beautiful allegory, by pushing the
comparison too far, but, as it is a favourite
miagQ with the sacred writers, as the ideas it

40 SERMON III.

suggests to the mind are tender, affecting and
comfortable, as, consequently, it will eluci-
date the scripture language, and impress up-
on our hearts a deep sense of the ties and rela-
tions by which we are bound to our Redeemer.
1 cannot, but deem it deserving of your atten-
tion:

T. To consider the character of Christ as a
shepherd, and illustrate the language of scrip-
ture on that subject.

II. To inquire who are those other sheep,
whom Jesus says in the text he must bring in?

III. To consider the happy effects which
would result from bringing in those other
sheep; *' there would be one fold, and one
" shepherd.'*

1. The situation and character of sheep re-
present, in a striking and lively manner, the
situation and character of mankind. Like
sheep in a pasture we are placed in this world,
in the midst of every thing which can contri-
bute to our happiness, by a beneficent Creator,
whose property we are, whose pasture we eat,
on whose bounty we live, to whose will and
pleasure we are wholly subservient. iVs sheep
annually repay their keeper's care and atten-
tion by the fruit of their substance, and by

SERMON III. 41

sparing a part of their own covering for their
owner's clothing and defence, so we, who are
the people of God's flock, should, in token of
those obligations which we are under, dedicate
to him ourselves, our talents, and our substance.
As sheep are led to the slaughter, and doomed
to bleed for their owner's convenience or hix-
ury, so we, like sheep, are laid in the grave,
and become the prey of worms which riot
over us in the tomb. No animal is more timid
and helpless, or has more enemies than the
sheep. So we are altogether weak and de-
pendent, exposed continually to evils which we
can neither foresee nor prevent; beset with
enemies who wait for our halting; tempta-
tions, like raving wolves, watch to make us
their prey ; our adversary the Devil, like a
roaring lion, continually goeth about seeking
to devour us. Our inward passions and de-
sires, worse than wild beasts, would teams in
pieces, did not the great shepherd of the flock
help and preserve us. No animal is so stu-
pid or so much disposed to wander from the
flock as the sheep. So we all, like lost sheep,
blinded by temptation and stupiiicd by sin,
had gone astray ; we had departed every one
into his own way; we had wandered from

VOL. IT, G

4e SERMON IIL

the rich pasture which God had provided foir
us, in quest of forbidden pleasures, as sheep
scattered on the mountains, without a shep-^
herd ; and in a deplorable situation like this
were we, when he who made us had mercy
upon us, and sent the great shepherd and bish-
op of souls, to seek and save that which was
lost.

But though all mankind afe represented in
scripture under the image of sheep, yet the
genuine disciples of Christ are more frequent-
ly and with greater propriety spoken of as his
flock, because they are a chosen people selec-
ted from the herd of mankind, and collected
into his church, which is his fold ; because
they are distinguished by him above others;
he knoweth them and calleth them by name— *
others, who are not of his fold, he knoweth
and acknowledgeth not — in short, because
they hear and know his voice and follow hint
—they are, like the lamb of God, meek, harm-
less, patient and resigned.

But wherein consists that pastoral care which
Christ exercises over his flock? First of all,
he is the shepherd of his people because he
feeds them with spiritual and divine foodo
Thus says the Psalmist, '' the Lord is my shep*

SERMON III. 43

** herd, I shall not want, he maketh mc to lie
'' down in green pastures, he leadeth me by
''the still waters." The word of God and
the ordinances of religion form to every sin-
cere Christian a rich repast ; a pasture which
is ever green. This pasture is, moreover,
watered with the dew of heaven, which makes
it spring up and yield abundant nourishment.
They who frequent the ordinances of Christ*s
religion, who read his word by day and me-
ditate on it by night, who hold communion
with him in the exercises of devotion, who
walk with him in the ways of holiness and
peace, shall not want; they shall not want
light and instruction ; they shall not want
comfort and joy; they shall not want grace
sufficient for them in every time of trial. They
shall go out and in and find pasture.

The reason why men make so little progress
in religion, why they do not grow more ra-
pidly in grace and in knowledge is, that, they
reject the food which is presented to them.
Their vitiated appetite loathes every thing
which is not seasoned with sin or sensual plea-
sure. But would they only open this sacred
book of God, and peruse it with sincere and
upright hearts, they would there find an un-

44 SERMON III.

speakable and inexhaustible feast to the soul ^
they would find a table constantly furnished
with the richest dainties, even in the pre-
sence of their enemies ; they would receive
an entertainment sweeter than honey and the
honey-comb. When the Christain, after
Searching through the wilderness of the world,
and finding every thing barren and insipid,
retires into the house of God, and joins in the
exercises of his worship, he sees green pas-
tures arise ; the desert crowned with herbage,
nature smiles, and refreshing streams are heard
to murmur all around. Nor does this part of
Christ*s pastoral office, like many others, cease
with the present life. For even in the future
world, where faith shall be swallowed up in
vision; where every want shall be supplied ;
where there shall be no ordinances whence
the flock of the Redeemer may draw nourish-
ment; where shall be no temple to worship
in ; where the people of God shall eat of the
fruit of the tree of life, and drink of those
rivers of pleasure which flow at his right hand
— still the Lamb which is in the midst of the
throne shall feed them and shall lead them to
living fountains of water, and God shall wipe
away all tears from their eyes.

SERMON III. 43

Christ is the shepherd of his people, be-
cause he leads and directs them. Thus says
the Psalmist, ** he leadeth me in the paths of
^'righteousness for his name*s sake." His word
is a light to their feet and a lamp to their path ;
he leads them by his spirit to the richest and
the best pastures ; he directs them into the right
way by his precepts and by his example ; he
warns them by his servants of those paths where
the nets of the destroyer are spread, where the
wild beasts of prey have their haunts, where
danger and temptation abound. When the road
issteepand difficult, he takes them by the hand,
and carries them safely through every trial.
When the path is uncertain his voice is heard
before them, " This is the way, walk ye in
** it." When the noon-tide of affliction burns,
he maketh his flock to rest under the cool and
refreshing shade of his grace. A\^hen the
storm aproaches, he removes them to a place
of shelter, and takes them away from the evil
to come. And when the shadows of the ever-
lasting evening descend, as a shepherd coimt-
eth his flock, seperateth the sheep from the
goats, and shutteth them up in his fold, so
Jesus receiveth his lambs into his bosom,
where enfolded in his arms they sleep the

46 SERMON III.

long sleep of death, secure from every danger
and beyond the reach of every foe.

Christ is the shepherd of his people, be-
cause he restoreth their soul, recalleth them
from their wanderings, healeth their backsli-
dings, and receiveth them graciously into fa-
vour. Such is the prevalence of indwelling
corruption, the force of temptation and the
subtlety of the destroyer, that even they who
have been recovered from the ways of folly
and destruction, are still apt to wander from
the flock, to feed on forbidden pastures; or,
by frequenting the company of the wicked,
to expose themselves to be entangled by temp-
tation or devoured by some of their numerous
foes. The shepherd may for a time permit
them to wander bewildered in darkness and
uncertainty, perplexed with doubts and fears
whether they shall ever discover the right road
or be again admitted into the fold, in order
to make them more sensible of their dan-
ger, and more humble and watchful and atten-
tive to his voice in future. But none of his
little ones shall perish. He knows how frail
they are. He pities and reclaims those who
are gone astray. He seeks the lost sheep in
hi$ wanderings, and when hefindeth it, he re-

SERMON III. 47

joiceth more over it than over those who went
not astray. It is impossible that they who are
preserved and restored by this good shepherd
shall finally fall away. In the hour of reck-
oning, none shall be missing. When the chief
Shepherd shall appear, he shall present to his
Father a glorious and perfect flock, without
spot or blemish, with these joyful words,
** those that thou gavest me I have kept, and
'* none of them is lost.'* Fear not then, ye who
are of the flock of Jesus, for it is your Father's
good pleasure to give you the kingdom.

Christ is the shepherd of his people because
he protects them from danger ; so strong and
sincere was his love for his sheep, that he laid
down his life for them. But by so doing he
has vanquished all those who seek to make
their souls a prey; and he now liveth and
reigneth for ever, to guard his flock from every
danger. And not only is he a powerful but
also a watchful shepherd. He that keepeth
Israel slumbers not nor ^leeps ; his eye is
ever upon his beloved sheep ; he sees all the
attempts and plots of their subtle and relentless
enemies, and defeats their counsels before they
are put into execution. Dangers may threaten,
temptations may surround, the adversary may

48 SERMON III,

rage and roar for his prey, but he who leadeth
Joseph hke a flock of sheep is mightier far
than they who conspire their ruin. He shall
preserve them from all evil. He is their
shade on their right hand. The sun shall not
smite them by day, nor the moon by night.
He shall preserve their going out and their
coming in. They may lie down in peace and
fleep in security ; for the Lord maketh them
to dwell in safety. He stills the raging of the
seas, and represses the fury of the enemy and
the avenger. He sends his angel and shuts
the lions* mouths, that they cannot hurt those
whom the wickedness of man has exposed
to their devouring jaws. The burning fiery
furnace cannot injure when the Son of God is
present. Even the dark valley of the shadow
of death 4oses all its horrour, and ceases to in-
spire fear, when the Shepherd of Israel is with
us as our guardian and support. '' Yea, though
" I walk through the valley of the shadow of
" death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with
** me ; thy rod and staff comfort and support
<* me.*' '' I give unto my sheep eternal life,"
says our Lord, *' and they shall never perish,
** neither shall any be able to pluck them out
** of my hand,"

SERMON III. 49

In short Christ is the shepherd of his people,
because he comforts and reheves them. How
beautiful and aflecting a description is given us
by the prophet, of the care, attention and
compassion witli which Jesus exercises this
part of his pastoral office! *' He shall feed his
** flock, like a shepherd; he shall gather the
'* lambs with his arms, and carry them in his
'* bosom, and gently lead those that are with
'* young.'* In Christ's fold there are sheep ol
all ages and conditions. But according to
their circumstances and exigencies such is
the care of their compassionate shepherd. As
their days are, so shall their strength be. They
that are young in grace and cannot walk shall
be carried ; and that too in a place which
equally denotes safety and endearment, in the
bosom of the good Shepherd. They cannot
sink, under whom are the everlastuig arms.
They that are heavy laden shall be gently led.
Comfort yourselves Christians, with this, that
none shall be left behind. Whatever hard-
ships and difficulties you may meet with on
the way, however inadequate your strength
may seem for the burden you are called to
bear, yet fear not, you shall all appear before
God in Zion. To the faint the Shepherd of

VOL. II. H

50 SERMON IIL

Israel giveth power, and to them that have no
might he increaseth strength. He strength-
eneth the diseased ; he healeth the sick, he
bindeth up the broken, he seeketh the lost,
he bringeth back that which was driven away.
"Wherever his sheep are scattered in the cloudy
and dark day, into whatever fold they may
have strayed, he searcheth them out, he bring-
eth them from among the people, and gath-
ereth them from the countries, and bringeth
them again to his flock ; there shall they lie
down in a good fold, and in a fat pasture shall
they feed on the mountains of Israel.

SERMON IV,

PART II.

The same subject continuecL

My brethren, in a former discourse from these
words, I endeavoured to illustrate the charac-
ter of Christ as a shepherd, and to show that
he is thus denominated with the greatest pro-
priety and beauty ; because he feeds, leads,
restores, protects and comforts his people.

I now proceed, as was proposed in the
second place, to inquire who are those othet
sheep, whom jesus says in the text, he must
bring in, and who shall hear his voice.

/ am the good shepherd, says Jesus> and
know my sheep. The followers of the Lamb
are all enrolled in his book of life. From that
divine omniscience and foreknowledge of
which he is possessed, he knew from the begin-
ning who shall believe and be saved, and who
shall reject the counsel of God to their own
condemnation. The heirs of grace, chosen to

52 SERMON IV.

be partakers of Christ's redemption, shall not
be forgotten, or left to perish. In whatever
nation or region of the earth they may live ;
however far removed from the means of salva-
tion ; however improbable it may be that the
sound of the gospel should ever reach them ;
yet the great Shepherd of the flock knoweth
where they are to be found, and at the time
and in the way which he hath appointed they
shall be brought in. As faith cometh by hear-
ing, and hearing by the word of God, by
means which we cannot foresee or explain,
but which are doubtless within the reach of
almighty power and infinite wisdom, wher-
ever Christ has sheep the light of the gospel
shall either shine upon the whole nation to
which they belong, or the dews of heaven shall
distil upon them in secret, or they shall in
the course of providence be removed to a place
where the gospel is known and professed. The
conversion of Ethiopia to the faith was an
event which, at the time it happened, was of
all others the most improbable ; but in that
nation Jesus had sheep to bring in, and their
bringing in he accomplished by the acciden-
tal meeting, as it would appear to us, of a
great man of that country with one of our

SERMON IV. 63

Lord's disciples. To Cornelius, a private mes-
senger was dispatched from heaven, that he
and his household might be brought into the
fold of the Redeemer. On the other hand,
those Jews who had been scattered abroad
throughout every nation under heaven, and
who consequently had no opportunity of
hearing Christ's voice-in those unenlightened
countries, yet being among the number of his
sheep, they were providentially brought up
to Jerusalem to celebrate the feast of Penticost,
and were there converted by the powerful
preaching of St. Peter, seconded by the won-
derful works of God. And so it was, so it is,
and so it will be, in every age. The Shep-
herd of Israel is constantly carrying on that
plan, devised from the beginning, for bring-
ing all whom the Father has given him to a
knowledge of himself. The objects, the time
and the means are all fixed in his mind, and
form a part of one great chain, no link of which
shall be broken. But they are necessarily un-
known to us. We cannot tell who are the
^heep of Jesus, No human foresight, obser-
ving even with the greatest care the signs of
the times, can ascertain when or how the light
of the glorious gospel shall shine cither to i\Zr

5i SERMON IV.

tions or individuals. That book, which coil-
tains the catalogue of Christ's chosen ones, no
man in heaven, nor in earth, nor under the
earth is able to open or to read. In this in-
quiry, therefore, we presume not to determine
the objects of the divine favour, or to fix upon
the times and the seasons which God hath re-
served in his own power. But from the decla-
rations made in other passages of scripture;
from the general tenour of the gospel, and
from the analogy of providence, to illustrate
the meaning of our Saviour, when he says,
*' other sheep I have, which are not of this
" fold ; them also I must bring, and they shall
^' hear my voice/'

1. By the expression, this fold, it is evident
that the Jewish nation, was primarily inten-
ded by our Lord ; and by his other sheep the
Gentile nations. The Jews were particularly
distinguished by the title of God's flock. They
had been chosen by the Almighty, outof allthe
nations of the earth. To them alone a revela-
tion was granted ; to them were committed
the oracles of the living God. These instan-
ces of the divine favour, however, were not
occasioned by any merit on their part; but
were designed by God in order to make with

SERMON IV. 55

them a deposit of his revealed will, to preserve
alive in the earth the knowledge of himself,
and by degrees to prepare the world more effec-
tually for that grand dispensation which was not
to be confined to one nation or country, but
to be published to the whole race of man.
That the revelation intrusted to them might
not be lost or corrupted, by any intercourse or
union with the professors of heathenism it
was ordained, that, no strangers or foreigners
should be admitted into the bosom of their
church. If any who resided among them
were willing to embrace their religion, they
were admitted no farther than the outer court.
The Jews were farther distinguished from all
other nations of the earth by peculiar rites and
ceremonies. They were forbidden to inter-
marry, or even to eat or to drink with strangers.
In short, every method was adopted which
policy could suggest to preserve them a sepa-
rate and distinct people. A wall was erected
between the Jew and the Gentile, which was
the parent of many odious distinctions and of
many mistaken opinions, highly injurious to
the character of the Supreme Being. In the
days of our Saviour, the most extravagant na-
tional pride, joined to an unjustifiable con-

56 SERMON IV.

tempt of all other nations, religious bigotry,
self-conceit, the meanest and most illiberal
prejudices, formed the prominent features in
the Jewish character. Puffed up with a sense
of their supposed superiority over others, their
constantboast was, that, they were born of the
circumcision, that they were Abraham's seed,
and Moses's disciples. Ignorant of the true
intention of the Almighty in selecting them
from the rest of the world, they foolishly im-
agined that God was a local deity, confined
to the Jewish nation, and to the land of Ju-
dea. In their opinion there was no salvation
to the Gentiles; they of the uncircumcision
who knew not the law were accursed. And
though, in the days of the Messiah, they ex-
pected that Tarshish and the Isles should ac-
knowledge his sway, they were far from sup-
posing that they would be admitted to equal
privileges with their own favoured nation, but,
that they would be nothing else than subjects
and tributaries to the Jews.

How different from all this were the general
spirit and declared intention of Christianity.
Within its wide embrace it comprehended
both Jew and Gentile, Greek and barbarian,
Koman and Scythian, bond and free, Chris-

SERMON IV, $^

tianity does not require us to worship God, at
any stated season or in any particular place,
but allows us to worship tvhen and where and
how we please, provided we worship him in
spirit and in truth. The perfection of the
Christian service consists not in the strict obser-
vance of outward rites and ceremonies, but in
that which every man has it in his power to
attain, the due regulation of his heart and con-
duct. The rites it prescribes are few and sim-
ple, the forms it requires are plain and easy to
be observed. It's maxims and precepts are not
adapted to the taste of any particular age or
nation ; but are of that general, universal and
immutable nature which is calculated for all
ranks and professions, for all ages and nations,
and for every mode of government and every
state of society. Jesus was not the teacher and
lawgiver of the Jewish nation alone, but of
the whole human race. He broke down the
middle wall of partition which separated the
Jews from the Gentiles, and united them in
one body by his cross. He abolished the law
of ordinances, which was obligatory only on
one people, and delivered a new command-
ment which all nations were required to obey.
He threw open the door of that fold which

K'OL. IT. 1

5S SERMON IV.

the Scribes and Pharisees had been so careful
to keep shut, and invited all the people of the
earth to assemble therein. He was a light to
lighten the Gentiles and to guide into the way
of peace those who sat in darkness, and in the
shadow of death. His sound was destined to
go into all the earth, and his words unto the
ends of the world.

By the other sheep mentioned in the text, is
therefore meant those believers among the
Gentiles, who were not of the Jewish nation or
church. These, Jesus tells his hearers, should
hear the glad tidings of the gospel of peace, and
should be admitted into his fold, should hear
his voice and follow him. The bringing in of
these sheep, in other words, the conversion of
the Gentiles, had been long ago predicted by
the prophets, and spoken of in terms of rap-
ture and sublimity, as an event which was to
take place in the reign of the Messiah. To
correct the inveterate prejudices of the Jews ;
to destroy that narrow spirit of bigotry where-
with they were animated ; to expand their
minds to more liberal views of the divine ways,
was the object of our Lord in many conversa-
tions which he held with the Scribes and Pha-
risees. His own ministrations indeed were in

SERMON IV. 59

a great measure confined to the Jews ; for as
he himself says, he was not sent but to the
lost sheep of the house of Israel. That he
might not violently shock their prejudices and
unnecessarily lay a stumbling block in their
way, he did not at first openly teach their re-
jection, and the admission of the Gentiles to
the same rights and privileges, but wrapped up
his doctrines on that head in allegories and pa-
rables. But when he had finished the work
which was given him to do; when he had
come to his own, and his own received him
not; then he determined to bring in his other
sheep, to try if they would hear his voice, and
he commissioned his apostles to go into all the
world, and preach the gospel to every creature.
Through their instrumentality salvation was
brought to the Gentiles. In obedience to their
Master's command, they dispersed themselves
into the various regions of the earth, seeking
and bringing in Christ's sheep, teaching that
circumcision or uncircumcision availed noth-
ing, that God is no respecter of persons, but
that in every nation he that feareth him and
worketh righteousness is accepted of him. And
such was their success; so great was the num-
ber of sheep whom they brought into the Re-

60 SERMON IV.

deeiner*s fold, that it might be truly said, that,
they became a people who were no people ; that
a little one became a thousand, and a small one
a strong nation. In short, the change was so
great, and the revolution so complete, that they
who before were excluded from God's flock
now became the only true flock, and the an»
cient flock were rejected from the fold.

2. As at the time when our Lord addressed
the Jews he meant by this fold, the Jewish
church, and by his other sheep, the Gentiles
—and by saying that these other sheep should
hear his voice and be brought in, he meant
that the Gospel should be preached to the
Gentiles, and that many of them would be-
lieve and receive it ; so in the present days,
when we say that Christ has other sheep, who
are not of this fold, but who shall hear his
voice and shall be brought in, we mean, by
this fold, the Christian church — by his other
sheep ; i . The Jews who refuse to acknow.-
ledge Jesus as the Messiah ; 2. The Mahom-
etans who acknowledge Jesus to have been a
great prophet, but yet have suffered them-
selves to be deluded by the vain pretensions of
an enthusiastick impostor ; and 3. The hea-
then nations, of whom we may say with Isaiah,

SERMON IV. 61

*' darkness covers the earth, and gross darknes$
*^ the people.*' And when we say, that, these
other sheep shall hear his voice, and be brought
in, we mean that the Jews shall at last yield to
the force of truth, lay aside their prejudices,
and believe that Jesus is the Messiah ; that the
Mahometans shall perceive their errours, and
acknowledge no other prophet but Jesus of
Nazareth ; in short, that, the glory of the Lord
shall yet arise upon those who now sit in dark-
ness, and their light shall come.

The conversion of the Jews to the faith of
Christ, is an event generally expected to take
place in the latter days. For this they seem
to be miraculously reserved by divine provi-
dence. For notwithstanding innumerable
persecutions, captivities, changes and revolu-
tions ; in spite of many attempts to incorpo-
rate them with the nations among whom
they have lived, they still remain a separate
and distinct people, professing their ancient
national faith, and governed by their own pe-
culiar customs and manners; and this unfortu-
nate nation still remains separate and distinct
from all the nations of the earth, a dispersed,
persecuted and despised race, a standing proof
of the truth of revelation, a striking instance of

62 SERMON IV.

the divine vengeance against infidelity and dis-
obedience, and we trust, a fit subject for the
display of the divine glory in their conversion
and restoration. For that the rejection of the
Jews is not final and perpetual we have the
authority of many plain and certain predic-
tions interpreted by an infallible apostle. The
prophet Isaiah, after foretelling the advent of
the Messiah and the glories of his reign, thus
describes the conversion of the Gentiles and the
subsequent restoration of the Jews. '' In that
*' day there shall be a root of Jesse which shall
'* stand for an ensign to the people: to it shall
*' the Gentiles seek ; and his rest shall be glori-
^' ous. And it shall come to pass in that day,
*^ that the Lord shall set his hand again, the
** second time, to recover the remnant of his
'* people which shall be left. And he shall set
^^ up an ensign to the nations, and shall assem-
*' ble the outcasts of Israel, and gather together
*' the dispersed of Judah from the corners of
^' the earth." The apostle Paul likewise says,
^' I would not that ye were ignorant of this,
'' that blindness in part has happened to Israel
'^ until the fulness of the Gentiles be come
'' in, and then all Israel shall be saved."
When or hoxv tJiis desirable event shall take

SERMON IV. 63

place, we are not told, and therefore are not
authorized to conjecture: whether the conver-
sion of the Jews shall be previous or subse-
quent to the conversion of those other nations
who still refuse the yoke of Jesus. Whether
they shall be brought in by degrees separately
and individually, or at once in one great body,
and with the consent of the whole nation, are
points which no man can, with certainty, de-
termine. Their opinion is the most proba-
ble in itself, and most consonant to the pro-
phesies on this subject, who suppose, that,
after they have endured the various curses pro-
nounced on their infidelity, the Lord, in his
own time and way, will gather them, as their
great Legislator predicts, from among the na-
tions whither he had scattered them, and with
an outstretched arm will lead them in tri-
umph to take possession of the land of their
fathers. This will be an event of such mag-
nitude and splendour, it will be so decided a
proof of the truth of Christianity, that none
can possibly avoid conviction — all the nations
of the earth, shall hasten into the Redemer's
fold — the sheep of Jesus shall be brought from
afar; they shall fly as a cloud driven by the

64 SERMON IV.

wind, and flock together as doves to their win-
dows.

The conversion of the followers of Moham-
med to the Christain faith is also an event
which, though not in particular and express,
yet in general language, we are taught by the
sacred oracles to expect. As I had occasion
to observe and illustrate in a former discourse,,
though we may justly lament that Christianity
has not been equally successful, yet the exten-
sive propagation of Mahommedan faith ought
not to excite much regret ; because in many
respects it is a proper forerunner to the gospel^
and well calculated to pave the way for Its in-
troduction. By means which Christianity
does not allow its professors to employ, Mo-
hammed diffused knowledge and civilization
among nations formerly rude and barbarous.
He taught, together with an excellent system
of morals, the belief of one God, and of a
future state of rewards and punishments, which
are the necessary foundations of every system
of religion. The Mohammedans are fettered
with fewer prejudices than the Jews. They
have a high respect for Jesus, and believe his-
divine mission ; and should the time arrive
when, delivered from the shackles of despot-

SERMON IV. 6^

ism, they shall enjoy the privilege of calm dis-
cussion and free inquiry, errour and imposture
will speedily disappear before the light of truth.
This period, moreover, appears to be at no
great distance. The general weakness and de-
cay which are apparent in all Mohammedan
States; the rapid progress which a Christian
Princess, seconded by the hardy sons of the
north, has lately made towards the universal
empire of Asia ; the extensive settlements made
by another great commercial nation in an op-
posite quarter of that populous and extensive
country, all indicate the speedy overthrow of
the temporal power of Mohammed ; and with
this the spiritual dominion will fall of course.
Christianity was propagated by argument, its
evidence rests on sound and immutable reason;
and, therefore, it cannot fall as long as human
nature continues the same. But the religion
of Mohammed was propagated by the sword ;
it is still interwoven with the political constitu-
tion ; and, therefore, when the power of the
sword shall, with whatever views of ambition
or of policy, be wrested from its professors, it
will have no support, the whole system will
tumble into ruins, like a building wiiose foun-
dation is removed. There is no religion but

VOL. II. K

66 SERMON IV,

the Gospel that can bear the fiery trial of per-
secution and affliction.

But not only do we expect that the Jews and
Mahometans shall hear Christ's voice, and be
brought into his fold, the Sacred Oracles men-
tion other sheep besides these which shall also
be brought in. They predict an era when the
knowledge of the Lord shall cover the whole
earth; when the heathen and unenlightened
nations shall enjoy with us the benefits of
knowledge and the blessings of religion. To
an event so wonderful and so glorious, we dare
scarcely lift our imagination, much less can
we pretend to point out the means by which it
may be accomplished. We rest with confi-
dence in this, that he who hath foretold it is
able to bring it to pass, and we believe that the
Lord will hasten it in his good time. At the
time when our Lord uttered the sentiment in
the text, the conversion of the Gentiles was an
event equally as improbable as the farther pro-
pagation of the Gospel is, in the present days,
to nations barbarous and uncivilized, whom
the foot of the traveller has never visited; on
whom the day of science and religion has not
yet dawned. Who could have supposed that
Jesus, addressing a company of Jews in the

SERMON IV. 67

landof Judea, alluded even to a country which
was then undiscovered, and meant that he had
sheep on these distant shores, who, eighteen
hundred years after his crucifixion should hear
his voice and be brousfht into his fold ? The
numerous discoveries which of late years have
been made ; the regular and easy intercourse
which by means of navigation may be carried
on between the most distant regions; the spi-
rit of adventure which, in this commercial age,
prevails in many Christian countries; furnish
advantages which could not have been found
in any preceding period. To the honour of
the British nation and of human nature I men-
tion, that the most strenuous exertions are ma-
king among that people to improve the present
favourable circumstances; that many, anima-
ted with a noble zeal for the cause of truth and
of Christianity, have formed themselves into
societies for the propagation of the Gospel ;
and that missions are actually instituted for the
conversion of the South-Sea Islanders, of the
Hindoos, and of the American Indians.

It is our duty to co-operate with them, as far
as lies in our power in advancing the common
cause of Christianity. It is our duty, and it
is also in pur power, to recommend religion by

68 SERMON IV.

our example ; to show, by the influence which
it has on our heart and conduct, that it is wor-
thy of all acceptation ; and to offer up our pray-
ers to heaven, that the gospel may have free
course and be glorified, that the kingdoms
of this world may become the kingdoms of our
Lord and of his Christ ; that there may be one
fold and one shepherd.

JSTote — The illustration of the third division of this subject^
as projected by the authour, was not found among his manu-
scripts.

SERMON V.

PART I.

On the holy sacrament of the Lord*s Supper,

Luke, Chap. 22, Verse 15^

" With desire I have desired to eat this passover with
you, before I suffer."

The passover was an anniversary festival cel-
ebrated by the Jews, in commemoration of
their deliverance from Egyptian bondage.
Jesus, who came not to destroy the law but to
fulfil it, had always set before his followers an
example of all-righteousness, and had been
punctual therefore in discharging even those
ritual and ceremonial observances which were
imposed on the Jews by the law of Moses.
We find him attending the publick worship in
the synagogues; we find him making the
customary offerings and oblations in the tem-
ple, and we read of him, on former occasions,
regularly and zealously going up to Jerusalem

70 SERMON V.

to celebrate with his countrymen this grand
feast of the passover. But we learn, from the
preceding part of the history, that the ap-
proach of this particular festival, here alluded
to, was accompanied with more important pre-
paration than had ever been the case on any
former occasion. The reason was, that the
baptism wherewith he was to be baptized drew
near, and he was straitened 'till it was accom-
plished. He foresaw, that, on this occasion,
his soul was to be offered up unto God ; that
his enemies would triumph over him; and
that his life of trouble was to be finished by an
ignominious death. This was the last time
that he should eat the passover with his disci-
ples, until it was fulfilled in the kingdom of
God. But though these gloomy prospects lay
before him, and he felt with the deepest sensi-
bility of soul the wounds which they inflicted,
yet we do not find that he was at all discour-
aged or dismayed. On the contrary, he went
up to Jerusalem not merely with resignation,
but even with boldness, alacrity and cheerful-
ness. Instead of shrinking from tlie conflict,
and seeking to avoid by flight or concealment
the place or the occasion of his troubles and
persecution, he went up in a more open and

SERMON V. 71

magnificent manner than heretofore ; and even
vehemently desired. to eat this passover with his
disciples. With a generosity, of which he
is the only example, he was less affected by
the consideration of his own sufferings than he
was encouraged and elevated by the happiness
he was to secure to his followers. For the joy
that was set before him he cheerfully endured
the cross, despising the shame.

But what, no doubt, chiefly occupied his
thoughts on occasion of this passover, and
which was the cause of that desire which he
had to celebrate it, was the favourable oppor-
tunity which it presented of instituting a sim-
ple, but significative and solemn service, which
would tend to recall the remembrance of him,
when he was gone from them ; which would
be a token and memorial of the familiarity and
friendship which tliey had enjoyed with him
for several years ; and which would be a dis-
tinguishing badge of his followers in all suc-
ceeding ages.

This appears to be the meaning and scope
of the verse. But what seems no less worthy
of attention, is the contrast which may be re-
marked between the disposition and conduct of
our Saviour on this occasion, and those of his

n SERMON V.

professed followers when the Christian passo*
ver, which is the substitute of the Jewish, is
about to be celebrated. With whatever bitter
herbs this festival was accompanied to our
Lord, he not only cheerfully partook of it, in
obedience to his father*s will, and in conformi-
ty to the great design of his mission into the
world, but he even felt an anxious desire to
be present at this feast, though he knew that
bonds and imprisonment and death awaited
him. How different this from the conduct of
his followers, who, notwithstanding it is their
express duty to partake of the Christian pass-
over, notwithstanding it is a most delightful
feast to every worthy partaker, notwithstanding
it is accompanied with unspeakable advanta-
ges, not only to individuals but to the Church
in general, do yet either perform this duty with
lukewarmness and indifference, or are found
to be absent when this ordinance is to be cele-
brated, or perhaps absolutely refuse to perform
it, consider it as a duty of slight obligation and
trifling importance, and thus trample under
foot the blood of the covenant wherewith we
are sanctified.

This, my brethren, is a conduct which I
have often had occasion to mention with aston-

SERMON V. 73

ishment, regret and disapprobation. I have
from time to time addressed to you such ex-
hortations as I thought would have some
weight, at least, with the serious and well dis*
posed ; and I had begun to Jiopc, that my re-
monstrances had, at last, awakened some to a
sense of the obligation and importance of this
solemn ordinance. But alas ! the righteous-
ness of many among us is as the morning cloud
and the early dew which soon pass away.
Some who heretofore were punctual in dis-
charging this duty do now regularly absent
themselves from church on a communion Sab-
bath. Others who do communicate are not
sufficiently attentive to recommend this neces-
sary duty to others, especially their children,
relatives and dependents. The young and
rising generation are thus left ignorant in reli-
gious things, and, if we may judge from out-
ward appearances, scarcely reflect that they
have immortal spirits to be saved; that they
are sinful creatures who need a Saviour ; or
that they came into the world for any other
purpose than to prosecute the gaieties and fri-
volities of fashion and amusement, or, at best,
to pursue the trifling and short-lived objects
of the present life. As we have the prospect

VOL. IT. J.

74 SERMON V.

of celebrating next Sabbath the holy ordi-
nance of the Lord's supper, I think it my du-
ty once more to return to the charge, and en-
deavour to excite in the members of this con-
gregation a more general desire than has hith-
erto been manifested of eating the Christian
passover.

For this purpose I propose to dedicate this
day to a preparatory service for the more so-
lemn service of next Sabbath : and by the
number of applications for admission to the
communion which shall be made, in the course
of the week, I shall be able to determine
whether there is yet remaining sufficient reli-
ligion and virtue to be operated upon by mo-
tives of duty and even interest, or whether it
will be of any avail ever to renew this subject
again. In this and the following discourse
therefore I shall endeavour ;

In the first place, to point out the obliga-
tions which all Christians are under to cele-
brate the sacrament of the Lord's supper:

Secondly, in order to shew you that it is your
interest as well as your duty, and in order to con-
vince you that to eat the Christian passover is
an honour and privilege which we ought
earnestly to desire, I will endeavour to point

SERMON V. 75

out some of those innumerable advantages
which are derived from partaking of the Lord's
supper;

And lastly, I shall endeavour, briefly, to
describe the preparation which is most suit-
able on such an occasion, that you may dis-
charge this duty in a good and acceptable
manner.

I. In the first place, I am to point out the
obligations which Christians are under to cele-
brate the sacrament of the Lord's supper. And

First, we are bound to celebrate the sacra-
ment of the Lord's Supper by the express com-
mand of our Lord enjoining us to do so. It
is a common but gross and fatal mistake to
suppose that the sacrament, though a proper
and good thing, is not a strict duty binding in-
discriminately on all who profess the gospel,
that it is left to our own option whether we shall
partake of it or not, that by receiving it we in-
deed perform an important act of virtue and
are entitled to exalted praise, but that no posi-
tive guilt is incurred by absenting ourselves
from the ordinance. But what constitutes
moral obligation? It is the authority of the
lawgiver by whom the action is commanded
or forbidden. The destinction of moral and

76 SERMON V.

positive precepts lessens not the strictness of the
obligation of either. If the former are made
known to us by the dictates of reason and con-
science, the latter proceed from a source no
less pure and infallible, from God himself
speaking to us in his word. If moral precepts
are consistent with the eternal rectitude and
fitness of things, it is no less so for creatures to
obey the will of their Creator in whatever he
is pleased to command. Who ever violates a
positive precept acts in direct opposition to the
eternal fitness of things, which laid him under
an obligation to obey that positive precept. He
is guilty of sin, no less than he who violates
a moral precept, because he equally insults the
authority of the lawgiver and infringes his right
to obedience. To get rid therefore of the
obligation which we are under to celebrate the
sacrament of the supper, we must either dis-
avow the authority of Jesus as a lawgiver or
deny the existence of the precept. The former
will be a bold and difficult step — to reject the
authority of him whom winds and waves
obey, who hath the keys of hell and of death,
who shutteth and none can open, who openeth
and none can shut. Or if we might possibly
be foolish and unhappy enough now to con-

SERMON V. 77

€€al from our own minds this interesting truth,
that, Jesus is our lawgiver and will be our
judge, yet we shall not be able to do so in that
day, when, seated on a tribunal of justice, his
language shall be *^ those mine enemies, who
** would not that I should reign over them,
'^ bring hither and slay them before me."

The other evasion is equally impossible.
For though too many are but little acquainted
with their Bible, their is none who can read or
who has ever frequented the house of God
who knows not, that, the Lord Jesus, the same
night in which he was betrayed, took bread, and
wheyi he had given thanks, he brake it, and
said. Take, eat; this is my body broken for you;
this do in remembrance of me. After the same
manner he took the cup when he had supped, and
said. This cup is the new testament of my blood:
this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance
of me. For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink
this cup, ye do shew forth the Lord's death till
he come.

Let no man then pretend to suppose, that,
it is a matter of indifference whether he com-
municate or not. For, from what has been
now said, it appears to be as much your duty
to communicate as it is to remember the Sab-

78 SERMON V.

bath day to keep it holy, or to honour your
father and mother. You are equally guilty of
sin in neglecting to communicate as if you took
the name of the Lord your God in vain ; or
were guilty of murder, adultery and theft.
For the same Lawgiver who says remember the
Sabbath day to keep it holy, and honour your
father and your mother, also says, do this in
remembrance of me. He who has forbidden
profane swearing and murder, has also pro-
nounced accursed every one who continueth
not in all things written in the book of the
law to do them. And not only is the omis-
sion of communicating sinful, but it is, more*
over, a sin of the deepest dye and of the most
aggravated nature.

For, in the second place, we are bound to cel-
ebrate the sacrament of the Lord^s supper, by
the strongest of all ties, those of gratitude and
love. Consider the occasion and design of
the institution. It was appointed to assist us
in recalling to mind one whom, were it not
for our corrupt and treacherous hearts, we
could never forget, him who is the greatest
and best friend of the human race; to com-
memorate an event the most striking that oc-
curs in the annals of mankind, an event de-

SERMON V. 79

monstrative of love and grace unparalleled,
and productive of unspeakable benefits to the
human race. Viewed in this light every prin-
ciple in our nature calls upon us to draw near
and contemplate this wonderful thing.

Do this in remembrance of me — said our
blessed Saviour when he instituted this ordi-
nance. How impressive and significant are
these words ! The circumstances in which
they were uttered, might serve instead of com-
ment and paraphrase to those who heard them,
but to us at this distance of time, who are
moreover slow of heart to believe, and still
slower to obey, some farther illustration may
be requisite. '* My beloved disciples, would
'* he have said, you have already been wit-
** nesses to the unrelenting malice of my ene-
'' mles, to the persecution of the Scribes and
'* Pharisees, and to the violent opposition
*' which I have been forced to encounter in
'* the prosecution of the great design of re-
'* deeming the human race. But whatevel*
** diflficulties I have hitherto met with, how-
'' ever great my past sufferings have been, yet
** they bear no proportion to those which I
*' am shortly tosufl:er. For I must now be ex-
'* posed not only to the relentless rage of the

80 SERMON V.

<^ Scribes and Pharisees, and to the Insatiable
«* fury of an incensed multitude, but also to
^* the united strength and attacks of all the
** powers of darkness. But this is not all. I
*^ have a severer baptism to be baptized w^ith;
<* I am not only forced to fight with men and
^* devils ; but, as Jacob contended and wrest-
" led with the angel till he obtained a bles-
'" sing, so must I this night wrestle and strive
'' in prayer with God, till I obtain pardon and
'« blessing for the fallen sons of Adam. I am
** now to feel the whole weight of my father's
'^ dreadful wrath and indignation for all the
" sins of the world. Your zeal and affection
<* for me have hitherto kept you closely at-
<* tached to me, but the time is at hand, when
" I must be deprived even of this consolation,
** and shall be left alone, to sustain the whole
'* shock of divine displeasure at human guilt,
*' like sheep without a shepherd, you will all
** of you be soon scattered, every one to his
" own home : and I shall be left in a situation
*« so deserted and forlorn that even God himself
" shall, for a while, seem to forsake me. Then
'* shall I be delivered up into the power of
" mine enemies to be abused and evil intreated,
*Mo be mocked and scourged, to be crucified

SERMON V. 8)

*< and slain. But all this will I readily and
«' cheerfully undergo for the benefit of man-
*' kind, that I may turn my Father's just indig-
** nation from his guilty offspriiig, that I may
'* redeem the captive sinner from the guilt
'^ and the dominion of sin, and that I may thus
** reconcile all the redeemed unto God in one
'^ body by the cross.

'' But while I do and suffer so much for you,
*' all that I require in return for such love and
'* kindness is, that, you affectionately remem-
'* ber and gratefully commemorate what I
" have already suffered and am still farther to
*' suffer in your room, and for your benefit.
^' I therefore leave it, as my last and dying
" order to you all, and to all who shall come
*^ after you, that you do, by the constant celc-
'* bration of this holy sacrament, perp(?tuate
*^ and keep up a continual remembrance of
'* my sufferings and death, until the time of
*' my second coming. By breaking of bread,
^' as you see me do, you will, in a lively man-
" er, represent and set forth the wounding and
"bruising of my body by the Jews. By
** eating it, you will naturally be put in mind
" of those benefits which are procured by my
** death. The pouring out of the v^ine will

VOL. ir. M

m SERMON V,

*^ naturally remind you of my blood, which
^' is soon to be shed for the remission of sins.
'' The drinking of it will serve to shew the
'' efficacy of my blood in cleansing and puri-
*^ fying the soul. And your partaking of
*^ both will be sufficient to signify that as your
*' bodies are strengthened and refreshed by
*' bread and wine, so your souls are comforted
'' and sustained by the power and efficacy of
•* my death, and by those heavenly influences
*' and constant supplies of divine grace which,
^* for my sake, are conveyed and imparted to
*^ you, and to all Christians, in the due and
^' faithful receiving of this holy sacrament/'

Who, now, that considers Jesus Christ as his
Saviour, and views the communion in this light,
does not perceive the obligation he is under
to celebrate it ? While we stand in need of a
Saviour, we are bound to commemorate what
that Saviour has done for us. While we want
a faithful Mediator to stand in the breach for
us, we ought, unquestionably, to remember
the inestimable blessings which are purchased
and secured by his death and intercession.
For how can we lay any claim to the mer-
its of the Saviour, if we do not follow his di-
rections or obey his commands. Will the

SERMON V. 85

despised and neglected Jesus remember those
ungrateful, disobedient servants of his, when
they shall appear before him, in his kingdom
of glory hereafter, who would never vouch-
safe, in his kingdom of grace here on earth, to
do so small a matter in remembrance of him
as to receive the sacrament of his body broken
and blood shed for their sakes ? What can
such a neglect proceed from but a disregard
for this merciful Saviour, a forgetfulness of his
love and compassion, a base ingratitude to his
memory, and a shameful disobedience to his
commands ? What rudeness and incivility, to
say no worse, must it be to turn our backs,
with coldness and indifference, on the Lord's
table, when we would reckon it a breach of
good-manners to slight a civil invitation from
a neighbour or a friend ? What blindness and
stupidity must it be to refuse the gracious in-
vitation of our Saviour to partake of this hea-
venly banquet ? to spurn at the offer of pardon
and peace freely made us in this sacrament ?
If love be naturally productive of love, if
friendship merit a correspondence in kindness,
what is not due to him whose love was stronger
than death, who is a friend that sticketh clo-
ser than a brother?

84 SERMON V.

3, We are bound to celebrate the sacra-
ment of the Lord's supper by a regard to the
honour of Christianity . The gospel is a system
of religion accompanied with less outward
ceremony and show than any other system
which was ever disclosed to the world . Among
the few simple rites which it prescribes this is
by much the most important. It may in truth
be called the distinguishing badge of Chris-
tianity. By adopting this badge we acknow-
ledge the society to which we belong: we pro-
fess to glory in the crosi of Christ, Prayer and
praise, and the duties of morality are com-
mon to every religion. We might attend the
church, practise devotion, and live outwardly
a good moral life, and yet disbelieve the whole
revelation of God. For in these things what
do we more than others. Do not even the
Jew, the Mahometan and the Infidel do
likewise? If we would be thought followers
of Christ we must practise those duties which
he has, more particularly, prescribed as the
badges of our calling. Hereby shall all men
know that we are his disciples, if we zeal-
ously and regularly perform the solemn act of
eating his flesh and drinking his blood.

I do not mean to affirm that all who absent

SERMON V. S5

themselves from communion are enemies
of the the gospel. I know that many would
be greivously offended at such a suppo-
sition. But I must say, that, if you real-
ly believe the awful truths of religion, your
principles and your practice are much at va-
riance. In times of danger and division,
every man must choose a side openly, and
abide by it firmly. In an age when the love
of many waxes cold, when the most open and
lamentable defection from the cause of Chris-
tianity prevails, when its enemies are nume-
rous and daring beyond example or prece-
dent, he that is not for us is against us. If
he be not, absolutely, ranked with the ene-
mies of God, his friendship will certainly be
regarded with suspicion and jealousy. Luke-
warmness and indifference are often more fatal
to a cause than avowed enmity and opposi-
tion. The disregard of religious ordinances
emboldens the infidel and discourages the
friends of religion. As therefore you regard
the interest and glory of your Redeemer; as
you would wish his religion to spread and
flourish in the world; nay as you would not
wish that Christianity, government, morality
and law should be blotted out from the face of

86 SERMON V.

the earth, step forward, show that you are not
ashamed to own your Lord in the midst of a
crooked and perverse generation; prove by
the observance of this solemn act which I now
recommend, that the number of Christ*s friends
is not so small as the enemy may be ready to
suppose. Blessed indeed would be the con-
sequences, if a whole people would with one
heart and one voice thus avow their principles.
It would strike terrour and dismay, into the
enemies of our faith ; it would awaken the
most thoughtless and unconcerned ; it would
decide the doubtful and wavering to the cause
of truth; it would encourage the young and
timorous; it would revive decayed religion and
godliness, and the glory of the Lord would
yet dwell in our land. But, on the contrary,
if the same disregard of the ordinances of re-
ligion which characterizes this age still con-
tinue or proceed any farther, the only conclu-
sion I can perceive will be, that the know-
ledge and practice of Christianity will gradu-
ally disappear from among men. Then as-
suredly you may not only bid adieu to every
thing good and valuable in the present life,
but you may extend your views to the future,
and reflect on that declaration of our Lord,

SERMON V. 87

'* Whosoever shall be ashamed of mc, and of
** my words, in this adulterous and sinful gen-
'* eration, of him also shall the Son of man
^^ be asliaiued, when he comcih in the glory
'* of his Father with his holy angels/*

4. All Christians are bound to celebrate the
sacrament of the supper, by their baptismal
vows. Some may suppose that being bap-
tized at a period when they were incapable of
entering personally into any engagements,
they are not at all bound by any thing done
by their parents or sponsors. This however is
certainly an errour; at least it is not consistent
with what happens every day in common life.
The engagements of the representative are
binding on those who are represented; the
heir is bound to fulfil the contracts of the tes-
tator ; th^ offspring are unavoidably aflt'ected
by the conduct of the progenitor. And if
the children or persons represented are bound
by the act of their substitute, much more are
the parents wh-o themselves entered into the en-
gagement; more especially until they are in
some measure exonerated by the children's
coming to the table of the Lord, and there as-
suming upon themselves those honourable and
beneficial engagements which their parents

g8 SERMON V.

formed for them at a period when they had
not understanding sufficiently mature to per-
ceive these advantages. It is the business of
parents, then, as they regard their own obliga-
tions or those of their children, to instruct
them early in the nature of the Christian doc*
trines and duties, more especially of this so-
lemn ordinance, and to urge them by argument
and authority to discharge so pressing a duty.
There are few parents who do not think them-
selves guilty of a great omission if they do
not, as soon as convenient, present their chil-
dren by baptism unto God. If death overtake
them before they have been admitted into the
bosom of the Christian society, the recollec-
tion of their neglect must press heavy on the
minds of the parents. But yet you have done
only half your duty unless you also bring
them with you to the table of the Lord, and a
second time present them, a ripened, reason-
able, and acceptable offering unto God.
How early this second dedication of your off-
spring should be made, it is impossible to de-
termine. If you have been at due pains to
endow their infant minds with the rudiments
of religious knowledge, the fit season of com-
municating is earlier than may be imagined.

SERMON V. 89

They that are taught to seek God early shall
find him. Certain it is, that many think
themselves capable of acting for themselves,
and of forming some of the most important
engagements in life, who yet pretend that
they are too young to perform this indispens-
able duty. But these I cannot rank with the
wise and the worthy — they are destitute of a
sense of duty ; they cannot possibly feel any
regard for the Master they pretend to serve, or
put any value on what he has done for them
— they are indifferent to the interests of reli-
gion— they are faithless even to their baptis-
mal vows.

These important truths I have thought it my
duty to lay before you, with the hope, that
they will yet have some effect upon such as
are not lost to all the holy precepts of our re-
ligion : and with all others it were vain to ar-
gue, because success is desperate.

VOL. TI. N

SERMON VL

PART II.

Oil the holy sacrament of the Lord's supper

Luke, Chap. 22, Verse 15.

^ With desii'e I have desired to eat this passover with
you, before I suffer."

In a former discourse from these words, after
endeavouring to explain their occasion and
import, I directed your attention to a subject
which, though not expressly pointed out in
the text, has at least an intimate connection
with it; I mean the general neglect of that
holy ordinance instituted by our Lord when
he uttered the words of the text. With a
view to excite in you an eager desire to eat
the Christian passover which is to be celebra-
ted among us, I proposed,

1 . To point out the obligations which Chris-
tians are under to celebrate the holy sacra«
ment of the supper.

SERMON VI. «

2. To point out some of those innumer-
able advantages which are derived from the
worthily receiving of the Lord's supper. And

3. To describe the preparation which is
necessary in order to discharge this duty in an
acceptable manner.

I. The first head of discourse we have al-
ready illustrated, and shewn, that all Chris-
tians are bound to celebrate the holy sacrament
by our Lord's express command — by love and
gratitude for what he has done for us, and for
the benefits which we derive from his death —
by a regard for the honour and success of re-
ligion— and by our baptismal vows. When
these considerations are duly weighed, I am
altogether at a loss to comprehend what it is
that prevents so many from cheerfully em-
bracing every opportunity to discharge a duty
so important. I cannot possibly suppose that
rational beings will sufler themselves to be in-
fluenced by false shame, or by fashion, or evil
example, in a matter of such infinite moment.
'^ For it is not a vain thing which we now de-
'* clare unto you : it is even your life." Nei-
ther will they who weigh the objects of time
and those of eternity in a fair balance, who im-
partially estimate pleasure and duty, be satis-

9^ SERMON VI.

fied in their own minds with the excuse of
too much business or worldly engagement.
Much less will this excuse be accepted by the
great Judge, in whose estimation duty is par-
amount to every other obligation: whose lan-
guage is Thisoughtest thou to have done, and
not to leave the other done. The reason
therefore which prevents serious and consider-
ate persons from discharging so indispensable
and obvious a duty is, either, that they are
conscious of their being engaged in a ^inful
course of life inconsistent with the genius and
spirit of the Gospel, or they entertain such an
enthusiastick and conceited opinion of their
own righteousness and devotion, as to despise
the elements of ordinances, and to be above
the necessity of outward acts of religion. Or
perhaps they are far removed from either of
these extremes, but have not attained a full
assurance of faith, and are filled with doubts
and fears about their want of preparation, and
unfitness to make so solemn an approach unto
God.

With regard to those, who do not approach
the communion because they are engaged in
such vicious courses as render them unfit for
so solemn a service, it may be observed, that.

SERMON VI. 93

they might as well on this account cease their
attendance on the Church, because they can-
not tread God's courts or otVer up prayers to
him in an acceptable manner. For the sacri-
fice of the wicked is an abomination to the
Lord at all times and in all places, in private
and in publick, in the ordinary as well as in
the more solemn exercises of religion. But
then you would do well to consider, that, if
you are unfit for the Church, you are also un-
fit for heaven; if your vices prevent you from
appearing among the friends of Jesus at his
table they will also exclude you from the
blessed society of his followers above. And
what a dreadful situation is this, when every
moment your fate may be decided either for
happiness or misery? Every person of com-
mon sense, who for a moment reflects on this,
must instantly resolve to remove this cause of
his neglect of the communion by sincere re-
pentance for his past sins, and a complete de-
sertion of his vicious courses for the future.

With regard to those who presume upon
their own righteousness for acceptance with
God, who think that they live good lives and
therefore have no occasion for the help of or-
dinances to repair their fall? or excite them to

94 SERMON VI.

greater zeal and diligence, I must remind
them of the declaration of our Saviour, *' that
*' we are at best unprofitable servants/' And
of the assertion of St. John, '^ if we say that
^^ we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and
*' the truth is not in us.'' Nay, so far from
being free from sin, in how many things will
not a candid man confess that he daily of-
fends? If we should avoid the more gross
transgressions of the law, yet how many fail-
ures and omissions, how many vain thoughts,
and foolish irregular desires, how many rash
and sinful expressions have we not all to an-
swer for? If, then, when we have done all
that man can do, we are still unprofitable ser-
vants, if we are all very far from doing whalf
God might in strict justice demand of us, then
tell me, ye who call yourselves, and who
would be thought by others, good moral men,
whether you do not want a Saviour and a Me-
diator? one who may interpose between God
and you ? one who may turn away his fierce
anger, and screen you from the dreadful ef-
fects of his indignation ? one who may, by his
own merit, supply the deficiency of your im-
perfect services? one that may intercede with
(?od to forgive your manifold sins and offences ?

SERMON VI. 95

one who may pour on you the blessed influ-
ence of the Holy Spirit, to enable you to dis-
charge your duty for the time to come? If
then you do want such a Saviour, you must
carefully and conscientiously obey all that Sa-
viour's commands, before you can possibly be
$aved by him ; and as he has commanded you
to receive the holy sacrament, you must, with-
out any longer delay, shew your love for his
memory, and your obedience to his command,
by doing this in remembrance of him.

With regard to those who go to neither of
these extremes, who are not conscious of in-
dulging in vicious courses, nor vainly presume
upon their own righteousness, but who are
compassed about with many cares and infir-
mities, and therefore think themselves unfit
for so solemn an approach to God, it may be
observed, that, the Gospel always leaves room
for reconciliation and restoration upon repen-
tance and amendment of life. Nothing can
make us unworthy to receive the sacrament,
but our resolving to continue unworthy. If
we repent sincerely of our past sins and resolve
to lead a new life for the future, then we may
safely go to the sacrament. ** For Christ
** came not to call the righteous, but sinners

96 SERMON VI.

<* to repentance." The fountain of his blood
was purposely opened to wash away and
cleanse the guilt of those sins and that un-
cleanness which is sincerely repented of and
forsaken. Therefore if we are truly sincere,
if we seriously and earnestly desire to serve
God to the best of our power, we need not
forbear going to the sacrament from an appre-
hension of our unworthiness; because this
sense of our unworthiness, with a serious and
sincere desire to become better, an humble
and thankful remembrance of Christ's death,
a lively faith in. God's mercies through him,
and love and charity for all the world, are the
best qualifications which we can possibly
bring with us to the holy sacrament.

Thus, my brethren, have I pointed out the
indispensable obligations you are under to cel-
ebrate the Lord's supper, and have shewn
that' in no case are you excusable for neglec-
ting this ordinance. And here I leave the
matter to God and to your own conscience. I
have set before you life and death ; and my
words will not return empty, whether you hear
or whether you forbear.

II. I now proceed to the second head of
discourse, which is, to point out some of those

SERMON Vr. 9t

innumerable advantages which are derived
from the worthily receiving of the Lord's sup-
per.

The benefits derived from the proper per-
formance of this duty are of two kinds ; such
as naturally flow from it, and such as arc in-
separably annexed to it.

Among the former we may reckon first a sin-
cere sorrow for sin, an utter abhorence of it^
and a determination to forsake it for ever.
When we see with our eyes, and hear with
our ears, and handle with our hands its bitter
fruits, in the sufferings of our Redeemer^ it is
impossible not to feel compunction of soul
and self-condemnation for having been the
cause of so much wo to our greatest and best
friend. When we behold how abominable sin
is in the sight of God, so as to draw down his
indignation even on the son of his love, how can
we any longer dare to continue therein ? The
very solemnity of the approach to the table must
tend powerfully to make us stand in awe and
sin not. The consideration of the public profes-
sion we have made to live blameless and with-
out guile will ever afterwards be present to our
minds, as a salutaiy check, when we are
tempted to commit sin. Our language wil!

95 SERMON VL

be, *'how can I do this great wickedness who
^' have been at the table of the Lord/* In
short, the very preparation requisite for this
ordinance, the self-examination implied in it,
must have a happy tendency to shew us our
true state and character, to guard us against sin
and to excite us to greater purity and diligence.
Further, the sacrament has a natural tenden-
cy to strengthen and confirm our faith. It
subjects what is distant and unseen to the tes-
timony of our senses. It brings the wonder-
ful scenes transacted on Calvary full in our
view. It shews us the accomplishment of the
divine predictions. It assures us of the immu-
tability of thedivine love, and of God's fidelity
to his promises; for if he spared not his own
son, but delivered him up to the death for us
all, how shall he not with him also freely give
us all things? In short, it shews us by the most
lively emblems the abihty and willingness of
our Saviour to save us to the uttermost. What
will not he do for us who humbled himself
for our sakes even unto death? And must not
he be an all-sufficient Saviour who was made
perfect through sufferings? Who learned obe-
dience by the things which he endured? Who
having suffered being tempted is both able and
willing to succour those who are tempted ?

SERMON VI. 99

Again, the boly sacrament is naturally cal-
culated to awaken our love and gratitude to
our God and Redeemer. While we hold in
our hands the visible emblems of our Savioufs
body broken and blood shed for our sins, we
cannot possibly be so insensible as not to feel
our hearts burn within us at the recollection
of what he has done for us. While we are
actually partaking of the benefits derived from
his death, we cannot but feel emotions of gra-
titude and thankfulness. We will then feel
the love of Christ constraining us to love him
who first loved us. W^e will then think noth-
ing too much to do, or too much to suffer, for
so generous and beneficent a Saviour. It is
wonderful to observe the mighty influence
which tokens or memorials of love and friend-
ship have over the human mind. A ring or
a picture will call up a remembrance on which
the heart delights to dwell, and will revive a
love or friendship which distance of time or
place, or the interruptions of pleasure and
connections, had well nigh erased from the
heart. And shall the memorials of the
most wonderful love and friendship which
ever existed among men have no effect on
the hearts of those whg are the objects of it?

100 SERMON VL

A natural effect of communicating must be
the strengthening of that love and charity
which we ought to entertain for our brethren,
especially those of the household of faith.
The sacrament is a bond of union among all
true believers. While it unites them all to
Christ, it unites them also to one another ; for
we are required to keep the feast, not with the
leaven of malice and wickedness, and to be
reconciled to our brother, before we offer sa-
crifice at God's altar. While we are seated at
the same table, and partakers of the same
feast, we cannot possibly look upon one an-
other as enemies, " for how can two sit to-
^^ gether, unless they be agreed ?'' Nay we
must necessarily look upon all our fellow-
communicants as brethren and friends, as ser-
ving the same master, believing the same truths,
walking by the same rule, entertaining the
same hopes, and journeying to the same coun^
try. And how comely is it for brethren to
dw^ell together m unity? How unseemly for
fellow'-travellers to quarrel by the way ? How
natural for those who have similar interests
and pursuits to maintain kindness and con-
cord ?

The second kind of advantages derived from

SERMON VI. 101

this ordinance, are such as are inseparably
annexed to it when worthily received. Among
these, the first is, the confirmation of the par-
don of our sins. For to those who receive the
outward elements with true faith, they signify,
seal and apply Christ and all the benefits of
his death ; of v hich forgiveness and recon-
ciliation to God are the principal. Not that
the performance of this outward act, or even
that faith which accompanies it and renders it
acceptable in the sight of God, will entitle us
to paidon as a matter of right. We all know
that the meritorious cause of justification is the
righteousness of Jesus Christ. Faith is merely
an instrument which appropriates his merits to
ourselves. But as our receiving the symbols
of his body and blood in the holy sacrament
is an outward sign, on our part, of our in-
wardly accepting him by faith, so the celebra-
tion of this ordinance is a sign on God's part
of that inward act of justification which is al-
ready passed, in virtue of Christ's merit, on
all who sincerely believe. As the bow in the
cloud in the day of rain is not the reason why
God will not destroy the world by a deluge
any more, but merely a memorial of God's
promise to that effect, and therefore a con-

iO^ SERMON VI.

firmatlon and assurance to men that the world
will not be destroyed as heretofore, so the
sacred rite of the Lord's supper is a declara-
tion, a token, a proof that an expiation has
been made for the sins of men, that God is
now appeased and reconciled to his offending
offspring, that the hand writing against us is
destroyed, that we are now brought near by
the blood of the cross, and may approach unto
God as children to a father. And what an
unspeakable advantage is this, to have the
testimony of our senses corresponding to the
witness of our spirits, that we are the children
of God ? That as our bodies are refreshed by
bread, so our souls are healed by the stripes
laid on Christ's body, and as the wine restores
the sick and invigorates the whole, so our
souls, dead in trespasses and sins, are revived
and sanctified by Christ's blood ? The cup of
blessing which we bless is it not the com-
munion of the blood of Christ ? And the bread
which we break is it not the communion of
the body of Christ ? *' I am the living bread,'*
said our Saviour, *' which came down from
'* heaven ; if any man eat of this bread, he
'' shall live for ever ; and the bread that I will
•'^give is my flesh, which I will give for the

SERMON Vr. 103

*' life of the world. Whoso eatcth my flesh
**and drinketh my blood hath eternal life,
'^ and I will raise him up at the last day, for
*' my flesh is meat indeed, aiul my blood is
^' drink indeed."

Another advantage enjoyed by the worthy
receivers of the Lord's supper, is the confirma-
tion of their union with Jesus Christ, and a
more intimate communion with God. The
sacrament is the nearest approach to God that
we can make on this side the grave : in it he
is not only essentially present, as he is in every
place, and graciously present, as he is in all
the assemblies of his saints, but here he is
present in an especial manner, he is even
present, in some respect, to the senses of the
worshippers. For though we shall not be so
impious and absurd as to say that the outward
elements are converted into the real body and
blood of Christ, yet there can be no doubt
that they who rightly discern the Lord, elevate
their thoughts from the bread and wine to that
divine being whom they represent and signify.
They see him w^ho is invisible. They feel
that solemn awe which the presence of divinity
inspires. They are filled with that holy rap-
ture which Jacob felt when he awoke from a

104 SERMON VI.

dream wherein he had been favoured Witli
heavenly manifestations : ** How awful is this
'' place ! surely the Lord is here, and I knew
'^ it not; this is none other than the house of
*' God, and this is the gate of heaven/' In
like manner frequent participation of the holy
sacrament tends to unite us more closely to
our Redeemer. For, as the bread and wine
which we eat and drink become our own,
and are incorporated with our bodies, so, if, in
a spiritual and metaphorical sense, we feed
upon Christ by faith, he is, as it were, formed
within us ; we imbibe his spirit, we copy his
example, we derive life, and nourishment, and
strength from him ; we become united to him
as the wife is to the husband, we become flesh
of his flesh, and bone of his bone. '* He that
*' eateth my flesh and drinketh by blood,'*
saith our Lord, '' dwelleth in me, and I in
'* him. As the living father hath sent me, and
*' I live by the father; so, he that eateth me,
*' even he shall live by me."

A farther advantage, inseparably attached
to the worthy receiving of the Lord's supper.,
is the communication of the Holy Spirit. The
bread and wine are no more than the outward
and visible signs of an inward and spiritual

SERMON VI. 106

grace ; and these signs were ordained by Christ
himself, as the means by which we receive
this grace, and as pledges to assure us of its
fulness : what our daily food is to our bodies,
that the grace of God is to our souls. As the
former contributes to increase our stature, and
to repair the decays of nature, so does the latter
contribute to make us grow in grace and
knowledge, to proceed from one degree of
holiness to another, till we come to the stature
of perfect men, to the measure of the stature
of the fulness of Christ. This communication
of the gifts and graces of the Holy Spirit, is
universally represented in scripture as a feast
to the soul, as the mean by which the Chris-
tian life is maintained, revived and invigor-
ated. It is also, invariably, promised to those
who are found in the way of duty, who seek
it in the ordinances of God's appointment,
who, clothed with the wedding garment, par-
take of that sumptuous banquet, that feast of
fat tilings y of wines on the lees well refined j,
which is provided for us in the sacrament of
the supper. To prove this we need not search
with much diligence the volume of revelation,
the language of which is every where exprrss
to this purpose. It will be sufficient to appeal

VOL. II. p

106 SERMON VI.

to every devout worshipper, and ask whether^
at the table of the Lord, he has not actually
felt the gracious presence of the Divinity, and
the rich communications of his grace ? While
you handle the emblems of your Saviour's
broken body and shed blood, has not your
sorrow for your past sins and failings been
wonderfully awakened and increased ? has not
your faith been strengthened and confirmed ?
Las not your love to God glowed with a stronger
flame ? have not your minds been refreshed
and comforted ? have not the clouds of igno-
rance and doubt been dispelled ? have not
pious thoughts and virtuous resolutions sprung
up within you ? has not your wish been, that,
you could continue for ever in such delightful
company and exercise ? and have you not
arisen from this table more fortified against
temptation, more vigorous for the discharge
of your duty, more joyful in your own minds,
more elevated above the vain pursuits of earth,
and more desirous of the exercises and joys of
heaven ?

This leads me to observe, in the last place,
that, the worthy partakers of the Lord's sup-
per, enjoy peace of mmd, in this hfe, and the
comfortable assurance of happiness in the

SERMON VI. lor

future. *' My peace I leave with you," says
our Lord ; '' my peace I give unto you ; not
'* as the world giveth, give I unto you." This
solemn approach unto God diffuses over the
mind a calm serenity of temper, a dignified
superiority to the world and all its enjoyments,
to which the children of the earth are stran-
gers. As the hlood sprinkled on the lintels
and the door-posts of the Israelites freed them
from all apprehension of the visits of the de-
stroying angel, so the sacrament of the supper
gives rest to the weary and heavy laden,
speaks peace to the troubled conscience, and
silences the accusations of the guilty, by signi-
fying and sealing the application of Christ's
blood to our soul. It teaches us to look upon
ourselves as the sons of God, and therefore to
consider all the calamities and afflictions of
life as the merciful chastisements of a kind
father. It teaches them that they are the
friends of the most high, and therefore they
need fear no evil. It teaches them to consider
themselves as candidates for heaven, and there-
fore to keep on their way rejoicing, undisturbed
by the hopes or fears, the successes or disap-
pointments of this transitory life. It even
disarms death of it? sting, for it shews our Lord

lOS SERMON VI.

as experiencing the horrours of death and the
grave, and therefore as ready to compassionate
and succour his followers. It teaches us that
as he died and rose again, so all those who
sleep in Jesus shall awake from the sleep of
death, and rise and live for ever. Being com-
manded to be observed 'till he shall come
again, it is particularly calculated to impress
on our minds the expectation of that awful
and glorious day when he shall come in the
glory of his father, and attended by his holy
angels. For as he was once offered to bear
the sins of many, so to those who look for him
(and we cannot do so in a better manner than
by frequent commemoration of his death) he
will appear the second time without sin unto
salvation. In a word, at this feast there is
fulness of joy and rivers of pleasure. None
ever came to it duly prepared who was sent
empty away. None who ever partook thereof
with suitable affections of soul, arose from this
table dissatisfied, or with an ungratified desire.
All worthy receivers sit under the shadow of
this tree of life with great delight, and find the
fruit thereof sweet to their taste. Greater joy
is diffused through their soul, by the light of
God's countenance, than the wicked know

SERMON VI. 109

when their corn and wine do most ahound.
Nor is their joy transitory and deceitful Hke
that of the world. To endless ages shall they
have cause to bless the time when they retired
from the vanities of earth and learned to med-
itate at the table of the Lord.

III. I should now proceed to the third head
of discourse, which is to point out the prepa-
ration necessary to make us acceptable guests
at the table of the Lord. But feeling that I
am already exhausted in strength, and that the
time allo-tted for this day's duty is well nigh
spent, I shall defer this interesting subject for
the present : we shall at another season, my
brethren, discourse on this topick at large. I
shall therefore conclude with a reflection or
two relating to the subject. Nor can I state
them in a more comprehensive or correct man-
ner, than by repeating the answer given in
that complete and admirable system of divinity,
our larger catechism, to this question ; ** How
*' are they that receive the sacrament of the
*' Lord's supper to prepare themselves before
^' they come unto it ?" *' They that receive
*' the sacrament of the Lord's supper, are, be-
*^ fore ihey come, to prepare themselves there-
" unto, by examining themselvesof their being

110 SERMON VI.

*^ in Christ, of their sins and wants, of the truth
** and measure of their knowledge, faith, re-
'^ pentance ; love to God and the brethren ;
*^ charity to all men ; forgiving those that have
*^ done them wrong ; of their desires after
*' Christ, and of their new obedience ; and by
'* renewing the exercises of these graces by
'^ serious meditation and fervent prayer/* Let
a man examine himself, says St. Paul, and
so let him eat of that bread and drink of that
cup. Examine yourselves, whether ye be
in the faith ; prove your own selves. Purge
out the old leaven that ye may be as a new
lump : let no contentions or divisions be among
you, for we being many are one bread and
one body ; for we are all partakers of that one
bread. Let us keep the feast, not with old
leaven, neither with the leaven of malice and
wickedness, but with the unleavened bread
of sincerity and truth. *' If thou bring thy
** gift to the altar,'' said our Lord, *' and there
*' rememberest that thy brother hath ought
'^ against thee, leave there thy gift before the
'* altar, and go thy way : first be reconciled to
^' thy brother, and then come and offer thy
*' gift." '' I will wash mine hands in inno-
*' cence,'* said the Psalmist, '' so will I com-

SERMON VL 111

** pass thine altar, O Lord/' " Let us draw
'* near," says St. Paul, *' with a true heart, in
'* full assurance of faith, having our hearts
'* sprinkled from an evil conscience, and our
'^ bodies washed with pure water.'* And the
good Lord pardon every one that prepareth
his heart to seek God, though he be not clean-
sed according to the purification of the sanc-
tuary.

m

SERMON VII.

On Charity ; the ohligatio7is, sanctions a7id mo^
fives to the discharge of its numerous duties.

1. CoRiN. Chap. 14, Verse 1.
" Follow after charity."

How misery and pain were introduced into
a world framed by infinite goodness, and gov-
erned with perfect wisdom, is a question
which has presented itself to the mind of every
reflecting man. Whether the sorrows and
sufferings which abound in the universe, ori-
ginally formed a part of the divine plan, and
are a necessary ingredient in a probationary
state ; or whether they are a derangement of
the original system, and the consequence of
a deviation from the laws which the Creator
appointed to the moral beings on whom they
are inflicted ; or whether they are not partly
the effect of both these causes, appears beyond
the limits of human sagacity to determine.

SERMON Vir. us

The fact, however, is not the less certain
because we are unable to discover the cause.
Proceeding in this journey of human life, we,
here and there, meet with a few scattered
spots where the fruit of enjoyment grows ; but
the far greater part of our road presents to our
view nothmg but a bleak and desert wilder-
ness, where no beauty or verdure is to be
seen. Happy are we if briars and thorns do
not obstruct our path, if rocks and precipices
do not beset us on every hand.

But a question of more practical impor-
tance occurs ; Does this diminution of our
enjoyment add nothing to our virtue ? Yes,
certainly. If no dangers were to be avoided,
and no wants to be supplied, feeble would be
the motives to industry and exertion, which
are the great laws of our nature, and the chief
sources of our improvement. Were no suf-
fering to be endured, patience could not have
its perfect work. If we were mutually inde-
pendent, friendship, the balm of life, and love,
the sweetener of society, would be unknown
in the world. Were there no objects of dis-
tress, compassion would be an useless princi-
ple in the human frame. If, by an equal
distribution of fortune, the poor were removed

VOL. II. Q

114 SERMON VIL

out of the land, we could have no opportune
ty of practising works of charity and mercy.
When, therefore, we peruse the page of
history and read the details of the various
calamities, miseries and disasters, which, in
every age, have happened, at one time to
individuals, at another time to nations ; when,
in our own days, we behold in one quarter
of the earth the horrours of war and famine,
in another multitudes flying from their homes
to avoid the assassin and the murderer, wan-
dering in exile and pining in poverty ; when
we see, in a third, fair and flourishing cities
laid in ashes by the devouring element of
fire, their inhabitants cast upon the wide
world without habitation, and the industry of
many years blasted in a moment : when
around us and among us we behold many
labouring under disease, when we hear the
cry of the needy and the oppressed, and see
the tears of the widow and the fatherless, let
us not idly spend our time in inquiring how
all this comes to pass, in reasoning about its
consistency with the attributes of God, or in
speculation concerning the causes and pur-
poses of such an arrangement. On tlie con-
trary, let us encourage sentiments of pity and

SERMON VII. 115

compassion ; let us consider the miseries and
distresses of our fellow-men as the best lessons
which our great preceptor in holiness can
give us for the improvement of our social vir-
tues ; let us cheerfully embrace the oppor-
tunity presented to us of promoting the hap-
piness of the world, by relieving the distressed,
consoling the wretched, feeding the hungry
and clothing the naked. We shall thus con-
vert the unavoidable calamities of life into a
nurse of the most pleasing and amiable feel-
ing of the heart. Compassion, and its fairest
daughter, Charity,

In the language of sacred writ, charity has
for the most part a different meaning from its
usual acceptation in common language. In
the former, it expresses that general principle
of love to our neighbour, which leads us to
benevolent thoughts and beneficent actions of
every kind. In common language it is more
limited, being applied only to a particular
exertion of this general principle, and denotes
either that disposition which leads us -to enter-
tain a candid and favourable opinion of others ;
or that good will which is expressed in reliev-
ing the distresses and supplying the wants of
the poor and the wretched.

lie SERMON VII.

Having, on a former occasion, discoursed
to you of charity in its more general and ex-
tensive sense, as signifying tlie same thing
with the love of our neighbour. I shall now
endeavour to prevail upon all who hear me to
follow after chariti/ in its more limited sense,
'' to deal their bread to the hungry, to bring
^' the poor that are cast out to their house,
<^ when they see the naked to cover them,
*' and not to hide themselves from their own
^* flesh."

In discussing this subject I propose

I. To explain the obligations we are under
io follow after charity,

II. To consider the excuses which men em-
ploy to justify themselves to the world, and to
satisfy their own minds, for the neglect of this
duty.

III. To suggest some directions for the ex-
ercise of this duty ; and

IV. Lastly, to state those motives which
should induce you Xo follow after charity :

A plan, you will easily perceive, too ex-
tensive to be fully discussed in one discourse ;
but you have so often heard and are all so well
acquainted with topicks of this nature, that it
would be an affront to vou to consider the

SERMON Vll. U7

matter too minutely ; and you will readily
excuse me for saving you the trouble of listen-
ing to familiar truths.

I. The obligatioji of this duty will require
only a very short discussion ; for however
men may excuse themselves in particular
cases, and differ about the extent in which
charity ought to be practised, few are disposed
to dispute the duty itself.

That charity is a duty will appear with the
fullest evidence, if we listen to the voice of
naturCy of conscience^ and of revelation.

In a state of nature it is evident that all men
have an equal right to the earth and its pro*
ductions. But this state, if it ever existed,
could only be momentary. Possession itself
would constitute an exclusive right, and every
man would consider as his own the spot
which his body occupied, and the tree under
the shade of which he reclined. Superiour
wisdom, strength and industry, in conjunc-
tion with the kind aspect of providence, would
soon procure to those who possessed them a
larger share of the good things of this life.
The skilful and diligent would become rich ;
the idle and ignorant, unable to avail them-
selves of their natural rights, w^ould sink into

118 SERMON VII.

poverty and want. Thus would things pro-
ceed, until the present compUcated fabrick of
society was reared : 'till that distinction of
ranks, that inequality of fortune and condition
commenced, in consequence of which we
behold some clothed in purple and fine linen
and faring sumptuously every day, while
others can scarcely procure rags sufficient to
defend them against the severities of the sea-
son, and are glad to feed on the crumbs that
fall from the tables of the great.

In such a state of society are we placed.
Let us, then, inquire what claim the poor, in
this situation, have on the bounty of the rich.
I am far from saying that men are not entitled
to the fruit of their industry and good fortune ;
and that they ought to deny themselves the
conveniences of life till all their neighbours
have an equal share. But one thing you must
allow, namely, that whatever you possess,
properly speaking, belongs to the Almighty ;
for as you derive all things, even life itself,
from his bounty, you can only consider your-
selves as stewards of what he has given you.
If you obtained your possessions by inherit-
ance, it certainly was not owing to your own
merit that vou were born in affluence. If

SERMON VII. 119

your riches have been acquhed by the exertion
of your talents and industry, yH remember
that these are the gift of God, and that, without
the blessing of heaven, the best directed exer-
tions will prove ineffectual. You may plant
and water, but God alone giveth the increase.
It is he who sendeth rain and fruitful seasons,
filling us with food and gladness. It is the
dew of heaven which maketh grass to grow for
the cattle, and corn for the food of man. The
wind bloweth where it listeth ; and, without
the orders of him whom winds and waves
obey, it will not waft your vessel to its destined
port. Except the Lord build the house, they
labour in vain that build it : except the Lord^
keep the city, the watchman wake but in vain.
If therefore those good things which for a time
are intrusted to your management are not your
own, but the property of heaven, the obvious
inference is, that you are bound to employ
them in the manner which heaven has pointed
out.

Another thing which you must allow is,
that the poor as well as the rich are the children
of their common father in heaven . But where
is the father who does not allow his children
food and raiment ? Has a wise and good being

isro SERMON VII.

brought into existence creatures for whose
subsistence he has not provided ? By an ar-
rangement the most admirable and perfect,
ample provision is made by the Almighty for
the support of all his works. He clothes the
lilies of the field ; he feeds the fowls of the
air : he gives to the beasts of the forest their
meat in due season. And is his rational crea-
tion, who are much better than they, and on
whom he has stamped his own image, to be
alone neglected and left a prey to misery and
want ? No, certainly. The most poor and
wretched have provision made for them. It
is the will of heaven that they should subsist.
And where is this provision made but in the
abundance and superfluity of the rich ? To
this therefore they have a claim ; it is provided
for them. If the bounty of the rich be the
only means of their subsistence, it is plainly
the will of God that they should partake of it.
And the ivill of God is the duty of man.

It thus appears to be the law of nature, that
the rich should bestow a part of their goods to
relieve the poor. It is likewise the law of
conscience, which is nothing but the voice of
God speaking within us, with no less certainty
and efficacy than his works speak without.

SERMON Vli. 12 1

For every man, who has not entirely eradicated
all the sentiments of humanity, must be con^
scious, that there is a principle of cJompassion
in our frame which leads us to weep with
those who weep, and to sympathize with our
neighbour in distress. He who can contem-
plate the miseries of others without concern,
who, like the priest and levite in the gospel,
can behold with indifference his sick and
wounded and needy brother, and pass by un-
moved, is a monster in human shape, and in-
stead of obeying, he drowns that voice which
would inform him of his duty.

But though we may suppress the feelings of
nature, we cannot silence the voice of revela-
tion, the commands of which are equally posi-^
live on this subject, and occur in numberless
passages both of the Old and New Testament.
What says Moses, and what says Jesus Christ
with regard to the poor and the afflicted ?
Thus spake the Lord to his people the Jews :
-** If there be among you a poor man, of one
" of thy brethren, within any of the gates of
** the land which the Lord thy God giveth
'* thee, thou shalt not harden thy heart, nor
** shut thine hand from thy poor brother.
** Thou shalt surely give him, and thine hearl:

V©L. II, 1

12£ SERMON VII.

*' shall not be grieved when thou givest unto

'^ him, because that for this thing the Lord thy

'* God shall bless thee in all thy works and in

*' all thou puttest thine hand unto. For the

*^ poor shall never cease out of the land :

<* therefore I command thee saying, thou

'* shalt open thine hand wide unto thy brother,

^* to thy poor and to thy needy in thy land.''

Throughout the New Testament, charity

holds the first rank among all the virtues, and

is recommended on a liberal and extensive

plan ; not being confined to our own kindred

and nation, but comprehending w^ithin its

wide embrace the whole race of man. It is

called the bond of perfection ; it is considered

as the only infallible test of our character,

without which the possession of every other

virtue is unavailing, or indeed unattainable.

** Though I speak with the tongue of men and

"■ of angels,'' says St. Paul, '' though I have

*' the gift of prophecy, and understand all

'* mysteries and all knowledge, and though

*' I have all faith, so that I could remove

** mountains, and have not charity, I am

'' nothing." *' Whoso hath this world's

<« goods," says St. John, '' and seeth hisbroth-

" er have need, and shutteth up his bowels of

SERMON VII. 123

*• compassion from him, how dwellcth the
*' love of God in him ?" In short, our Saviour
has expressly taught us that by works of char-
ity and mercy our fate shall be determined at
the last day.

II. From what has been now said, the obli-
gation of charity clearly appears ; but while
men allow the obligation in general, they are
always inventing pretences and excuses for
neglecting it in particular cases. The validity
of these I now proceed to consider.

1. The majority of mankind apologize for
refusing to relieve the distressed, by saying
that charity is a duty incumbent only on the
rich ; their income is sufficient for the support
only of themselves and their families, and after
their necessary expenses are paid, they have
nothing to spare for objects of distress. This
excuse, when made with sincerity and truth,
is so far good that no man is required to give
beyond his ability. But you cannot be igno-
rant that the smallness of the sum you can
afford to give, does not diminish the obligation
or lessen your merit. You are bound to give
your little, as much as the rich to give out of
their abundance ; and if you give with a wil-
ling mind, you will be accepted according to

|24 SERMON VIL

what you have, and not according to what you
have not. You remember the poor widow,
who cast all her living into the treasury for the
poor, and whose two mites were of more value
in the sight of God than all the gifts of the
rich.

But, farther, let me ask you, by what rule
you determine that which is necessary, or
that which is competent ? If you are directed
by the maxims and opinions of the world, you
follow a very erroneous guide. Nay more,
be your riches what they may, they will never
exceed competence, and of course you will
never be rich enough to give any thing away.
If you follow your own inclinations in this
matter, and suppose every thing necessary,
which is necessary to feed your vanity and
pride, to gratify your love of pleasure and
amusement, to satisfy every whim and caprice,
then, to get rid of this duty, you have only to
become voluptuous and ostentatious, dissolute
and profuse. In proportion as the passions
you have to gratify increase, your obligation
to works of goodness will diminish, and that
multitude of sins and follies, which we are told
charity will cover, will only prove an apology
for peglecting its performaijpe.

SERMON VIL H^

How inconsistent are the opinions and con^
duct of men. On every other occasion, how
unwilling are they to confess their poverty.
How often, to keep up the reputation of be-
ing wealthy, do they endeavour to conceal a
real derangement of affairs by expensive ap-
pearances of pomp and show. 1 heir vanity
forsakes them only when reminded of the
duties of charity and mercy ; then they not
only confess, but exaggerate their poverty ;
their hardness of heart gets the better not only
of their virtue, but even of their vanity itself.
Now will any one be imposed on by so shal-
low an excuse as that which is thus proposed,
when he considers your manner of life ? You
are too poor to spare a rag to cover the naked-
ness of your brother, but you are rich enough
to spend immense sums in the decoration of
your own person. You are too poor to be-
stow a trifle to purchase a crutch for the lame,
but you are rich enough to keep a splendid
equipage for your own convenience and in-
dulgence. You are too poor to give a morsel
of bread to him who is ready to perish, but
you are rich enough to spend in a single en-
tertainment for your friends, who stand in no
need of your bounty, what would have dif-

126 SERMON VIL

fused happiness through a helpless family for
a whole year. You have money enough to
stake at the gaming table, and have you none
to lay out for the prize of the high-calling of
God in Jesus Christ ?

2. Some men complain of the wayward-
ness of the times, of losses and misfortunes
which they have sustained, of unsuccessful
trade, and of unprofitable seasons, vvhich
make it difficult for themselves to live in their
former style, and consequently exempt them
from every obligation to charity. But if such
men would duly examine their own character
and conduct,' in them, perhaps, they would
discover the source of such disastrous events.
They would, perhaps, discern the hand of
God lifted up to avenge the cause of the poor,
(whose cries ascend to heaven against the il-
liberal and hard-hearted,) to punish the rich
for their want of compassion, and to convince
them that they ought not to be so sparing of
what does not properly belong to them, and
of which they may so easily be deprived.
Such events, then, are intended to promote
and not to extinguish charily. Endeavour,
therefore, by works of charity and mercy, by
prayers and alms, to recover the favour of

SERMON VII. 127

God. Heaven frowns on the unfeeling miser,
but ever looks with kind regard on the boun-
rtiful and generous. Your land will again
yield its Increase ; success will accompany
your endeavours ; and riches will yet flow in
abundance.

And if a change of circumstances make
some retrenchments necessary, why begin
with that which you owe to the poor ? Re-
trench your pleasures ; retrench your amuse-
ments ; retrench your attendants ; retrench
your vices, before you retrench your duties.

Lastly, if j/()wr situation be uneasy in times
of general misfortune and distress, think seri-
ously what must be the situation of those who
can with difficulty subsist in the best of times.
Tlien, more than ever, is your assistance re-
quired, when no works are carried on to em-
ploy the active and industrious; when the
small pittance which they obtain from their
own exertions and the charity of the humane,
is so soon swallowed up by the high price of
provisions ; and when the season of the year
forbids their being dispersed into asylums of
distress.

3. Many men excuse themselves by say-
ing, that the demands upon them are so fre-

1^8 SERMON Vlt

qucnt that their charity is altogether exhaus-
ted, and that were they to give something to
every one who asks relief, nothing would be
left for the support of their own family. Strange
it is that the very circumstance which should
excite your liberality, makes you the more
uncharitable. The great number of the un-
fortunate is the reason why your charity is so
loudly called for. If few persons were to be
relieved your bounty would be the less neces-
sary, at least, necessary in a less degree.
But in times of hardship and want, no man
who is himself above the fear of want, ought
to withhold his mite.

Your concern for the interests of your fami-
ly is laudable. '* If you provide not for your
^* own, especially for those of your own
^* house, you have denied the faith and are
*' worse than an infidel.'' Perhaps too indus-
try and economy are the best bestowed chari-
ty ; for they may prevent you and your de-
scendants from becoming a future burden on
the publick. But think how much a small
matter saved from your daily expenses, and of
no consequence to you, would add to the
happiness of the poor, and you will not surely
i!»efuse to deny yourself a luxury, when, by

SERMON Vir, 12D

doing so, you can save a number of your
hungry and naked and houseless brethrcii.
from misery and death.

The reason why we feel charity so great a
burden is, that our charity is extended upon
no settled plan, but is merely accidental. In
general all our income is applied to the pur-
poses of our own expenditure, and, of course,
every farthing given to the poor is a diminu-
tion of our enjoyment. But would men allot
yearly a certain portion of what they possess
for the relief of the indigent and distressed,
and reserve that as a sacred and inviolable de-
posit put into their hands by the common
father of the rich and poor, intended for the
benefit of the latter ; then they would feel the
exercise of charity no hardship, the number
of miserable objects would speedily decrease,
and plenty, cheerfulness and joy, would be
widely diffused throughout society.

III. The third thing which I proposed, was,
to suggest some directions for the exercise of
this virtue. And, in my opinion, you will
not err, if your charity extends to proper ob-
jects, proceeds from piopcr viotives, and is
performed in a proper manner,

1. In general the most destitute are the

VOL. II. s

130 SERMOiyJ VII.

most worthy objects of our charity. Misery^
in whatever shape or in whatever character,
whether in our friends or in our foes, in the
good or in the bad, is the object of our com-
passion, and calls for our assistance. The
generous and wounded soldier who gave the
cup of water brought to quench his own
thirst, to another whose necessities appeared
greater, acted according to the true spirit of
charity.

It is an opinion both erroneous and danger-
ous, that hatred of vice should render us un-^
compassionate to sinners, or that variance and
animosity should make us deaf to the cries of
our enemy in distress. There can be no
greater act of charity than to reclaim the
vicious ; there is not a more express precept
in the gospel than that we feed our enemy,
when he is hungry, and give him drink
when he is thirsty. It is thus that we are
treated by our heavenly father, whose fairest
and best-loved attribute it is to pity and for-
give, who maketh his sun to rise on the evil
and the good, and sendeth rain on the just
and on the unjust. This is the example set
us by our great Master who performed towards
Us, even when we were enemies and sinners.

SERMON VII. 131

the greatest act of charity and mercy which
ever did or ever can happen in the universe.
It is impossible to particularize the different
objects which are worthy of your charity.
Look around you, and you will will see a
sufficient number of them. Among those
who request your assistance you will distm-
guish the industrious, who, after all their
efforts, are unable to supply their own and
their children's wants ; the aged and infirm
whose arm is now unstrung, and who, decli-
nmg into the winter of life, no longer display
the blossoms of spring or the fruit of autumn ;
the helpless orphan on whose tender years no
parent of their own ever smiled, whom no
protector defends from the early and infec-
tious blasts of vice, to whom no guardian and
instructor points out the path of duty. But
above all, you ought to distinguish those who,
after being accustomed to affluence and plen-
ty, are by some unforeseen accident, some
sudden reverse of fortune, without any fault
of their own, reduced to bear the galling
yoke of poverty ; who, after being the father
of the fatherless, the stay of the orphan, and
the shield of the stranger, now need that
charity which they were wont so liberally to

im SERMON vri.

dispense, To them poverty must be the more
insupportable, because they are prevented by
modesty from making kown their v/ants and
disclosing their misery. To their assistance,
then, let the charitable and open hand be
stretched out. In their case, too, let charity
be performed with that secrecy and tenderness
which their delicate and susceptible disposi-
tions require.

2. While your charity is extended only to
proper objects, it ought also to proceed from
proper motives. On the principle from which
any action arises, depends its merit or demerit.
If we are charitable from motives of pride and
ostentation, that we may be seen of men, and
may gain the applause of the world, our char-
ity is but as a sounding brass or a tinkling
cymbol. The observations of our Lord on this
subject are highly pertinent and well deserve
our attention. To prevent the mixture of im-
proper motives in the exercise of charity, he
requires that it be done in secret. '* Take
*^ heed,*' says he, *' that ye do not your alms
*' before men, to be seen of them ; otherwise
'^ ye have no reward of your father which is in
'^ heaven. Therefore, when thou doest thine
•* alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee.

SERMON VII. 13S

** as the hypocrites do, in the synagogues and
'* in the streets, that they may have glory of
** men. Verily, I say unto you, they have
** their reward. But when thou doest alms, let
** not thy right hand know what thy left hand
" doth : that thine alms may be in secret, and
** thy father which seeth in secret himself
** shall reward thee openly."

In like manner, think not by works of char-
ity to compound for other sins with which
you are unwilling to part. Some would be
glad to give a Httle of their goods for the relief
of the poor, provided it would screen them
from the punishment due to fraud, injustice,
and oppression, and were they allowed to
spend the rest in extravagant and unlawful
pleasures. In former times, indeed, religion
was of a nature so accommodating as to admit
pretensions of this kind. If any man, at the
close of a wicked and abandoned life, expend-
ed the money he had acquired by violence
and deceit, in building churches, in erectmg
monasteries, and in founding charitable insti-
tutions, all his former offences were blotted
out, and his saintship infallibly secured. But
we preach a very different religion. Not that
we are less anxious than our predecessors that

134 SERMON VII.

you should practise works of charity ; but we
wish you to be just as well as charitable ; we
wish you to act from purer motives than hy-
pocrisy and a love of praise. If your wealth
has been acquired by extortion and rapine, by
grinding the face of the poor and oppressing
the stranger who is within thy gates, by over-
reaching the unv/ary, or withholding from
your creditor his due ; and you think that by
giving some little of it away in charity, you
may safely continue In the same course of
profitable Iniquity, cast it not into the treasury
of the Lord ; It Is the price of blood and of
sin, and cannot be received.

3. Let your charity be performed in 2i proper"
manner. This rule is of more consequence
than may at first be imagined. An action,
however good In itself. If performed in an im-
proper manner, loses half its merit. Many a
charitable deed is performed In so harsh and
insuhing a manner, or Is accompanied with
so liberal a proportion of reproach and invec»
tlve, that a refusal of the gift desired would
have been far less disagreeable. To grant a
request with a willing heart, to confer a favour
with delicacy and propriety, is one of the most
difficult offices which occur in the intercourse

SERMON VII. 135

of society. Let your charity, then, be per-
formed in a kind and compassionate manner ;
and shew that you feel and are interested for
the person whom you reUeve. Give your
alms with gentleness and aifability, avoid-
ing all harshness of manner, and all unne-
cessary display of superiority. Be charita-
ble with a glad spirit ; give cheerfully and
without reluctance ; and let no appearance
of force and restraint detract from the merit of
your virtue, or cause your good to be evil
spoken of.

IV. I shall now conclude with stating a few
of the motives which should induce you to
follow after charity.

And iirst, let me observe, that the intrinsick
excellence and beauty of this virtue, are suffi-
cient to recommend it to all the lovers of what
is great and beautiful. How noble, how god-
like an employment, to supply the wants of
the necessitous, to raise up the bowed down,
to heal the wounds of the afflicted, and to
smooth the bed of sickness ! Such conduct
must be free from all selfish and interested
motives ; from the poor and wretched we can
expect no return. By such conduct we shew
ourselves to be the genuine children of our

156 SERMON VII.

father in heaven, who is the helper of the
poor, the father of the fatherless, and the hus-
band of the widow, who giveth unto all liber-
ally and upbraideth none, who is constantly
conferring favours on those who profit him
nothing. By such conduct we shew ourselves
to be the true disciples of Jesus, whose life
was one continued course of charity and good-
ness to mankind.

1S7

SERMON VIII.

On Meekness : its nature and great excellence in
the sight oj God,

i^SALM 25, VeHSE 'i.

" The meek will he guide in judgment; and the meek will
he teach his way.

Religion, while it elevates the soul to God,
and teaches us to set our affections on things
above, neglects not the duties of civil life, or
those laws which regulate our connections
with one another. It not only prepares us
for a future life, by prescribing doctrines and
precepts for the cultivation of our moral and
religious powers ; but it also smooths our road
through the present stage of existence, and
sweetens the intercourse of society, by incul-
cating love, gentleness and meekness. The
wisdom which cometh from above is pure,
peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated :
full of mercy and of good fruits.

VOL. II. T

133 SERMON VIII.

Among the virtues of the Christian life, that
of meekness, though accompanied with less
show than many others, does not hold a less
important place. It is a disposition of mind
highly amiable in itself; it is a distinguishing
mark of the disciples of Jesus ; it is extremely
favourable to the cultivation and improvement
of every other virtue ; and it is of high price
in the sight of God. '' The meek will he
** guide in judgment ; and the meek will he
** teach his way/' Let us attempt to describe
it, and to point out the blessedness with which
it is connected,

I. This virtue is not the effect of natural
disposition, nor is it a habit to be acquired in
the school of the world ; but it is a Christian
grace, and a fruit of the Spirit. There are
some who have in them much of the milk of
human kindness, and who consequently pos-
sess a softness of disposition which is productive
of an easy, gentle, and inoffensive behaviour.
But such men are yielding and submissive
more from want of spirit and firmness to with-
stand opposition, than from any fixed princi-
ple of conduct. There are others who have
much complaisance in their behaviour, and
much smoothness of phrase in their speech.

SERMON VIIL 139

who yet have not ** the ornament of a meek
•' and quiet sphit." They have been much
conversant in the w^ays of men ; they have
acquired an artificial pohtencss v^hich enables
them to conceal every feeling of disgust and
dislike; and often, under the veil of gentle
appearances and the most obliging manners,
they conceal the bitterest malice and ill-will.
But the meekness which is taught in the school
of Jesus, is founded on a good temper, a steady
principle of virtue, a modest opinion of our-
selves, a sincere benevolence and good will to
our neighbour, and above all, a love of peace
and quietness. It is in no respect inconsistent
with firmness and vigour of mind ; it is yield-
ing and submissive in no one point of reli-
gious or moral importance ; it is more nearly
connected with a natural politeness, which
proceeds from the heart, than with an artificial
complaisance of ni'inners.

Meekness must also be distinguished from
gentleness, a virtue to which it bears a very
great resemblance, and with which it is often,
perhaps, unavoidably, confounded. We have
no way to judge of moral habits, but by the
effect which they produce ; and both meek-
ness and gentleness are productive of the same

14^ SERMON VIII.

calm, mild, and equable behaviour. But,
properly speaking, gentleness is a qualifica-
tion of those actions which we do to others ;
meekness, of those actions which regard the
conduct of others towards us, or the events
which happen to us from without. Thus we
are said to give a reproof with gentleness or
tenderness, and to receive it with meekness.

Who, then, is the meek man ? What in-
fluence has this virtue on the character and
conduct?

In one respect, meekness does not differ
from humihty. The meek man is modest
and diffident in his opinion of himself.
He is sensible of the weakness and corrup-
tion of his nature, and of the greatness and
frequency of his own particular faults. In
his composition there is no arrogance nor
pride, no obstinacy nor self-conceit. He is
not haughty, distant, or reserved ; but is free
of access, and easy to be entreated. In his
manners he is unaffected ; in his behaviour
unassuming ; in his dispositions complying
and obliging. When he is blamed or spoken
evil of, he is more ready to confess his faults,
and to condemn himself, than to retaliate up-
on others. If any man differ in opinion from

SERMON VIII. Ui

him, he is disposed rather to distrust his own
than to condemn the other's judgment. In
every case where his own opinions and in-
clinations are concerned, he will rather yield,
than, by disputation and opposition, produce
animosity and discord. I do not, however,
mean that he will yield in matters of duty
and of essential importance. This would be
a servile and sinful compliance, not the meek
and humble submission to which I allude ;
and it would indicate the greatest weakness
and corruption of mind. On these points the
meekest man will give place, no, not for a
moment. But in matters of indifter'^nce,
and in trifles, he is by no means anxious to
impose his opinion upon others. And it
must be remembered that the greatest part of
human life is nothing but a series of little and
unimportant events ; and that thesg are the
chief cause of those jarrings and dissentions
which disturb and embitter human society.
For it is an observation founded on experience
that men seldom quarrel about serious and
important matters. Their evil passions and
prejudices, their obstinacy and self-conceit,
are most apparent in things of no moment.
And unhappily this is the case particularly

142S SERMON VIII.

in matters of religion. The less essential
any doctrine is, the more eagerly is it con-
tested ; the smaller the difference is between
parties and sects, their virulence against each
other becomes proportionably greater.

Farther, the meek man is actuated by good
will to others, judges of their actions with
charity, and views their characters in the
most favourable Hght. With him there is no
malice, nor envying, nor strife. This arises
from the former part of his character, viz.
the just opinion which he has of himself, for
it is by viewing our own character and con-
duct in too favourable a pomt of view, that
we are often led to think unfavourably of
others. He who loveth himself more than
he ought to do, will not love his brother also.
But the meek man wishes well to all man-
kind ; i:ejoiceth in the success of others ;
envyeth not their attainments ; is candid to
their merits ; unwilling to think evil of any
man ; always leans to the charitable side,
where an action admits of two Interpretations.
In short, the calmness and serenity of his own
lyiind is diffused over every thing around him.
To the jaundiced eye, every thing is of an
unnatural colour. All appears distorted and.

SERMON Viri. us

deformed to a mind troubled with fierce and
angry passions. But the mind of the meek
man is Hke a clear and undisturbed lake,
which reflects every object in its true colours
and its just dimensions.

Again, the meek man bears with the faults
and weaknesses of others ; is slow to wrath ;
unwilHng to take offence ; and ready to for-
give the injuries which he receives. In these
respects, he is directly opposite to several
characters which are too common in the
world. The first are the severe and unre-
lenting who make no allowance for the un-
avoidable imperfections incident to human
nature ; to whom the follies of men are un-
pardonable crimes ; who yield not in one
minute article even to preserve the peace and
happiness of society. But the meek careful-
ly observe those injunctions which abound in
the New Testament, to bear one another's
burdens, and to suffer with the infirmities of
the weak. They copy the example of Jesus,
who pleased not himself, but on whom fell
the reproaches of those who reproached others.
The God of patience and of consolation, who
knoweth our frame, and remembereth that
we are dust, commandeth them to be like-
minded one towards another.

144 SERMON VIII,

The next class of men from whom tli6
meek essentially differ, are the passionate ;
who are full of wrath and anger, whose pas-
sions are so furious that the smallest spark is
sufficient to set them in a blaze, who take
offence at every disrespectful word or gesture,
who resent every real or imagined injury.
But meekness suffereth long, beareth all
things, is not easily provoked. The meek
man is greater than the mighty, for he hath
rule over his own spirit. No fierce or unruly
passion is allowed to disturb his repose ; no
darkness obscures the sunshine of his mind«
He knoweth the real value of the honours
and advantages of the world, and passes by
those little neglects, affronts and injuries,
which create so many heart-burnings and
animosities among men. He is careful to ob-
serve the direction of the Apostle; 'Met all
" bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and cla-
*« mour, be put away from you. And be ye
'' kind to one another, tender hearted, for-
*' giving one another.'' The last thing op-
posed to meekness in the view in which we
are considering it, is that peevishness and
fretfulness of temper which begets ill-humours
and discontent, and convert every event and

SERMON VIII. 145'

action into food for its own disorder. Such
men continually wear a face of gloom and
uneasiness ; they are discontented and dis-
pleased with every thing around them. But
the meek man is ever pleased, cheerful, and
easy. He is at peace with himself, and con-
sequently under no temptation not to be at
peace with others. If, at any time, serious
provocation has led him into anger, the sun
goeth not down upon his wrath. It is a guest
that tarrieth but a little. He never allows it
to settle into resentment, malice or revenge.
His behaviour is ever gentle, placid, and
equal. He meets the calamities and disap-
pointments of life with humble submission and
pious resignation. In every situation he pos-
sesseth his soul in patience. Though the
storm howls without, all is calm and serene
within. His spirits are never ruffled by mis-
fortune, his mind is never unhinged by dis-
appointment, and good humour and content-
ment are the constant inhabitants of his dwel-
ling.

Lastly, the great feature in the character of
the meek man, is his love of peace and quiet-
ness. He is not fond of high and elevated
stations, of the shew and bustle of life. His

VOL. II. u

146 SERMON VIIL

delight is in ease and retirement. He know-
eth that the thunder more often attacks the
lotty building and the high tower than the
lowly cottage. He sees the mountain assail-
ed by the blast while not a breath is stirring
in the vale, and the oak bending under the
storm while nothing disturbs the ivy which
creeps upon the wall. But if his situation
lead him to mingle in the world, as far as in
him lieth, he liveth peaceably with all men.
He seeketh for peace as for hidden treasure,
and often parts with his rights, and sacrifices
his interest to maintain it. He provoketh not
others to anger, nor administers fuel to their
passions, but by a soft answer turneth away
wrath. *' Pleasant are his words," to use the
language of Solomon, '* they are as honey-
*' comb, sweet to the soul, and marrow to the
'* bones.'* Not only does he live peaceably
with others himself, but he also endeavours
to make all men live at peace with one an-
other. He tries to allay the heats, animosities
and discords, which must take place in the
intercourse of mankind, where the passions
and mterests of men interfere so much, and
so directly oppose one another. He piicifies
the resentment of the angry, sooths the

SERMON VIll. 147

irascible, brings the peevish into good hu-
mour, rejoices to make one blessed family of
mankind, to behold all men uniting in love
to God and love to man.

Upon the whole, the virtue which has been
dehneated, and which it was found impossi-
ble to keep entirely distinct from several other
virtues, humility, patience, contentment, is
that which is recommended by the Apostle
Paul in these words, '* Put on (as the elect
'* of God, holy and beloved,) bowels of mer-
*' cies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meek-
'* ness, long-suffering, forbeaiing one another,
" and forgiving one another.'*

But the best description of meekness is to
be met with in the history of the life and
character of Jesus. There we find meekness
to be not a virtue of which only an idea can
be formed, without the possibility of its be-
ing practised ; but we see it actually embodi-
ed and in human form dwelling among men.
Meek and lowly in heart was the son of God ;
he was humble in his deportment ; every
action of his life was full of condescension,
gentleness and love. The Legislator of the
Jews was called the meekest man on earth,
but a meeker than Moses is here. Isaiah

148 SERMON VIIL

saw him in prophetic vision, and thus de-
scribed him : *' He shall not strive, nor cry,
** neither shall any man hear his voice in the
*' streets. A bruised reed shall he not break,
*' and smoking flax shall he not quench.
'* When hev\^as reviled, he reviled not again,
*' When he suffered, he threatened not.'' To
the errours of his friends, he v^as mild and
gentle ; he v^as patient under, and ready to
forgive the injuries, reproaches, and insults
of his enemies. When the impetuous zeal of
his disciples led them to beg that he would
command fire to descend from heaven, and
consume a people who believed not on his
name, with what meekness did he reprove
their fault, and correct their mistake ? " Ye
'' know not v.'hat manner of spirit ye are of;
^* the son of man came not to destroy men's
^' lives, but to save them/' Though he came
to his own, and his own received him not,
he was not angry and exasperated at their
rejection of him, but when he drew near un-
to Jerusalem, he beheld the city and wept
over it. When Jesus left the celestial man-
sions to become a man of sorrows and ac-
quainted with grief, meekness descended
along with him from heaven, and accom-

SERMON VIII. 149

panied him during the whole of his abode
upon earth. Amidst the hardships of his
humble station, and notwithstanding the ob-
loquy, the neglect, and the ill usage which
he met with, she was his constant attendant.
She breathed in his words, she shone forth in
his looks. When, towards the close of his
life, his friends forsook him and fled, when
malice was directing all her shafts against him,
when cruelty assailed him in the most terri-
ble forms, when justice refused to listen to
his cry, when pity seemed to have almost
entirely fled from the society of men, even
then meekness did not desert him, but dicta-
ted his last words, which were a prayer for
his enemies, '* Father forgive them, for they
^* know not what they do."

Not only was meekness a distinguishing
feature in the character of our Master; it is
also the spirit which every part of his religion
breathes. Before his appearance, the very
reverse of this virtue was evident both in the
general state of society and in the characters
of individuals. It was the age of war and
conquest. The arts of civil and domestick
life were unknown and uncultivated, and
rapine, bloodshed and cruelty, prevailed over

150 SERMON VIII.

the face of the earth. In private life, too,
however much they might cuUivate patriotism,
courage, and other shining quahfications, the
peaceful virtue of meekness escaped their
notice. Both Jews and Gentiles were re-
markable for a pride and haughtiness of char-
acter very inconsistent with the weak and de-
pendent state of human nature. They had
some love for their friends, but it went no
farther. They knew not what it was to for-
bear taking offence, or to forgive injuries.
The dagger of assassination was daily drawn
in revenge of wrongs. Man became the ene-
my of man, and those who should have lived
together as brethren, took pleasure only in
promoting discord and disorder, or, like savage
beasts, in devouring one another. But this
is not so much a matter of surprise, when
they neglected the true foundation of peace
and harmony ; when even their moralists and
philosophers represented meekness, gentleness
and humility, as nearly allied to weakness of
mind, and meanness of spirit, and as incon-
sistent with a great and noble character. But
what were the precepts of Jesus and his
Apostles ? *' Blessed are the meek," said he,
*' Jor they shall inherit the earth.'* When his

SERMON VIII. 151

disciples were disputing about precedence and
power, Jesus called a little child and set him
in the midst of them, and said unto them,
*' except ye become as little children, ye shall
^' not enter into the kingdom of heaven." In
truth, to love one another, to live at peace
with all men, to bear the infirmities of the
weak, to forgive the wrongs of the injurious,
to be slow to wrath, to cultivate meekness,
gentleness and kindness, are the constant
precepts of that charitable religion, which
was proclaimed by the Saviour of men, and
which proceeded from the God of peace ;
that religion whose benign influences have
dispelled the ignorance and barbarity of the
nations, enlightened and civilized the human
mind, softened and refined the manners of
society, restrained the ravages and the cruelty
of war, mitigated the severity of punishments,
and taught all men to consider themselves as
the children of one universal parent, who is
** good unto all, and whose tender mercies
" are over all his works/'

Besides, how much reason have we to re-
joice in the happiness of our lot, when we
compare Christianity with another pretended
revelation from God, which has gained over

152 SERMON VIII.

to its side a great part of the human race !
What joy and exultation should fill our minds
when we contemplate the character and life
of Jesus, and then consider the character of
the ferocious prophet of the east ; when we
behold our Saviour meek and lowly in heart,
condescending and inoffensive to all men, and
after that, turn our eyes to Mahomet dyed in
blood, riding in triumph over thousands of
slain, and dragging the proselytes of his re-
ligion at the wheels of his chariot ; what de-
lightful joy should we not feel when we
compare the gospel which proclaims peace on
earth, and good will towards men, with that
religion which carries war and desolation in
its train, and every step of which has been
marked with cruelty and rapine.

This virtue, then, though confined chiefly
to the calm sequestered vale of life, or to the
scenes of private and domestick retirement,
cannot be unimportant when it runs through
every part of our holy religion, when it is so
often, and so eagerly recommended by it, and
when it has so great an influence on the hap-
piness of mankind. It is not calculated to
gain the applause of men, but it is of high
price in the sight of God, To do acts of pub-

SERMON VIII. 153

lick and extensive utility, to save a falling or
raise a sinking state, to scatter plenty o'er a
land, is the lot of only a few men in an age or
nation. Years may pass over our heads, be-
fore we have an opportunity of practising any
great and shining virtue, of visiting with com-
fort in our hands the widow and fatherless in
their affliction, of smoothing the bed of death,
or of pouring the oil and wine of consolation
into the wounded spirit : but every man has it
in his power to diffuse peace and joy around
him by the meekness and gentleness of his
behaviour. There is not a day nor hour of
our life wherein we may not add to the hap-
piness of the world, by cultivating a meek
and quiet spirit. And how blessed would be
the state of society, were this virtue univer-
sally practised ! ** How good and how pleas-
'* ant is it for brethren to dwell together in
*' unity ! It is as the dew of Hermon, and as
** the dew that descended on the mountains
*'ofZion.'' Indeed we can form no greater
idea of the happiness of the higher mansions,
where every thing, like the calm and un-
troubled ocean, reflects the serenity of God's
countenance ; where the dissensions, and an-
gers, and quarrels, and storms which render

VOL. II. X

154 SERMON VIII.

the sea of life so tempestuous, are all blown
over ; and where the reign of universal peace
and harmony is begun, and shall never be
terminated.

II. But the mere description of this virtue
will not be sufficient to induce you to practise
it. Is the meek man without his reward ?
Doth he serve God for nought f No, my friends,
he doth not serve God for nought. Great is
the reward of meekness considered with re-
spect to the pdssessour himself, with respect to
the world around him, and with respect to
God whose approbation he seeks.

I . Great is the blessedness of meekness con-
sidered with respect to the possessour of that
virtue. Of every virtue it has been justly ob-
served that it is its own reward : for each is
accompanied with that self-approbation, that
peace and satisfaction of mind which, next to
the enjoyment of God, is the greatest felicity
aiCainable by human beings. But meekness
is calculated not only from the reward of self-
approl)ation which accompanies it, but also
from its very nature to produce this effect.
For in what does that internal enjoyment
wluc h is so great an ingredient in human hap-
piness consist, but in the proper regulation of

SERMON VIII. 155

our passions, appetites, and affections ; in that
calm, serene, and meek temper of mind which
has been described in the former part of the
discourse? Ihe conduct of others, however
unjust or injurious, and the events of life, how-
ever calamitous and adverse, cannot affect the
repose of him who possesses a meek and quiet
spirit. He has a source of happiness and en-
joyment in the temper and constitution of his
own mind, of which he can no more be de-
prived than of his existence. The reproaches
and censures of others cannot hurt the man
who has a modest and humble opinion of his
own character. Envy cannot torment the
breast of him who views the success and hap-
piness of others with complacency and de-
light. Injury and insult meet with no cor-
responding passions in a mind regulated by
meekness, and taught to suffer with patience
and composure the wrongs of the oppressor.
Those evils which happen alike to all men,
are soothed and mitigated by a soft and gentle
and complying temper. To bear adversity
with becoming dignity, a bold and courageous
spirit are altogether insufficient : patience and
submission are the only remedies. The blast
shatters the tree which endeavours to resist its

156 SERMON VIII.

power, but passes over without injuring the
shrub whieh yields to its force. What then
can disturb the meek man ? No evil can reach
him from without, and within all is peace and
happiness.

If meekness have such an influence on our
happiness in the day of adversity, how much
more does it gild the sunshine of prosperity.
He who has been depressed beyond measure
in adversity, will be intemperate in the day of
success. He only who has borne with patience
and calmness, misfortune and disappointment,
can display that moderation and temperance
in prosperity which are necessary to the proper
enjoyment of life. Tumultuous and excessive
joys are unknown to the meek man ; his mind
moves in that calm and equal tenour which
gives a true relish to life. The sunshine seems
brighter when it follows or precedes a storm ;
but meekness resembles that clear and serene
sky which is a stranger to storms and tempests.

To cultivate meekness, then, is to cultivate
quietness, peace, and happiness. He who has
attained this virtue, is in possession of a treasure
superiour to the riches of the earth, which the
world has not given, and which it cannot take
away. It is our interest, therefore, to studv

SERMON VIII. 157

meekness for its own sake, and in considera-
tion of that internal peace which it brings in
its train. But the motives to the practice of
this virtue, will be much stronger if we con-
sider it with regard to others.

II. Great is the reward of meekness as re*
gards the world. Nothing counteracts the
malevolence and discordant principles of socie-
ty more than the tender spirit which keeps
aloof from dissension and contest. The pas-
sions of men are in the moral world what the
raging tempest is in the natural — command
the elements and you make peace — command
the passions and discord ceases to rave. The
angry, when they meet with gentle words and
mild demeanour, are disarmed of their fero-
city, the opposition that elicits their fiery par-
ticles is removed and they depart harmless
and without riot.

The meek man, like the skilful artist,
touches the rudest machinery with the finest
instrument, and causes it to obey his wish.
He combats not by strength but by gentleness;
he opposes not with violence, but he conquers
by moderation ; he disarms the terrible of
their weapons, as if by enchantment, and their
instruments of death fall harmless at his feel.

158 SERMON VIII.

'^ Blessed are the meek for they shall in«
'^ herit the earth,'* saith our Lord; and, my
brethren, the meek do inherit all that is valu-
able upon earth — they inherit peace and un-
ruffled happiness. They inherit moreover
the friendship of all the good, which is more
precious than the goods that perish. Nor is
this all. The meek inherit the blessings of
all men ; for they are faithful and just friends,
are enemies to none, encroach not upon the
possessions of the rich, and are the constant
friends and advisers of the poor. The jusi love
them, the unjust respect them, and their greet-
ings are universal, cordial and harmonious.
Does a strife arise among their neighbours,
their character of uprightness and holiness
causes them to be appealed to as umpires in
the dispute. With their judgment all are sat-
isfied because all believe it to be founded upon
justice and morality.

Free from the common enemies of man, the
angry passions, revenge, envy, hatred, pride
and ambition, the meek do also obtain and
secure the goods of the world by seeking them
in moderation, and by using them with pru-
dence. How often does the passionate man
mar his prospects by giving himself up to the

SERMON VIII. 159

empire of his appetites ! How often does he
lose his acquired riches and honours by grasp-
ing with an avaricious and arrogant hand at
unlawful possessions. But the meek are gov-
erned by a more happy spirit. They seek
the blessings of this life with a temperate zeal,
and surrounded by friends and assistants their
etibrts are never unavailing; not over-anxious
to gather all into themselves, they interfere
not with the concerns of others. They engage
not in vain contention, nor do they raise up
enemies to thwart them in their honest en-
deavours to obtain a competency for their fam-
ilies. TVor does any vanity, or pride, or ambi-
tion induce them to engage in schemes of
aggrandizement so as to expose to peril the
earnings of their earlier days. Humble and
content in Jesus, full of gratitude to God, they
use their gifts as not abusing them, and satis-
fied with their lot, they give praises to heave n
for all they possess. Thus, my brethren, is it
that the meek inherit the earth.

III. Fmally, great is the reward of the
meek man with respect to God ; meekness in-
cludes the very essence of humility, is the
groundwork of charity, and is mseparable
from holiness. How much then must this

160 SERMON Viri.

virtue be estimated in the eyes of God ! The
humble shall be exalted ; the charitable shall
be paid many fold in heaven for what they
dispense on earth ; and the holy are those
who alone shall see God. It becomes us then
to cultivate this character as we regard the
salvation of our immortal spirits, and we shall
not cultivate it in vain. By assimilating our-
selves to Jesus, our perfect model, we shall
approach the true perfection of the godhead,
and shall advance the holy work of heaven
here upon earth. Jesus was humble and
meek ; God loveth the image of his son and
will not destroy it. He delighteth in the low-
ly mind and regardeth it as his representative
here on earth, for it advanceth his glory and
the happiness of his creatures. What honour
so great, my brethren, as to do God's will on
earth ; to act the part of his faithful servant,
and to feel that his spirit shed abroad in our
souls assures us of his approbation ! All the
pomp and glory of this world sink into nothing
when contrasted with such transcendant hon-
ours. The approbation and countenance of
God ! What a sublime and immortal feeling
does the thought excite in the breast of the
Christian ! He pants for it ; he reaches on to-

SERMON VIII. 161

wards It ; he glories in dying for it. Omnip-
otent and eternal in the heavens, the Father
commands us to yield a ready obedience to
his will. Shall we not obey him who made
this vast universe, and called all creatures into
existence out of nothing. The stubborn pride
of sin, however, makes man forget his duty
to his Maker. It is the Christian virtue of
meekness which can truly estimate the weak-
ness of man and the glory of the King of kings.
Humble in the flesh, the spirit of the meek
man raises itself with awful reverence to the
heavenly throne, and says *' thy will be done
^' on earth as it is in heaven :" the radiance
of the God-head illumines his soul, and full
of holy aspirations he seeks not but to do the
wish of him who ruleth all things.

The meek and humble spirit is cherished by
God on earth, and it shall be advanced to great
glory in the heavens. The proud, the dis-
dainful, and the vindictive, God rejecteth, for
they disturb the harmony of his creation : the
contrite he dellghteth to honour. When the
hour of the world's death shall come the glories
of this life shall be wrapped in gloomy nigbt,
but the humblest Christian virtue shall be fixed
in eternal happiness in the heavens. My

VOL. II. Y

16^ SERMON VOL

brethren, let us pray to God to give us meek
and lowly spirits, the dispositions of humility,
that we may render ourselves worthy to join in
the praises of the Lamb.

163

SERMON IX.

On the character of the saints : the providence
and favour of God peculiarly exercised to-
wards them in the hour of death.

Psalm 116, Verse 15.
" Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints."

There is no truth in religion of more impor-
tance to the direction or consolation of man,
than that of a divine and particular providence
in human affairs. What influence ought it
not to have on the actions of our lives to know
that there is an invisible Spectator who is con-
stantly about our path and about our bed, and
who spieth out all our ways ; that there is a
supreme Governour and Judge who marks with
the minutest exactness, and with approbation
or abhorrence, every thought, word, and ac-
tion of our life ! How consoling to reflect,
that weak, ignomnt, and helpless as we are.

164 SERMON IX.

still we are not left in this world of vicissitude
and trouble, to our own guidance, to the di-
rection of a blind fate, or to the sport of acci-
dent, but are under the perpetual guardian-
ship, protection, and direction of a wise and
benevolent being who watches over us in the
natal and in the mortal hour ; who takes an in-
terest in all our concerns, who appoints to us
our various fortunes and conditions, who re-
joiceth in our happiness, who lends an ear to
our complaints, and who, having the hearts
of all men and the powers of universal nature
subject to his control, causeth all things to
work together for good to them who love God,
and are the called according to his purpose.
*' The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice, let
*^ the multitude of the isles be glad thereof/'
But the doctrine of a superintending provi-
dence, though important and useful to all, is
peculiarly interesting and comfortable to good
men, whose persons are justified and accepted
in the beloved, whose lives being in conform-
ity to the law of God, are the object of his pe-
culiar approbation, whom he guards as the
apple of his eye, whom he guides with his
counsel, and forsakes not even when the king
of terrours approaches. For *^ precious in the-

SERMON IX. 165

'* sight of the Lord is the death of his saints/'
I hope it will contribute to our edification
and improvement if, at this time, I briefly
consider the two points to which the text prin-
cipally directs our attention. I mean,

1. The character of those whose death is
precious in the sight of the Lord, and

2. In what respects the death of the saints
is precious in God's sight.

I. The first thing proposed is to make some
remarks on the character of those whose death
is precious in the sight of the Lord — they are
the saints, which literally signifies holy persons.
This is a designation frequently given to the
people of God, as expressive of their true char-
acter ; for not only are they considered as
righteous, in consequence of the interest which
by faith they have in the righteousness of the
Redeemer, but they have a principle of holi-
ness inherent in them, by virtue of their regen-
eration, and they also abound in the outward
fruits of holiness, to the praise and glory of
God. This is a condition absolutely requisite
to their enjoying the divine favour and regard,
so that their life may be the object of God's
care, or their death precious in his sight. The
Lord, who is himself glorious in holiness and

166: SERMON IX.

the inexhaustible source of perfection, can
have no dehght in the ungodly and impure.
Hence an irreversible decree hath passed in
heaven, that ** without holiness no man shall
** see the Lord,*' and as the flame consumeth
the stubble, so will the fire of his holiness burn
up the ungodly, who with fallen spirits shall
have their portion in that lake of torments
whose smoke ascendeth for ever and ever.
But the Lord saithof his own people, '* Thou
** art a holy people unto the Lord thy God.
^' The Lord thy God hath chosen thee to be
'* a special people to himself, above all people
^* that are on the face of the earth. And they
" shall call them the holy people, the re-
^< deemed of the Lord.'*

The holiness of the people of God is not
original and natural, but derived. By nature
they are like unto others, children of wrath
and of disobedience ; the thoughts of their
hearts are only evil continually, and the actions
of their lives are contaminated by imperfection
and guilt. But infinite wisdom and goodness
have devised means sufficiently efficacious to
renew and sanctify the most impure. '' Come
"' now and let us reason together,*' saith the
Lord ; '' though your sins be as scarlet, they

SERMON IX. 167

*^ shall be white as snow, though they be red
'* like crimson, they shall be as wool." And
this change consists of two parts, a purification
from sin, and a communication of holiness ; a
removal of bad, and an acquisition of good
dispositions.

Sin i« the great cause which excludes the
creatures of the Almighty from the favour of
their Creator, and draws upon them innumera-
ble evils. It renders the life of the sinner
miserable and his death awful. Before men
can either enjoy the favour of God on earth,
or be fitted for the immediate vision of his
glory hereafter, their souls must be purified by
the washing of regeneration, and renewing of
the Holy Ghost. They must be cleansed by
the blood and spirit of the Saviour. Hence
David was wont to pray, *' wash me thorough-
*' ly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from
*' my sin ; create in me a clean heart, OGod,
'* and renew a right spirit within me." When
John was favoured with a vision of the re-
deemed, who stood before the throne and be-
fore the Lamb, he beheld them arrayed in
white robes, with palms in their hands, and
was informed that they were washed and made
white in the blood of the Lamb, All, there-

168 SERMON IX.

fore, who sincerely hope for immortal life, will
purify themselves, even as God is pure.

But not only are the saints purified from the
defilement of sin and vice : in their souls are
implanted holy principles, and that assemblage
of Christian graces, which constitutes their
likeness to their heavenly father. They are
not only accounted of the family of God by
adoption, but they are indeed his children,
being formed after his image, rendered parta-
kers of the divine nature, and dwelling in God
and God in them.

A holy life, proceeding from a renewed and
sanctified heart, completes the character of the
saint. Like so many rays of light converging
to one point, justice, mercy, truth, love, joy,
peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness,
faith, meekness, and temperance, harmonious-
ly unite in the saint, and emit their blended
radiance in his life and conversation ; so that
others, seeing his good works, glorify their
father who is in heaven. The love of God,
which glows in his heart, powerfully con-
strains him to a sincere, cheerful and uniform
obedience. It was the Almighty command
to Abraham '' walk before me, and be thou
^' perfect," and it is the fixed determination of

SERMON IX. 169

every true saint, to walk before the Lord unto
all well pleasing : to walk as in his presence
and under his omniscient eye ; and that not
on a few particular occasions, and at stated
times only, but regularly and uniformly
through the whole course of his life. Thus
the inward graces and virtues of the holy not
only beautify and adorn the soul, but serve to
produce obedience in those whom the Lord
hath set apart for himself, and redeemed to be
a peculiar people, zealous of good works. In
this manner their saintship is visible to the
world, and holiness to the Lord is established
in their character. This holiness is not found-
ed on constraint, nor does it depend on the
feeble efforts of an apostate heart, but is pro-
duced and maintained by the influences of an
Almighty Redeemer, in whose sight their
death as well as their life is precious.

II. Let us with equal brevity and simplicity
consider in what respects the death of the
saints is precious in the sight of the Lord.

It was sin which brought death into the
world; and though, eventually, a blessing to
the saints, it is a formidable foe, from which
human nature shrinks back with aversion.
The psalm, in which the text is found, cele-

VOL. II. z

170 SERMON IX.

brates the goodness of God in delivering from
death, and contains a prayer that the hfe
which he had so graciously preserved might
for the future be spent in his service. This
remarkable preservation of the psalmist's life,
was the reason of the observation in the text,
that precious in the sight of the Lord is the
death of his saints.

Their death is precious in his sight, because
he is pleased often to bless them with length
of days, and to bring them to the grave in a
good old age, as a shock of corn comes in his
season. The sons of violence and strife fre-
quently rise up against the saints of God. But
their life and all that is dear to them are depos-
ited in his hands as a sacred trust : he forsaketh
them not in any case ; and in his sight their
life as well as their death is precious. He re-
deems their souls from deceit and death, and
brings them not to the grave till death becomes
to them great gain.

Long life is in a peculiar manner promised
to the saints. They shall inherit the earth,
while the wicked who are in great power, and
spread themselves like a green bay tree, shall
be cut doAu like ihe grass, and pass away.
'* The Lord knoweth the days of the upright ;

SERMON IX. 171

" they shall dwell in the land, and the perfect
*' shall remain in it: but the wicked shall be
^* cut off from the earth, and the transgressors
** shall be rooted out of it/*

The death of the saints is precious in the
sight of the Lord, because by it he oftentimes
removes them from the evil to come. ** The
'' righteous perisheth," saith the prophet,
" and no man layeth it to heart ; and merciful
*' men are taken away, none considering that
*' the righteous are taken away from the evil
^' to come.'* The saints are the pillars of the
world, and their death portends evil to the
place and nation in which they have lived.
Ruin came upon Sodom, because there were
not ten righteous men to be found in it. The
earth itself is preserved for the sake of good
men ; and when the Lord cometh out of his
place to punish the inhabitants of the world
for their iniquity, the saints are removed by
death to a place of security, that they may not
be the sad spectators of such direful calamities.
Again, precious in the eyes of the Lord is
the death of his saints, because he deprives
death of its sting, and encourages them in the
moment of their departure to commit their
spirits to his care, and to rely v/ith confidence

\n SERMON IX.

on his ability to save to the uttermost all those
who sincerely believe in his mediation. The
righteous are indeed at all times God's peculiar
care ; but on a bed of agony, and in the hour
of death, his almighty arm is stretched out in
a particular manner for their support. With
that voice which called all nature into exist-
ence, he bids them not fear, for he is with
them : even he who has the keys of death
and of the unseen world in his hands, who
himself encountered the king of terrours, and
who knows what support his creatures need in
their dying moments. It was on this ac-
count that David sung with triumphant joy,
'' Though I walk through the valley of the
** shadow of death, yet will I fear no evil ;
** for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff
*' they comfort me."

It is impossible that the idea of death in it-
self should not affect, more or less, even those
who are best prepared for its approach. It
cannot be dressed out in any form that will
reconcile the reflecting mind to pass it by
without sensations of solemnity and awe. The
anxious care, the hopeless dejection, the burst-
ing grief of near and dear connexions, from
whom it is painful to part, and wdiose efforl^

SERMON IX. 17 3

cannot prevent the approach of the inevitable
hour, are circumstances of additional distress,
sufficient to appal the stoutest heart.

In these gloomy and distressing moments,
the samt reflects and experiences that his death
is precious in the sight of the Lord. This
gracious promise, replete with every comfort,
fortifies him against desponding fears, and
brightens his soul with the beaming rays of
hope, when this world darkens on his view.
Sympathizing angels hover round his departing
spirit, ready to conduct it to the realms of
glory. That benevolent Saviour, who himself
trod the thorny paths of life, and who hath
taken from death the dreaded sting, is at the
hour of dissolution more particularly present,
to strengthen every grace, to fortify the mind
against the terrours of the powers of darkness,
and to bring comfort to the bed of sickness
when the body is fast wasting away. Believing
and rejoicing in him who is their salvation
and their glory, and blessed with a foretaste
of the joys to come, the saints depart in peace ;
willing to be absent from the body, and pre-
sent with the Lord. To them the passage
through the dark vale loses all its terrours ;
and the tremendous gates of death are the

174 SERMON IX.

portals which lead to those pleasures at God's
right hand, where, according to the Apostle/s
emphatick expression, they shall be *^ tilled
** with all the fulness of God/*

The death of the saints is precious in the
sight of the Lord, because by it he brings
them to everlasting life. In all men there is
a presage and earnest desire of immortality ;
and the belief of a future existence is insepara-
bly connected with our idea of an all-power-
ful, wise, and just God. The darkness that
rested on this prospect, notwithstanding th^
general prevalence of the doctrine, is now re-
moved by the gospel of Christ. He hath
brought life and immortality to light, dispel-
led those clouds that rested on the grave, and
pointed out a state of endless existence beyond
that dark region. This is one of the great
advantages of the Christian institution, that, it
gives the clear promise and sure hope of eter-
nal life. It represents death as a departure
hence, in order to bring us to our exalted Re-
deemer, who lives and reigns for ever, and by
whom the saints shall be presented faultless
before the presence of the divine glory with
exceeding joy.

Weare to consider the everlasting rest which

SERMON IX. 175

remainelh for the people of God, as the fruit
of the Saviour's merits and sufferings, as one
of the greatest and noblest effects of his ascen-
sion into heaven, and of his powerful media-
tion for us at the right hand of God. The
felicity of heaven is indeed the gift of God ;
but that gift is secured and acquired for us
through Jesus Christ, our Lord. '' I give
'* unto my sheep eternal life," saith he, ** and
" they shall never perish, neither shall any
*' one pluck them out of my hand."

This eternal life imports more than we can
express or comprehend ; something more ex-
cellent than eye hath seen, or ear heard, or
heart can conceive. Crowns, sceptres and
triumphs, every kind of worldly success and
prosperity, are but faint resemblances of this
eternal, unspeakable, inconceivable happiness.
No pain, nor sorrow, nor death are there.
There is fulness of joy and happiness for ever-
more. Nor shall the souls only of the saints
be thus blessed and happy : their bodies which
now rest in hope, shall also be raised with im-
mortal beauty and excellence. They are still
under the guardianship of that blessed Saviour,
to whom the very dust of the saints is precious,
who will not suifer one atom of their bodies

176 SERMON IX.

to perish ; who was himself the first fruits of
them who sleep, and who by the resurrection
of his own body, has consecrated theirs to a
glorious immortality. *' For, since by man
*' came death, by man came also the resur-
** rection of the dead ; and, therefore, when
*' Christ, who is our life, shall appear, we
*' shall also appear with him in glory.'* By
that almighty power by which he made the
w^orlds, and upholds them in being ; by which
he nailed our sins to the cross, triumphed over
the king of terrours, and conquered all the
legions of the prince of darkness, he will also
rescue the captive bodies of all the saints from
the power of the grave, raise them up in his
own most glorious likeness, and swallow up
death in victory. He will command the four
winds to restore those bodies which they have
scattered over the face of the earth. The
winds and storms shall obey his word ; the sea
shall give up the dead which are in it, and
death and hell shall deliver up the dead which
are in them, and all the generations of men
shall return to a life which endurethfor ever.
'* I will ransom them from the power of the
^^ grave : I will redeem them from death.
** O death I will be thy plague : O grave I

SERMON IX. 177

'* will be thy destruction." In the joyful
prospect of this happy event, a dying saint
can even now triumph over death, and say,
'* O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where
*' is thy victory." Thanks be to God who
giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus
Christ.

VOL. II. A a

ITS

SERMON X

The goodness and power of Christ, ?nanifested by
his works on earth, conclusive proofs of his
divine nature.

John, Chap. 9, Verse 32.

" Since the world began was it not heard that any man opened
the eyes of one that was born blind."

My present object is, in the first place, to
make a few remarks on the history recorded
in this chapter, and then to state the force of
the argument impHed in the text; that since
Jesus opened the eyes of the bhnd, and did
many miracles, he must have been something
more tlian man ; must have been commission-
ed and countenanced by heaven : for since
the world began it was never heard that any
jnan altered the course of nature, or opened
the eyes of one who had been born blind.

Who can sufficiently admire the wisdom
gnd goodness of Jesus in choosing the person

SERMON X. 179

spoken of in this chapter of the Evangelist as
the subject of a miracle. He was a poor blind
man who sat begging at the gate of the tem-
ple. The great and the mighty of this world
would have passed by without noticing such
a child of misery* or they would perhaps have
made him an object of their scorn, and a sub-
ject for their diversion. But Jesus, though
higher than the highest, always practised the
most endearing condescension and humility,
and preached good tidings unto the poor. He
went about continually doing good ; seeking
objects of distress whom he might relieve,
constantly employed in that merciful errand
on which he was sent. His miracles were all
of the humane and benevolent kind. The
infinite power with which he was armed, was
never employed but for the benefit of man-
kind. In order to display it he did not com-
mand fire to descend from heaven and con-
sume his enemies ; he did not let loose the
tempest as a scourge to punish mankind ; he
did not strike dumb the tongue which blas-
phemed him, or deprive of sight them who
sought to apprehend him. On the contrary,
he bound up the broken hearted, he proclaim-
ed liberty to the captive, he fed the hungry,

180 SERMON X.

he opened the eyes of the Mind, he gave
hearing to the deaf, and feet to the lame.
How forcible a demonstration of his divine
original. So gracious a messenger could pro-
ceed only from him who is love and goodness
itself. How beautiful and striking a charac-
teristick of that dispensation of grace which
he came to reveal ! How noble an example
for our imitation !

This poor man was not only blind, but he
had been so from his infancy. His blindness
was not the effect of any accident or disease,
which art or medicine might remove. It was
a natural defect in the organ, to supply which
the same infinite power and wisdom were re-
quisite as to form the organ at first. This pre-
cluded the possibility of any kind of deception,
and fully evinced the truth and certainty of
the miracle.

It is, farther, worthy of remark that the
person now cured was well known to the in-
habitants of Jerusalem. His misfortune, his
profession, his situation, must have attracted
the attention of multitudes. As he daily sat
at the gate of the temple asking alms from the
passengers, he must have been known to all
who went thither to pay their morning and

SERMON X. 181

evening sacrifice. This circumstance was an
undeniable proof of the certainty of the mira-
cle ; it shewed that there was no collusion in
the case ; that this man was not suborned to
declare that he had been born blind while he
really had not ; but, being known to the mall,
it was evident that, if he was restored to sight,
a miraculous work had actually been perform-
ed.

As Jesus, therefore, went out of the temple,
he cast an eye on this hapless sufferer, whom
he immediately discerned to be a proper ob-
ject of compassion, and the fit subject of a
miracle. His disciples also beheld the blind
man, but with very different impressions.
With a disposition, of which we have still too
many examples, to consider the misfortunes
of others as judgments from heaven, and with
a very unseasonable spirit of curiosity, they
ask, ** Master, who did sin, this man, or his
*' parents, that he was born blind V* The an-
swer is direct and positive ; there was an high-
er cause, the glory which would redound to
God by this demonstration of his mercy and
power. We are as clay in the hands of the
potter, who maketh one vessel unto honour
and another unto dishonour. The divine vis-

1^-2 SERxMON X.

itatlons are not all punishments : some are for
our trial, our warning, our reformation : all
shew forth the power, the justice, and the
goodness of God.

He who at first said, let there be light, and
there was light, could with one word have
opened the eyes of the blind. Nay, without
utterance his will was sufficient to have pro-
duced the effect. But he chose to employ
the instrumentality of means. Nor did this
detract in the least from the miraculous nature
of the cure. For It surely required power
equally infinite to communicate to clay and
water, the ability of curing the blind, as it
does to open their eyes instantaneously, and
without the intervention of second causes.
But Jesus would try thefaith and obedience of
his patient ; he would teach us that it is only
by the use of those means v/hich he has ap-
pointed that we can expect the cure of our
spiritual diseases: he would shew that the most
improbable means will produce the desired
eftbct when lie determines that it shall be so :
that bread and wine can strengthen and refresh
the soul when received by faith according to
his appointment : that water can avail to the
mystical washing away of sins, when accom-

SERMON X. 185

panied with the blessing from on high : that
Jordan can heal a leper and Siloam give light
to the blind, when the Almighty gives the
word, go, wash and be whole. In short, he
would represent by expressive symbols the
original depravity of our guilty and polluted
nature, and the necessity of our being washed,
cleansed and sanctified by the blood of Jesus
and the Spirit uf our God. AV ashing in the
pool of Siloam was, therefore, merely a sacra-
mental act, whereby the blessings to be com-
municated were typified and sealed, and the
divine power more strikingly manifested in the
sight of the people.

The feehngs of the blind man, upon the
communication of sight, are difficult to be ex-
pressed or even conceived by us who have
always enjoyed the faculty of sight, and who,
being never subjected to the want of it, do not
sufficiently value this important blessing.
From the general and obvious views of nature
which present themselves to every man, let
me direct your thoughts to this spiritual im-
provement.

Into what a world of wonders did the blind
man find himself transported ! How did he
gaze with admiration on the heavens and thx:

184 SERMON X.

earth, on the faces and shapes of all creatures,
on the varieties of colours around him, on the
cheerfulness of the light, on the lively beams
of the sun, on the vast expanse of the air, on
the limpid transparency of the water, on the
glorious ornaments of the temple, and on the
stately places of Jerusalem ! Every thing was
full of delight, and excited astonishment.
With similar sensations will the servants of
God enter into the joy of their Lord. Thus
will they be affected when, the darkness of
mortality being done away, they shall behold
God's presence in righteousness, whence they
shall be called to witness the felicity of the
world above, the shining mansions of saints
and angels, the majestick splendour of the di-
vine throne, and the incomprehensible bright-
ness of the Godhead.

So great was the change produced on the
external appearance as well as the inward
feelings of the man who had been restored to
sight, that his neighbours and acquaintance
did not at first recognise him to be the same
person. This shewed the certainty and great-
ness of the miracle. They did not greedily
swallow, like simple and ignorant people, the
tale however improbable, but believed only

SERMON X. 185

after a careful inquiry into the fact. The
thing itself was in their opinion also so great
and wonderful, that witliout the express testi-
mony of their senses, they would have deem-
ed it a mere trick and imposition. This may
also be considered as a fit representation of the
change produced in the habits of him whose
spiritual blindness is removed by light from on
high. His former companions in guih and
folly, unable to account for the change, are
doubtful whether it be the same person. His
heart and conduct are certainly not the same.
Before, the mind was dark and gloomy — now,
it is full of light and cheerfuhiess, through the
knowledge of God, and the hope of heaven.
Before, the heart was devoted to earthly things
— now the convert uses this world as not abu-
sing it. Before, his thoughts and anxieties had
reference only to his body, his estate, or the
opinion of mankind — now, they regard the
displeasure of God and the peril of his soul.
'^ If any man be in Christ, he is a new crea-
^* ture. Old things are passed away — behold,
'' all things are become new !"

The poor man removes the doubts of his
friends, by declaring I am he. He would not
conceal from others the mercies he had ex-

voL. n. B b

186 SERMON X,

perienced ; he would not be so unjust ot
ungrateful as to suppress the loving kindness
of his God. We are unworthy of that light
and those blessings which we enjoy, unless we
seek to diffuse them among mankind. *' Let
'* them give thanks whom the Lord hath re-
*' deemed and delivered from the hand of the
*' enemy ; let them praise him with their
** whole heart ; let them shew forth all his
** marvellous works ; let them declare his
*' name among their brethren ; let them exalt
^* him in the congregation of the people, and
'^ praise him in the assembly of the elders."

They who before doubted, now became in-
quisitive. They ask, how were thine eyes
opened ? The poor man, who had been so
ready to declare himself the subject of the
cure, is equally zealous to proclaim the authour
of it. '' A man that is called Jesus made clay
*' and anointed mine eyes, and said to me,
** go to the pool of Siloam and wash, and I
*^ went and washed and I received sight.'*

Had the people, who made inquiry into this
astonishing fact, heard it with unprejudiced
ears, they could not but have listened with
pious admiration ; they could not but have
declared their belief in so omnipotent an

SERMON X. 187

Agent. But, adverse to the blessed Jesus,
and partial to the Pharisees, they summon
him that was once blind before these implaca-
ble enemies of Christ, and this cure having
been performed on the Sabbath, they fix upr
on this circumstance as the ground of their
accusation.

But as the malice of Christ's enemies was,
for the most part, frustrated and repelled up-
on their own heads, so their present scheme
not only failed of success, but served to make
the miracle wrought by him on the blind
man more generally known — served to shew
its force in proving his divine mission and to
increase the number of his disciples. AVe
now find the man who once sat and begged,
witnessing a good confession before the as-
sembled Pharisees. We find him defending
the gracious authour of his cure against the
cavils of malignity and injustice. We see
him, a resolute confessor, suffering excom-
munication for the name of Christ, and main-
taining the innocence, the honour, the divini-
ty of his benefactor. We hear him teaching
the doctrines of truth to them who sat in the
chair of Moses, and convicting of blindness
t'hem who punished him for seeing.

188 SERMON X.

The Pharisees strove to confute and dis-
prove the testimony of the man that was blind
by an appeal to his parents. They supposed
that the fear of excommunication and of in-
curing the anger of the rulers, would induce
them to deny the circumstance of their son's
being born blind, and thus it would follow
that no miracle had been performed. Being
disappointed in this, and finding it impossible
to deny the fact, they next try to suppress it ;
and, by reviling the man who had been cured,
to make him ashamed of confessing Jesus.
But neither did this succeed. The man, far
from being ashamed to own himself a disci-
ple of Jesus, endeavours to persuade them
also to become such, and argues with them
upon the subject of this miracle with a sim-
plicity, but at the same time with an ingenui-
ty and force of reasoning, which cannot be
surpassed even by the most acute disputants.

Miracles have ever been esteemed an un-
deniable proof of a divine mission. Our
Lord himself appeals to those w^orks which he
wrought as the best argument which he could
employ in support of his pretensions as the
son of God.

When John sent two of his disciples to in-

SERMON X. 18P

quire whether Jesus was the Messiah, our
Lord gave no other answer than this. Go and
shew John again those things which yc do
hear and see, inform him ot" my works, and
let him judge if they can be performed by
any other than the sent of God. The bUnd
receive their sight, and the lame walk, the
lepers are cleansed, the deaf hcar^ and the
dead are raised up.

The argument derived from miracles being
the main pillar of the Christian faith, much
has been said and written concerning their
nature, possibility, credibility, and tendency,
to prove the truth of Christianity. But the
argument was perhaps never more forcibly
and concisely stated than in the simple and
ingenious discourse of this poor man, who
had himself been the subject of so striking a
miracle : *' Why, herein is a marvellous
*' thing, that ye know not from whence he
^* is, and yet he hath opened mine eyes.
** Now we know that God hearcth not sinners ;
^* but if any man be a worshipper of God,
" and doeth his will, him he heareth. Since
" the world began was it not heard that any
*' man opened the eyes of one that was born
** blind. If this man was not of God, he
'' could do nothing/'

190 SERMON X.

To alter, suspend, or reverse the laws df
nature, must require the same infinite power
which first established them. In the words
of the man who was once blind, " Smce the
'* world began was it not heard that any man
** opened the eyes of one that was born blind.'*
Whoever alters, suspends, or reverses the
laws of nature, must either be a divine per-
son, or must be invested with divine power ;
in the language of the person who had been
blind, '^ if this man was not of God he could
" do nothing/' From the nature of the
Supreme Being we may with absolute certain-
ly infer, that he will not countenance an im-
postor, that he will not alter or suspend the
laws of nature but for wise and important pur-
poses, that they who are endowed with the
power of working miracles are approved and
sent by him, and are worthy of credit in all
they say, and of obedience in all they com-
mand ; in the words of scripture, '' We know
'* that God heareth not sinners ; but if any
'^ man be a worshipper of God and doeth his
"will, him he heareth." The general in-
ference from these points is evident, since
Jesus Christ wrought miracles, he was sent
by God, and since he was sent by God, his

SERMON X. 191

religion is true and of divine authority. We
are as much bound to believe and obey it, as
to obey the voice of conscience, which is the
natural vicegerent of God in the soul of man.
But how are we certain that Jesus Christ did
work miracles ? Of this we are equally cer-
tain as of his existence. For both are decla-
red by the same persons and rest upon the
same authority. And of the existence of
Jesus Christ we are as certain as that there was
such a person as Julius Caesar, who was dead
more than 1 800 years ago, or that there is such
an island as Japan w^hich none of us perhaps
ever saw. Our knowledge in both cases rests
on the testimony of credible- witnesses ; and,
perhaps, the historians of our Saviour's life
and miracles are more worthy of credit than
any others, because by affirming what they
did, they exposed themselves to loss and per-
secution ; and some of them moreover sealed
their testimony with their blood. They must
have been well assured of the truth of facts
which they would die rather than bear wit-
ness against.

The reasoning of the poor man, wliose
natural and spiritual eyes had both so lately
been opened, was so convincing and powerful

19^ SERMON X.

that even the subtle and ingenious Pharisees
could make no reply. But, instead of yield-
ing to his arguments, such was their perverse-
ness and pride, that they determined to get
rid of him whose presence and discourse were
equally galling to them ; and they cast him
out of the Synagogue. As light is painful to
a diseased eye, so truth is unpleasant to a
mind entangled by prejudice and errour.
Fools despise wisdom and instruction. A
scorner hateth rebuke and shutteth his ear to
those friendly admonitions which open to him
his faults. The wicked cannot bear the pre-
sence and example of wise and good men.
Their own vices and defects appear then in a
clearer light.

The poor man that was once blind, though
cast out, was not forsaken. Though ejected
from the Synagogue, he was admitted into
the kingdom of Heaven : And wherever the
gospel of Jesus is preached, he will be re-
membered and spoken of to the end of the
world as the first confessor and martyr to the
Christian cause. No sacrifice made for the
sake of Christ shall be in vain. He is faithful
who hath promised, and he is not unjust to
forget our work of faith and labour of love.

SERMON X. 193

Whosoever loveth father or mother, brother
or sister, more than Christ, is not worthy of
him. But whosoever shall leave father and
mother, brother and sister, house and land,
for the sake of the gospel, shall ni no wise
lose his reward. If any man deny Christ be-
fore men, him will he also deny before his
father who is in heaven. But they who pre-
serve themselves unspotted from the world,
who steadfastly and faithfully bear testimony
to the truth in the midst of a crooked and per-
verse generation, shall be openly acknow-
ledged in the presence of his father and his
holy angels, and graciously welcomed into
the joy of their Lord.

VOL, II,. q c

194

SERMON XI,

On the duty of holding the righteous in remem-
brajice, and the important advantages derived
from the recollection of their virtues.

Psalm 112, Verse 6.
** The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance.'*

Righteousness, in the language of scrips

ture, denotes general worth or excellence of
character : To it is ascribed whatever belongs
to reHgion or holiness. He that is- righteous
and shall be had in everlasting remembrance
is described in this Psalm as fearing God, de-
lighting greatly in his commandments, up-
right, gracious, full of compassion and charity.
Sometimes, indeed, the sense of the expres-
sion is limited, and the righteous are compared
and contrasted with those who are distinguish-
ed by goodness. Thus, in the well known
illustration of the grace of God in the salvation

SERMON XI. 195

of men, the Apostle observes, '* scarcely for
'* a rigliteous man will one die, yet peradven-
'* turc for a good man some would even dare
*' to die/' But, in general, and excepting
comparisons and distinctions of this kind, by
righteousness is meant whatever belongs to a
perfect character.

Persons of this character shall be in ever-
lasting remembrance. This expression must
also be understood in a sense limited by the
temporary duration of all human affections
and pursuits. The time of our sojourning
h^re Is but short, and the survivor, in whose
memory the good man lives, shall himself
soon pass away and be forgotten. A few illus-
trious characters, whose lot enabled them to
perform great exploits, and to act a distinguish-
ed part on the theatre of the world, may live
for ever in the page of history, and receive the
praises and the blessings of all future genera-
tions of men. But with regard to the great
bulk of mankind, even the pious, the upright,
and the good, their love and their hatred and
their envy soon perish, and, in a little time,
the place which once knew them shall know
them no more. The Psalmist, therefore,
means that the memory of the righteous sliall

196 SERMON XL

not speedily be effaced from the hearts of those
who knew and valued then* inlegrhy and
worth, but sliall be often and long recalled
with sentiments of honour, gratitude, and af-
fection.

In illustration of this subject, I propose to
inquire,

1. By whom the memory of the just is
blessed, and held in respectful and grateful
remembrance.

^2. Why we ought to hold the righteous in
everlasting remembrance, and

3. ^«t£; we shall most properly and effec-
tually perpetuate the remembrance of the
righteous.

I. We are to inquire by whom the memory
of the just is blessed, and long held in respect-
ful and grateful remembrance — and

1. Good men are held in everlasting re-
membrance by their own family : for by them
the benign influence of their good qualities
was most sensibly felt. In them the memory
of their virtues was mingled with the warm
sentiments of natural affection. To them the
loss of their love, their services, their example,
is the severest deprivation. The affectionate
partner of their lives, who, for a long course

SERMON XL 197

of years has been in the habit of imparting
mutual assistance and consolation, whose in-
terests were necessarily interwoven with theirs,
whose happiness was greatly, I had almost
said wholly, in their power, who best knew
their good qualities, who witnessed that piety
and charity which modesty concealed from
the publick eye ; on them doubtless is made
the most lasting impression of the virtue and
affection of the partner who is gone down to
the dust ; to their memory the venerable
image is often present ; in their ears the lisp-
ing accents of their common offspring are
eloquent ; the features of the deceased per-
petuated in the children who survive, recall
and renew that respect and gratitude and affec-
tion which the living failed not to command,
and suffer not the memorial to perish from
their breast.

To the children also of worthy and affec-
tionate parents, who are now no more, the
remembrance of their character can never
cease to be interesting. To them they impute
with pleasure and gratitude the various virtues
they may possess ; to them they refer the suc-
cess in life which they may have enjoyed ;
to their latest hour they reflect with melan-

198 SERMON XL

choly satisfaction on the fond and affectionate
solicitude and anxiety with which they watch-
ed over their infant years, and guarded their
steps in the slippery paths of youth ; on the
pains and expense which they bestowed on
their instruction and education ; how they
kindly relieved their wants, and attended them
in sickness and pain; how they solemnly
warned them of the ways of the destroyer ;
how they led them by their wise precepts and
pious example into the paths of peace ; on
the sanguine hopes which they delighted to
indulge from the prospects of their opening
talents, and on the fervent prayers which they
addressed to heaven for their prosperity and
success in life. The time is not distant when
we ourselves shall live no more ; but if we are
righteous, we shall be had in remembrance.
If we are faithful to our God and to our chil-
dren, they will bless and consecrate our mem-
ory when our heads are laid in the dust.
Even their posterity may learn some good
thing from them which we have imparted ;
and that happy day may at last come, when
we shall be able to say before the throne of
God, '' Behold us and the children whom
^' thou hast given us.''

SERMON XL 199

May we not even descend lower, and say
that the righteous man is held in remembrance
by the domesticks also of his family. Tlie
servants of a just, humane and generous mas-
ter, remember with gratitude the marks of
kindness and confidence which he has be-
stowed on them ; they regret his departure
with unfeigned sorrow ; they respect his
memory ; when they go abroad into the
world they celebrate his praise ; by them his
character reaches far and near, and is handed
down with honour to the children of many
generations.

2. The righteous are held in remembrance
by the more intimate associates of their youth
or of their more mature age.

The pressure on the mind is severe indeed
when by the will of God we have lost the
most faithful, the most affectionate of our
associates ; those of whom we had conceived
the most delightful expectations ; or those by
whose means we had attained the most solid
advantages for this world or for eternity. But
their memorial is not lost; not the remem-
brance of their virtues and of their intellectual
endowments ; not the remembrance of their
kindness ; not the remembrance of their

200 SERMON XT.

usefulness to us ; nor the remembrance of
the satisfaction which we have enjoyed with
them. And wliat is truly encouraging and
truly worthy of attention is, tliat all that wa^
precious and praiseworthy in a departed friend,
remains in the memory, while all his imper-
fections are buried in the grave. It is their
good and estimable qualities alone which con-
secrate their memorial within us, separated
from all the infirmities which were once uni-
ted to them. This, while it adds to the honour
and respect manifested for the memory of the
dead, is as useful as it is gratifying to the living.
We remember that which was good : we for-
get every infirmity which was attached to it ;
we dw^ell with affection on every advantage
and on every satisfaction which it yielded to
us, and its living impression isrivetted on our
hearts. We feel as if the image of the depart-
ed virtues, pure as the spirits of just men made
perfect, were before us, and we are still united
to them as by the cords of love. These recol-
lections equally solemn and impressive, have
a direct tendency both to comfort us in our
sorrow for those who are asleep, and to purify
our affections during the rest of our pilgrim-
age. We think of those who walked with

SERMON XL 201

God ; and their memorial kindles our abhor-
rence of the pollutions of the world, while
k awakens our ardour to become followers of
them who through faith and patience inherit
the promises. We think of the departed spi-
rits who were once our companions below, as
we contemplate the angels of God descending
to bless our recollections and to watch our ha-
bitations.

This posthumous existence in the memory
of those whom we once esteemed and loved
is a powerful incitement to virtue and a strong
consolation to the virtuous in the prospect of
their departure hence. For to be remembered
while he is no more ; to be sometimes recalled
to the memory of the living when he is re-
moved out of their sight ; to be wished alive
again by some of his surviving friends when
he is numbered with the dead, is among the
fondest desires of man. On the other hand, the
thought that as soon as our breath is flown
our memory is obliterated ; that our remem-
brance shall perish from the earth and we shall
have no name in the streets, is depressing be-
yond conception to the human mind, and sink??.
man even lower than the grave which hi'^ bo-
dy is to occupy.

VOL. II, D d

202 SERMON XI.

3. But while the memory of the wicked
shall utterly perish, or be recalled by all good
men with detestation and abhorrence, the
righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance ;
and that not only among their family and
friends, but also by all whom their labours
have profited, their instruction enlightened,
their example improved, or their bounty re-
lieved.

The dispositions which lead men to employ
their talents for the advantage of then* fellow-
creatures, and to do them good offices freely
without any hope of a requital, createoneof the
first distinctions by which one man can be rai-
sed above another. If they are animated by the
pure and cheerful spirit of religion they form
the most interesting of human characters. The
love wliich directs us, by a sense of duty,
where to feed the hungry, to clothe the na-
ked, to assist the weak, to comfort the poor, or
to revive the sorrowful ; the love which makes
usefulness our happiness, and the help of eve-
ry kind which we can bring to others our
habitual solicitude, is love out of a pure
heart, such as Christ requires and acknow-
ledges.

When this affection becomes the habit of

SERMON Xr. 203

the mind, it always finds its object readily;
and vvitliout departing from its proper sphere,
will always lead to the means of gloritying
God. It extends to those who need advice
or countenance, as well as to those who arc
destitute of food and raim^Mit ; to those who
require the aid of superiour influence or su-
periour talents, as well as to those who are
pressed down with sorrow ; to the hidden re-
treats of ignorance and misery, as well as to
the opportunities of known and publick utili-
ty The usefulness of men who live under
the influence of benevolent and generous at-
fections, and who follow them steadily and
earnestly through life, extends far beyond
their natural or immediate sphere, by means
of those whom they relieve or assist ; and even
beyond the limits of their own lives. But
every thing which depends on the breath of
man has its destined period. The most use-
ful life is spent, before we are aware of its
progress ; and all the kindness which anima-
ted its spirit perishes in the dust.

The selfish man dies, and we lament not ;
or we think of him with more compassion
than regret, or we remember the artful guise
which his selfishness could put on, and have

m^, SERMON XI.

nothing better to remember ; or we think of
those who fill his place, and who cannot be
less useful in the world than he has been.

But the righteous do not perish as the fool
dieth : they leave an impressive and a perma-
nent memorial. When such men depart, we
feel as if a dark cloud had risen around us,
and we fear as we enter into the cloud. We
think with emotion of the short-lived labours
of the most faithful men, and of the pressure
of calamities on the world when they are ga-
thered to the dust of their fathers ; they who
had so great a share in all that was worths and
respectable around them ; they whose hand
was found in every thing useful or pleasing
to their fellow creatures When the righte-
ous is taken away, the living will lay it to
heart. The report of his disease excites uni-
versal sympathy and regret. The poor whom
his bounty relieved, as they pass the mansion
where he once resided, will strike their pen-
sive bosoms and say, *' this was the abode of
^' him whose heart was ever anxious to devise
*^ and whose hand was ever ready to execute
*' liberal things/' The religious society of
vvhich he was so worthy a member will often
turn v/ith tears in ihcir eyes to the place which

SERMON XI. ^06

he once occupied in their assembly, but which
is now left vacant. The orphan will pay ma-
ny a grateful visit to his grave, and water with
his tears the spot where the ashes of his father
repose.

II. As we cannot propose any thing but
the most cursory view of the subject on which
I have proposed to treat, I now hasten to in-
quire why we ought to cherish the remem-
brance of good men.

1 . And we ought to honour the memory
of the just from respect to their worth. Can
we refuse to esteem the tender husband, the
aflectionate parent, the generous master, the
faithful friend, the good member of society,
the friend of religion ? Who so odd as not
to revere the man who considers the case of
the poor, and promotes and diffuses happiness
around him ? He who has eminently and
perseveringly sustained these characters can-
not be forgotten by the wise and discerning.

It is our duty to venerate the Image of God :
we must therefore respect and honour those
who are his workmanship, who are renewed
after his likeness in righteousness and true
holiness ; who are his children, heirs of God
and joint heirs with Jesus Christ. The charms

^06 SERMON XI.

and attractions of the most perfect form what
are they compared to the beauties of holiness ?
Where are proportion, grace, and dignity-
equal to their's, vvho are the children of the
most high ? The righteous resemble God ;
they strive to be perfect as he is perfect ; to be
holy as he is holy ; and to have the same
mind in them which was also in Christ. And
can we think of the perfections of deity ; can
we contemplate the amiable and perfect cha-
racter of the son of man without sentiments of
veneration, honour, and love ? And in re-
garding the righteous as imitators of God, as
resembling our blessed Redeemer, shall we not
be filled with pleasure and admiration ? Shall
we not be constrained and determined to pre-
serve their memory with honour ?

^2. We ought to remember the righteous
with respect and honour out of gratitude for
the advantages which we have received from
them. When we shew kindness and confer
favours we well know and naturally expect
that they should make an impression on the
minds of those who receive them. We feel
their insensibility and ingratitude when no
return is made. What we resent and condemn
in others, shall we be capable of committing

SERMON XI. ^07

towards our worthy benefactors ? Wc must
not forget what profit we have derived from
them. We must affectionately remember
what we owe to their cares, their counsels,
their exertions, their assistance, their friend-
ship and their example. By beholding their
good works and worthy character, we have
been imperceptibly and sweetly drawn to the
approbation and imitation of real excellence.
We are in the way of receiving much advan-
tage also, after they are removed from us, by
revolving the years that are past, by review-
ing the worthy deeds and high attainments of
the saints who have left us. Thus we learn
what was avoided, what was resisted, and
what was overcome : we learn how amiable,
how comfortable, how respectable, is the life
of the righteous. They shew us, and shall it
be without effect, how to conduct ourselves
with propriety, by what means to attain their
distinction and enjoyments, how to secure the
approbation of the wise and good, and espe-
cially of the Judge of all.

3. We ought to remember the righteous with
honour, and, from a sense of justice, to vindi-
cate their character and counteract the influ-
ence of misrepresentation and detraction.

^208 SERMON XL

We well know that good may be evil spo-
ken of; we well know that some men are ex-
ceedingly eager to grasp at, and to circulate
unfavourable reports of religious characters.
They lessen the worth of the righteous, they
impute improper motives to their best actions,
and take delight in bringing them to their own
level. Piety and punctuality in celebrating
the institutions of religion have often been
branded as hypocrisy ; alms-giving, and atten-
tion to the necessities and comforts of the poor
are called ostentation ; liberality, in its most
generous deeds and exertions, has been repre-
sented as the most interested selfishness ; regu-
lar manners are styled want of spirit and pen-
uriousness. If, my friends, the righteous are
so misrepresented and traduced, if especially
they have enabled us to be vouchers and
witnesses for their worth by their friendship
and good offices, are we not called upon to
do them justice ? Let us assert the purity of
their principles, the genuineness, the regular-
ity and fervour of their devotions, their pure
and active charity, and that, in short, their be-
haviour was such as becomes the gospel of
the grace of God which denies ungodliness

SERMON XL 209

and worldly lusts, and teaches men to live
soberly, righteously, and godly in this life.

4. We ought to cherish the remembrance of
good men, from a regard to the honour and
interest of religion. We ought to speak of
their worth and exhibit their characters, that
thereby men may be induced to admire and
receive that blessed system, the excellence
and power and truth of which were demon-
strated in their attainments, worth and happi-
ness. We are required to employ every me-
thod of affecting and impressing the minds of
men, and of leading them to think seriously
of their souls, of their duty and of eternity.
Thus our Lord urges his followers to manifest
superiour goodness, in order to promote the in-
terest of religion, let your light so shine before
men, that others seeing your good works may
glorify your father in heaven. But it may be
that we are afraid to propose ourselves as mo-
dels of excellence for the imitation of others,
and of those especially whose best interest we
have most at heart. To them, too, our real char-
acter may not be sufficiently known ; they may
remain under the influence of misrepresenta-
tion, prejudice and suspicion respecting us.

VOL. II. E e

^210 SERMON XL

If these things be so, or if we only think oiir
example labours under such disadvantages, we
are bound the more to avail ourselves of the
known worth and reputation of the righteous
for arresting the attention, exciting the esteem,
and gaining the hearts of our friends. From
time to time, and as occasion offers, let us thus
address those who are dear to us. ** See what
'^ this righteous man was, what objects he pur-
*« sued, what worth he manifested, he preferred
*' the service of God, he sought the honour that
*« Cometh from the most high. He was respec-
<< ted and honoured in life. His memory is
^' dear to his surviving friends. He resisted
*< the prevailing vices and temptations of the
** age, and of his condition of life. He wit-
" nessed for God, and adorned the doctrine of
*« God his Saviour." By representations of this
kind, and the reflections and expostulations
they naturally suggest, much good may be
done; our object may be secured : our friends
may be rendered attentive, they may even be
affected and changed, they may arise and fol-
low the righteous ; they may walk as they also
walked.

5. In a word, we ought to cherish the re-
membrance of good men, from a regard to

SERMON XL 211

the glory of God. Honouring the righteous
is to the glory of God and the promoting of
the interest of the gospel, beeause in their char-
acter, their attainments, and their happiness,
the glory of God is displayed, the image of
God is exhibited, and the happiness of the
saints is demonstrated. Piety delights in be-
holding the glory of the Lord in all his works
and ways ; in the heavens and in the earth,
in the sea and in the dry land. There are
manifestations of his glory, however, more es-
pecially attracting and affecting. What is
seen of God in the history and character of the
saints is of this nature. We see the divine
wisdom, power, goodness, sovereignty and
faithfulness, in raising them up ; in the dis-
pensations of his providence towards them ;
in the influence of his grace ; in their being
sanctified, established and settled; in their be-
ing kept through faith unto salvation, we
find the saints ascribe their salvation in all its
parts to the blessing of God. *^ In me, says the
*' Apostle, Jesus Christ shewed all long-suffer-
** ing. By the grace of God 1 am what 1 am."
Christians, in finding the persecutor and blas-
phemer preaching the faith which he once
strove to destroy, glorified God in him. In

-2V2 SERMON XL

the progress and perfection of the Christian life,
and in the history of the saints, the presence,
power and faithfulness of God are manifested
according to their varying conditions and ex-
igenci^. Is it not our duty to preserve such
manifestations of God that the affections and
graces of piety may be awakened and cherish-
ed ? This we do by holding the righteous in
honoured remembrance. Happy are they
who by paying due honour to the righteous,
and making their light to shine before men,
induce them to glorify their heavenly father,

III. We are now^, in the last place, to in*
quire how we shall most properly and effectu-
ally perpetuate the remembrance of the righte-
ous who have no more share in any thing that
is done under the sun. And,

I. The first and essential rule for holding
the righteous in an endeared remembrance is
carefully to review their character and worth
from time to time. I can easily suppose oc-
casions on which it is not at all necessary to
desire men to dwell on the history and worth
of their valuable deceased friends. Are they
taken from them at a time when they did not
look for so fatal an event, but on the contrary
were reckoning on the continuance of their

SERMON XI 213

protecting presence; when, too, men are pla-
ced in circumstances wherein they formerly
experienced, and now much need the wise
counsel and effectual help of their friends ;
on such occasions their thoughts are full of
them, and their tongue is the pen of a ready
writer in uttering lamentations, and in offer-
ing liberal tributes of praise. By and by,
however, we find them greatly changed ; bu-
siness and pleasure occupy the mind and en-
gross the heart. We then have as much rea-
son to blame their forgetfulness as formerly
we regretted the danger of their being over-
whelmed by sorrow. That such charges may
not be brought against us, that the endeared
remembrance of the righteous with all its hap-
py effects may be preserved, we ought to re-
view their history and dwell on their worth
on particular occasions. The following sea-
sons are highly natural and proper for this
purpose. We ought to remember the righte-
ous with affection, and talk of them with ho-
nour, when similar characters claim our re-
gard; when we know or hear of the same
loss sustained by others as we experienced by
the death of our dear friends ; when circum-
stances similar to those which distinguished

^il4 SERMON XI.

dieir worth occur ; when the celebrating of
their praise promises to have happy effects
on those around us ; when by doing justice
to their character, we silence aspersions and
confound the malicious and the wicked. On
such occasions as these it will be highly use-
ful to meditate on the worth, and to publish
the honours of the righteous.

2. We effectually cherish the memory of
good men, by introducing them and their
worth into our acts of devotion. The great
advantages derived from the company and
advice, the assistance and example of good
men, are not the only blessings we are in dan-
ger of overlooking and not duly prizing be-
cause they are not connected with the thoughts
of God and the exercises of piety. If v/e re-
flected more on our dependence on God, and
his goodness in bestowing and preserving our
enjoyments, we would value them more high-
ly. By carrying them in our minds when we
appear before God, and by blessing God for
them, their worth is enhanced, our gratitude
is heightened and perfected. And have we
not to remark, in particular, that the devout
sentiments we feel and express to the giver of
every good and perfect gift, for blessing u.^

SERMON XL 215

with the knowledge and the friendship of the
righteous, will revive and heighten our value
for them ; for those excellent persons whose
highest and dearest object it was to bring us
by good advice, good example, good educa-
tion, and numberless endearing good offices,
to the knowledge of the Father and of the
Son, whom to know is life eternal.

3. We ought to preserve an honourable re-
membrance of the righteous by imitating that
worth and excellence which we admire and
commend. It is in this manner only that our
praise is proved to be sincere. It is thus we
profit most by their excellencies. It is thus we
will most eftectually preserve their endeared
remembrance and perpetuate the power of
their example. Let us then be imitators of
them, as they were of Christ. Let us beware
lest, in commending them, we be not found
condemning ourselves.

There are marks of respect and of grateful
remembrance, which in certain circumstances
may be decent and proper, and useful, but
which may be given and perhaps have often
been given by custom, by ostentation, by self-
ishness and not by affection. Sincere regard
cannot be expressed by every one in pompous

^16 15ERMON XI.

monuments and the parade of mourning.
Imitation of worth is in the power of all, and
close imitation is the highest testimony of the
most unfeigned affection and respect. Be
then, my brethren, what the righteous were.
Have they fallen who stood in the first ranks,
supporting manfully and successfully the
cause of religion, fighting the battles of the
Lord, of order, of truth, of worth, of happi-
ness ! Fill ye up the breach ; repair ye the
loss ; complete ye the ranks ; raise ye their
weapons ; shew their skill ; maintain their
advantages ; quit ye like men, and be strong.

4. Last of all, it will have the happiest ef-
i^ct on your preserving the endeared memo-
ry of the righteous, to meditate on the hon-
ours conferred on them and awaiting them
from heaven in this world, and in that which
is to come.

Whoever is truly righteous is highly hon-
oured of God, whether the world believe it
and perceive it or not. They bear his image ;
they enjoy his favour ; they belong to his fa-
mily ; they are united to all the great and the
good, and the venerable in heaven and on
earth. Has not the Lord, the Judge of all,
often distinguished his righteous servants, and

SERMON XI. 2l7

caused men to take knowledge of the objects
of his favour and approbation ? He has rai-
sed them on high ; he has enrolled their
names in the hsts of glory. See in what stri-
king instances, on how many memorable oc-
casions, providence has marked them for the
care and charge of heaven. See his light
shining on their tabernacle; see his interposi-
tions in their behalf, in rescuing them from
impending ruin, in bestowing unexpected
blessings, in overruling and controlling what
is formidable and hostile and from which no
way of escape seemed possible, in bringing
good out of evil, and causing the malice and
machinations of enemies to produce more good
than the wisdom and exertions of friends. In
such dispensations we are made to say, verily,
there is a God that rules the world, that loves
and honours the righteous.

** Him that honoureth me, saith the Lord,
*' I will honour/* History, experience, and
observation bear witness to the faithfulness of
God in every age. Through life favour has
distinguished the righteous, the light of God's
countenance has been lifted upon them.
Sometimes also in a conspicious manner the

VOL. II. F f

^18 SERMON Xr.

Lord favours and distinguishes his servants at
their departure out of this world. By length of
days, by a sound constitution, by vigorous fac-
ulties, by increasing usefulness, by heightened
enjoyment, by the fruit of their labours, by
more abundant respect and honour, by sere-
nity of mind, by confidence in God, by the
unclouded prospect of glory, honour and im-
mortality have the righteous, in the end of life,
been honoured of the Lord. And ought not
we to preserve their memory with honour?

It is always true that the death of the saint
is dear to the Lord. On all the excellent of
the earth, however, the same tokens of the fa-
vour of heaven are not conferred, in the even-
hig or at the close of life. The sun sometimesr
leaves the horizon in an unclouded sky with
all nature serene and beautiful; at other times
he sets obscured in clouds. But it is the same
glorious luminary, whose brightness no clouds
can sully, and who disappears to rise again in
renewed splendour.

If we believe and meditate on the glory that
shall be revealed, if we place before our eyes
the descending judge, the assembled world;>
the publick, unfading and eternal honours of
the righteous, their depression and obscurity

SERMON XL ^19

will not only be as nothing, but will rather add
to their celebrity and glory. If such be the
heritage of them who seek God, can we but
be constrained to honour them whom God
delighteth to honour, and whom he will hold
in everlasting remembrance?

220

SERMON XII.

On the caution necessary to he observed in our
censure of others.

Matthew, Chap. 7, Verse 1.
" Judge not, that ye be not judged."

Though the opinion of the world is by no
means an infallible test of character, yet it is
not without reason that we set a high value on
reputation. Though the approbation of our
own conscience is the surest reward of virtue,
yet an indifference to reputation is not the at-
tendant of a mind most desirous to be satisfied
with itself. It is the attainment of those only
who have completely thrown away a good
opinion of themselves and have nothing to
lose. To every person then, who has a just
sensibility to reputation, it will appear a mat-
ter of the greatest importance, to establish a rule
to regulate the judgments which men form

SERMON Xir. 0^21

of one another, and to prevent those errours
into which they are Hahle to fall. This rule
our Saviour has laid down in the words of the
text; which forbids us rashly to form an unfa-
vourable judgment of others. For though the
precept is expressed in general terms, and lite*
rally taken would prevent us forming any opin-
ion of others, whether favourable or otherwise,
yet so seldom do mankind err on the favoura-
ble side, and so little harm arises from so do-
ing, that we can never interpret the precept as
in any respect directed against it. Besides
the intercourse and connections of society give
us an unavoidable interest in the character of
others. Were we to become indifferent spec-
tators of their conduct human life would stand
still. But this is impossible. We will love
those only who are deserving — we will trust
those only who are honest — we will believe
those only who have never deceived us. Ev-
ery action of a man is influenced by the opin-
on he entertains of his neighbours ; and in
this sense by abstainmg from judging them
we must cease to have any intercourse with
the world. The spirit of our Saviour's exhor-
tation, then, is not to abstain wholly from
judging others, but that in forming our opin-
ions we should be charitable and think no evil.

m9. SERMON XII.

Neither does this precept require us, in for-
ming our judgment, always to think well of
our neighbours. Shall we overstep those lim-
its which separate right and wrong ? If a man
appear in open day, clothed with his vices,
shall we suppose that virtue may wear such a
garb ? If he lakes the name of God in vain,
shall we not call him profane? If he be intem-
perate, shall we shut our eyes until we find
an interval of sobriety and call him sober? If
he ruin the innocent, if he defraud those who
trust in him, if he oppress those who depend
on him, and repulse with harshness the peti-
tion of the poor, shall we not call him cruel,
xmjust, insolent and worthless ?

There is room enough for charity, without
extending it to vice ; and our characters will
have but a poor title to indulgence if we have
no other than that we ourselves spare those
who openly violate the laws of morality and
good order. This precept was intended to pro-
mote peace among men, but not by reconci-
ling right and wrong, by destroying the only
foundation on which peace can be established.
Wo unto them who call evil good, and good
evil ; wo unto them who would separate in-
famy from vice — who smile at crimes, and
hold forth their right hand to wickedness.

SERMON Xn. 22^

The tendency of this precept then is to pre-
vent us from judging others in circumstances
where we are not competent to judge; and to
prevent us from judging unfavourably, unless
we have clear and decided reasons for so doing.
And how many considerations occur to en-
force this precept, ''Judge not, lest ye be jud-
ged."

1 . Consider the influence of men's own pas-
sions and feelings in preventing the judgments
they form of others. Were we to turn our eyes
to the darkest side of the picture which these
present we should perceive envy, jealousy, re-
sentment and party-spirit holding their noctur-
nal assemblies to sacrifice to malice and false-
hood the devoted characters of whomsoever
they meet. Who shall pass without danger
from the venom which they scatter, and who
knows the paths where invisble fiends haunt?
What shield can defend from the secret attacks
of an unseen foe ? While you wish thai you
yourselves may escape therh, beware lest you
be accessary to the mischief which they work.
They watch your steps ; they place a dagger
in your way, and filling you with false cla-
mours they urge you to throw it at the inno-
cent. Take not up the secret hints they drop;

nk SERMON XII.

listen not to their insinuations — shut your eyes
to their signs and your ears to their whispers.

Next to these appear the ill-natured, the pe-^
vish and the illiberal. At their tribunal tem-
per sits as judge, and a word, a look will con-
demn you. If a defect or an ofience appear,
to that their eyes are turned ; or if your mer-
its are regarded, it is with a frown that they
should be found in such company. If you
wish to escape their censure, you must think
as they think, you must speak as they speak,
you must look grave when they look grave.
Their minds resemble those barren and inhos-
pitable regions, overhung with a perpetual
gloom where no beauty or verdure appears,
where the sun never sheds his enlivening
beams.

But passing from these more flagrant breach-
es of candour and Christian charity which
thinketh no evil, we may sufficiently perceive
the influence of passion over the opinions of
mankind, in the common affairs of life, and
in characters who cannot justly be accused of
malice, falsehood and illiberality. How
much are men disposed to represent the char-
acter of another in that light in which they
wish to view it ? On one occasion,, they con-

SERMON XII. 225

jecture circumstances which they have not
seen, and which change a good action into a
bad one. On another, when an action ap-
pears at first sight improper, they catch at
what they see, and save themselves the trouble
of conjecture. When first appearances are
unfavourable, from these they, hastily, draw
their picture, giving it, from their own ima-
gination, colours so strong that nothing else
can be seen through them. When first ap-
pearances on the contrary are too favourable,
they search around, and, by a perverse in-
genuity, introduce into the back ground of
their picture such unpleasing objects as spoil
the beauty of what is better seen, and give to
the whole that disagreeable aspect they desire
it should wear. In this way there is no vir-
tue, there is no grace nor accomplishments
which a mind disordered by selfish feelings
will not divest of its true form, and represent
in a shape which may displease. If a man
be open and liberal, to such a mind lie seems
ostentatious, and to court popularity. If he
be sober, he appears unsocial ; if he be wiser
and more learned than they, he is assuming
and vain. To such a mind, justice w^ears
the form of harsh severity, and gentleness

VOL. II. G g

^26 SERMON XII.

seems to be a want of spirit ; prudence is trans*
formed into cunning or timid caution ; lib-
erality appears to be profusion, and the mosS
necessary economy is represented as penury.
When, therefore, my brethren, you judge
your neighbour, examine your own hearts.
Even in the mind of those who wish not to be
unjust, who are not without candour, injurious
prejudices arise. When you find fault with an-
other, beware that no interference of interest,
or rivalship in your pursuits, no difference of
opinion, and no feeling of resentment may
have produced, without your perceiving it, a
desire to find fault. W^ould you wish to enter-
tain a better opinion of him whom you blame ?
Is it with reluctance that you perceive his
faults? Put these questions to your own hearts,
and answer them sincerely. If it give you a
secret pleasure to censure, and if you would
be disappointed in finding your censures
groundless, distrust yourselves. Though these
feelings were not improper in themselves,
there is little doubt but they mislead you.
Receive not then a sentiment you have so
much reason to suspect, express it not to
others, let it not influence your conduct.
Banish the feelings from which it flowed. If

SERMON XII. 227

you regard vvliat is fair and what is just, pro-
ceed not to pass sentence of condemnation,
while you hold in your hand a bribe to con-
demn.

2. These sources of errour in judging our
neighbour, lie within our own breast. There
are others which lie without us of no less influ-
ence ; without attention to which the most im-
partial and candid will become unjust.

The laws of morality are fixed and immu-
table ; but the situations, the constitutions,
the temper, the education, and the pursuits of
men are infinitely various. Hence arises a
variety of character and a diversity of con-
duct among those who have the same rules to
guide them. The same things become not
the young and the old, the serious and the gay,
the rich and the poor. The man who has
had few opportunities of acquiring knowledge
cannot act with the skill and success of expe-
rience. If we confound these characters, and
judge them by a common law, how vague
and unjust will be ourjudgment ? Butin how
few instances are we qualified to discern the
true effect of circumstances like these, and
the various complexions which their differ-
ent combinations may give to the same con-

228 SERMON XII.

duct? Farther, on how many circumstances
does the degree of merit or criminahty of a
single action depend ? We are not merely to
inquire what an action is, and then say it is
right or wrong. We must hkewise examine
the principle and motives from which it flow-
ed, the difficulties and dangers to be encoun-
tered, the temptations to be resisted, and the
rewards to be gained. These are circumstan-
ces often concealed from every eye but the
eye of God, and a man's own conscience.
But when they are not known, is it a stretch
of good nature and indulgence, is it a hard
restraint on the freedom of opinion, to forbear
to condemn ? Or rather do not the soundest
and plainest principles of justice require us to
forbear ? The history of the world presents
many affecting instances of the reproach, suf-
ferings and misfortunes which the most virtu-
ous characters have endured from that propen-
sity which the greatest part of mankind have to
judge by appearances or events, while it has
often remained for a future generation to dis-
cover and do justice to their integrity. To
these,however, we need not recur. The recol-
lection of every man will furnish him with a
sufficient number of instances, in his own case

SERMON XII. 229

at least, in which his conduct was misunder-
stood, and in which he will not refuse to own
that men were rash in blaming him. Be not
guilty of an injustice towards others to which
you are so much exposed, and of which you
are so ready to complain. Even when the cen-
sures you pass on your neighbours happen to
be just, yet when they are not warranted by
your knowledge of his situation and conduct,
your rashness is no less criminal. But if
they are unjust, you are guilty of an injury
which receives its greatest aggravation from
that ignorance which in other cases may be
an excuse for him who offends.

3. Hitherto I have chiefly considered the
precept in the text as intended to prevent us
from blaming those who may not be deserving
of blame. But it goes farther than this, and
even where the most charitable indulgence
cannot make us blind to the faults of another,
it bids us judge them as becomes those who are
themselves conscious of errours and imperfec-
tions. Nor is it in this case founded on prin-
ciples less just. Even when you are guilty
of a folly which you are not disposed to ex-
cuse, would you bear to be upbraided and con-
demned by him who had an equal share in

230 SERMON XII.

your folly, while his censures fell on yo^
alone ? And does it alter the case that your
faults are not the same with those you per-
ceive in your neighbour ? Heaven alone
knows whose scale preponderates. You may
treat with severity the faults of others, while
you spare your own, but will this partiality ex-
lend beyond your own breasts ? Will God or
man judge you by other laws than those
which bind all ? Under the most proper sense
of those errours into which a man falls from
the imperfections of human nature, he feels
himself entitled to indulgence from those who
are subject to similar failings. He alone de-
prives himself of this title who allows it not
to another. If you have any delight in expo-
sing offences, it may not be difficult to disco-
ver and to drag forth an off'ender ; but let him
who is without sin among you throw the
first stone.

After all, let us beware of applying this
principle of charity to an improper use.
While you expect the charity of your breth-
ren with regard to those deviations from your
duty which are past, into which you were
led against your will, and wdiich you are de-
sirous for the future to avoid, you expect what

SERMON XIL 231

religion requires them to grant. But if you
claim their indulgence to evil habits, which
you wish not to forsake, promising in return a
similar indulgence to them, you abuse our
Saviour's precept, and convert it into a tolera-
tion for sin, placing charity, that virtue which
most distinguishes our religion, on this founda-
tion, that he who leaves the greatest number
behind him in the commission of wickedness
ought to possess it in the most extensive degree.
A truly good man will not be partial to a bad
action because he himself has committed it,
nor will he by claming such partiality from
others lay himself under an obligation to ap-
prove what is wrong in them. The object of
charity is to prevent us from makmg the im-
perfections of our brethren a reason for refusing
to do them good ; but it is not possible to do
them a greater injury than to encourage them
in sin.

4. Another consideration of great weight to
enforce the precept in the text, is that stated by
our Saviour: *' Judge not, that ye be not
** judged, for with what judgment ye judge
'* ye shall be judged." And there cannot be
a more just law either in the sight of God or
man. With regard to man, the experience gf

^32 SERMON XII.

the world has established it as a maxim, tha^
when one is rash in finding fault and, with-
out sufficient knowledge of the character and
actions he pretends tojudge, is prone to sup-
pose evil where there is room for supposing
good; when from doubtful appearances he al-
ways forms that opinion which is most unfa-
vourable, whence are we to think that this
propensity arises? The innocent, the sincere,
and the upright are not apt to suspect. 1 hey
often find their own conduct attended by im-
prudence or followed by ill consequences of
which they were not aware ; and neither from
appearances norconsequences do they perceive
just ground of thinking illof those to whom the
same thing may have happened. The secret of
those who possess so much ingenuity in finding
out the faults of others lies within their own
breast. But experience has discovered it, and
when we meet with such persons we transfer
their suspicions and their ill-natured remarks on
others to their own character. Who are most
ready to take offence if it be not those who
are most ready to give it? Who are they who
prey on the reputation of their neighbour, but
those who have lost their own? Who are the
suspicious, but those who have secrets in their

SERMON Xri. 233

dwn conduct? Who are the malicious and the
envious, who detract from the merit of others*
but those who have not merit enough to procure
the success which excites their resentment?
Such is the natural connection between a man's
own character and the opinion he is disposed
to form of others. The good alone ; conscious
of their own integrity, have the true principle
of candour in their breast. Prudence therefore
enjoins that we should not be rash in forming
unfavourable opinions of others ; for in so do-
ing we condemn ourselves, or enable others
to detect our wickedness.

With regard to God, the consideration which
we are now illustrating is much more power*
ful. The person who judges, and he who is
judged are both equally seen by him. He
needs not to look for our character and our
deeds in the opinions we form of others. He
is our witness; and whatever we may do to
our brethren, he will impute to us no crimes
of which we have not been guilty. But for
our want of charity, for our hard suspicions,
and our severe censures, he will judge us on
their own account. And with w^hat peculiar
aggravations will they appear in the sight of
that being to whom tlie most secret faults of

VOL. TT, H h

234 SERMON XII.

our own hearts lie open ? Ye who judge your
neighbours, Hft up your eyes to your common
judge, beholding the secrets of your own soul.
Turn them inwards on yourselves. With the
impressions which you now feel, stand up,
call your neighbour before your tribunal, put
on your dignity, your penetration, and your
severity, and say unto him, **Thou sinful man,
'^ thou offender of God, I condemn thee;**
heaven frowns at your presumption, and your
own crimes assume a deeper dye.

When God shall judge us all, folly will
weigh less against usinthescale than 111-willand
resentment; imprudence will not prove so hea-
vy as calumny; nor will the frailties of huma-
nity appear so criminal as that evil imagination
which delighted to magnify them. And what
shall the uncharitable man answer if God
should say to him in the final settlement of cha-
racters and rewards, '^Thou didst look with a
*' severe eye on the faults of thy brother; shall
" I pass over thine, or shall thy unkindness
'* lessen them? Thou didst impute to him of-
'* fences which he meant not and committed
" not: shall I overlook those which I saw, and
'* of which thou thyself art conscious. Thyun-
** just and harsh censures made the innocent

SERMON XII. o^

*^ to suffer pain ; what shall be done to thee,
*' ihou false tongue? With what judgment
'* thou didst judge, shall I not judge thee;
" and with what measure thou didst mete,
^' shall it not be meted to thee again ?*'

5 . I shall only add one other motive to deter
us from judging our neighbour; addressed not
so much to the malicious and uncharitable, as
to the generous and well-meanmg who form
unfavourable opinions of others chiefly from
rashness and inattention. When you lift up your
voice against another without sufficient know-
ledge of his conduct, even when appearances
may give some countenance to your reprehen-
sions, it is not improbable they may be ground-
less. Of what wrongs may you not thus be-
come the authour; agamst which the person
you injure, will be less prepared to guard,
the more innocent he is? To him who wishes
to deserve the good opinion of the world, you
may thus occasion the most discouraging of all
mortifications. Of every advantage which de-
pends on a good name, you may deprive him.
You may be thus led to treat with unkindness
those who merit favour. You may throw ob-
stacles in the way of the most deserving and
hurt the most tender feelings of a good man's
heart.

236 SERMON XH.

To prevent you from following the practice
of such evil, in addition to the other conside-
rations already stated, we may observe, that,
he alone is entitled to sport thus at random
with the character of others, who would him-
self feel no pain from any injuries his own
might receive ; who could behold with indif-
ference the suffering and distress which he
occasioned; and whose condemnation could
not be aggravated by being judged as he
judged his neighbour. If this be a character
which you justly abhor, and the imputation
of which you would reject with indignation — -
ihei) judge not, that ye be not judged.

257

SERMON XIII.

PART I.

On the divine origin of the Christian religion.

Acts, Chap. 5, Verse 38, 39.

^ Refrain from these men, and let them alone ; for if this
eouncil, or this work be of men, it will come to nought.
But if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it j lest haply y^
be found even to fight against God."

This was the sage advice of Gamaliel, a doc-
tor of the law, and a man of great reputation,
to the Jewish council, who were assembled to
concert measures for suppressing the new re-
ligion then beginning to be preached by the
Apostles. The object of this advice is to dis-
suade the Jews from doing any thing to in-
jure the Apostles or to suppress the publica-
tion of their opinions. For if that system
which they taught with so much boldness
and diligence was merely an imposition^evi-

ci^S SERMON XIII.

sed by themselves, and calculated to answer
worldly purposes, it would, like some other
pretended revelations which Gamaliel men-
tions, be discovered, and, without any effort
on the part of the Jews, would sink and come
to nought. On the other hand, if it really
was, what its friends pretended, a scheme of
religion derived from God, containing suffi-
cient evidence of its divine origin, and suppor-
ted by the power of the Almighty, it was vain
for them to oppose it ; in spite of all their ef-
forts it would prevail, and they would only add
to their own guilt by plotting against the Lord
and his anointed. The natural inference
from which is, that, if it did succeed it was
not of man but of God ; and thus the success
of the gospel, and even its very existence in
the world, is an irrefragable evidence of its
truth.

It must be confessed, that, success, abstract-
ly speaking, is no certain proof of the excel-
lence of any opinion. Errour and wicked-
ness have been more prevalent, and have met
with a more welcome reception, than even
Jiruth and virtue. Neither is the rapid and
extensive propagation of a religion, in itself,
a decisive proof of the divinity of its origin.

SERMON XIII. 239

The Mahometan foith was as widely and in-
stantaneously spread through the world as
the Christian; and even to this day occupies a
larger and more populous portion of the earth.
But all we can infer from this is, that the
means were adequate to the end ; the cause
sufficient to produce the effect. And in the
instance mentioned this sufficiency is very
apparent. While Mahomet displayed the
Koran in one hand he held the sword in the
other ; and it is no wonder that a religion sup-
ported by such powerful arguments should
meet with success. The vices which it al-
lowed, and the sensual paradise which it pro^
mised to its votaries were well calculated to
gain the approbation of an effeminate and lux-
urious people. The period of its introduction,
was distinguished by the immoral lives and in-
ternal divisions of the Christians. Its propa-
gators were learned as well as brave, and re-
commended by their talents what they defend-
ed by their swords. In short the rejection of
the Koran would have been more wonderful
than its general reception.

But m the case of Christianity, success is a
sufficient proof of its authenticity ; for no ex-
ternal causes did exist adequate to the effect.

240 SERMON XIIL

In the most enlightened and inquisitive age in
which the human race had yet been found to
exist, twelve poor, simple, and illiterate fisher-
men issue forth from the land of Judea, at
that time an inconsiderable province of the
Roman empire, to teach a new system of re-
ligion, in the name of Jesus of Nazareth ; a
man of obscure rank and station in life, whom
his own countrymen had taken as a criminal
and hanged on a tree ; to teach a religion
which had to combat the interest of priests
and rulers, the science of the wise and learned
the deep-rooted prejudices and immoral lives
of the vulgar ; a religion whose rewards were
confined to another state of being, and offered
nothing at present to its disciples, but dangers
and persecution. And yet so mightily did the
word of God grow and prevail, that this reli-
gion, without friends, without force, without
fraud, had in less than half a century ranked
among its proselytes the greater part of the im-
mense empire of Rome, and was moreover
known where the name of Rome had been
never heard, where the day of science and
civilization had never dawned, among na-
tions of discordant tongues, governments and
religions. In all this there is evidently some-

SERMON Xlir. 24)

thing more than human. The only inference
we can draw is, either, that, the religion of
Jesus is in itself so excellent and supported by
such indisputable evidence as to conquer by
the force of truth, or that it was protected and
carried forward by the invisible aids of the
Holy Spirit, and over-ruling providence of its
great authour, whose character authorizes us
to infer that he will not countenance and sup-
port an imposture.

All this appears to be naturally inferred from
the words of the text, but to prove and illus-
trate this point more fully, the following ob-
servations will contribute ; which though
some may deem unnecessary, because most of
you entertain no doubt of the truth of your
religion, will at least have these good effects.
By impressing the truth of your religion more
deeply on your minds, they will lead you
the more to reverence its doctrines and pre-
cepts. It will console every man to know
that the religion whereon the foundation of
all his hopes is built is not a cunningly devi-
sed fable which the prejudices of custom and
education have taught him to receive and re-
vere, but may be defended by reasoning and
argument, and is indeed the wisdom and tjie

VOL, IT. J i

242 SERMON XIII.

power of God. In short, it will prove an an-
tidote to that poisonous system of infidelity
and atheism, which some men in all ages
have endeavoured to spread by argument and
ridicule, but which in the present age is pro-
pagated by much more forcible weapons,
those too of a carnal nature*.

First, then, when the gospel was proposed
to mankind, they were not without religion,
as was the case when the different forms of
the heathen system were introduced. I
mention this to shew that the ready reception
which Christianity met with in all countries,
did not proceed from its being the first religion
offered to the world ; so that the passion for
religion natural to the human mind, having
no other object, led men to adopt this form in
place of a better, and almost without examin-
ation. In every country, there was already a
religion established by law, patronised by the
rulers, and practised by the people. And
what was still more unfavourable to the pro-
gress of Christianity, the heathen religions
were in most places excellently adapted to the
taste of the vulgar, by the magnificence of
their temples, and the splendour of their cere-

• * Macknight's Harmony.

SERMON XIII. U^

monies. The Jewish rehgion possessed the
same advantages; and, besides this, really en-
joyed the honour which all the rest falsely
claimed, of being a revelation from heaven.
Moreover in heathenism there was nothing
which could have the least influence to pre-
pare the minds of its votaries for the recep-
tion of the gospel ; but rather every thing to
ahenate them from it. For it is well known
that there was the most direct opposition be-
tween all the different forms of the heathen
religion and the gospel. Judaism indeed
ought to have paved the way for the introduc-
tion of Christianity, for which it was intended
as a preparatory dispensation, but, through
the wickedness of the Jews, it proved other-
wise. For the decendants of Abraham, being
prepossessed with the belief of the eternal
obligation of the Mosaick institutions, were fil-
led with violent enmity to the gospel, which
taught the abrogation of the law. It is evident,
therefore, from the nature of things that the
introduction of the gospel upon the ruins of
the established religion, must in all countries
have been effected in opposition to the sword
of the magistrate, the craft of priests, the pride
of philosophers, the passions, humours and

244 SERMON XIII.

prejudices of the people, as well as the inter-
est of many of them whose trades and profes-
sions, like the goldsmiths at Ephesus, depended
upon the continuance of the ancient supersti-
tion, all closely combined in support of the
national worship, and in opposition to that new
system which aimed at nothing less than the
total subversion of the old.

It farther deserves attention, that, in the con-
version of the world to Christianity, the me-
thods whereby absurd systems have sometimes
been successfully established, were not used.
For the life and doctrines of Christ was not a
story privately whispered among the Christians
themselves, or communicated only to the few
who were disposed to be of their party. It
was not propagated in the dark, by people who
stole about from house to house, with an inten-
tion to deceive the credulous. It was not de-
livered out by parcels, the first of which being
tolerable palatable, paved the way for one
more absurd and extravagant to follow. It did
not insinuate itself into the belief of mankind
by slow and insensible steps. These are the
arts whereby the forgeries of impostors have
crept into the world, and systems of errour have
at length become to be believed, which if of-

SERMON Xlir. 245

fered openly and all at once would have been
rejected with abhorrence as monstrous. But,
instead of this, the history of Jesus and the most
offensive doctrines of Christianity were preached
publicly in Jerusalem, the scene of these won-
derful transactions, in the synagogues, in the
streets, in the temple itself, and even before the
representatives of the Jewish nation in council
assembled. It was soon afterwards preached
in the same publick and open manner through
all the regions of heathenism. At the dis-
courses of the Apostles, and the meetings of
the disciples, every one who chose might be
present. The history and doctrines there
advanced were proposed in their true, native
colours, without any softening or disguise.
They were proposed, also, all at once ; at least
all the essential articles of the gospel, which
however disagreeable to the passions or preju-
dices of men, were delivered by the Apostles
with the greatest openness in every sermon.
As a proof of all this we may appeal to those
candid and undaunted discourses of St. Peter
and St. Paul, which are recorded in the Acts
of the Apostles: and with still greater evidence
to the publication and dispersion of the books
of the Evangelists, and the Epistles which

i46 SERMON XIII.

contain the whole of Christianity, and were
offered entire in the first age of its progress to
the world as we now have them. It is there-
fore indubitable that all who anciently embra-
ced Christianity, had an opportunity of exam-
ing the whole scheme before they formed the
resolution of becoming the disciples of Jesus.
Ko one was cheated into this belief by any
artful dealing of the first preachers of the gos-
pel.

There is a third circumstance which with
judicious persons will render the conversion of
the world to Christianity a most striking proof
that our religion is from God, namely, that the
belief of the doctrine and miracles of Jesus>
which in so short a time became general
through the world, began in the country
whicli had been the scene of his ministry, and
particularly in the capital city, vvhere he had
been publicly tried, condemned, and put to
death, by the senate of Israel, as a deceiver.
For, on the fiftieth day after his crucifixion,
there were no less than three thousand con-
verted in Jerusalem by a single sermon of one
of the Apostles, who insisted upon the mira-
cles performed by Jesus as things well known
to all present, a topick which the Apostles in

SERMON XIII. ^J47

every sermon failed not to urge. A few weeks
after this, five thousand who believed are said
to have been present at another sermon preach-
ed by the same Apostle. In the second year
after our Lord's ascension the number of the
disciples multiplied greatly, and a great com-
pany of the priests, who had always been the
most violent opposers of the new religion, be-
came obedient to the faith. In the third year
they multiplied so exceedingly that there was
a great persecution against the church which
was at Jerusalem, and they were all except
the Apostles scattered abroad throughout the
region of Judea and Samaria. In the third or
fourth year, the spreading of the Christian faith
was so remarkable, even in the remotest pro-
vinces of Palestine, that the high priest and
council of Jerusalem, in order to put a stop to
it, sent forth persecutors as far as Damascus.
Of these the leader was a zealous young man
named Saul, who in this very journey was
converted by Jesus appearing to him at noon-
day. About eight or ten years after our Sa-
viour's death, the disciples were grown so nu-
merous in Jerusalem and the country about,
that they became the object of jealousy to
Herod himself. For, at the instigation of the

S48 SERMON XIH.

priests, he carried on the persecution against
them, by putting to death one Apostle, and
imprisoning another, whom he intended also
to slay. •

This wonderful success of the gospel in its
native country must tend greatly to convince
us of its divinity. For if the things therein
told had been false, would such numbers upon
the spot where they were said to be done and
at the very time at which they happened
have given such credit to them, as on their
account to have exposed themselves to the
most grievous persecution.

But the success of the gospel was by no
means confined to Judca. Being preached
in all the different provinces of the Roman
empire, numbers of heathens as well as Jews
were converted to the faith. A clear proof
that the Christian system was not a fabri-
cation by the Jews, invented with a design to
raise their nation to its pristine grandeur, but
contained such evidence of its divine origin as
failed not to make an impression on those to
whom it was proposed, of whatever nation or
tongue. The conversion of the gentiles is so
much the more remarkable that almost the
very first triumph of the Christian religion

SERMON XIII. 249

were in Greece itself, the seat of learning and
the polite arts. We learn from the Acts of the
Apostles and St. Paul's Epistles, that churches
were very early planted in most of its princi-
pal cities. Even all -conquering Rome, the
seat of wealth and empire, was herself con*
quered by the force of truth. Many of her
inhabitants embraced the Christian faith, as
early as in the reigns of Claudius and Nero ;
and but a few years after the crucifixion of
our Lord, when the matters told concerning
him were recent, and it was easy to have
disproved them, if they had been false, by
many witnesses from Judea, both Jews and
Gentiles, who continually resorted to Rome,
either for business or pleasure, and by the
constant communication which subsisted be-
tween the capital, and all the provinces of the
empire.

This leads me to observe that the remarkable
success of the gospel did not happen in a dark
age or among a rude people, but in an age
justly celebrated for the height to which learn-
ing and the polite arts were carried ; and
among the Greeks and Romans, the renowned
masters of the sciences. In most countries, at
this era, knowledge was more widely diffused

VOL. II. K k

UO SERMON XIII.

And society more civilized than they had been
at any former period. Besides, the world un-
der the protection of the Roman government
enjoying at this time profound peace, men of
a speculative turn were every were at leisure
to examine the matter with care, and as the
different nations of the world were now uni-
ted under one head, they had easy commu-
nication with one another and with the city of
Rome, the centre of intelligence and corres-
pondence. It is therefore undeniable, that,
when the gospel was first proposed, all ranks
of men in all countries were as well secured
as possible from being imposed upon by false
pretences of any kind, and the gospel would
not probably be adopted before it was duly
considered.

It must indeed be confessed that the first pro-
selytes to Christianity were not in general the
most enlightened and inquisitive of their age,
but, on the contrary, mean, simple men who had
more veracity and integrity than understan-
ding, who were more ingenuous than learned.
This circumstance, though at first it may seem
dishonourable to the Christian cause, will, upon
mature reflection, add greatly to the evidence
of its truth, Jesus himself rejoiced in it, and

SERMON Xlil. 251

more than once solemnly returned thanks foi*
it. '' At that tune Jesus rejoiced in spirit, and
'' said, I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven
'* and earth, that thou hast hid these things
'' from the wise and prudent and revealed
*' them unto babes. Even so. Father, for so it
*' seemed good in thy sight.'' The Apostle
Paul gloried in the mean condition of the first
converts. *' You see your calling, brethren,
'' said he, how that not many wise men after
'* the flesh are called. But God has chosen
** the foolish things of this world to confound
'' the wise, and God has chosen the weak
*' things of the world to confound the things
*' which are mighty ; and base things of the
*' world and things which are despised hath
'' God chosen, yea and things which are not
'' to bring to nought things which are ; that
'' no flesh should glory in his- presence."
Our Lord and his Apostles thus rejoice in the
conversion of the people, because they know
this circumstance above all others would prove
the truth of their doctrine. The prejudices
and attachment of mankind to old opinions
have always been found to bear a proportion
to their ignorance. The bulk of mankind arc
every where incapable of comprehending a

252 SERMON XIII.

train of reasoning, and cannot easily be per-
suaded to change the principles in which they
have been educated even by the most conclu-
sive arguments. Since, therefore, such num-
bers were converted to Christianity, it could
not have been by artful reasoning, but by
some striking miracles which made a deep im-
pression on their senses ; and by a power
much more irresistible than that of cool argu-
ment, surmounted all the obstacles which su-
perstition, custom and education had thrown
in the way of their conversion. The same cir-
cumstance is a clear proof that men were not
compelled to adopt the religion of Jesus, by the
secular power; were not seduced by the influ-
ence and example of the great ; were not en-
couraged by any prospect of profit or honour
to enter into a society the greater part of whose
members were poor ignorant men, less likely
to be of advantage to those who might adhere
to them than to bring them into trouble and dis-
grace. ** Is not this the Carpenter's son ?'*
did they impiously say of the Saviour him-
self: '' are not these of the sect of the Naza-
'^ renes?'* did they contemptuously ask con-
cerning his followers. And most certainly no
siian would expose himself to the reproach

SERMON XIII. Q53

brought by such association unlessthe evidence
of the gospel itself, or the powerful operations
of the Spirit of God, had produced in his mind
the most undoubted conviction of its truth.

But though the generality of the first con-
verts to Christianity in all countries were peo-
ple in the middle and lower stations of hfe, it
ought not to be forgotten that from the very
beginnmg there were not wanting men of birth,
education, talents, and fortune, whose conver-
sion added both lustre and dignity to the
gospel triumphs. Among the Jews, we may
mention Nicodemus, one of the rulers; Joseph
of Arimathea, a member of the senate of Is-
rael; the great company of priests mentioned
in the Acts of the Apostles, whose office and
literature rendered them conspicious ; and
above all the celebrated Apostle of the Gen-
tiles, St. Paul, whose attachment to the wor-
ship of his father was originally so deep-rooted,
and whose excellent education, extensive
learning, and unrivalled eloquence appear in
all his discourses, and are the admiration even
of infidels themselves. The sacred and pro-
fane writers supply us with a numerous cata-
logue of princes, magistrates and philosophers,
who became converts to the gospel long be-

254 SERMON xrir.

fore it was the religion of the empire of Rome
or was supported by the arm of power. For
in process of time it became so that it was not
a single person of figure in this city, or in
that nation, who obeyed the gospel, but mul-
titiides of the wise, the learned, the noble and
the mighty in every country. These being
all fully convinced of the truth of our Lord's
pretensions, and deeply impressed with a
sense of his dignity, gave the most solid proof
of their conviction, and consequently of the
truth of Christianity, by worshipping as a God
one whom his countrymen had condemned as a
malefactor; by forsaking the religion wherein
they had been bred, a religion well suited to
their inclinations and passions, and embracing
one whereby they could gain neither honour
nor profit, but on the contrary, much suffering
and disgrace. In short, the religion was
of God, and with his aid, it could not fail to
make its way in the world.

SERMON XIV.

PART II

On the divine origin of the Christian religion.

" Refrain from these men, and let them alone ; for if this
council, or this work be of men, it will come to nought.
But if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it; lest haply ye be
found even to fight against God."

I FORMERLY read these words with a design
to impress on your minds a sense of the truth of
your religion, and consequently a regard for
the doctrines and precepts which it contains :
and I proposed to show, as a natural inference
from this advice, and I may also say predic-
tion of Gamaliel, that the great success of the
gospel in the first ages, and its existence at
this very day, are undoubted proofs of its di-
vine origin.

It is evident from the great multitude of
converts to Christianity in the first ages, that it

9.56 SERMON XIV.

must either contain irresistible evidence of its
being from God, or the invisible and effectual
power of the Almighty must have accompanied
the preaching of the Apostles. No other
causes, at least, can be discovered sufficient
to produce the effect. On the contrary, every
thing conspired to prevent the success of the
gospel. The Christian religion was opposed
by the sword of the magistrate, the craft of
the priests, the pride of the philosophers,
and the passions and prejudices of the Jew
and Gentile.

This religion was not propagated in the
dark, nor delivered out in parcels, according
to the usual method in which impostures are
made to succeed ; but was fully laid before
men all at once, that they might judge of the
whole under one view. Mankind, then,
were not cheated into the belief of it, but re-
ceived it upon due examination and convic-
tion. The gospel was first preached and be-
lieved by multitudes in Judea, where Jesus
exercised his ministry, and where every indi-
vidual had full opportunity of knowing whe-
ther the thing told of him were true or not.
In this country, surely^ his history never would
have been received, unless the facts alleged

SERMON XIV. 26?

In it could have stood the test of examina-
tion. Moreover, the rcHgion of Jesus was
preached and helieved in the most renowned
countries and cities of the world, and in an age
when a spirit of inquiry universally prevailed,
and the faculties of men were improved by
the most perfect state of social life. In such
an age as this, it would have been very impo-
litick for a deceiver and impostor to have made
his appearance. The first converts, it is true,
were, in general, men of middle and inferiour
stations ; but even these, in an age of such
knowledge and intercourse, were sufficiently
secured against false pretensions. Or if yoii
suppose their minds not to have been suffi-
ciently informed with knowledge, you should
consider that in proportion to their ignorance,
their attachment to their first religious princi-
ples would be strong ; and that to bring men of
such characters to change their principles no-
thing less than infinite power or evident mira-
cles are adequate. These were the ideas
which engaged our attention when I last dis-
coursed to you.

I now proceed to observe, what seems high-
ly worthy of attention, that the belief of
Christianity was attended with no worldly ad-

VOL. II. L 1

2o8 SERMON XIV.

vantage, which might induce men to renounce
their native rehgions and embrace a form of
worship so very different from every thing
then practised. On the contrary, by becom-
ing Christians they denied themselves many
sensual gratifications which their own religions
indulged them in ; they subjected themselves
to a course of life rigid and severe, very dif-
ferent from that to which they had been ac-
customed, and which is so agreeable to the
flesh. For at their baptism, or admission into
the Christian society, they bound themselves
to renounce the w^orld with its pleasures, as a
sacrifice necessary in such times of persecu-
tion, and to mortify the strongest inclinations
of their nature. By renouncing the religion
of their country, they lost the affections of
their relatives, separated themselves from their
acquaintance, forfeited the enjoyments of
private and social life, estranged themselves
from their friends, and banished themselves
from their families. Nor was this all ; by em-
bracing the gospel, they exposed themselves
to still more terrible and positive evils. From
the very beginning, the profession of Christi-
anity was attended with the continual hazard
of all manner of personal sufferings ; and in
proportion as this religion spread itself, the

SERMON XIY. ^59

^vils accompanying the profession thereof
muhiphcd. Nor is this wonderful; if they
did such things to the niastcrof the household,
what could the servants expect? The profane
and ecclesiastical historians tell us of ten furious
persecutions carried on against the Christians
in the early ages of the gospel, to compel them
to relinquish their faith, in which they endu-
red every species of torture and suffering which
rage, cruelty and superstition could invent.
St» Paul has given us such a description of them
as must shock the feelings of every man of
feeling and humanity. The primitive Chris-
tians, instead of sitting under their own vine
and their own fig tree, as wc do, without any
to make us afraid, ** had trial of cruel mock-
^' ings and scourgings, yea moreover of bonds
'* and imprisonment. They were stoned, they
*' were sawn asunder, were tempted, were
*' slain with the sword: they wandered about
*' in sheep-skins and goat-skins, being desti-
*' tute, afflicted, tormented. They. wandered
'* in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens
*' and caves of the earth." Powerful induce-
ments these to embrace a system of which they
were the inevitable consequence ! Nothing
but over-bearing evidence, evidence such as

^60 SERMON XIV.

they could not by any means resist, was able to
make men in those circumstances receive a re-
ligion which plunged them into such terrible
misfortunes.

We may add, as connected with this part of
the subject,jthat the constancy, firmness and pa-
tience displayed by the primitive martyrs, who
submitted to such cruel sufferings rather than
renounce their religion or blasphejLne their
Saviour, could not be the effect of human
strength, but must have been produced by su-
pernatural aid. Without such aid, the trials
to which they were exposed were sufficient to
overbear duty, reason, faith, conviction, nay
and the most absolute certainty of a future
state. It is natural to man to wish to be deli-
vered from pain ; and when they could have
been so even by mental reservation, or any
hypocrisy which was not without the possibili-
ty of being followed by repentance and for-
giveness, we must conclude that those who
preferred the reproach of Christ, and rejoiced
that they were counted worthy to suflter for his
namesake, must have been supported by some
miraculous power. We know that St. Ste-
phen, the first martyr for Christianity, was en-
couraged, in his last moments, by a vision of

SERMON XIV. «61

that divine person for whom he suffered, and
into whose presence he was then hastening.
Let any man lay his hand cahiily upon his
heart, after reading those terrible conflicts in
which the ancient martyrs and confessors were
engaged, when they passed through such new
inventions and varieties of pain as tired their
tormentors; and let him ask himself, however
zealous and sincere in his religion he may be,
whether under such acute and lingering tor-
tures, he could still have held fast his integri-
ty and have professed his faith to the last, with-
out supernatural assistance of some kind or
other ? When we consider that it was not an
unaccountable obstinacy in a single man, or in
any particular set of men, in an extraordinary
juncture ; but that there were multitudes of
every age and sex, of different countries and
conditions, who for near three hundred years
together made this glorious profession of their
faith in the midst of tortures and in the hour
death, we must conclude, that, they were
either of a different constitution from the pre-
sent race of men, or that they had miraculou-
support peculiar to those times of Christianity,
without which perhaps the very name of it
might have been extinguished.

m SERMON XIV.

But farther, it is worthy of consideration
that those who became converts to the gospel
were not induced to do so by the force of arms,
the influence of authority, the refinements of
policy, or the power of great examples. They
were prevailed upon to change their faith,
merely by the preaching of a few illiterate
mechanicks or fishermen, who were wholly
destitute of the advantages of birth, education
or fortune, and who, by condemning the es-
tablished worship of all countries, were every
where looked upon as the most flagitious of
men. A particular stress has been laid upon
this argument by our Lord and his Apostles.
They direct us to consider the illiterate char-
acter and low station of the first preachers
of the gospel, as a proof that, in the conversion
of the world, they acted by the power of
truth, and with the assistance of God. ** We
** have this treasure in earthen vessels, says St.
" Paul, that the excellency of the power may
" be of God and not of us/* But the force of
this argument will best appear, if we consider
the conversion of the work, first, simply as an
event implying a change of men's religious
principles, and secondly, as attended with a
thorough reformation of their mannei-s.

SERMON XIV. 263

First, the conversion of the world, consider-
ed as a change of men's religious principles^
effected merely by the power of persuasion,
supposes that every convert was convinced of
the absurdity of his former faith, and brought
to see that the religion now offered to him was
rational and well founded. But this was a
task too arduous for the weak instruments
employed ; for unless they were assisted by
God, they had the prodigious labour to under-
go oflearning the languages of all the nations,
whether barbarous or civilized, to which they
went, before they could discourse to them^
either of the ancient belief, or of the new
faith which they came to offer to them.
This itself was an obstacle which must have
absolutely marred their design ; and therefore
this single consideration demonstrates, that, in
prevailing with multitudes in all countries to
change their religious belief, the Apostles
were inspired by God with the gift of tongues
as the gospel records affirm » Allowing, how-
ever, that by any means you please to fancy
these men attained the knowledge of all the
languages in such perfection, that they
could speak them fluently ; yet to mstil know-
ledge effectually into the minds of the people

1^64 SERMON XIV.

was a werk of immense labour, requiring fre-
quent and particular application to each indi-
vidual. If so, how can we suppose twelve
men sufficient for the conversion of nations !
Were they capable of addressing alj the in-
dividuals of those vast multitudes, who in the
diiFerent countries of Europe, Asia and Africa
were brought to serve the living God by their
ministry ? No, such particular addresses were
impossible ; and therefore the conversion of
the Gentiles could not be produced by them.
An event so stupendous must have been ac-
complished by means more effectual ; means
capable of swaying great numbers at once ;
namely undeniable miracles wrought openly
in proof of the doctrines which the Apostles
taught. Indeed the natural means of argu-
ment and persuasion must have been alto-
gether inadequate to the effect. Mankind
were too much attached to their religions to
relinquish them upon the first ofier of a new
faith. This was the case not only with the
Jews, but with all the idolatrous nations, to
whom the Apostles offered the doctrines of the
gospel. The religions in the belief of which
they were educated, were considered by them
as of divine authority. Besides, these religions

SERMON XVI. 26J

conspired with their passions, were connected
with their Interest, and they were conlirmcd
in the belief ot' them by the influence oi" au-
thority and example. The religions of the
learned were nothing but the systems of philo-
sophy which they adopted. The peculiar
tenets of these systems, they adopted with
the same strength of faith wherewith Chris-
tians now-a-days embrace their several creeds
and confessions, and they defended them
with the same intemperate warmth. Here
then were obstacles which the Apostles
were, of themselves, too weak to surmount.
The ignorant would not attend to discourses
which flatly contradicted their favourite no-
tions, and robbed them of their pleasures :
the philosophers would detest a religion
which overturned their several systems at
once, discovered their ignorance, mortified
their pride, and ruined their credit. Certain,
therefore, it is that the sermons of the Apostles,
which made the heathens renounce their reli-
gion, must have been accompanied with a di-
vine power before which all opposition van-
ished. Such is the declaration of St. Paul;
" The weapons of our warfare are not carnal
*' but mighty through God to the pulling down
VOL. It. M m

^266 SERMON XIV.

*' of strongs holds. Casting down imagina-
*' lions and every high thing that exalteth it-
*' self against the knowledge of God, and
'* bringing into captivity every thought to the
** obedience of Christ.'*

Secondly, the conversion of the world being
attended with a thorough reformation of man-
ners in the heathens who obeyed the gospel, is
likewise a demonstration that in spreading
Christianity the Apostles were expressly assisted
by God. To persuade the wicked to amend
their lives, included many impossibilities.
The manners of men in those days were be-
yond measure corrupt. The picture which
the Apostle Paul has drawn of them in the
first chapter of his Epistle to the Romans,
however shocking, is but too just. The vices
to which they were addicted were the effects
of lusts and passions rendered unconquerable
by long habits of indulgence. In the com-
mission of many acts of wickedness they were
authorized by the laws and discipline of their
country. Some of the most pernicious vices
were permitted them by the opinion of their
philosophers. To persuade great numbers of
mankind in such circumstances, to forsake
their vices, that is, to act contrary to nature, to

SERMON XIV. i?67

habit, to example, to interest, and to pleasure,
what human eloquence was sufficient? Or if
himian eloquence were sufficient to persuade
them, whence, I pray, were the converts
to derive tlie power of thoroughly changing, or
at least of subduing their passions, or of altering
the whole bent and current of their nature ?
Whence the power of becoming pious, just,
charitable, chaste, temperate, meek, humble,
heavenly-minded, amid an infinity of power-
ful temptations; and after having been unjust,
uncharitable, intemperate, proud and worldly-
minded to a high degree ? The heathen con-
verts themselves looked upon the sudden and
surprising change of manners, wrought on
thousands of the most profligate, as something
miraculous. By the consent, therefore, of all
prudent men, it were ridiculous to the last de-
gree, to suppose that tlie Apostles, by means
merely human, produced this great change in
the manners of multitudes, formerly enslaved
to their lusts, and sold under sin.

There is another fact, which, were it not
more immediately connected with a subject
foreign in some degree from this, would deserve
attention in the present question, namely, that
the wonderful success of the gospel was an

268 SERMON XIV.

event predicted long before it happened, and'
at a time when it was of all things the most
improbable.

But the last observation I shall make on this
subject, is that our religion has subsisted during
the long period of almost eighteen centuries
in full vigour, though its enemies have stren-
uously attacked it both by argument and arms.
Many errours have been propagated in the
world, some in one way and some in another:
but after due inquiry and examination they
have been detected, they have come to nought
and their followers have disappeared. What
a glorious triumph for the cause of Christianity
which has stood the test of ages and been found
sufficient. In its infancy, while it enjoyed no
protection from the magistrate, all men where
allowed and even encouraged to argue against
it with boldness. In free countries, even
where Christianity is the law of the state, the
same liberty is allowed ; and every advantage
has been taken of this indulgence. For no
method of overthrowing the gospel has been
forgotten. Both argument and ridicule have
been employed . Its nature and evidence have
been sifted to the bottom. But, thanks to the
goodnessof the cause, it has still kept its ground,
and has at all times displayed a peculiar and

SERMON XIV. 269

divine strength derived from its being built on
the rock of ages against which the gates of
hell shall not prevail. In a word, it is of God
and nothing can overthrow it.

The greatest difficulty on this subject arises
from that wonderful defection from the gos-
pel which happened after the publication of
Mahomet's doctrine to the world. This is in-
deed one of the darkest secrets of divine pro-
vidence. But the causes that contributed to
produce this great revolution are manifest.
They were plainly the vices and discords of
the Christians of those times, who thereby
gave the enemies of our faith courage to at-
tack it, put weapons into their hands, and fur-
nished them with every manner of advantage.
Christ came into the world, with the design
to subdue the power and destroy the 'king-
dom of Satan. He displayed the banner of
his cross, and summoned all nations to repair
to it; who accordingly obeyed the signal.
But while the extremest parts of the earth
were meditating a submission, while his great-
est enemies were hastening to put their necks
under his feet, a stop was put to their inten-
tions and his triumphs by the mutinies and
desertions of his own soldiers. Who can suffi-

no SERMON XLV.

ciently deplore the guilt and detest the evil
influence of those vices v^^hich wrested so ma-
ny kingdoms at once from the empire of
Christ? They not only arrested his doctrine
in its full course, and said to it hitherto shalt
thou come and no farther, but made the sun
of righteousness go backward as it were ma-
ny degrees, and leave countries under gross
darkness which had once been enlightened
by the saving truths of the gospel.

Many princes since this period, with more
piety than discretion, have made attempts to
regain, by force of arms, that ground which
Christianity lost, and, by their sword to plant
anew their faith in those places where it once
had possession. Such misguided zealots seem
always to have forgotten the advice of our
Saviour to St. Peter upon a similar occasion,
put up thy sword into the sheath. This great
work is not to be accomplished by crusades
and holy wars, but by conflicts of another
kind, which we must maintain with our own
corrupt habits and vicious inclinations ; not
by foreign acquisitions, but by domestick
victories over those impieties of Christians,
which give the enemies of the gospel such
advantages over it. For though the kingdom

SERMON XIV. ^271

of heaven suffers violence, and the violent
take it by force, yet the weapons of our ware-
fare are not carnal but spiritual. When the
conversations of those who bear the name of
Christ, become agreeable to the purity of his
doctrine ; when the divisions of Christendom
are healed, and the professors of our holy faith
live together like men of one mind in one
house, then and not till then shall the scep-
tre of Christ's kingdom extend itself to ail the
unconverted parts of the earth.

That God, ere the day of final retribution
will bring this about, the scripture expressly
assures us ; but of the particular time, at which
he will effect it, we know no more than when
he will come to judgment. However, let
us all, as far as lies in our power, contribute
to this great event and prepare the way for it.
Let us, in our several places and stations, do
our utmost to promote the kingdom of Christ
within us, by advancing the love and practice
of evangelical purity, and let us also frequent-
ly put up our request for the arrival of that
happy period when the knowledge of the
Lord shall cover the earth as the waters cover
the sea, and when there shall be nothing to
hurt or destroy in all the holy mountain of
the Lord.

i72

SERMON XV.

On duelling.

*' Put up again thy sword into his place ; for all they who
take the sword shall perish with the sword.**

The first principle in our nature is self-pre-
servation. To gratify this principle every ex-
ertion may and ought to be made, Mrhich does
not infringe the rights of our neighbour. To
repel the blow which aims at our destruc-
tion, even by the death of the offender, when
that is necessary to our safety, is lawful and
commendable; because we act in obedience
to this first of all principles, a desire of exist-
ence, without infringing any right of our
neighbour's, for surely he could never have
any right to take away our life. This prin-
ciple contemplates the perservation not merely
of our existence, but also of our faculties,
members and rights of every kind.

SERMON XV. 279

In aid of this principle, and subservient to
it, nature has provided us with another which
is innocent and useful when properly regu-
lated. This is what we call anger or resent-
ment. *When we arc hurt nature disposes us
to resist and retaliate. Besides the pain occa^
sioned by the injury, the mind is ruffled, and
a desire raised to retaliate upon its authour.
This principle is both defensive and olft nsive.
It prompts us not only to place ourselves
in a posture of defence ; but, as offensive arms
are often the suicst means of defence, by de-
terring the enemy from the assault, so resent-
ment leads us to go beyond ourselves and
strike terrour into the assailant by threatening
him with retaliation. Man, in his present
stage, is surrounded with so many objects of
a destructive nature, that he needs some ar-
mour which shall be always ready in the
moment of danger. Reason would be of
great use for this purpose where there is time
to apply it. But in many cases the mischief
would be done before reason could think of
the means of prevention. To supply this de-
fect the wisdom of nature has provided this
principle of resentment, which prevents mis-

* Reid's Essays,
VOL. II. N n

274 • SERMON XV.

chief by the fear of punishment, which is a
kind of penal statute, promulgated by nature,
the execution of which is committed to the one
who is threatened.

' It IS evident, however, that as it is unjust to
do an injury, so it is no less unjust to punish
it beyond measure ; for there the parties change
sides, and the injured become the injurious.
To prevent excessive resentment nature has
provided us with no means but the candour
and reflection of the injured party, and the
fear of a renewed resentment from the person
who originally did the injury. These, how-
ever, are very imperfect remedies. Nothing
can be more evident than that a man is a very
unlit judge in his own cause, especially when
inflamed by resentment and smarting under
injury. However clear might be our right
in a state of nature to redress our own wrongs,
yet in a state of social union, this right with
many others is surrendered into the hands of
the magistrate who is charged with the execu-
tion of the laws. Nor could the rights of in-
dividuals be more secure than when placed
under the protection of the united force of the
society, nor more impartially adjusted than
by indifferent and unprejudiced men. Hence

SERMON XV. 275

the law considers him as guilty of a crime
who, of his own private act, injures another
even in retahation for wrongs received. For
if we are assisted in the maintenance and re-
covery of our rights by the general strength
of the community, it is but reasonable that
we should wait for publick arbitration.

And this rule is not only founded in equity,
but in absolute necessity. For if mdividuals
were permitted to indulge their resentment,
and to seek redress of injuries with their own
arm, the safety, nay the very existence of so-
ciety would be at an end. Resentment is a
passion which indulgence has a peculiar ten-
dency to increase. Give it the reins and it
becomes ungovernable. The beginning of
strife is as when one leiteth out water ; as coals
are to burning coals, or as wood to fire, so are
contentious men to kindle strife. No one
can say of resentment, hitherto shalt thou go
and no farther. The impetuosity of passion
hurries us inevitably beyond the limits we
prescribed to ourselves, and the flames of dis-
sension being kindled, the spirit of retaliation
yearns for mutual destruction. In this pro-
gress of variance and strife, the original inju-
ry is altogether lost sight of, the passions of

276 SERMON XV.

others, who may be connections or friends Of
either party, draw them also into the vortex of
contention. Families, cities and nations are
placed agamst each other in hostile array>
and society is converted into a scene of blood-
shed and disorder.

It is therefore a first principle of the social
compact, as well as a maxim of religion, that
no irtdividualshould take it uponhim toavenge
himself. 1 he law declares vengeance is mine,
I will repay it. He therefore transgresses the
first principle of equity, who when he receives
an injury of whatever kind seeks redress in his
own person. One man injures another in his
property, by detaining from him a debt which
Is justly due. Does the injured party go and
seize the goods or property of the party who
commits the injury, and repay himself. Such
a proceeding every man of common sense
knows to be incompatible with the existence
oflaw^and of society. How comes it then
that a similar method of proceeding in the case
of an infringement of any other right does not
appear equally unjustifiable and absurd. How
comes it that when our honour or reputation is
injured, we not only omit to seek redress from
the fountain of justice, but even deem it pu-

SERMON XV. 277

sillanimous so to do, and, in violation of the first
duly ot a good member of society, take satis-
faction ourselves by calling forth the person
who did the wrong to single combat. Herein
we act more unjustifiably than our barbarous
ancestors, from whom the unhappy practice
descends. The duel constituted a part of their
publick administration of justice. It was so-
lemny and judicially appointed by the magis-
trate to assist him in deciding the merits of a
case. We cannot sufficiently pity the igno-
rance and superstition which gave rise to such
a practice. Unacquainted however with the
rules of evidence, in deciding causes, and im-
agining that the deity would Interpose for the
safety of the innocent, their conduct may in
this point of view admit of some excuse. But
we, in cases where the evidence is clear, where
the law is ready to pronounce its sentence,
grossly insult the majesty of the state, usurp the
power of the magistrate, and defeat one of the
principle ends of the social union, which was
instituted to restrain the excess of resentment,
by demanding private satisfaction for injuries
offered to our honour.

Here indeed it may be said that there cer-
tainly are cases where the law of nature per-
mits a person to redress his own wrongs without

<278 SERMON XV.

waiting for the decision of the judge. But
what are those cases ? Those in which no ap-
peal to the law is possible, as in desert islands,
where no society exists ; those cases in which
to wait for the protection of the law would be
attended with infinite and irretreivable ruin, as
when our life is assaulted and endangered.
Here as the law cannot furnish a man with a
perpetual guard, nor the magistrate be pre-
sent to protect the person of every individ-
ual in the community, the law allows him to
redress his own wrong, and to defend him-
self even if it lead to the death of the assail-
ant. But even in this case so strongly does
it disapprove of the practice of seeking private
redress, that every effort must have been pre-
viously made to escape, or to disarm the as-
sailant, before we can lawfully have recourse
to this expedient. In short, private redress of
injuries is allowable in cases where from defect
of evidence no redress could otherwise be ob-
tained. Thus in the 22d chap. 2d verse of Ex-
odus, we read this law, which agrees also with
that of the English code. ''If a thief be found
*' breaking up, and be smitten that he die, no
*' blood shall be shed for him: if the sun be
*' risen upon him, there shall be blood shed for
*^ him.'* The reason of which appears to be.

SERMON XV. 279

that if discovered and recognised, as he might
easily be in the day, the fact could be proved
and the decision ot the law ubstalned ; but if he
escaped, which he was likely to do in the dark,
no restitution or redress could be obtained.
But will it be said that injuries done to honour
are ni any respect in a similar predicament ?
What irretrievable mischief would ensue from
waiting for the decision of justice? What
more effectual vindication of our honour can
be obtained than by the impartial and delibe-
rate sentence of the law ? What redress more
satisfactory can we desire than to have our in-
nocence declared by disinterested and en-
ligthened men, and the brand of falsehood and
of infamy impressed upon our adversary I

Besides, if even the case were such as to
permit private retaliation, yet this ought to be
proportioned to the measure of the offence :
the same redress is not applicable in every
case. The very principle of this law, is, as ex-
pressed in the scriptures, " an eye for an eye,
and a tooth for a tooth." It may be just and
equitable that, whoso sheddeth man's blood
by man shall his blood be shed, but surely it
can never be just and equitable that a slight
injury, whether real or imaginary, arising

180 SERMON XV.

from some unguarded expression, from some
interference oHntcrest, or from sentiments of
pride mutally indulged, should be redressec
in the blood of the rival or aggressor. Neither
is it consistent with common sense, that, from
the retort courteous to the lie direct, there
should be only one method of redress, the
death or maiming of either of the parties.
Is it equally as criminal to question the integ-
rity of our neighbour as to plunge a dagger
into his bosom? Must an uncivil speech be
accounted for as manslaughter; or a passionate
blow be punished as premeditated murder ?

2. H^ who challenges another to single
combat, for injuries received, violates those
precepts of our divine religion which en-
join a meek, patient, and forgiving conduct.

The law of nature permits a retaliation for
wrongs, under this restriction, that, excepjt in
a few urgent and extraordinary cases, the re-
dress and punishment of wrongs be referred
to the magistrate. The law of Moses, which
is chiefly a publication of the law of nature,
expressly and formally enjoins under the
same restriction the law of retaliation. Thus
in Exodus, 21st chapter, and '23, 24, 25
verses, ** Thou shalt give life for life, eye

SERMON XV. 281

" for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot
" for foot, burning for burning, wound for
*^ wound, stripe for stripe." But all this was
expressly directed to be as the judges sliould
determine. Besides, there are many clauses
additional to and explanatory of this general
maxim, to be found in the books of Moses,
wliich greatly soften the rigour of the law,
and lean powerfully to the side of justice and
mercy. To prevent the fatal effects of sud-
den resentment, cities of refuge were appoint-
ed where the criminal might be secure, till
the law had calmly and deliberately decided
upon his guilt or innocence. And though
we read in the gospel that it was said by them
of old time, thou shalt love thy neighbour
and hate thine enemy, it must be confessed
that no such command as the latter of these ig
to be found in the Mosaic k law, but it must
have been the false comment of the Scribes
and Pharisees, as a mistaken inference from
some express commands of God to the Israel-
ites to destroy and root out the wicked and
idolatrous Canaanites. So much the reverse
was the true law, that Moses expressly says,
'* Thou shalt not avenge nor bear any grudge
'* against the children of thy people, but thou
VOL. ir. o o

2S^ SERMON XV.

'* shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.*' Lev.
xix. 18; and again, *' If thou meet thine
^' enemy's ox or his ass going astray, thou shalt
** surely bring it back to him again. If
** thou see the ass of him that hateth thee lying
** under his burden, and wouldst forbear to
" help him, thou shalt surely help with
'' him." Exodus, 23d chap. 4th and 5th verses.
In like manner in the book of Proverbs, 24th
chapter, 29th verse, ''Say not I will do so to
*' him as he hath done to me ; I will ren-
<'der to the man according to his work."
And under the Old Testament dispensation,
we have on record many illustrious examples
of patience under ill treatment, and forgiv-
ness of injuries. Nay even among the heath-
en writers we meet with many excellent max-
ims on this subject. Pythagoras is recorded to
have said, that, we ought neither to begin re-
proaches nor to avenge ourselves on those who
reproach us. Menander says, he who can
bear injuries patiently is the best of men.
Plato, in his celebrated work entitled Crito,
observes, that, even when provoked by an in-
jury we ought not to retaliate whatever we
may suffer from others.

It must be confessed, however, not only that

SERMON XV. 283

the Jewish writings spoke faintly on this sub-
ject, and that the heathen philosophers and sa-
^s were by no means consistent and uniform
in their opinions about the forgiveness of inju-
ries and the proper behaviour towards enemies,
but, also, that the custom and maxims of the
world were in the days of our Saviour, as in our
own, altogether the reverse ofmeeknessand for-
bearance. It was the era of war and of con-
quest, when rapine, bloodshed and cruelty
prevailed over the face of the earth, when the
fiery and turbulent soldier commanded more
effectually the esteem and applause of the
world than the peaceable and inoffensive ci-
tizen. The Jewish Rabbis had, from a mis-
taken interpretation of some of the precepts
of their law, and from a spirit of national pride,
inculcated an absolute hatred and contempt
of all nations but their own, so that they would
not point out the road or direct to the neigh-
bouring fountain any who was not a descen-
dant of Abraham.

It remained for the blessed Authour of our
holy religion to enlighten the world on this im-
portant subject, to teach fallen and sinful men
the duty of forgiving and forbearing with one
another. It formed indeed a necessary and

mk SERMON XV.

essential article in the gospel, the great design
of which was to promote peace on earth and
good will among men — which was itself so stri-
king z display of the divine forgiveness, and
which was embellished by so amiable and per-
fect an example of patience and forbearance in
him who was meek and lowly in heart. The
general character of the wisdom which cometh
from above is that it is pure and peaceable, gen-
tle and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and
of good fruits. It is a system of humanity, kind-
ness and love, utterly incompatible with vari-
ance, emulation, wrath, strife and malice. It
commands us to put on, as we pretend to be
the elect of God, bowels of mercies, meekness
of disposition, humility of mind, forgiving and
forbearing one another in love. It com-
mands us to live peaceably with all men, not
only with the good and gentle, but also with
the froward. On the one hand it inculcates a
gentle and inoffensive behaviour, so that ali
ground of variance on our part may be remo-
ved. It condemns not only actions hurtful to
our neighbour, but also words which may
wound his feelings and provoke him to wrath,
and even injurious thoughts and unreasonable

SERMON XV. 285

anger though concealed in the breast. Thus
says our Lord in the gospel of Matthew, 5th
chapter, 21st and '2'2d verses, ** Ye have heard
'* that it was said by them of old time, thou
" shalt not kill, and whosoever shall kill, shall
" be in danger of the judgment; but I say unto
" you, that whosever is angry with his brother
*' without a cause, shall be in danger of the
^' judgment, and whosoever shall say to his
*' brother Raca, shall be in danger of the
'* council; but whosoever shall say, thou fool,
'* shall be in danger of hell fire.'* Were these
and similar directions frequently occuring in
the New Testament to be sincerely and punc-
tually obsei*ved by those who profess to obey
them, the flame of resentment would, for want
of fuel, soon die of itself. But in a mixed and
imperfect state, offences must needs come.
And the gospel has not omitted to give us di-
rections for regulating our conduct in such
cases. But what are these directions ? Does
the gospel represent it as cowardly and mean-
spirited to act with the calmness of a reasonable
being when we have been exposed to injuries?
When men revile us, and speak all manner of
evil against us falsely, are we commanded to
return railing for railing ? When even, in a

SI86 SERMON XV.

fit of passion, he has smitten us on the cheek,
are we directed to seize him and demand in-
stant satisfaction to the utmost extent of retalia-
tion ? No, on the contrary, we are commanded
to bear these things patiently, not to resist evil,
not to recompense evil for evil, sincerely and
unreservedly to forgive our brother the wrongs
which he may have done us; nay even to love,
to bless, and to do acts of kindness to those who
are guilty of the greatest outrage and abuse, and
all this it enjoins us to do as we hope to have
our names enrolled in the Lamb's book of life.
For hear the words of the Lawgiver himself,
and also the commentary of one of his Apostles,
*' Ye have heard that it hath been said, an eye
*' for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth : But I say
''unto you, that ye resist not evil ; but who-
** soever shall smite thee on thy right cheek
" turn to him the other also ; and if any man
*' sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat,
*' let him have thy cloak also. And whoso-
*' ever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with
^' him twain. Ye have heard that it hath been
" said, thou shalt love thy neighbour and hate
" thine enemy; but I say unto you, love your
^* enemies, bless them that curse you, do good
'* to them that hate you, and pray for then*

SERMON XV. CJ87

•* that despitefully use you and persecute
" you. If ye farglve men their trespasses your
'* heavenly father will also forgive you, but
*' if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neith-
*' er will your heavenly father forgive your
*' trespasses." To the same purpose St. Paul
says, *' Bless them which persecute you,
'' bless and curse not. Recompense to no
'^ man evil for evil. Dearly beloved, avenge
*' not yourselves, but rather give place unto
'* wrath ; for it is written, vengeance is mine:
'* I will repay, saith the Lord. Therefore, if
'* thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he
''thirst, give him drink; for in so doing,
'^ thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head.
'^ Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil
*' with good."

It is not necessary to my present purpose to
enter into a defence of these precepts, to show
their reasonableness, or to point out the many
motives which should induce you to comply
with them. This I have done on former oc-
casions, with what success will appear at that
day when I must account for what I have
here spoken, and you for what you have
here heard. Besides, as Christians, you pro-
fess to receive them and to be governed by

^88 SERMON XV.

them. Neither is it necessary to enter into
a critical examination of these passages, and
to shew the exact measure of forbearance
which they enjoin. Some of the early fa-
thers of the church, while Christianity was
yet new, and a zeal for the words of the Sa-
viour was still warm and unabated, maintained
that they required a non-resistence, absolutely
unlimited, inconsistent with the exercise of
war, of self-defence, and of redress of injuries
of any kind or in any way. One of them (St.
Ambrose) maintained that if a Christian was
assaulted, even by an armed robber, he ought
not to retaliate upon the assailant, lest while he
defended his life he should pollute his piety^
Another (St. Augustine) says **1 cannot approve
" of this advice to slay another in self-defence,
" unless it be in the case of a soldier, or of a
•* publick functionary who possesses a lawful
" authority, and is bound by his office, to do
** this not for himself, but for others."

Others, with much more justice, have
maintained that an interpretation so rigorous
would place the morality of Jesus in direct
opposition to the natural sentiments of right
and wrong, would be inconsistent with other
passages of scripture, and contrary to the ex-

SERMON XV. 289

amples of Christ and his Apostles. However
this may be, taking these precepts in the ve-
ry lowest sense which they can possibly bear,
they will not tail to stamp with guilt the
practice which we are now considering. - It
is certain that the gospel condemns all pride,
violent and excessive anger, malice and re-
venge; that It enjoins humility, meekness,
patience, and forgiveness of m juries. But
whence come wars and lightings among us ?
Come they not from those very passions
which the gospel commands us to suppress ?
What is it but pride which fills a man with
an overweaning idea of himself, which magni-
fies every aftVont or injury offered to his dignity
and his feelings, that seeks after occasions to
distinguish itself, that causes a man to refuse to
be entreated or to confess the faults which he
may have in return committed ? What is it but
anger that pushes him on to resist and to re^
taliate. What but revenge ih'niQooWy and de-
liberately resolves on the destruction of his
adversary, pursues him into his domestick re-
tirement, tears him from his family and friends^
drags him to the field of death, and points the
instrument of murder where it should have
placed the shield of defence. Humihtv,
VOL, ir. p p

^m SERMON XV.

meekness, patience and forgiveness are never
found in such society. They are the stead-
fast friends of peace and concord. They
were the constant companions of him w^hom
we profess to imitate. They shone forth in
his looks; they breathed in his words; they
stood forth embodied in all his actions. When
lie was reviled he reviled not again ; when
he suffered he threatened not ; but gave his
back to the smiters, and his cheeks to them
who plucked off the hair. When malice
was directing all her shafts against him, when
insolence loaded him with contumely, when
justice refused to listen to his cry, when cru-
elty assailed him in the most terrible forms,
meekness, patience, and forgiveness did not
forsake him, but dictated his last words, which
were a prayer for the forgiveness of his enemies
and persecutors. Let this illustrious example
convince those violent spirits, who extinguish
the flame of their resentment with the blood
of their adversary, that by complying with
the precepts of the gospel they are in no dan-
ger of degrading their nature or of extinguish-
ing the sense of honour. Human nature was
never so much exalted as by the character
and life of our Saviour. The sense of honour

SERMON XV. 291

was never more delicate than in the breast of
Jesus of Nazareth. Low as was his rank, the
tempter shrank back from his rebuke.
Though bound as a criminal, Pilate trembled
in his awful presence. The lawless and en-
raged multitude, overawed by the dignity of
his countenance, suffered him to pass unhurt
through the midst of them. Such is the res-
pect which the calm aspect of virtue can se-
cure !

But let the men of the world think of these
virtues as they please, the Christian cannot
think lightly of them, who knows that upon
the practice of them all his hopes of future
happiness depend. Only reflect that erelong
your will stand before the judgment seat of
God, supplicants for mercy and forgiveness,
and then say what ought to be your conduct
under the most provoking injuries. Imagine
your secret sins disclosed and brought to
light; imagine yourselves thus humbled and
exposed ; trembling under the hand of God ;
casting yourselves on his mercy, crying out
for forgiveness of your ten thousand aggrava-
ted offences; then imagine such a creature
talking of satisfaction, refusing to be entreated,
disdaining to forgive, extreme to mark and to

^292 SERMON XV.

resent what is done amiss — it is impossible to
imagine an instance of more impious and un-
natural arrogance.

Here perhaps it may be said that I have been
hitherto only contending with a phantom ; that
I have ahogether mistaken the point. The ad-
vocate for duelling is not an advocate for re-
venge. He who calls forth another that has
injured and insulted him, rejects with abhor-
rence the imputation of so base a motive. He
freely forgives the insult received : he has even
an esteem for the offender. It is not hatred, or
revenge, or a thirst for blood, that calls him to
the field, but a direful necessity which none
laments more than himself, either to forfeit
what is dear to him above all things, his hon-
our, or to demand satisfaction for an offence
which he would otherwise have overlooked.

Allowing this to be the case, 1 shall by and
by proceed to show the folly and wickedness
of such a principle. But I cannot allow it to
to be the case. Will any one seriously say
that he who assails his neighbour with a dead-
ly weapon has no enmity nor ill-will against
him ? if he has not, his conduct is more ab-
surd than the madman who casteth about (ire-
brands, airows and death, and saith am X not

SERMON XV. 293

in sport? The intoxication of passion, though
it docs not justify, may yet account for the
commission of this crime. But, for the hon-
our of human nature, we cannot suppose that
any man would assault another's Hfe out of
mere wantonness and gaiety of heart. If it be
pretended that it is in vindication of his honour
which has been injured, were there not many
other more eftectual methods of doing this
than by calling his adversary forth to single
combat ? Was his courage questioned ? Was
there no publick enemy, against whom his
prowess might be displayed, that he must
thus attack a fellow citizen, perhaps a friend?
AVas his veracity impeached ? Was there no
tribunal competent to decide so well as the
point of the sword ? AVho does not perceive the
prudence and propriety of the answer given
by Augustus to Anthony, when the latter,
tortured with shame at his own misconduct,
galled with envy at his rival's success, despair-
ing of his affairs, and disgusted with existence,
challenged the former to single combat ? " If
** Anthony is weary of his life, said Augustus,
** there are many thousand ways of ending it
" besides the point of my sword." The chal-
lenger, therefore, cannot evade the charge of

^94 SERMON XV.

revenge ; he cannot pretend that from the
heart he forgives the trespasses of him whose
life he seeks.

3. But I now proceed to other instances of
guilt attending the practice of duelUng, which
apply equally to him who gives and him who
accepts a challenge. For both are in the eye
of God guilty of murder. To take a way
the life of another unjustly has in all ages and
nations been deemed the greatest crime which
can possibly be committed against God, against
society, or against an individual. It is a di-
rect insult to the majesty of heaven, whose im-
age we bear ; it is a violent attack on the au-
thority of the law, which promises protection
to all its subjects; it violates at once every tem-
poral right of the individual, and may plunge
him, with all his sins upon his head, uncancel-
led, unrepented of, into everlasting misery.
Hence the wise Authour of, our frame hath
not only impressed upon the mind a sense of
the guilt of murder, but ha5 moreover strength-
ened it by the most inexpressible horrour, and
the most awful anticipations of punishment,
which no distance of time, no subsequent pros-
perity, can ever wholly obliterate from the
thoughts of those who have been guilty of its

SERMON XV. 295

commission. ** My punishment/' said he
who did the first murder, ** is greater tlian I
*' can bear; every one that iindeth mc shall
" slay me."

Revelation fences and guards human life
in a manner still more strict and avvful than
even the sentiments of nature, aided by the
desire of self-preservation. For thus spake
God unto Noah, '* Surely your blood of your
** lives will I require ; at the hand of every
'* beast will I require it : and at the hand of
'* man, at the hand of every man's brother will
*' I require the life of man. Whoso sheddeth
" man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed :
'' for in the image of God made he man."
No one is ignorant of the sixth commandment
of the law. '' Thou shalt not kill;" And lest
any one should suppose that this heinous crime
might, like some other instances of transgres-
sion of a very aggravating nature, have a me-
thod of expiation and atonement appointed for
it, the performance of which would absolve the
criminal from his guilt and punishment, the
lawgiver adds, Dcut.xix. 11> 13, **lf any man
" hate his neighbour, and smite him mortally
" that he die, thine eye shall not pity him."
Numb. XXXV. 31, '* Moreover ye shall take no

^96 SERMON XV.

"satisfaction for the life of a murderer; but he
'' shall surely be put to death/* Neither the ci-
ties of refuge, nor even the altar of God, could
screen the murderer from punishment. Exod.
xxi. 14, *' If a man come presumptuously upon
*' another to slay himwith guile, thou shalt take
** him from mine altar, that he may die." Yea
still to increase our reverence for human life,
and our abhorrence of murder, it is added, that
even the brute animal which might be the in-
strument of taking away a man's life was accur-
sed, and the place where the deed was commit-
ted was polluted. Exod. xxi. 28, " If an ox
'^ gore a man or a woman, that they die, then
*' the ox shall surely be stoned, and his flesh
*' shall not be eaten.'* Numbers xxxv. 33,
*' Ye shall not pollute the land wherein ye
** are ; for blood defileth the land, and the
** land cannot be cleansed of the blood that is
*' shed therein, but by tlie blood of him that
<* shed it/' The gospel not only confirms and
sanctions every tittle of the moral law, but, on
this subject in particular, declares that no mur-
derer hath eternal life abiding in him, but
that they shall have their part in the lake
which burneth with fire and brimstome, which
is the second death.

^ SERMON XV. 297

' I have recalled to your recollection these
prohibitions and aggravations of this horrid and
unnatural crime, that you may see more clear-
ly how valuable and sacred a thing the life of
man is in the eye both of religion and of the
law, and what dreadful guilt they incur who
unjustly deprive another of that which is the
foundation of every blessing. Now by what
arguments or evasion shall the duellist evade
the imputation of this crime? Does he not
voluntarily and with premeditation attempt
to take away the life of his adversary? The
failure of the attempt does not diminish the
guilt of the attempt ; for, though the law would
not account it murder unless followed by an
actual kilhng, yet God, who searcheth the heart
and with whom intentions are acts, considers
the attempt as no less criminal than the act it-
self. Where the death of either or both the
parties ensues, that this is murder is not the
language of divines only, or of partial advo-
cates, but of that law which has justly been
esteemed the proudest monument of human
Wisdom. *' This,'* says its ablest and clearest
commentator, speaking of the case where one,
with a sedate, deliberate mind, and formed de-
sign, doth kill another, ** takes in the case of

VOL. IT. Q q

298 SERMON XV.

" deliberate duelling, where both parties meet
'' avpwedly with an intent to murder; think-
** ing it their duty as gentlemen, and claim-
^* ing it as their right, to wanton with their
^' own lives and those of their fellow creatures;
" without any warrant or authority from any
*^ power either divine or human, but in di-
** rect contradiction to the laws both of God
^* and man ; and therefore the law has justly
'* fixed the crime and punishment of mur-
^' der on them, and on their seconds also."

It is the common language of the duellist
to say that he allows his adversary a fair and
equal chance in combat. But what a chance ! !
The chance of being slain, or, what is worse,
of committing murder. Without, indeed,
the exposure of the persons of the parties,
duelling would be nothing else than assassina-
tion. And as it is, it makes no difference in
the guilt, and but little in the consequence.
The highwayman who, in the face of day,
attacks and murders another who is also armed
and prepared, may be admired perhaps for
a certain kind of generosity and courage, but
he is not the less a murderer on that account.
The danger to which the duellist is equally
exposed with his adversary may perhaps de-

SERMON XV. 299

ter a few from engaging in duels who would
be glad to dispatch their enemy where it could
be done without personal risk. But on the
other hand, the excessive baseness and mean-
ness of the crime of assassination will ever pre-
vent Its commission by men of the smallest
pretentions to courage and magnanimity;
whereas the fascinating glare which the sup-
posed generosity and bravery of engaging in
single combat throws over this crime will be
apt to dazzle and allure many who otherwise
might be inclined to forgive. And it is found
in fact that there are very few indeed who
have not sufficient bravery to run the hazar4
to which they are exposed in a duel, in obe-
dience to the call of passion or of false hon-
our.

4. Will the duellist plead, in extenuation of
his offence the mutual consent and permission
of the parties to attempt each other's life ? But
it is evident that no man can transfer to an-
other a right which he does not possess him-
self, namely, to determine the duration of
his own life. This evasion only leads us to
consider another circumstance of guilt attend-
ing those who engage in duels. I mean,
that, by wantonly exposing their own lives.

300 SERMON XV.

thejr incur the guilt of self-murder. That
the Almighty, by the very constitution of our
nature, has fixed his canon against self-mur-
der. That we ought not to desert our post,
abandon our trust, and rush uncalled into the
presence of oar Maker, are points requiring no
proof to a Christian audience. But are not
they guilty of this sin, who, rather than sup-
port the pain and torture of imaginary dishon-
our, seek to disburden themselves of existence 5
For where is the difference between voluntarily
rushing upon another's sword and plunging
it into our own bosom ? Were the Romans
who perished, at their own request, by the
hands of their freed-men, less guihy of suicide^
than they who fell upon their own swords ?
We came into being for important purposes,
When these purposes are fully answered, and
our continuance in the world altogether use-
less, we are evidently incompetent to deter-
mine. Our duty to society and to ourselves
requires that we should strive to preserve our
life and faculties for the discharge of that du-
ty, until we receive a manifest and irresistible
call to depart hence. Can our life ever be of
so little consequence and value to ourselves or
to others that we may wantonly put it in the

SERMON. XV. 30L

power of any violent spirit who may choose to
ask it of us? When we are required to make
our calling and election sure, when we have
need constantly to improve ourselves in know-
ledge and virtue, when perhaps our fall will
bring the gray hairs of aged parents with sor-
row to the grave, or expose to want and mise*^
ry the infants of whose existence we have been
the instruments ? Can any man in his sober
senses deem it wise and prudent not rather to
bear the proud man's wrong, the oppressor's
contumely, than expose himself to the divine
wrath, and plunge himself into utter destruc-
tion ? What will the duellist be profited if he
gains the applause of the whole world and
lose his own life and his own soul ? This leads
me to observe,

5. That they who give and except chal-
lenges are guilty of the folly and wickedness
of paying a greater deference to the opinion of
the world than to the laws of God and to the
dictates of their own mind. It has been al-
ready proved that the practice of duelling is
inconsistent with reason and religion, that it
implies a very high degree of guilt, and that
no man who is actuated by a sense of duty can
ever engage in a duel. There is reason also t(v

002 SERMON XV.

believe that few men who have seriously reflec-
ted on the subject, approve of the practice, they
lament it as a great evil, which requires to be
remedied. But still they practise it, and, what
makesthis sin differ from many others, and adds
greatly to its guilt, they habitually practise It,
by being resolved to do so, whenever occasion
offers. And wherefore is this ? They love the
praise of men more than the praise of God.
The world has said that he who tamely bears
insults and injuries, that he who refuses to
give another honourable satisfaction for them
when required, is a coward — and this is an im-
putation which they must wipe away. So to
prove themselves no coward, they commit a
most flagrant act of cowardice ; they fear
where there is no cause for fear, they dread a
phantom which has no power to hurt.

There is not In our language a word of
more equivocal meaning, less clearly under-
stood, and more egregiously misapplied than
honour. Strictly speaking, it originally sig-
nified that sentiment of esteem and approba-
tion which exists in the mind of others, for
what is excellent and virtuous. But, by a
natural transition, it Is also applied to that mer-
it which is the ground of this esteem. Hence

SERMON XV. 303

honour, as applied to a man himself, is noth-
ing but virtue. Honour as applied to others
is the reputation of virtue. Virtue, then, is
the substance^ honour is the shadow. He who
acts uprightly and in conformity with the laws
of reason and religion is the truly honourable
man: for he is honourable whether man
think so or not, he who deserts the path of
duty, and, by servile compliance, seeks to be
accounted honourable by the world, pursues
the shadow and loses the substance. In the
eyes of God and in the eyes of all wise men
he is actually dishonoured, for he wants the
only foundation on which honour can rest.

Beside, let those who are disposed to follow
fashion and opinion, as the guides of conduct,
consider seriously the consequences of such a
principle. Our ideas of morality would not
in that case be more stable than our taste in
dress and equipage. Their is not a duty
which might not be got rid of, if the prevail-
ing opinion were once admitted to be the
standard of virtue; if vague and unauthorised
maxims of honour were allowed to create ex-
ceptions to the divine law.

By steadily adhering to our duty, through
good report and through bad report, we en-

$6k SEHMON XV.

*

joy the internal approbation of our own mind ;
and surely one self-approving hour far out-
weighs the loudest plaudits of the giddy mul-
titude.

The man who'follows honour, as a guide of
conduct distinct from virtue, puts his neck un-
der a yoke, he becomes the slave of publick
opinion, he enlists himself in the service of
6ne of the most capricious, inconsistent and
tyrannical masters, whose laws are obscure, per-
plexed and entangled. The man of princi-
ple, who follows virtue as his sole guide and
his only aim, proceeds in a safe and plain
path, he has only to inquire whether God
hath said, ''this do,*' to awaken his exertions,
and ** this thou shalt not do,*' to induce him
to abstain. He is not insensible to the voice
of sincere and well-earned praise; but still it
is a small matter with him to be judged of
man's judgment. He looks up to a higher
tribunal, where the judge is altogether compe-
tent to decide, and his decision will finally
award the prize. A few misguided men may
Censure him who has courage to set at nought
their opinions, to act according to his own
principles, to reject a sinful compliance with
the practice and maxims of the world. But

SERMON XV. 305

his record is on high, his witness is in heaven.
He has confidence towards God ; his own
heart does not condemn him. Angels pro-
claim their approbation; all wise and good
men join their amen. Even the censures
and reproaches of the world, like clouds which
seek to obscure the sun, will be gradually dis-
persed, and the man of principle, who feared
God and had no other fear, will shine forth
with greater splendour, approved of God and
of man.

Thus dangerous and uncertain a guide is
human opinion, even allowing it to be inno-
cent and well founded. But if the opinion of
the world be false and absurd ; if it be at utter
variance with our duty and interest, then, I
should suppose, there can be no question
whether we ought to obey God or man ; that
we must not follow the whole world to do evil.
Now, in the case before us, what arc the opin-
ions of the world which are the foundation of
this destructive practice ? First, that it is cow-
ardly to put up with an affront or any imputa-
tion on our honour. But as to this virtue of
courage, deemed so honourable, and the repu-
tation of which is so highly courted, abstractly
considered, it is no virtue at all. It depends

VOL. II. R r

306 SERMON XV.

entirely upon the purpose to which it is ap-
plied. When employed in the discharge of
our duty, when guided by discretion, when
tempered with humanity, it is justly ranked
among the highest principles ot* our nature.
But when exercised with passion, in the ser-
vice of revenge, to destroy and not to protect,
then it is brutal and ferocious, an object of de-
testation and abhorrence. In this species of
courage, if it may be called so, the highway-
man and the robber, are certainly entitled to
the palm ; the lion and the tyger leave all
your men of honour at a hopeless distance.

But allowing that, independent ot* the merits
of the question, some kind of courage is ne-
cessary to expose our person in the field, does
it follow that he is destitute of courage who de-
clines the call ? There is a species of valour,
different indeed in kind from the former, but
of a much more exalted and honourable na-
ture, which is displayed in resisting our own
passions and in meeting undismayed the eye
of a misjudging world. Ibis passive valour
requires a greater exertion of self-command,
it manifests a greater superiority to popular
prejudices; it shows fortitude in the discharge
of duty which neither his own turbulent pas-

SERMON XV. 307

sions, nor the insolence of provocation, nor
the sneers of folly can shake. He that is slow
to wrath is better than the mighty, and he that
ruleth his spirit greater than he that taketh
a city. He who, from weakness of nerves or
bodily imbecility, cannot meet his adversary
in the field, is not intitled to this praise. But,
on the other hand, he is not deserving of
blame; for he might as well be condemned for
wanting the strength of the elephant or the
swiftness of the rein deer. But the man who,
from principle and a just sentiment of honour,
disregards the efforts of little angiy souls to
wound his feelings and to disturb his peace,
who repays contumely and insults with cour-
teous behaviour and kind offices, who marches
on in the path of duty with a firm and un-
daunted step, rises above the ordinary rank
of humanity, and imitates him whose fairest
best loved attribute is to pity and forgive.

To meet another, in what is falsely called
the field of honour, is an effort which many
a coward has forced himself against his nature
to make, but we cannot meet with a single
instance where he could induce himself to
forgive. This is a task left for men of great
and generous dispositions, for men who are as

;^08 SERMON XV.

much above fearing as doing ill, for men who
have a true sense of honour, and who, in con-
sequence of this, continue doing every thing
which they ought to do, fear nothing but what
they ought to fear.

Nay, my brethren, may we not retort the
charge of cowardice on those weak and tim-
orous minds who tremble at undeserved re-
proach, who dread shame more than guilt,
who fear him who can kill the body only
more than him who can cast both soul and
body into hell fire.

But how many noble instances are on re-
cord where persons have declined to give or
to receive a challenge, without the smallest
imputation on their courage or their honour!
was Colonel Gardiner a coward who replied
to one who challenged him, ** 1 am not afraid
" to fight but I am afraid to sin/' Was the
the honour of Sir Walter Raleigh tarnished,
when this great man, upon being very injuri-
ously treated by a hot-headed, rash youth,
that next proceeded to challenge him, and on
his refusal to fight spit upon him, and that
too in publick, took out his handkerchief, and
with great calmness made only this reply,
•* Young man, if I could as easily wipe your

SERMON XV. 309

** blood from my conscience, as I can this in-
"jury from my face, I would this moment take
*' away your life ! '* Who does not admire the
prudence, the magnanimity and the courage of
the Marshal Turenne who, when a young offi-
cer, at the siege of a fortified town, had no less
than twelve challenges sent him, all of which
he put in his pocket without farther notice;
but being soon after commanded upon some
desperate attack on a part of the fortifications,
he sent a billet to each of the challengers, ac-
quainting them *' that he had received their
" papers, which he deferred answering till a
" proper occasion offered, both for them and
" for himself, to exert their courage for the
" publick service; that being ordered next
'* day to assault the enemies works he desired
^' their company, when they would have an
*' opportunity of signalizing their own bravery
" and of being witness of his!" In short, to
propose an example of the perfection and
propriety of which their can be no question,
was the sense of honour extinct in the breast
of Jesus of Nazareth, who, when one of the of-
ficers that stood by struck him with the palm
of his hand, calmly replied, *' if I have spo-
'* ken evil, bear witness of the evil; if well

310 SERMON XV.

*' why smitest thou me V* All ye who would
be sincere Christians, and men of true honour,
go and do likewise.

Thus much for the sinfulness of duelling;
and as this is the point which I am more par-
ticularly called on to illustrate here, perhaps,
the discourse might terminate. But, as I do
not wish to leave any matter of this controver-
sy wholly untouched, or to allow the duellist
any advantage which he might claim from
the expediency or usefulness of the practice,
I beg your farther indulgence while I say a
few words on its folly and mischievous tend*
ency.

He, we are told, who wantonly and outrage-
ously injures the honour and the feelings of
his neighbour, ought to suifer for his mis-
conduct. And so he ought. But how will
duelling answer the end of punishment, when
the injured person runs the same risk of suf-
fering with the person who did the injury?
This is to confound innocence and guilt, re-
ward and punishment.

He who has received any injury, we are
farther told, has a right to satisfaction and
compensation: his violated honour requires
publick reparation. And let him have satis-

SERMON XV. 311

faction of the most substantial and genuine
kind. But surely duelling furnishes no such
satisfaction. The destruction of your neigh-
bour is no recompense for the loss which you
have sustained. You may take the life of
him who gives you the lie, or charges you
with a breach of trust; but hereby you will
only load your conscience with the guilt of
his blood, and your veracity and integrity
will still be as much subject to question as be-
fore. If his charge be just, you were the
person who impeached your honour, when
you committed the crime. If unjust, your
best vindication will lie in manifesting to the
world the falsehood of his imputation, and the
infamy will then redound with tenfold weight
upon the head of the slanderer.

But tamely to submit to every insult with-
out resistance or retaliation, would only be an
invitation to farther acts of injustice and op-
pression. I have never said that redress of in-
juries is in no case to be sought for and obtain-
ed. I only say that the redress must be such
asisconsistentwilh reason and with Christianity.
But would the evil dreaded actually ensue?
He must be an ungenerous and dastardly cow-
ard who will continue to persecute one who

312 SERMON XV.

receives his ill-usage with coolness and disre-
gard— who returns blessing for cursing, po-
liteness for insult, love for hatred. If your ad-
versary be worth the gaining, if he is such a
character as even your man of honour would
meet in the field, such behaviour will assured-
ly gain him. A soft answer turneth wrath ; and
the most effectual way to overcome evil is by
good. If he is otherwise disposed, the wisest
treatment is silence and contempt ; for surely
it cannot be incumbent on a man of worth and
respectability to enter the list of contention with
any worthless and abandoned character who
chooses, by insolence and abuse, to provoke his
resentment. A prudent and peaceable man
has nothing to dread even from the insolent
and overbearing. They will either be dis-
armed by forbearance, or they will reap the
contempt and detestation of the world for their
pains. It is by pride that contention cometh.
If a man, indeed, be himself quarrelsome and
contentious, if his own manners be rude, of-
fensive and overbearing ; if he tarry long at
the wine, and then have wo, sorrow, conten-
tions, babblings, and wounds without cause, he
must extricate himself in the best way he can.
For the evil consequences of such conduct.

SERMON XV. 313

religion prescribes no remedies because it ut-
terly condemns the conduct from which they
flow.

But who is he that will harm you if ye be
followers of that which is good. When envy
and. strife and wars begin, possess ye your
souls in patience. Ihe storm will soon be
over; and should the demon of revenge
come forth in the tempest, think it not incum-
bent on you to encounter him. It is not
honour which attends him, but some spirit
of darkness which counterfeits her likeness.
Walk on in the path of virtue, in the company
of the wise and peaceful. In this way you
will gain the favour of God and of man : and
the phantom which you dread has not the
smallest power to do you harm.

But the advocate for duelling farther says,
that, if this fair and honourable method of re-
dress be abolished, the consequence will be
continual assaults and affrays ; the strong tri-
umphing over the weak, and the streets night-
ly moistened with the blood shed by the as-
sassin*s dagger. Here at last the truth has
come out. It is a spirit of revenge, which
prompts men to engage in duels, and if denied
gratification in this way, it will vent itself in

VOL. II. s s

314 SERMON XV.

another. Such are the inconsistencies to
which the advocates of a bad cause are always
reduced. Besides, shall we vindicate one
crime by another still more unlawful. Be-
cause it is forbiden to murder, is it therefore
lawful to steal ?

But would the consequences predicted ne*
cessarily follow? One would suppose, from
the language of the duellist, that, if this
practice were abolished, all law, morality
and decency would be abolished together
with it. The strong might trample upon the
weak, if there were no laws to protect the per-
sons of every member of the society, and
no fear of God nor sense of religion to
check the violence of passion. And what
other security have we that the strong shall not
takeaway the property of the weak, that the
rich shall not oppress the poor, and the cun-
ning defraud the simple. Behind the shield
of religion and law the weakest member of
society may rest in peace and security.
Would assassination be committed ? But by
whom ? Not surely by the men of honour
and others who follow reason and religion as
their guides, and who know that such a crime
is in direct opposition to their laws, and is more-

SERMON XV. 315

over followed by inevitable present misery,
and, unless repented of, by everlasting de-
struetion. Lei us, at any rale, not do evil
that good may come. Let us make an ex-
periment which an appeal to fact will fully
justify. For though the passions of men have
led them to commit foul and deadly crimes,
in all ages and countries, it does not appear
that assassination has been more frequent in
those ages and countries where the practice of
duelling was utterly unknown, than in the pre-
sent times of rehnement and honour.

In short, the advocates for duelling main-
tain that the practice has at least produced
in men a more delicate attention to tlie feel-
ings of each other, a greater degree of cour-
tesy and politeness of behaviour than were
known in former times. And for this shall
we sacrifice our principles, our religion and
our hope of heaven? But how does duel-
ling produce these effects, because the un-
civil, the outrageous, the abusive, may be
called to risk their lives in the field of hon-
our. Fear, then, is the principle in our
nature by whicii it operates. Without men-
tioning that this is the very princ iple, the im-
putation of which the duellist so much dreads.

316 SERMON XV.

I shall only observe, that that politeness which
is the effect of fear and constraint, cannot sit
easy on a man, or be of much value. The
true source of politeness is a benevolent and
kind disposition. Where all is goodness with-
in, all will be gracious and obliging without.
We, Christians, know that politeness is an es-
sential branch of the love of our neighbour,
and that we are expressly commanded in the
gospel to be gentle and courteous. We per-
ceive also, in the intercourse of society, that
it is manifestly our interest to pursue that
course of behaviour which has a tendency to
procure us the good will and esteem of all
around us. Nor will we so far disparage the
blessed effects of our holy religion, or of the
progress of light and knowledge, as to allow
that a gothick, barbarous and inhuman prac-
tice is the sole or even the principle cause of
that superiour refinement of manners which
characterizes modern times-

317

Morning and Evening Prayers used at the Or-
phan- House, Charleston ^ S. C, composed by
the Rev, Dr. Buist, for the use of the orphans
in that institution.

MORNING PRAYER.

Our Father who art In heaven, since thou
hast ordained praise out of the mouths oF babes
and sucklings, we now approach thee with
reverence and humlUty, to offer the homage of
gratitude and praise for the many mercies we
have received from thee, to confess our own
unworthincss and numerous faults, to make
known unto thee our various wants, and to pray
for those good things which are useful both
for the body and the soul. O thou who art
the Father of the fatherless, and who feedest
the young ravens, turn not away thine ear
from the supplications of those unhappy or-
phans who have no father nor protector but
thee. Good cause have we and all mankind
to magnify and bless thy holy name ; to rev-
erence thy power; to admire thy wisdom;
to fear thy justice ; to love thy holiness, and

318 PRAYERS.

above all, to extol thy loving kindness and ten-
der mercies. We praise thee, O God ! for our
being, tor the noble faculties which thou hast
bestowed on us, for the many things which
thou hast given to make us happy, and for
the tender care and affection which thou hast
shown towards us ever since we came into be-
ing. Before our thoughts had learned to form
themselves in prayer, thou didst mercifully
lend an ear to our complaints and cries.
Even at this present time, though our ignor-
ance and inattention prevent us from perceiv-
ing thee, thou art our gracious guide and pow-
ful protector. Thy hand, unseen, perserves
us from a thousand dangers, calamities, and
temptations which would otherwise prove
fatal to our happiness and our virtue. We
humbly thank thee, that when we were desti-
tute and forsaken by our earthly parents and
relations, thou didst kindly and bountifully
open for us a place of refuge in this house.
We are grateful for the food which we eat,
for the raiment wherewith we are clothed,
for the air which we breath, and for the
health and happiness which we enjoy. We
praise thee for the means of improvement
which thou hast put in our power ; for the

PRAYERS. 319

benefits of knowledge and the blessings of re-
ligion which thou hast conferred on us. We
do most affectionately, with all the powers of
our body and soul, thank and praise thee for
thy goodness to us and to all mankind, In send-
ing thy son Jesus Christ, not only to deliver us
from death and future punishment, but, by
his holy life and meritorious death, to procure
us a title to eternal happiness in heaven. We
sincerely praise thee that thou hast instructed
us in those things, and allowest us time and
opportunity to profit by them, while many
younger and more deserving than we, have
been taken out of the land of the living, and
deprived of all the means of grace and duty :
For we confess, O God ! that we have behaved
very ungratefully to thee in return for so much
goodness, and that we are altogether unworthy
of a continuance of thy favour. Conceived in
sin and brought forth in iniquity, we are natu-
rally prone to evil, and though nowenlightened
by reason and religion, we too often offend
thee m thought, word and deed. Deaf to
the instruction of our teachers and the voice
of wisdom, we have heedlessly run on in the
ways of folly, and proved disobedient children
to thee. But we beseech thee, O merciful

320 PRAYERS.

God ! ,in the midst of wratli remember mercy.
For the sake of thy beloved son Jesus Christ
forgive all.our past foHies, and receive us into
thv favour and friendship. We are sinful, do
thou sanctify us. We are weak, do thou sup-
port us. We are ignorant, do thou instruct us.
Defend us from evil of every kind. Preserve
us now, and throughout life, in the paths of
righteousness, innocence, and peace. Enable
us by diligence and application to make due
progress in the several branches of education
allotted us. Teach us to behave with reverence
and obedience to our guardians and teachers,
and with humility and respect to all men.
Enable us to live in peace and harmony with
one another as brethren. Preserve us from pride
and vain glory; from cursing and swearing;
from cruelty, dishonesty, falsehood and covet-
ousness. O ! our Father, while not yet enslaved
by vice beyond the hope of recovery, or bur-
thened with the cares and evils of life, we would
in the morning of our days present ourselves to
thee and dedicate our lives to thy service. Ac-
cept the unworthy but sincere ojff'ering,and ful-
fil thy promise, that they who seek thee early
shall find thee. We return thee sincere and
hearty thanks for our preservation during the

PRAYERS. sn

la«:t niglit, prcf^ervc us by ihy watchful provi-
drnce throughout the whole of this day of
which we have now seen the light. Let no
evil come near our dwelling. Let us be guil-
ty of no thought, nor word, nor action which
may give offence to thee, or prove injurious
to our fellow creatures. May we live in thy
fear all the day long, remembering that thy
eye is ever upon us, and that, though we
may conceal our faults from others, yet they
are all well knovvn to thee, our Maker and
Judge. May these, our sincere praise and
humble requests, find acceptance in thy sight
for the sake of Jesus Christ our Saviour and
Mediator, who has taught us thus to address
thee : Our Father, &c.

EVENING PRAYER.

Our Father, who art in heaven exalted far
beyond our comprehension, but who conde-
scends to dwell with those who are of an hum-
ble and contrite spirit ; we now appear before
thee to present our evening sacrifice of adora-
tion and praise. Thou art worthy to receive
all blessing and glory, and honour, and praise;

VOL. IT. T t

32^2 PRAYERS.

for thou hast created all things, and for thy
pleasure and praise they were created. It is
thou, O God ! who causeth light, and again
spreadest darkness over the face of nature.
To thee we owe the constant return of day and
night, and the grateful change of the seasons.
On thy kind and protecting providence, we,
and all thy creatures, depend for nourishment,
preservation, and support. In thee we live,
move, and have our being. In thy hand is our
breath, and thine are all our ways. It is ow-
ing to thy goodness and forbearance, that we
have not long before now been counted with
the dead. Thy mercies are renewed every
morning, and thy faithfulness is manifested
every night. We praise thee, O God ! who
hast preserved us throughout this day safe from
harm and danger. If we have been happy
enough to make any improvement, to perform
a good action, or to resist a temptation, not unto
us but unto thy name be all the glory. But
alas! we fear that our time has been wasted in
idleness, or employd in sin and folly. We
deeply lament that we have done so many
things to offend thee, our Father, our preser-
ver and friend ; that we have lost so many
means of improvement and opportunities of

PRAYERS. 32S

doing good. May tlie merits of our blessed
Saviour and Intcrcessour shield us from the pu-
nishment which we deserve. Let not the er-
rours of our youth, or the sins of our infirmi-
ties, be remembered against us. Grant us thy
divine grace to preserve us from tiie commis-
sion of sin in future, to instruct us in thy law,
to strengthen our good resolutions, and to keep
us in the way of righteouness, henceforth
even forever. In every case of difficulty and
doubt, do thou guide our wandering steps.
In every season of danger, be thou our guar-*
dian and defence. While we praise thee for
all the acts of mercy and kindness shown to
us during the day past, we earnestly beseech
thee to grant us thy protection during the
night which is to come. O Thou ! whose
eyes are ever awake to guard the just, watch
over us during the silent hours of the night,
and preserve us from every danger. Into thy
hands do we commit ourselves, and, as the day
is appointed for labour and the night for rest,
grant us sweet and refreshing sleep, that we
may awake in the morning with renewed
vigour to run our Christian race. Teach us
every night, when we lie down to sleep, to
commune with thee and with our own hearts.

324 PRAYERS.

and to think of that period when we shall
close our eyes for ever to the light, and lie
down in the cold and silent grave. May such
thoughts lead us to a constant preparation for
our latter end, and enable us every morning,
when we awake, to renew the dedication of
ourselves unto thee, and to think of the mor-
ning of the resurrection, when we shall arise
from the dead, either to happiness or misery,
according as our actions have been good or
evil. O Lord ! we pray not only for our-
selves, but for the whole race of mankind.
May religion, virtue, knowledge and happi-
ness, be spread throughout the whole earth.
Bless the land wherein we live ; guide with thy
council and preserve by thy power, the rulers
of the nation, and give them grace to execute
justice and to maintain truth. Bless the min-
isters of religion, endow them with true wis-
dom and understanding of the truth, that they
may be able to save their own souls and the
souls of those who hear them. Bless all men
of whatever rank, profession or condition, and
make them useful to the advancement of thy
glory and the public good. Pour down thy
choisest blessings on our kind supporters and
benefactors. Bless, in a particular manner.

PRAYERS. 326

our parents by adoption, the commissioners
of this house. Bless our teachers and guar-
dians, and grant, that all employed in this
house may discharge their duty with diligence
and fidelity. Bless and provide for father-
less children and widows, and for all that are
desolate and oppressed. Send relief to the
afflicted and distressed whether in mind, body
or estate. ** Fulfil now these our petitions, as
** may be most expedient for us, granting us in
*' this world a knowledge of thy truth, and in
** the world to come life everlasting," for the
sake of thy beloved son Jesus Christ, in whose
words we close our address unto thee, and
under whose care we would compose our-
selves to rest : Our Father, 6^c.

FINIS

SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES.

A

James Ajicrum.
Charlotte Ann Alhton.
Sarah AUan^ 2 copies.
Mrs. Hannah Anderson.
Mrs. Eliza Akin.
William Ancrum.
Isaac An Id.
James Adger.

B
Rev. Nath. Bowen, 2 copies,
John Blake.
Charles Banks,
lion. Thomas Bee.
Jacob Belsen.
John Brozvnlee, 2 copies.
Benjamin Boj/d.
Jl . Bri/ce, 4 copies.
James Blair.
John Simmons Bee.
Mrs. Burnett.

JVilliam Blacklock, 2 copies

David Bell.

Major Samuel Beehnan.

John Bay.

Mrs. Bryan.

Miss Lynch Bowman,

Nicol Bryce.

Mrs. Susari Boone.

John Blackler.

Edm u n d B u tsf ord.

Elizabeth F. ^Blyth.

Elizabeth Broughton.

Miss Maria Bacot.

Angus Bethune.

jQhn Barrel i.

William Tlirnie.

William Boyd.

John Barron.

John Black.

liobert Brozi'fi.

James Bentham.

Isaac Ball.

Miss E. Bowman.

Hugh Bethune.

John Ball.

E. Bremar.

Thomas Brought on, jun .

Hon. Elihu 11. Bay.

Mrs. Mary Barksdale.

William Burgoi/ne.

John S. Brisbane,

Benj. Bailey.

Edward Bailey.

Mrs. Baron.

Miss J. Baron.

Alex. BaroHy ju7i. M. D.

Miss Baron.

Mrs. Blacklock.

John Bally jtni.

Jofiathan Beattu.

c

George Chisolm.

McMillan Campbell, Q, copies:

James Cox.

J. P. Carroll.

John S. Cogdell.

Dr. Robert Chisolm.

Alex. R. Chisolm.

Thomas Chisolm.

John Champneys.

Ale \a nder Christie-,

SUBSCRIBERS^ NAMES.

Thomas Cochran. M. Drayton.

Charles D. Coolidge. Mrs. Jane De Saussure,

Charles Cunningham. Mrs. A. E. Dennison.

Esther Cheesborough. John Duffus.

Caroline Mary Cooper, Gilbert havidson.

Elizabeth Cuttino. Joseph Dulles.

Mrs. Ann Course. Mrs. E. Dodsworth,

Elizabeth Cox. Robert Dozenie.

Alexander Chisolm. Jacob Deveaux.

Joanna Christie. George Dagliesh.

John P. Cunningham. Alexander Douglas,

li. Cunningham. J. K. Douglas.

John Cunningham. James Drummond.

Mrs. Maria Cattell. Thomas Deas.

Mrs. Elizabeth Cruger. Mrs. J. M. Dart,
Hon. J^angdon Cheves, 3 cop. E

James M'Crackan. Isaac Edwards.

James Carson. Charles EdmondstoUy 3 copi

.John Crawford. Jane Ewing.

H. Courtney. James Ezving

Daniel Crukshanks. J. Ellison.
Mrs.AnnLoughtonCampbell. James Evans.

William Claris. George Edzoards.

George C. ClitheralL William Edings.

Rev. Joseph B. Cooh. A. Edzoards.

Thomas Clough. Alexander Ervin^.
H. Calder. F

James Clark. Timothy Ford.
Charleston Library Society, Henry Farmer.

2 copies. Mrs. E. Farr,

D John J. Forbes,

Frederick Dalcho, M. D. Ann Ferguson.

David Deas. Susan Eraser.

.Tohn Dazcsouy jun. James Ferguson,

Henry Deas. Alexander Forbes.

Thomas H. Deas. Frederick Eraser.
Hon. Henry W. De Saussiire, Mrs. J. Farr.

Alexander Don, Mrs. Freer,

Mark Duffy. John Fowler.

Jane Eliza Dill. Archibald Frezih
Mrs, Soplm DuKpb^

SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES.

Harry Grant.
Mrs. W.H.Gibhes.

JVilmott Gibbes.

Rev. P. Gervais.

Theodore Gaillard.

OthnielJ. Giles.

Mrs. Man/ C. Gregorie.

Robert R. Gibbes.

Major Alexander Garden.

John Parker Gougli, M. D.

James Gordon.

James Gabeau.

James Gibson.

Archibald Graham.

A. F. Gregorie.

William Gordon.

William Gibson.

George W. Gough.

James Gregorie.

John M. Gilbert.

BenJ. Gray.

Hariott Horry.

Jane Hunter.

Nicholas Ha rl est on.

Edward Ha r lest on.

Thomas Hunt.

Thomas Horry.

Miss Juliet Hall.

John Howard.

Tucker Harris, M. D,

Mary Huggin.

Anne Henry cS' Son.

Mrs. Eliz.^Harth.

Robt. Mackeun Haig, M.D.

Leger Hutchinson.

George Haig.

William Hayne.

David Haig.

A. Henry.

VOL. II.

William Hall.
Andrezv Hannah.
Samuel Heron.
Thomas Higham.
James Hunter.
James Hamilton, '1 copia
George Hall.
John Haynsworth.
Mrs. L. llorry.
FJias Horry.
John Hume.
Mrs. Ann Hasood.

/.

Henry Izard.
Archibald S. Johnston.
Sarah Elliot Johnston^
Anna Maria Johnston.
Mary Johnston.
Charlotte Johnston.
A nfia Johnston.
Catharine James.
Joseph JenkinSy sen.
James Jacks.
Mrs. Jennings.
M/s. Izard.
William James.

K
M. King.
Charles Kiddell.
M. E. Keith.
George Kenan.
Alexander Kirk, 2 copie^.
John Ker.

L.
Major Charles Lining.
Thomas Lozcndes.
James Lowndes.
James Lynah, M. D.
D. Leitch.
Ann Eliza Lesesne.
Ann Lesesm.

UU

SUBSCRIBERS^ NAMES.

Janet Lamb.

Elizabeth M. Leger.

H. H. LovelL

Robert Lindsay.

David Lamb,jim.

Winborn Lazoton.

George Lockey.

Mrs. Mary Long.

Henry Lowrey.

Francis Stites Lightbourn.

Daniel Lowry.

Jona than Lucas, jun.

John Long.

Mrs. Ladson.

William Lanes'.

m:

John M^ Far lane.
WiUiam M' Elmoyle,
William M' CI are.
John G. Mayer,
John Mushett.
James M^ Adams.
Capt. Neill Mac NeaL
James Milter.
James Morrison.
Mrs. Mary Mazyck,jun.
Dugald M'Kinley
Miss Hannah M Kenzie.
Rev. Thomas Mills.
Ephraim Mikell.
Rev. Mr. M'Leod.
Ephraim Mikell, jim.
John J. Bl array.
John C. Mickell.
William E. Meggett.
William M'Criight.
Rev. Dr. Montgomery.
Mrs. Mathews.
Joseph Manigault.
William H. 'M'Call
John Mikell, sen.

S. Murky.

James Cannon Martindale.

Benjamin Moodie.

Mrs. Maxwell.

Mrs. E. M'Call.

Robert Maxwell.

M. Mackay.

William Muir.

James Mackie.

William Sf P. P. Mazych

P. M'Owen.

William Monies.

Thomas Malcom.

Mrs. E. C. Mazyck.

Martha Ann M' Guy or.

Elizabeth S. M'Collough.

Eliza Martin.

Ann Marshall.

Joseph Manning.

John Mwphy.

Mrs. Ann Marr.

Mrs. Katherine Macbeth.

W. Milligan.

Mrs. Margaret Mitchell.

Mrs. Eliza Macjie.

Mrs. Catherine Munro, 2 cop.

Mary E. Marion.

Mrs. Ann Mac Cants.

George Macaulay.

Alexander M'Dozmll.

George Ma caulay,jnn.

Daniel Macaiday.

Samuel McCartney.

Thomas Milliken.

Archibald M'Lachlan.

J. Mair, 2 copits.

Samuel M'Neil.

S. M'Pherson.

David M'Credie.
N

Elizabeth Nozi^elL,

SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES.

Tin lip Nj/e.
T/iomas Napier.
Thomas Nau/or.

o

Lewis Ogier.
Thomas Ogier.
John Alex. Ogilvie.
David 0/iphant.
James O'Hcar.

P
Philip G. Prioleau, M. D.
Hon. John J. Pringle.
John Parker.
William Porter.
Marion Porcher.
Isaac Porcher.
Susan Porcher.
Branford Porcher.
Robert I. Pillans.
Willam Price.
John Potter.
E. M. Pringle.
Mrs. Mary Peters.
John Paul.
John Pratt.
General Charles Cotesworth

Pinckneif.
John Porteous.
Washington Potter.
John Patterson.
Miss Pogson.
Th Q mas Pa rker jun .
Joseph Pritchard.
John Porter,
William Pressly.

(I
Mrs. Quash.
Capt. Alexander Qu/Ji/.

R
Charles E. Rozcand.
.John lloberfson.

Frederick Rutledge.
Mrs. Hugh Rullcdgt.
David Ramsay, M. D.
Hi Ilia m liobertson.
G. Rendell.
II. Rolhmaholer.
Mrs. Sarah Russell.
F. Righton.
Robert Ruuand.
Sam. 6) Geo.Robertsmiy^ cop,
Samuel A. Ruddock.
John Ross,
B. D. Roper,
Hon. John Rutledge.
Peter Thomas Ryan.
Mrs. Rhind,
James Ray.
Col. Thomas Roper.
John Robinson.
S
William Simmons.
Thomas Simmons.
Thomas R. Smith.
J. Smith.

William Scot t, jun.
William Smith, Trad-street.

2 copies.
William Stewart.
H. Smith.
Mrs. Agnes Smith.
Robert Shand.
Jervis H. Stevens.
John Stock.
Charles John Steedman.
Whitcford Smith.
Charles Smith.
Maria Stone.
Elizabeth Shackelford.
Mary E. ShacklcJ'ord,
S. Sessions.
FJizabclh S?7iith.

SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES.

Mmy Spears.

Ho7i. Wm. Loughton Smith.

Ann Simons.

James D. Sommers.

Peter Smith.

James Scott.

William Smithy Elliss-street.

James Shoolhred.

Mrs. Jane Smith.

Mrs. Mary Shackleford.

Francis Simmons.

Richard Stiff.

Rosetta Sommers.

benjamin Smith.

William Seabrook.

Benjamin Seabrook.

Thomas B. Seabrook.

T. R. Shepherd.

Mrs. Keating Simons.

Rev. James Dewar Simojis.

John Simpson.

John Sanders.

T
Adam Tnnno.
B. F. Trapier.
Elizabeth Tobias.
Joshua W, Toomer.
Ebejiezer Thayer.
William Trenholm.
Eliza Trapier.
H. Tucker.
Thomas Tiinno.
Eliza L. Thomas.
Robert Telfer.
Bethel Threadcraft.
Mrs. Elizabeth fait.
Daniel Townsend.
Mrs. Tiddiman.

V
Miss Ann E. Fan Rhyan.

W

Gen. William Washirigton.
William Washington, jun.
Robert Wilson, M. D.
John Wilson.
Catheririe Webb.
Samuel Wragg.
Major John Ward.
Joseph Winthrop.
Robert Walker.
Mrs. Charlotte Waller.
John P. Wilhelmi.
William Watson.
John P. White.
Mrs. Sarah Waring.
Esther Ainslie Withers.
Mary Withers.
Ann Wagner.
Catherine M. Wilson,
Mrs. Pejielope Warner.
Samuel , Wilson, M. D. 2 co^

pies.
James Wilson.
3Irs. Alison Williman.
MissH. Williman.
Morton A. Waring.
Thomas Walker.
Charles Watts.
Thomas Wescoat.
William Wood.
Joseph JVhaley.
Benjamin Witter.
Plozcden Weston.
William Walton «^ Co.
Alexr. B. Waugh,

Y
William Young.
.Jeremiah A. Yates.
Mrs. E. A. Yates.
W. Youngblood